Best Goodman Poems


To Keep the Wolves Away

My brave son of seven is leaving!
to spar with military jaws.
And I repeat, Lycurgis taught me these three laws:
to keep the wolves away: if I say three words today,
may they be concise and may they be brief-
"Equality, austerity, and military pay." 
And stole my son at seven, a Thief.

Equality lives in every mothers' grief;
   -' my son the soldier is fit and neat.'
Austere and upright, conditioned to bow and beat.
Yet, I remember seven years ago
his curls when I bore him to breast,
and fed him into a peaceful rest.

In the dark haze before sunrise, I awake to work.
Weave my sandals tight and high on my calves;
My tunic, short and stark, unadorned and Spartan.
I draw water from the well and bake the bread in halves.
One for me and one for him, to reconcile my every sin.

D.Goodman
Laconic contest
Categories: goodman, change, child, childhood,
Form: Rhyme

Fire Dancing

In Bulgaria, the Nestinari touched me when I was a child
high above the arm to hold, something new and something old.
She said, "Your feet were meant to walk the fire."
A plain proposition I did not understand; I liked the
	acrobats, flying and walking the wire.

She asked my permission and I granted it unknowing
that my path diverged that night, cool coals on the ground and
Early morning on the rise, I see more than just shadows now.
In Bulgaria, we walk the fire and our feet do not burn-
	in twenty-years time, it will be my turn.

In a trance I spin and the music pumps loud,
"Aye dance", faster like Giselle; and sparks fly 
as I kick the soil, embers in the air;
	just putting on a show for the crowd.

The glory of tradition passed into me; the fury and
the light; the cool of a glacier in my core.
In Bulgaria, we walk the fire and our feet do not burn-
twilight to daylight, there are always more steps to learn.

D.Goodman 11-26-13
Categories: goodman, dance, fire,
Form: Rhyme

Early Morning Harmony

Danced with
Conceived and born
Sung to and nursed
On a downy soft quilt

Transfused with
Vibrations of Ellington
Basie, Crosby, Waller
Goodman and Armstrong

Skyrocketed spiritually 
By Kern and Carmichael
Porter, Gershwin and Berlin

Thanks Mom and Dad
For the beautiful music
We made together
On that bed of downy softness
Categories: goodman, childhood,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Blooms In

I met someone once, who showed me why the flowers bloom;
And why it is so easy for buds to break through the early spring snow.

I was afraid, and said nothing.  Yet I am there, whenever I want to be, in that moment. 
My hand touches the cold snow and I can feel the earth is warm, underneath.

 I sweep the old grapevine leaves away, and feel with my hands for life renewing. The crocus and tulip bulbs gently break the surface of the soil and meet my hand. And I think, who were these people? Did they have dreams like me?

Time slows down for the longest moment, and I am captured in the truth of that moment. Crystalized forever, the imprint remains.

D.Goodman
A Brief Unforgettable Moment Contest
Contest date 12/2013
Categories: goodman, angel,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Ain'T Throwin Myself Off No Bridges

Aint Throwin my'self off no bridges
God made the Ocean for the fish

And at the risk of soundin' religious
Suicide wont be gettin' his wish

Sister Mercer, sister Bailey,
Sing me through this

 'Nough Blues in my suitcase
To make the Titanic sink
'Nough bills in my briefcase
To make a Nun drink
Family and friends say I'm on the brink

 
Therapist diagnosed me with RDSD
Said, Leave two hundred dollars at the desk
Two of these blue pills will alleviate your stress

 
I told her I beg to disagree
"No, I don't have RDSD."

  What I do have is MMSJB
(Missing Me Some James Brown)
One CD and I’ll be gettin’ down

Not giving you or your receptionist a dime.
Respectfully lady, are you out of your mind?

 
...An hour of Loretta Lynn
Jus' let the record spin and spin
Again and again

The Coal Miner's daughter
Miss Joplin, Lena, Ethel Waters

 
Miss Ella leading the choir
Miss Leontyne taking us higher

 
Let me wade in the Muddy waters
Just let me wade in that muddy water

 
She said, We can try Abilify
Zoloft or Lexapro
Said, "Oh miss Therapist, I gotta go."

 
She said, "If Cymbalte doesn't work
Make an appointment and come back

...Two-hundred more and I'll put you on Prozac."

 
   And don't look for me at Church on Sunday
Will be playin' these Blues straight thru Monday

Saint Armstrong Church of Divine Jazz
Rev Benny Goodman presiding
Therapist still lookin' for me
But I'm under the pews hiding

 
Thank You Reverend Ellington
Deacon Gillespie
All these people tryna stress me.

