Best Get The Picture Poems
Flapping in the wind
bouncing to and fro
hanging on by a thread
knowing shortly I'll let go
I remember when . . .
that day you brought me home
I was so fresh and new
bright and bold
bounded tight
you'd cinch me up
I'd keep you warm at night
As time went on
I no longer cleaned up well
but still I was your favorite
bringing to you warmness
comfort when you need it
and the scent of your loving home
I know I will never be
the one you fell in love with
and many others will take my place
I will never get the picture out of my head
when you would put me on
that glow upon your face
10/9/17
More houses
More boundless
More guns
More funds
More drugs
More plugs
More liquor
More, get the picture?
More logic
More and more profit
More of that
More A.S.A.P.
More gas
More cash
More in my glass
More before I pass
More wax
More racks
More in my cup
More of that stuff
More tabs
More dabs
More jars
More cars
More bars
More decks of cards
More yards
More of living large
More of taking charge
More paths being carved
More firearms
More tools
More jewels
More shoes
More booze
More clothes
More homes
More love
More of all of the above
he parlayed a condom full of nouns
in bold thrusts of the quill
for the para structuralist cadres
many of them freeway orphans
who won't even read a stoplight
on the other hand
there's a lot of other hand
upon hearing the chimes of midnight
I opened the door
another surprise party
that I knew about all along
arranged by my body building therapist
who was a notorious sadist
requiring humiliation ab astra
went in after my scenario gland
in an act of divine pity
sewed me back up real fast
couldn't handle the pixel rate
the audience shrieked and laughed
it was the great awakening
after the Treaty of Lucky Seven
in which all nations pledged
to honor their accidents and idiocies
as though they were instruments of divination
uh oh here comes my chiropractor
a known mob boss
never found the need to knock
cracked his knuckles at the door
and politely asked may I enter
he spoke 7 languages
and several materialist dialects
and could talk without
moving his lips
many were blamed for
things they never said
a hundred times a day
nothing is uncontained
archaeologists in the city dumps
using a subway map with all the stops
snorted and toiled through Winter
at their historico-revisionist comedy
piecing convex to concave
any idea past its prime is stupid
this is the unfortunate fate of all humanity
nobody really likes change
unless it’s more money
oh I know I’ll never work in this town again
but with a bankroll
the size of a chewed pencil
you get the picture
now buckle up kids
mommy's going to drive a little faster
there's a cop on my ass
and I think I can lose him
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Elena is a visiting nurse, she's
also my sister in law.
She shared a story with me,
that practically dropped my jaw.
She didn't mention this couple's
name, there are privacy laws.
But she shared a story about,
this oriental man that took some
ba__'s
Don't get me wrong they were
a nice couple that had some
medical needs.
Elena was there to help, take
care of her patient, provide some
medical assistance and oversee.
She got to know the family and
became good friends.
There was one little problem
there was a language barrier
both didn't understand.
It was frustrating for Elena
trying to communicate with
this older man.
Wung would make up words
and Elena would nod her head
to make him think she'd
comprehend.
I guess she nodded because
she didn't want to hurt his
feelings to show that she
didn't have a clue to what
he was talking about.
She just didn't understand
Chinese, no way no how.
One day Wung asked her, "You
like ucky chicken?" She
replied, "What?" He asked
again, "You like ucky chicken?"
He told her, "You comma with me!"
He took Elena in the kitchen took
out a frying pan, some cooking oil,
and a chicken for her to see.
He put the frying pan on the
burner, slammed the chicken in
the cooking oil, and said
"ucky chicken, ucky chicken!"
Elena looked at this Old man
trying desperately to understand.
Elena said, "Oh you mean fried
chicken!" He said, "yes!" "Yes!" "ucky
chicken, ucky chicken!"
He said, "You aaaaamericans ucky chicken in the hottttt oilllllll!"
Meaning to say. You Americans fry chicken in the hot oil.
Elena practically fell on the floor
laughing for what she had heard.
In his words he thought he was
saying fried chicken but his actual
words said, well you get the picture.
LOL!
Michael Tor 10/2 2015 (True Story)
Dedicated to my sister in law Elena.
How can a day last for so long
and a year go by so fast?
I'm racing for the future
with my wheels spinning in the past.
If the rain never stops.
How come the wells run dry?
I feel I can cry a river
but there's not a tear in my eye.
How come we only call on God
when we're in trouble, jail, or prison?
How can we hear what He says
when we're to busy to even listen.
If the laughter never stops.
When will the crying begin?
Everybody is looking to heaven
while we're still living in sin.
The clock just keeps on ticking.
How much time do we have left?
The Lord's heard so much whinning
that He's probably gone deaf.
I found a needle in the haystack
after I was blinded by His Son.
I'm going to smile when I see Jesus.
Maybe you better run.
How can it be so quiet
when the music never stops?
Who made all these rules
and who's policing the cops.
If you never question authority
are any of us truly free?
When did the land of opportunity
turn into the land of the fee?
Why do the poor always pay
while the rich get richer?
Do you think the presidents poor
or do you get the picture?
