Best Good Natured Poems
We loved the lollipops, cracker jacks, and Holloway candy sticks. We adored the chocolate-coated ice cream bars and the tootsie rolls.
We could not get enough of pop sickles, cool aids, and soda pops.
We sang a love song saying, “Ice cream, soda water, cream on top, tell me the name of your sweetheart”. We had the best-tasting cookies and cigarette candies that eyes had ever seen. We were just poor kids in America’s poorest state, but no kids were sweeter than us. Hot as fire, hassled and harassed by humidity and drops of sweat; but we were sweet, not from
our good-natured personalities but from the sweets that we ate.
Life was hard in my little Mississippi Delta town; But somewhere between hard work and chores; between feeding the chickens and the cows; between feeding the goats and the hogs; between watching TV and doing homework;
between the sun ups and the Sundowns; and between the dawn and the dust;
Yes, in between, we found time to play. Most times we were okay, didn’t go astray, and had lots of fun in the barns, playing in the hay.
We rolled rubber tires like we were driving fast cars; laughed out loud as we sucked whining balls. Money was always lacking, but we did our share of licking, chewing, and sucking the sweet stuff. We bought a lot for the few pennies, nickels, and dimes that we had. We could buy our treats cheaply back then. So, we did our best to stay sweet, chewing bubble gum filled with sugar. We didn’t have a care and learned how to share, and the sweet stuff was always there. 013008PSContest, Childlike Fun, Caren Krutsinger, 2P
Categories:
good natured, beauty, candy, child, kid,
Form:
Prose
Thankless job, I think watching
as Thurman tries to teach the young man
The lad sitting up
on the tractor
like a proud young pup
is full of piss and vinegar
half the time not listening
and half the time telling Thurman
how much he already knows...
As Thurman patiently slumps
his still-sturdy but ungainly frame
against the tractor
fingers strumming his red suspenders
a good-natured grin
slowly spreading
across his grizzled face
gleaming behind think glasses
I see a glint of soft amusement
at this grandiose greenhorn
Thurman has lived through
the Great Depression, and then
the horror of hand-combat
in World War II
one of three from his unit
to make it through-
so there is nothing this little ingrate
can possibly do or say
to break Thurman's composure today
he remains uncommonly calm
and utterly unflappable
a small chuckle slipping out
every now and then
And while the young man boasts
and blusters on about
his plans for next week
Thurman is mostly quiet, until
at length, asked about his plans
“Lord willing-
and the creek don't rise...”
he begins, knowing how
much could change by then
Categories:
good natured, age, humanity, life, wisdom,
Form:
Free verse
A Tribute to Jayson, My Brave Warrior
My dear son, Jayson
When you called late last night to let me know
You were deploying to go overseas tomorrow
In spite of my great resolve
I broke down and sobbed.
The little boy I lovingly nurtured
So witty and good-natured
So kind, compassionate, and loving
You’ll always be my sweet boy
Even though the world now sees you as a grown man.
Recalling special times when I showered your baby face with kisses
Or tickled your armpits
Howling with laughter, you would beg me
“Do it again, Mommy, I love it!”
I remember all those moments we had
At times rocky, sometimes sad
But most of all memorable and enjoyable.
I remember your growing pains
All your questions, anxieties, and mixed-up emotions
Yes, we made it through hurdles you and I
Making me laugh, making me cry
But taking that journey together was quite priceless!
You’re now a strong, valiant, young man
Willingly putting your life on the line
Many have thanked you for your service
And, my brave warrior, I am so proud of you
When I hear your humble, heartfelt reply, “Glad to do it!”
You’re just simply the best!
While you took a minute to leave the nest
I’m grateful for the extra time we were given
But I know
It’s time to let you go –
Go take your rightful place in the world.
You’ve grown wings like a fierce eagle
It’s your time to fly high! Now soar!
But remember that you are always a part of me
And even though we may no longer hold hands
We are still holding hearts.
These tear-splattered pages
Reflect my anguished heart
Knowing you’re prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for your country
I pray that you will return to me safe and sound
I love you, my hero - my precious son.
Godspeed!
¡Vaya con Dios!
05-16-2014
Contest: Relationships
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Placement: 1st
Categories:
good natured, love, missing you, soldier,
Form:
Free verse
I will never quite grasp the depth of your love and care,
For those around you, and for the world and its constant suffering
You understand more than you express,
You express more than I can understand…
Your sweet and playful spirit leaves an impact on my life and heart,
Uplifting me when I need it most…how can I thank you?
And your meaningful, romantic side,
Your poetry is priceless!
