Best Good Deal Poems
Taco shells are made of yellow corn meal.
They are tasty and crunchy, and usually a good deal.
You can stuff them with ground beef, chicken, or even fish.
Fill them up with plenty of whatever you wish.
Tacos are something folks north of the Rio Grande adore.
However, they break too easily and spill their contents on the floor.
Today so many young women
Don't know how to cook meals
They can drive through Wendy's window
Ordering a good deal
Today so many young women
Can't sew a stitch to mend
They can catch all the sales events
On credit cards depend
Today so many young women
Haven't had a good guide
They only learned from poor examples
Schools' lessons brush aside
What can be done to change their lives
Homemaker to become
Can the schools be responsible?
No! The elders hold the crumbs
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest: Didactic Poem Contest
Date: November 27, 2014 Thursday
Beauty Queen – The Ultimate Beauty Secret, A Collab with Cecilia Crasto
Did someone want to find the Ultimate Beauty secret? Against all odds, will persistence pay off at the Beauty Pageant? Watch to the end of this hilarious and heart-warming journey of resilience, humour, and style, as one contestant defies all odds.
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I'm going to enter a beauty quest
Win or lose it’s my right to contest
Age race or gender should not bold us back
We've fought for our rights so let's get on track
I'll enlist the help of my lovely niece
She runs a gym and is ready to please
We’ll, work on muscles and then the curves
Right now I'm just a bundle of nerves
Woke up this morning and my hair's all gone
A touch of alopecia and I'm like a sheep shorn
To make matters worse one eyebrow is missing
I look a freak and my cat is hissing
Well we’ll, work on muscles and then the curves
Right now I'm just a bundle of nerves
Woke up this morning and my hair's all gone
The day arrives and I'm ready to go
Wig and make-up in place I head for the show
My dress is from the Op Shop all silk and lace
And with my stilettos the stage I, will grace
They have us lined up to do the high kick
I raise my leg and feel my knee click
l' m forced to dance one leg in the air
Oh! how I long for my rocking chair
They're calling my name to receive the crown
My courage and persistence has won me renown
That dress from the Op-shop was a very good deal
I'll remember them kindly for their Winter Appeal.
Mae West
Large chest.
Cruise ship
Sea trip.
Blue meth
Spells death.
Clap more
Encore.
Sun burn
Ne'er learn.
Birds fly
Sky high.
Palm trees
Blue seas.
Drunk tank
It stank.
Red light
Sit tight.
Wear pink
Boys wink.
Bright bling
Gold ring.
She bakes
Nice cakes.
Sea shore
Waves roar.
Sex toy
Lewd joy.
First bike
Red trike.
Cheap meal
Good deal.
Written 29th. September 2020.
New city street
With the wink of an eye
and a shuffle of feet
We wandered about
down a new city street
Where vendors wore blue
with a tangerine sash
In hopes to look good
with no chance it would clash
Their carts were adorned
with ribbons and beads
And funny designs
made of cantaloupe seeds
They hollered and bellowed
and beckoned us near
And when we did stop,
they let out a loud cheer
They offered us products
like peanuts with cheese
And daffodil handkerchiefs
in case we sneeze
Belts made of feathers
with buckles in red
And weird little cones
you could wear on your head
We bid and we haggled
but always were nice
To get a good deal
and a much better price
The street lined with houses,
most two stories high
With windows like shamrocks
reflecting the sky
The balconies all featured
ribbons and bows
That hung from the railings
such colorful throws
Where women were calling
to neighbors across
For clothes pins and hampers
they hoped they would toss
They spoke in a language
so funny to hear
For what they were saying
was not always clear
The men were all mending
and tending the place
Their hats cockled sideways,
a grin on their face
The knees of their jeans
were all covered in patches
While they polished the brass
on the handles and latches
It seems they were singing
an old fashioned song
We tried to join in
as we walked right along
We laughed and we giggled
so much fun was had
But we had to leave
and that made us both sad
So we promised each other
that we both would meet
Again very soon
on this new city street
When my short off-ramp leads me out of here yet again
I do not wish to return.
Of course I can be persuaded, but those spiritual reflection
of All That Is
will have to make me a very good deal,
they cannot force me to choose either.
only I have that power, the power of NO.
When my rickety track becomes a terminus
I do not want to return to this beautiful hellish planet.
This place I have made then remade in my own image.
It was no fault of mine
that it all got screwy and scary,
love and light took a while to find me
I was mostly playing hide and seek
with my own supposed darkness,
but I was always pure, always perfect.
I see that clearly now I see this mind-made place
differently, but
I won't come back, I just won't.