How can we all be so damn poor
yet we still buy into all their lies?
Absolute power corrupts absolutely
and all our freedom dies.
A list of rules upon your retirement
because I have my interests and activities;
no, we are not getting rid of my car,
I cherish my freedom to move.
I suggest you find your own pastimes,
you'd look pretty silly in red hat.
Oh, by the way, don't follow me shopping
in baseball cap, jeans and white socks.
Grocery planning is my domain
so don't hold forth on where to shop.
I'm out to bunco and Friends of the Library,
meetings held in the evening.
I knit with companions, again early evening,
don't call the shop to see if I'm there.
Remember we said that we'd travel?
There you go! Get to the travel agency.
Paris, Rome, London, I'm up for those.
I want to eat out whenever I wish,
no more big meals on weekends.
You get the picture? I'm retired, too!
When does the plane leave? I'm ready!
Scabs in Australian history
The Labor Party came from the early Shearers strike, 1900s,
where Unions fought for and got fair wages for the workers.
Later in the 1950s the Shearers had trouble with SCABS.
The Australian National Country Party brought in the Scabs to undercut the
wages of the hard working Shearers of Sheep .
Kiwis shearers were brought in at lower wages and fights developed,
between the Scabs and the Aussie workers...
The Farmers wanted cheap labour...
So worker swinging voter, you are being replaced in the Mines jobs,
By guess what? Cheap imported maybe 4 dollar an hour workers
on special Visas...Not funny to be kept out of work!
Howard the duck was ejected from his seat because of
bringing in 100,000 cheap contract workers,
ARE THEY STILL TAKING AUSSIE JOBS TODAY..?
DO YOU GET THE PICTURE?
You vote for Abbots nasty people and you will be out of work,
or would you like to work cheap ..Bo Peep SHEEP???
Don Johnson
The mythical fates had a dubious task
Sewing the cloth of life for men
“How did that work?” you ask
Well, get three sisters who sew
Give each one a specific job.
When done, down the tubes you go.
Anyway get the picture…its destiny
Clotho sews the cloth of life
Putting in all the events for a person
Joyful time or existence filled with strife
It was then that life could improve or worsen
Marriage, children, oops…divorce, of course
Married again, children, oh no….divorce
You forgot to remember…don’t use force
Or, you’ll wind up in the pokey like any dark horse
Lachesis the much important second sister…
Her job was vast and excitingly dire
The name was a tongue twister
Yet, imagine the names of all the men
Placed in a big jug…she’s been hired
To draw a name---uh oh…what did you win?
A one way trip up to angels or down to be fired
No matter ready or not, you’re officially a “has been.”
Well, are you ready for the third little lady?
Just so you know Atropos means death
Now let’s review…here’s a dry run.
Sewer, drawer…so what’s left?
Someone has to use the cutters
This third gal chops it off---life’s cloth
Word is she does not even sputter
One whack and a snip—it’s like flame to the moth.
Best advice…be careful when you refer to fate
These little old ladies take offense…uh, oh too late!
Wolf Works
Not your run of the mill wolf, my fur is shiny silver
My left legs are stronger than the other two
Every day it is a struggle to prove my place
In the wolf pack pecking order
I am the center level in the group
Fever in my mind, in my blood, I strive
Salivate to compete, positioning to be number one
The lower and upper members of my pack
Attack my good legs to keep me down
On the hunt I jump just like a crab, sideways, then pounce
I know, crabs don’t jump but you get the picture
Licking my chops, tongue hanging like a liver, panting
Ice cold breath arresting the bloodied moment
As my teeth sink in the captured prey
Left legs did me well as I devour the premium parts
My partners stare at me and pace
I guess they are saying grace
If they take one step closer
I will put them in their place
Destroyer vs' Gareth # 2
Gareth oh Gareth.
How have you been?
I took a look at your last hit
We both know your not gonna win
Although you are good, I admit
You have the honor to remove my gloves.
They no longer fit
After popping your zit of a poem
This is not war, not a slam
I'm just having fun knocking your wits
Like an ANVIL drop from above
I'll squash you Like a little bug.
Your words don't hurt not one bit
Running to mommy for a hug!
As you know, if the shoe doesn't fit
Why do you still wear them?
About my pants.
I want them back.
I have to give them to my aunt.
Who likes sticking her nose in your crack
I am sorry about Mother Nature
You both share the same bed
We must have the same culture
I agree her beauty is like sweet cinnamon bread.
I fly over you like a vulture
Waiting for you to drop dead
Do you get the picture?
Theirs no stop, till you crown my head.
Your slams have been fractured
Your true colors revealed as an amateur
Due to the loss of memory in this poet game
Now we both know who's the impostor
Gareth I just tossed you in the flames
At this time were acting immature
You're like the friend I never found.
This has been a great pleasure
I'm not done putting the smack down
It is almost time for my departure
Here's my hand, get up from the ground.
Finish your pedicure
You're still on the rebound.
Your poems now sit with a foreclosure sign
Do to sissy punches on every round
To: G.J.