You care about the deep, sad and unusual,
Admiring the sentiments of darkness and light alike,
Inspired by the world around you, your canvas is infinitely painted in detail
Revealing colors that bring relief to the eyes
Despite the unimaginable hardships you have faced,
And of the trials and tests of the present and unknown future,
You remain resilient, good-natured and strong,
Never letting anything break you,
No matter how many demons swarm your beautiful garden of words,
No matter the careless and unkind words from the ignorant and afflicted,
The conflicted and the constricted…
You are aware of the sensitivity of each opposition,
Easily seeing past the nailing and jabs aiming for your mind and heart,
And you humble me with your meek approach of poetry
You must write when inspiration touches truth
Not to mention, when sick abuse yearns for justice,
You grab the evil source by the throat and shame him!
Even when wounded, when the voice can no longer speak,
When the tongue is bit for the better of all,
When emotions plea for more consistency,
You speak the loudest to me
You are The Silent One
And you mean ever so much to me!
My Tribute to the gifted and resilient Silent One
Categories:
good natured, beauty, blessing, dedication, friendship,
Form:
Ode
Clear the track, here comes Jack
Or Johnny Canuck to some
To a bunch of friends on Poetry Soup
He's that Wacko Jacko bum!
He's Canadian eh! From way up north
From the land of ice and snow
He eats bowls of nails for breakfast
Wearing manly lumberjack clothes
“Good day eh! How's it goin' eh?”
Are two of his favourite greets
As he polishes off his morning brew
With a slab of uncooked meat
He's a tough old dude, that's for sure
With mush instead of brains
A grizzled good natured son of a gun
With love running through his veins
He'd give you the shirt right off his back
But it's too damn cold up here
For fear of freezing his nipples off
Instead he's just say, “Wanna beer?”
Clear the track, here comes Jack
Or Johnny Canuck to some
To a bunch of friends on Poetry Soup
He's that Wacko Jacko bum!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
good natured, silly,
Form:
Quatrain
If Australia was a poem
It would be written in galloping Iambic
Full of characters leaning toward the laconic
Every line a simile, every name a diminutive
If Australia was a poem
It would be a sun drenched beach
A perpetual holiday of non-stop mate-ship,
good-natured joke telling and weekend BBQ’s
If Australia was a poem
It’s lines would start out leafy, ending in spinnifex,
head out of the big smoke to beyond the Black Stump
No matter what happened in between-
“She’d be right mate.
If Australia was a poem
It would be flowing like the landscape
It would speak to you of far away,
of scented , sun warmed winds and
distant shades of green and grey.
If Australia was a poem
I’d keep it close to heart
It’s familiar lines of birdsong and patriotic verse,
mingling in memory this land-my home.
Categories:
good natured, culture, nostalgia, simile, word
Form:
Free verse
There is the wondrous nature of it all
Spring flowers, summer rain, winter snowfall
Ants and bees and anything seeming small
Or sunrises... across the world enthrall
Inate talent and intellect wherewithal
Guide the release of emotional thrall
Boundless curiosity overall
Could be natural as a waterfall
A good-natured person is one we call
A blessing which on us did befall
There is the wondrous nature of it all
May 25, 2018
Monorhyme Contest by Shadow Hamilton
N/A
Categories:
good natured, blessing, emotions, heart, nature,
Form:
Monorhyme
Our thoughts should
always be good-natured.
To achieve our well-being
and to positively affect
those who are far away
from us.
Categories:
good natured, adventure,
Form:
Free verse
They want to burn the flag today
to them America's blood born banner
represents jingoism, a false heroism of a broken day
a culture illegitimate in divine manner,
feeling excluded from rich spiritual deposits
cursing the color of a People truly progressive
a breed disinterested in the Marxist and Maoist,
feminists and racists come to set fire to Liberty's starry votive,
impudently waving the national rags
of failed narco states and theocratic tyrannies
chanting dystopic glories of thuggish brags
with savage violence assaulting children, women, and men with American identities,
have they ever bothered to read the 1st, 9th, or 13th Amendments
will they ever realize the illusion of ideological hatred,
in our land they live with victory's compliments
yet grown fat on the lies they've been easily fed,
We, Americans, have a heritage, and citizenry
composed of good natured, disciplined hearts,
educated, informed, and compassionate to humanity,
folk, from every continent, creed and diverse smarts,
Come, you ignorant miscreants
come and burn this flag I wear with honor and pride,
come burn it,
Over My Dead Body!
J.A.B.