I've done many tours of duty
and have been the most slowest of learners
yet now I am done with any transfiguration
that only drops me back into my own or your illusion.
No, i'm not coming back -
and that's that.
~I Like it A Lot~
(Anaphora/Monorhyme/Sonnet)
I like doing what I'm suppose to do
I like watching each sunrise sunset 'new
I like crafts where can use paper and glue
I like to hear my cats saying mew, mew
I like it a lot when friends are real
I like having each day a healthy meal
I like it when shopping find a good deal
I like great paintings that are surreal
I like it when smiles and cheers are wide spread
I like it when the wind blows all the hair on my head
I like to go to sleep in my nice bed
I like making friendship bracelets with thread
I like it when friends are sincere, and true
I like it when I spend some time with you.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
January.13.2016
The Boy from the Tail End of the Goldhawk Road
1.
The Boy from the Tail End of the Goldhawk Road
I was born Carl Robert Halling at the tail end of the Goldhawk Road which runs through Shepherds Bush in west London and which in the mid 1960s served as one of the great centres of the Mod movement, whose dandified acolytes were infamous for their vanity and hedonism.
I was raised in nearby Bedford Park, a comparatively genteel district close to the largely working class area of South Acton.
My first school was the Lycee Francais du Kensington du Sud, and by the time I was 4 years old, I was already bilingual.
I wasted little time at the Lycee in establishing a reputation as a troublemaker, a popular one admittedly, but a troublemaker nonetheless, constantly in trouble.
I was popular, that much is certain, not just with girls but boys too and blessed with a vivid imagination but I was a near impossible pupil which caused my poor mother a good deal of heartache, and on at least one occasion she drove me home in tears.
I seemed born to controversy, being impatient, disobedient, mischievous, remorselessly attention-seeking, a true imp of a child, on which the full force of the innate depravity of Man appeared to have landed.
At the same time, I was friendly, sincere and open, a good friend, and well-liked.
My Judo teacher at the Budokan in Hammersmith once told someone no doubt with a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach that whenever he heard me he always knew it was Saturday.
I was no less a trial in the quaint little back streets of suburban west London.
My roughness could hardly have been helped by the popular music of the times.
By the time it came for me to leave the Lycee my scholastic standing had improved a little, and after some months spent at Davies Preparatory School, I received the most glittering school report of my entire young life; and was actually declared an excellent pupil.
Summer is here - how I love this time of year! My garden’s filled with sweet scented wallflowers and pretty pansies. Vibrant butterflies are flitting from flower to flower and bees are busy buzzing, pollinating the xanthic melon and courgette flowers. Purple and pink petunias are cascading like a colourful waterfall from two wall baskets. I grab my gardening gloves and set to work with my red watering can giving the parched flowers a much needed drink. Using my garden kneeler is a blessing as I find weeding the fruit and vegetable patches is such backbreaking work!. As I'm weeding I listen to a blackbird singing sweetly as she bathes in the bird bath. I can't help smiling as a friendly robin redbreast flutters down next to me, pecking at caterpillars which are chomping away at the foliage. The summer sun is beating down and I am feeling exhausted, so it's time to sit in a deckchair and relax with a cooling drink, enjoying the natural beauty that surrounds me.
scarlet strawberries
ripe and ready for picking
scarecrow waves straw arms
Haibun contest
Sponsored by Mick Talbot
Entered into Favourite Poem of June 2018
Sponsored by Dear heart a.k.a Broken Wings
There is a good deal of poetic licence in the poem!
6/8/18
This poem is the acrostic for Carol Browne's competition
Happy - that's those who laugh
Angry - that's those who frown
Pleasing - that's those who befriend
Pompous - that's those who look down.
Yearning for - that's those who have lost
Need - that's something we all feel
Emptiness - that's not sought after
Wealth - that's those who have a good deal.
Young at heart - that's to be cherished
Everyone deserves respect and care
A Happy New Year to each one of you
Rich in friendship and peace - be aware.
Dear Lord, I feel roxy!
I am on the move!
No need for a proxy,
Let me enjoy the groove.
Hey you! Looking swanky!
It turns out you could do
Good deal hanky-panky.
Come closer - I won't sue.
You never know what you will find at the Walmart store,
One thing for sure, you will never be bored.
I once saw a woman in a fur coat at 80 degrees,
Standing there sweating as pretty as you please.
I’ve seen a woman walking around in her bikini,
She was not slender, and it was teeny weeny.
Shoppers that saw her did a double take,
Watching each step as she would jiggle and shake.
Many a time I have seen a man with his butt showing,
I pretend not to notice, and just kept going.
Some men wear their pants dragging, and low on their hips,
They are trying to be cool, but you hope they don’t trip.