Therapist said if I don't take her pills
She'll send the Coppers to arrest me

   Nat King Cole Baptize my soul
 
   
And don't try to size me up for no Coffin
I only like flowers I can smell

"No, no, I wont take Desyrel."

 
Can't think about no dying
Until I hear Sweet Aretha sing

Until then,  I'll be doing this rhyming thing

 

Until I've given all that I can give
Until then
 I'll live 

and live

 and live

 

             	Michael Ellis
Categories: goodman, anxiety, depression, endurance, extended
Form: Rhyme

Benny Goodman, Band Leader

Benny Goodman, Band Leader


A letter was left in mailbox I wanted to see

Which had been only meant for me;

When I opened it and did read;

Was about a band someone did lead.


Last name was Goodman and first Benny;

Times we played together had been many;

For music he always had a natural knack;

Fans wanted him to keep coming back.


People would cheer and hands clap;

Him on his back would often slap;

Great music put you in the mood

After his band you heard and viewed.


Now that the days have all gone by,

And here at home I often cry;

Many happy times there had been;

Wish God would bring him back again.


jthorn5656@atmc.net
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goodman, music,
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Miss Christy Sambristy, a Little Tale

Miss Christy Sambristy had way too much hair!
When you visited, hair was on every couch, and chair.
It stretched all the way outside her blue and red door!
If she tried cutting it, the hair just grew
                   more and more!

It was a diddly-dop puzzle; what on earth would she do!
She tried running away but the hair caught in her shoe!
She tried braiding it, but the braid spilled out onto the street.
People  had to jump up and down to avoid stepping on it
                 with their feet.

One day a man, name of Mr. H. Goodman Sinclaire
said “I could make many coats with those reddish locks there”
He was a coatmaker, turned scraps into coats he gave away
to poor children absolutely, completely, in every way
                making their day!

He called his friend, Moquilla R. Gorilla, and told his plan
Can you call somebody to help us, if you please, my man? 
Moquilla thumped his chest 5 times, called gorillas far and near
Miss Christy Sambristy will give us her hair, if we can
                  find a shear.

He read the Gorilla directions book for hair-cutting ways.
It won't be easy to find this, it may take twenty days.
So bring me some shark fins dipped in green ocean foam
He spread it on every hair, ON EVERY LAST HAIR HE PUT 
                  green ocean foam!

Miss Christy Sambristy is one happy girl
Her hair is short enough now to curl
Mr. H. Goodman Sinclaire is happy, too
He decided to take all the poor children
                  to the zoo!

Did I mention it took three hundred and one
fat gorillas to carry Miss Christy's
                  hair home!

March 31, 2023
for "Write A Sweet Fairy Tale for Children with a Happy Ending, etc. contest
by B.J. Legros Kelley
© Ann Peck  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goodman, 1st grade, child, happy,
Form: Rhyme

It's All About the Benjamins

Affleck, Bailey, Banneker, Bernanke, Big, Blue,

Button, Crenshaw, Disraeli, Dover, Folds, Franklin, 

Gazzara, Goodman, Graham, Harper, Harrison, Hogan, 

Kingsley, Johnson, Kweller, Netanyahu, Parsons, 

Roethlisberger, Spock, Stein, Stiller, Turpin, Uncle, Vereen, 

… and Jerry
Categories: goodman, funny
Form: Free verse

Folksingers

There once were some Weavers
Who taught many of us to sing.
But it wasn't until much later in life
That their music would be my thing.

 I never followed Pete Seeger
 As his words with me didn't gel.
 It would not be until years later
 That others would finally tell.

   Peter, Paul, and Mary grabbed my attention
   With their skill, their courage, their art.
   Of all the groups that I have listened to
   They are closest to my heart.

      Others garnered my attention
      Donovan, Dylan, and Kingston Trio too.
      I'd love to listen and sing along
      As if every note was new.

        Steve Goodman was a true artist
        In his words of truth and form.
        Folksingers come in every age
        Croce's works were not the norm.

          How I do love to listen to them singing
          Or in some cases just strumming away.
          The one regret I have in all of this...
          I never learned how to play.
© Dan Cwiak  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goodman, memory, music, remember,
Form: Rhyme

Bought With Gold,Sold On Green ,Wrote In Blood

where go those men with dignified eye's
who stand against the wall facing a volley of fire
ready to drop dead,blind folded and bound
all knowing and waiting for destiny's sound
where goe's the justice promised us all
for there aint no justice in where these men fall
the crime they committed was to stand for their right's
but corporate suit's don't stand in the fight
don't stand for no cause less it's golden or green
sat counting their money in number's obscene
they're building their bridges over city's and town's
and all in their way become's dust on the ground
so take to the bank's and withdraw all your cash
spend it on  freedom and have the last laugh
the world and it's structure will fall into flame's
afterward's Goodman will build it again
the same men blindfolded and stood against the wall
will pick up their brother's from were once they fall
will pick up their shovel's ,hammer's and nails
and search on together for a new holy grail.
Categories: goodman, life, social, song-men, men,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member My Time Machine

My chair, 
at times over 
the past twelve weeks
my prison cell. 
Seven weeks more 
before my sentence
is completed. 
But today,
my chair is going to be
my time machine.