Categories:
good natured, america,
Form:
Epic
Charlie. I worked with Charlie for 14 years. He was a little older than me, did the same job. Sure had the "highs and lows" - he must have been manic-depressive or bipolar or something. He'd blow up, but remained a good friend. Charlie was big, had to be 350 lbs. or 160 kg. A very good drummer, he could work magic with just his fingers and thumbs on a table. He said nobody in his family ever lived past age 55. Colon cancer. At first, there was some steely resolve to fight, but it quickly leached most of it out it of him. He was correct about age 55.
Bob was a mechanic, and didn't work "on the road." At that time, it was somewhat like being in the military for most of us - we had our rank, our chain-of-command, and our missions (not to mention our egos). Bob was at peace, competent, relaxed, quiet. He was a little hard to understand - he spoke softly, perhaps slightly muffled, as if with a small speech impediment, but always with good humor and a twinkle in his eye. I'd see him a few times a year, when we were back from a tour of work. Always wore a red bandanna around his head.
He was as purely good-natured as anybody I've ever met. This was in the days before cell phones, and in the repair shop there was a pay phone that was enclosed with sound-dampening material, so you could hear over the din. One time I lost my wallet - that cold, nauseating feeling - I'd left it in the little sound-booth. After searching the grounds for two fruitless hours, I came upon Bob, approaching me with the most honest smile. "Are you missing something?" he said, holding out the wallet. No games, no sarcastic comments, he was just glad to help.
And then one time he wasn't there. "Bob died - he had leukemia." I hadn't known; I don't think he told anybody, maybe a boss right at the end. Oh Bob.
Categories:
good natured, death, life, sick, work,
Form:
Prose
I’m Andrea, a visitor to earth,
and I'm a Virgo; astrologically,
stability has ruled me since my birth.
A gentle, mellow earth girl here you see.
I’m tolerant and don’t know how to scold;
relaxed among my students that I teach;
unruffled (some might even find me cold),
and though I speak my mind, I do not preach.
I’m also fairly easy on the eyes;
good-natured, I adjust to any type.
so I had dated lots of different guys,
and for each one I seldom had a gripe.
I’m sure they’d tell you, though I’m fun and breezy,
in one regard this earth girl was not “easy!”
By Andrea Dietrich for Skat's Contest: Keep It Real
Categories:
good natured,
Form:
Sonnet
After chewing shoe leather they called steak,
in the Pencey cafeteria,
Mal, Ackley, and I enjoyed a winter afternoon on campus,
on the bus, and in a restaurant.
We walked across a puffy white quilt
as students conversed, laughed, and threw snowballs.
I held my snowball until the bus driver told me to leave it outside.
We had intended to see a comedy with Cary Grant,
but Mal and Ackley had already seen it.
We hung out in the restaurant played pinball and ate burgers.
Arriving back at our dorms at a quarter to nine,
Mel left for a bridge game
and Ackley shoved his acne ridden face into my pillow
until I told him I had a paper to write.
I couldn’t write what Stradlater wanted.
I couldn’t describe any rooms without elaborate furniture.
I couldn’t describe sporty rooms
with trophies on dressers and pennants on walls.
My brother Allie played baseball.
He wrote poetry on his catcher’s mitt with a green pen.
He stood in right field and recited verse from his imagination,
in his mind.
He died from leukemia very young.
I fell into a depression,
a garage,
a gym with windows to punch out.
I broke my hands against our station wagon’s windows.
I cannot make a tight fist.
I curl my fingers enough to type excerpts of Allie’s poetry
for a paper that will never be appreciated.
My red headed brother Allie,
such a good natured kid,
he had a good combination of extrovert and introvert,
avoiding anger.
Sitting on his bike fifty yards away
with his hair shining in the sun
as I teed off,
hoping to make a distant green and shoot under par.
Mom had scored a hole in one with him.
I still try to overcome unidentified handicaps
on a hazardous course.
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If you are intrigued by this work read and review G. D. Master’s book, “Interpretations,” free in PDF format on SmashWords.com. Enter “gd master” or “interpretations” in the search bar of SmashWords to find it.
Categories:
good natured, appreciation, brother, cancer, death,
Form:
Prose Poetry
YOU ...
small, furry,
soft, warm, joyful,
sweet little creature,
came to me in a shadow ...
a time when my heart ran cold,
kicked far down the road by sorrow,
and lost as any hobo without a compass.
I had given hopes and dreams their pink slips ...
shown their sorry, deceitful little selves the door,
and told them where to put their accursed optimism.