From: P.D
(-: fun :-)
Okay, Gareth are you up for round three.
Dear friend and poetess Connie Wong
wrote poetry as lovely as a song.
Reading others’ poems was her passion.
If words were clothes, she was always in fashion.
Sweet Carolyn Devonshire
was a poetess many could admire.
So generous was she
and also a good friend to me!
Sir David Austin, simply called Daver.
With me, his free verse was always in favor.
He joked that he was very old.
But it’s no joke his poems were gold!
Dec. 8, 2022
for Sotto Poet's Who Is Your Best Ps Poet Or Poetess Poetry Contest
Note: Sadly, I have no clue how I could ever find a picture of dear Daver.
I had to get the picture of Carolyn off the FB page of Constance La France. although I am sure Carolyn showed me a few recent photos before her death about two years ago, right now it's all I have. I will try to track a more recent one down! I decided to do my clerihews on deceased poets since there is no way I could ever narrow down my three "best" from the poets active here today!
There's Dasher and Dancer
Then Prancer and Vixen
Comet and Cupid
Then Donner and Blitzen
If you think these are reindeer
Then you would be wrong
And it's not crazy words
In some Christmassy song
See, they are my brothers
Don't anybody laugh
For these are hillbilly names
From Polecat Path
It's a place in the hills
In East Tennesee
On the top of a mountain
As high as can be
Here, Christmas is different
There's no reindeer or sleigh
We use an old covered wagon
It works better that way
We make toys in the smoke house
For most of the year
While smoking our hams
'Til Christmas is near
Then we load up the wagon
With granny on the reins
Her wooden teeth all gummy
With rootbeer stains
Now the wagon is pulled
By my brothers and I
We're plumb tuckered out
'Cause people can't fly
Well, you get the picture
About Christmas in the hills
It's a hillbilly adventure
On wagon wheels
Now there's much more to tell
But it's time to run off
'Cause we're loading the wagon
Your friend, Rudolph
Fascism
Communism
Socialist
Conservative
Democrat
Autocrat
Dictatorship
So you got into Politics to help people
I hear you say
This is your Rally Call
Your mission statement
Your soap box platform
But where do you come from ?
Who do you dwell amongst ?
What experience do you have ?
Of despair and poverty ?
Fear of crime
And what the future holds for your children ?
Then I ask you sincerely ?
How on earth are you going to help me exactly ?
And why should I vote for you ?
Just because you are the lesser of 2 evils
Because when all is said and done
That is the underlying Political Reality
Whether it be them or you
There is nothing anyone can do
Every Ism and Ideology
Has been tried before
With little or no joy
The Poor remain Poor
The Rich get Richer
You get the Picture
A vote only counts up until the moment
The ink dries
And the lies begin in Ernest
Burnt again for 4 more year's
Until voting time comes round again
And resurrecting the bleats and tweets
Vote for Change
Yes we can
Let me help you
What's New
Feelings tingle like icy-hot
No returning this clearance life we've bought
The gun may be loaded but you've only got one shot
Always placing first, even before your second thought
Showing off like I'm in real estate
Don't fence me in, you can't match my gait
Try to upscale you ain't carrying your weight
I'm in the charts, check my growth rate
Call me Mrs. Lee cause I be making dough
Son, I'm the coldest, 30 below
You get the picture, Vincent Van Gogh
Steady climbin to the top, no plateau
I'll help you open doors, got that master key
Original work, you're just the carbon copy, cc
Go ahead and follow, no sign-up fee
I'm goin places, 3 out of 4 pros agree.
After a hard day, I relaxed in the shower.
I bent over and let the warm water run.
As it began to penetrate my body I turned
it to very hot. The pleasure rose immensely.
AFTER a very trying experience I needed time.
A HARD thing, to squeeze in sometimes.
The DAY to day, mundane, obscenity
we call work. Five days and a handshake
from which I have to wipe the drool as
soon as I can before RELAXING a bit,
IN THE SHOWER.
The immense pleasure of almost
scalding hot water, started me thinking
of how lucky and blessed I really am.
It’s good to reflect on such things, to keep
from getting all BENT out of shape.
To dwell OVER things without reminding
oneself that this was the way it really was
is a good way to end up in a mental state.
If we think about the good things AND LET
THE WARM feelings run through us like
soaking in a nice hot furo with the steam
rising through the WATER on a cool night, we
begin to get the picture.
It is very hot. The pleasure rises.
As I RUN the memories through my
mind and AS the many things I have shared
in life BEGAN TO PENETRATE the corners of
all capacity to maintain composure,
tears welled readily as MY BODY began
to react to the memories.
Quickly I TURNED a simple process into
a healing meditation. IT proved to be
something I do often when I
feel the need TO take a VERY HOT bath.
It is amazing how THE PLEASURE of one’s
own company often is beneficial, and should
not be taken lightly. I ROSE to a higher plane
of understanding of my inner self that day,
and am now IMMENSELY more comfortable
just being me.
Mar 5 2012 Charles Henderson
for Debbie Guzzi’s Et Cetera Contest