A few with the motorized carts don’t know how to drive,
So you stay out of their way if you want to stay alive.
At the Walmart store you usually can find a good deal,
And the entertaining customers you see is part of its appeal.
CALIBER:
Burn out the news,
If you think of it being new.
The talk of what I've been through,
Doesn't appear as truth.
It's a risky deal for you.
I'm seeing it with few,
To be an unimaginable conceptualised deal.
Back in our younger days,
Where we just trap to efface.
Something I never accept to taste.
People call me lame of shame,
For I choose to be myself in the game.
Smoking, killing, robbing never my aim.
Wasn't part of reasons why I came.
I get a different plan all the same,
With my red eyes picturing my lane.
Impressing nobody, fear not to be sane.
Go ahead and shoot me Mr. Sake of fame.
What gets me stronger is an undying flame,
Unlimitedly causing magnificence,
Born out of intellectuality walled by faith.
This citation proves my legitimacy on slate.
As I stand by personal competence to be awake,
To clearly elaborate minds laid on await.
At the end we all will be clinged by conjugate.
And our spines will elevate,
Causing a tremendous change to propagate.
No suicide, fratracide would be in minds.
And every heart will show some kind,
Only for that goal to be held as one.
When the table serve some wine,
We then say a good deal is done.
But hold on some minute,
Maybe you're actually not getting it.
Well, Some also might be lost to think,
Especially those folks diregarding this.
This is a reality defining who I am.
I don't go contrary to the norm.
That's going wayward or doing wrong,
Because I don't forget where I'm from.
And I throw no stones to those who conform,
To the system that corrupts.
It's their choice,and I'm informed.
In my circle do I not stay common,
Assertively taking refuge in a dungeon,
Protected by Judah's Greatest Lion.
On him do I forever rely on.
My strength and happiness,
Sourced from his greatness.
Placing me at the top to be fearless.
What then could make my life baseless?
I'm brave and earnest.
Withstanding against pellets,
Discharged to cause breakdowns,
Against my life anyhow.
In fact, this is really detrimental.
Yet, I modify it willfully to be topical.
Funny how the narration goes,
I don't care about it though .
I stay keenly to achieve my goals..
Strictly do I hate to oppose.
And thank God my ambitions is not disclosed,
For my worth to be blemished the most.
Yes,I'm Anderson Walkingshoes!
I'm strong, determined and bold.
A FATHER'S LEGENDARY :
Spirit of love is staged in this superman,
Who never gives up until a good deal is done.
He is the source of giftings production,
Who soundly nurtures his children,
By placing the entire family on satisfaction.
Regards the needs of every member with pride.
In the world of craziness I was born into,
This man has been a real gemstone.
He has always been of great spectrum...
For the construction of my self-discipline.
As a child with folly bounded in my heart,
He cleared it always as fast,
Whenever he sights a fall of it's pinch.
And words from his mouth purges a nag,
Based on a specimen intent
Obliterates all spiritual and physical issues,
Through hardwork and Ruth.
Which makes his family so proud.
Humbly play's the duties of his spouse,
When she's far away from home.
He virtually set matters straight with hope,
Even as we're now on our own.
A real ethicist on earth...
Accessed to be admired best,
Who selflessly places his family first.
And buys advance education for us,
"The future of my children is my legacy",
A citation he usually says to himself.
He gets us deemed with efficacy,
Advises us not to undergo a pelf.
He's an illustrious and a humble legend,
Whose legacies depicts his worth.
GOD bless every good father at the other side.
As the miles are too many to drive,
I turn on a radio station to survive,
it's an oldie but goody one playing songs,
teasing my brain on who did what wrongs,
the scenery is flat and doesn't change a bit.
I'm yawning and praying to keep awake as I sit
while the old Ford truck rolls along,
I hum a tune from an old song,
a Peter, Paul and Mary hootenanny moment
remembering words which were once dormant,
something about five-hundred more miles to go,
figuring that is a lot of gas to blow.
Ahead of me is an old Elsie cow,
grazing next to a farmer's rusty plow,
a horse nearby swishes its long tail,
standing proud and frisky not at all frail,
the flat prairie scene changes about,
as I see a town which gives me a shout,
a large sign advertising 'Cafe Haven,
Giant and Juicy Burgers Not for the Craven, '
after a hearty three-course delicious meal,
my tummy is full which is a good deal,
ready to tackle the long drive home,
I turn on the radio which makes my mind roam,
Ricky Nelson's last century hit, ' I'm a Traveling Man, '
reminds me I am an old and dedicated fan
who has many more miles of road to go
as I drive along the highway singing to and fro.
August 26, 2016