Then YOU ...
you who had
been so neglected
and abused by others
of my race, others who had
seen kittens as something less
than themselves ... something for
their twisted amusement ... something
meant for the focus of their ire and hatred
and evil intent ... something at the mercy of the
dominion granted them by their so-called "acumen" ...
YOU, Sugar ...
had come with
such a simple name,
a name I had every intent
of changing to something far
more artistic, or worldly, or cute,
or extravagant, and yet as the time
passed those first days with me, as you
worked your gentle, loving, tender, amiable,
precious, good-natured way deep into my heart,
it was more-and-more evident that whoever had given
YOU your moniker,
had somehow, through
their sinister intent, STILL
been unmistakably affected
by your pure and precious spirit,
and had out-done my best intentions
and wholly self-lauded creativity, (as well
as trumped my attempts to attach a name to
you that others would feel obligated to soak with
feigned praise), by giving you a sweet epithet which,
in its absolute simplicity and virtue, was nothing less than
PERFECT.
YOU, my sweet
little Sugar, abide
the very essence of
your name, and you have
not only sweetened my days
beyond measure, but have saved
my life in ways that I'll never be able to
impart you. Who knew that the dark clouds
of my heart would be rent by such a fuzzy little
face of sunshine - that all I needed was a little bit of
YOU.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "My Companion And Close Friend That Never Complains" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Just A Little Bit Of Sugar Poetry Contest", Debbie Guzzi, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
good natured, animal, cat, cute, love,
Form:
Shape
I feel sorry for all the people in this town that look at me with contempt or disgust, spout homophobic slurs behind my back, and condemn my lifestyle. It's funny, because they almost never have the courage to say it to my face. I just wanna say to them, my name is Battle so bring it *****! I live in this world open and proud. Not only am I a transgender
GIRL,
but I'm gay as well (that means I like girls). If you know where I'm coming from, then that is one of the most courageous and frightening things you can possibly do. I feel sorry for those people, because I am free in every way they are not; and they know it. Their fear meets the face of my strength, and they choose to react with anger and spite. They say I'm disgusting and some of the good-natured ones may even pray for me. Why you ask? Am I all that different by appearance? No, I simply wear nail polish. I'm not a make-up and sundress kind of
GIRL
but still I meet these looks daily. My nail polish, by my best estimates, costs me roughly 200-300 dollars a month in tips from my delivery route, and it's worth every penny.
Am I scared every day?
YES.
Do I struggle with accepting myself?
OF COURSE
Are there days I hate myself for what I am?
YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT!
I go through the same struggles as all those haters out there do. The difference is, I do not live in the dark, and I do not live in fear. Darkness and ignorance breeds fear. Knowledge is salvation. I lived in my own world of darkness for so long because it was safe. In the end, it's only made me bitter, alone, and lost. For those who have struggled, this quote endures; "it's only after we've lost everything, that we're free to do anything". Just let go of all the things we use to shelter ourselves from the unknown.
If you still don't know what I'm talking about, try living in a town of 2,000 sheltered people that is separated by any other major city by 130 miles or so. I know other people are scared for me too, and that's ok. But they should know that this is my code, and I will die for my code. This is my spine, and I'll stand until my dying breath. Sometimes, in the end, living means finding something you are willing to die for. Stay true to yourselves out there.
Categories:
good natured, art, inspirational, spoken word,
Form:
Bio
Photo by US Navy WestPack Album—Gorelick 2nd top right
“Not Squared-Away”
Crawling and sliding through slimy debris
Knees scraped raw on the gritty hanger bay
We’re sailors on the carrier Coral Sea
Crossing the equator this bright April day
Our shellback ordeal-just good-natured hazing
A navy tradition; great nautical fun
Like pagons, it’s old King Neptune we’re praising
Great Zeus, let this filthy business be done!
Now shellbacks! We’ve made it unscathed, more or less
We toss our soiled clothes out to the ocean breeze
But I find myself in one hell of a mess
For I left my wallet in my dungarees!
Now drifting away is my navy ID
A grave offense if it’s lost or misplaced
It will no doubt be captain’s mast for me
Where I’ll be demoted! Denounced! Disgraced!
I stand at attention, rigid and straight
The captain shouts: You are not squared-away!
Sweating bullets, I ponder my dire fate
I’ll surely be thrown in the brig today
A lost ID at sea is close to a crime
A gross dereliction, stupid but rare
On just bread and water I will do my time
As I topple down the steps to despair
In solemn dread I now report to the chief
With a churning stomach and anguished mind
But now all fear lifts and I sigh in relief
As he snaps: Get to work; were falling behind
Written 9/11/22
Categories:
good natured, devotion, humor, military,
Form:
Narrative