Best Gotta Poems
I think no stimulus could be
as potent as the one to pee.
A feeling frequent and innate
is this - the urge to urinate.
It comes each day to everyone
at work, at play, or on the run.
It comes sometimes as home you drive,
and soon you're hoping to survive
the bursting of your inner dam
while sitting in a traffic jam.
Then down the street you drive distressed
with thighs together tightly pressed.
You wish so badly it would cease
and then you pray for sweet release.
And as you drive, you ache and ache
and curse that drink you had to take.
You want to speed, but big surprise -
a cop's behind you. Squeeze those thighs
to keep inside what wants to flow!
You do not dare to let it go.
Few impulses can so compare.
Oh, how you'd love a diaper there!
Then home at last, you do a dance.
You run while pulling down your pants.
And horror, if when once inside,
you find the bathroom occupied!
WEll, just be glad it's mountain dew
you're holding in, not number two!
Love’s journey, joy and tears,
Guided by grace through all the years.
Gotta love, in every guise,
Each chapter cherished, beneath the skies.
True love with God, tranquil and pure,
Promises eternal, pristine and sure.
Divine devotion, a destined delight,
Faithful forever, in the Father's light.
Memories murmur, melancholy in pairs.
Gone is the glow, a grievous gap glares,
Whispered words weep, wounds within deep.
Separation's sorrow, shadows silently sweep.
Tender touches, time transcends too soon.
She sings softly, serenades under the moon,
Laughter lingers long, lovely in twilight.
Living with love, life's luminous light.
Heartbeats hasten, hopes held high, hues of blue.
In anticipation, ardor awakens anew,
Gotta love the glowing gaze, a girl's gentle bloom.
Glimpses of grace in the gathering gloom.
Tag words: advertising, bebop, bird, bottle, Charlie
Parker, Coca-Cola, Cole Porter, Dizzy Gillespie,
door, flag, heart, jazz, light bulb, Louis Armstrong,
Miles Davis, palette, Pepsi Cola, pluralism – found
object, retablo painting, sculpture
Arbitrary or subconscious, Saunders picked six.
Man created on the sixth day from darkness;
we came into the light, of knowing, of naming.
Satan, sin held within, black of skin. Oh,
Africa chopped up bleeding, the third world’s
doors shown black, nailed shut. With the skin
of drums, the heel of hand, he pounds the nails
on the trail of the carpenter.
Kept in place, biblical wives of Lot turned to salt,
white-line the globe. White powder, white power,
sugars the unpalpable, addicting, coca leafs and
caffeine, doping the public, the poor for dimes.
Reinforcing the lure of the bottle; the cola bottle
that fell unbroken to earth from the sky in The
God’s Must Be Crazy. Some have always used their
addictions to create. Like a found objects, we too
fall calling to Mother Mary.
After: The Gift of Presence Raymond Saunders 1993
First Published by Ekphrastic Art:writing and art on art and writing
*Lot the nephew of Abraham, husband of Edith
who was turned to salt.
These days my home is a disaster where no neatness is mastered.
For years I did the spic and span scene for a spouse who notices
only the TV screen and our part alien, completely annoying teens.
I eventually deciphered my efforts made none of them nicer or wiser.
I realized that to remain a cleanliness and organizer striver would sooner than later require I take a daily tranquilizer.
In time, I learned my bed was quite a smart desire and the
art of long naps was my perfect mood equalizer. So, why brood
over other family member's feelings when my own felt nicer.
There was a time when dust bunnies reduced me to shame
but, now they’re just fluffy cuties that I individually name.
Whereas I once frequently behaved like a total grump
because all treated our dining table like the local dump,
I now idly ponder when the pile will style a solid ceiling thump.
Home-nest chores of potential upset-tests no longer interest my
new style, but soaking in the tub attracts my delight worthwhile.
My bathroom has become my private, pampering isle.
Magazines to thoroughly savor, tempt me in a dream-flavored pile.
Within that little room I’m managing a pampering cocoon.
Once upon my stress time, I would be cryin’ over clothes
not ironed and family tried neither soothing or inspiring me.
These days my ironing policy is that such is pure folly
and that only laundered attire need be desired. I no longer
grow vacuum sore ‘cause rooms are too trashed for dirt to hit floors.
I am learning to keep my child-like, spontaneous smile
despite any and all house or family trials.
If in this lesson I succeed, that’s all I really, truly and mostly need.
I wish to live and love centered in a state of relaxed
‘cause that’s where my spic and span are truly at.
If she doesnt call you
[ Its because she is waiting for you to call her ]
When she walks away from you mad
[ Follow her ]
When she stare's at your mouth
[ Kiss her ]
When she pushes you or hit's you
[ Grab her and dont let go ]
When she start's cussing at you
[ Kiss her and tell her you love her ]
When she's quiet
[ Ask her whats wrong ]
When she ignore's you
[ Give her your attention ]
When she pull's away
[ Pull her back ]
When you see her at her worst
[ Tell her she's beautiful ]
When you see her start crying
[Just hold her and dont say a word ]
When you see her walking
[ Sneak up and hug her waist from behind ]
When she's scared
[ Protect her ]
When she lay's her head on your shoulder
[ Tilt her head up and kiss her ]
When she steal's your favorite hat
[ Let her keep it and sleep with it for a night]
When she tease's you
[ Tease her back and make her laugh ]
When she doesnt answer for a long time
[ reassure her that everything is okay ]
When she look's at you with doubt
[ Back yourself up ]
When she say's that she like's you
[ she really does more than you could understand ]
When she grab's at your hands
[ Hold her's and play with her fingers ]
When she bump's into you
[ bump into her back and make her laugh ]
When she tell's you a secret
[ keep it safe and untold ]
When she looks at you in your eyes
[ dont look away until she does ]
When she misses you
[ she's hurting inside ]
When you break her heart
[ the pain never really goes away ]
When she says its over
[ she still wants you to be hers ]
- Stay on the phone with her even if shes not saying anything.