Not flashy and gaudy,
with a Christmas display
of flashing, colorful lights,
nor as threatening as that
celebrated machine of H.G. Wells. 
I sit in my time machine.
With headphones and
tablet, I am able to 
travel to Vienna to hear
Mozart and Beethoven,
to be in the audience
with the screaming horde
witnessing the Beatle’s
first appearance at
the Ed Sullivan Theater.

Perhaps I will sit
in the historic Carnegie Hall,
for the 1938 Jazz Concert
with Benny Goodman, Lionel
Hampton, Gene Krupa, 
Harry James and Teddy Wilson,
hearing in person, “Sing, Sing, Sing”
and, “Bei Mir Bist Du Schon”.

Or shall I travel to the Civil War
battlefields of Stephen Crane,
to Guadacanal, or Iwo Jima,
to Ireland and William Butler Yeats
speaking his magical words?

Shall I travel inter-dimensionally
to Asimov’s Foundation, or
Frank Herbert’s Dune, and
the future worlds of Heinlein,
with a detour to Tolkein’s
Middle Earth, dodging orcs
and spending a day with 
Tom Bombadil and Goldberry?

The gift of time and
Inter-dimensional travel.
Where shall I travel today?
© 2019, Robert Charles Wagner. All rights reserved.
Categories: goodman, appreciation, blessing, thanksgiving,
Form: Free verse

A Waltz With John Goodman

I imagine a waltz
With John Goodman
Would be a little like
Zorbing,
only instead of rolling down a hill
you'd be rolling around a dance floor.
I'd make sure to wear some stainless
steel shoes, as well.
Categories: goodman, body,
Form: Free verse

My King'

Elvis was the "King of Rock and Roll."
And prior to him, there was Nat "King" Cole.
Roy Rogers was known as "King of the Cowboys;"
And NASCAR's "King," Richard Petty, could sure make some noise.

King Kong climbed the Empire State,
While a king cobra hides in the grass and waits.
Refer to Benny Goodman as the "King of swing,"
But if you seek tasty meals, go see Burger King.

During the 60's, TV's Sky King flew his plane overhead,
The King Ranch in Texas is a very huge spread'
People whose last name is King are easy to find.
Martin, Don, Rodney, and Alan quickly come to mind.

A childhood game-which many adults play still,
Is to see who'll remain as "King of the Hill."
Some are heroes, some villains; some may not be well known.
But all will end up beneath six feet of ground.

I follow another King who supercedes these.
He is called "Immanuel" and "Prince of Peace."
His earthly existence was only thirty-three years,
Yet He experienced temptation, hurt, and yes....even tears'

Jesus is the One who walked this old sod,
Our Saviour, Redeemer, the Great Son of God.
I have read in the Bible what He has to say,
And I read His  promise to return and catch me away'

Future life in Heaven is not all He will give;
For He directs us now in the ways we should live.
That's why we'll worship Him 'til the end.
For He is our dearest, sweetest, most intimate friend.
And daily His mightily praised we sing;
Glory to Jesus- the King of all Kings'

                                                            Arthur Ball (H.S.L.P.)
                                                            February 25,2007
Categories: goodman, faith
Form: Rhyme

Tonite

(this brownarmed girl will sleep
with goodman)

testing the white waters at lunch
she in a blushless
cheesecloth frock
chaperoned by one vased fuchsia forget
me not

coyly sipping cantharis tea
verbalizing
circling a triangle
words slipping from breath moistened lips
like fire thirsty moths quenched by flame
washing their hands
clean of angelcake memories

she keeps a picture by his bed
a stranger and the children
in sun day best
& each night is the longest month of the year
© Dort James  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goodman, passion,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Sorry Present

I want to say I’m sorry - your present looks like that.
It wasn’t kicked by UPS or pummeled with a bat

The master wrappers I prefer, simply aren’t around
A slow economy got them or the covid cut them down.

My boys at Neiman Marcus, I miss those guys so much
and the girls Bergdorf Goodman had such a subtle touch

the lacy Le Bon Marché ribbons, are what set their work apart
no matter where you placed those gifts, they always looked like art

I miss those tasteful craftsmen, but instead of being depressed
I watched some Youtube lessons - and I tried my very best
but the present came out so miserably, I thought I should confess
Categories: goodman, christmas, giving, humor, teen,
Form: Rhyme
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