- When she's mad hug her tight and don't let go then kiss her
- When she says she's ok dont believe it talk with her
- because 10 yrs later she'll remember you
- Call her at 12:00am on her birthday to tell her you love her
- Call her before you sleep and after you wake
Raped and Molestated in childhood,
Abused and Misused in pre-adulthood,
Alone and confused they stood; feeling
like tainted goods.
Let their soul cry, maybe then; they can
regain their pride.
They gotta let their soul cry
Their darkest secret's they lock away
within, this is why their flesh constantly
feast off sin; and everything in life has a
beginning, but never render an ending.
Let their soul cry, Crying is the only way to
gain their piece of mind.
One might ask," Why"? Then , I will reply,"
They need to see at least one day filled with
promise rather than pain and see the sun
without having rain.
They gotta let their soul cry, before their sin
cause their flesh to die.
Wolf mama here.
howling
taking care of business
feeding my cubs
tearing apart others
seeing them as food
Wolf mama here
cubs see me as playful
i can be
the hidden mom of me
well tucked-in when
the time comes
to turn other creatures
into food.
Wolf mama here
warning i am wise
and stealthy and
when i take a prisoner
it is for good
cubs gotta eat
hear the howling?
Wolf mama here
Gotta hate somebody;
someone's always wrong.
Gotta hate somebody;
we just can't get along.
If it ain't for the color,
it'll be for the creed.
We judge the deed by the doer
and not the man by the deed.
Well, draw the line and pick a side:
There's only black and white.
We both stand for peace and love;
but we can't both be right!
You gotta hate somebody.
Gotta hate somebody;
it's so much easier to do---
to put the blame on another
than put the blame on you.
Ain't no conversation
if it's just one side.
Can't be no education
with a heart of pride.
So draw the line and pick a side:
There's only black and white.
We both stand for justice;
but we can't both be right!
You gotta hate somebody.
Gotta hate somebody;
you can't reason with hate.
But if we don't come together
it'll be too late.
If we both want freedom,
it seems simple to me:
We'll have to find some middle ground
and agree to disagree.
Well, tolerance is harder
to practice than to preach;
but you can't have true diversity
if you control the speech.
You can't have equality
if one side has to kneel;
and you can't have compassion
if you don't know how they feel.
So if you hate somebody,
take some time to reflect:
Liberty is a two-way street;
and so are peace and respect.
What you hate in your neighbor
you oughta hate in yourself;
what you want from another
you gotta give someone else.
Well, you may want division,
and you're bristling for a fight---
but we can't have the USA
without both left and right.
Gotta hate somebody?
We best decide what to do;
'cause whether this nation stands or falls
is up to me and you.
Books to the library
photos to family.
Paint cans and lumber
from renovations years ago.
Most of the furniture
including the piano.
Fastest way to do this
is rent a dumpster.
On the internet
nothing’s permanent.
I like that.
Photosynthesis, evaporation
as if your spirit disappears
when the sun appears.
It’s a burden lifted
not to have to persevere.
Edits
for clarity
and brevity.
One owes the reader
a respite from
the tonnage of
fructifying English.
To drown one’s book is devoutly to be wished.
Coupla trumpets,
big comfy couch,
four beds and dressers
and the contents of closets.
Tools we don’t use,
surge protectors and chargers,
lawn and patio accoutrements,
table settings for ten.
Lamplit underground,
the stray branch,
synchronized chaos,
a red fez.
One canary,
map of Antarctica,
three deaf little otoliths,
six or seven sybils.
Extra salt and pepper shakers,
sharpies and crayons,
a printer and a scanner,
the Bible and Koran.
Kaput calculators and computers,
subscriptions and prescriptions,
a host of vitamins
and the ghosts of ancestors.
Time itself
but not nature.
Wealth
and most of culture
but not my health.
That I’ll keep,
and sleep—practice
for perfect rest.
DAMN it, you stupid old fart!
Why did you pull out THAT cart?
That cart with the wobbly front wheel
And it squeaks! (How embarrassed I feel)
Oops! Beg your pardon sweet ma'am
Yes, I know who I think that I am
(Crash) Oh good god mercy me
"CLEAN-UP ON AISLE NUMBER THREE"
Dachshund headgear:
Weenie
Beenie
Frankfurter for a Dachshund:
Weenie
Weenie
Grouchy Dachshund:
Meany
Weenie
Un-cool Terrier:
Dorky
Yorkie
A Terrier who pigs out too often might become a:
Porky
Yorkie
Spaniel dog breeder:
Cocker
Stocker
Parrot who mimics a Spaniel's bark:
Cocker
Mocker
Book on how to care for Cockers:
Spaniel
Manuel
Originally from England, a well-rounded Spaniel stays in shape by playing:
Cocker
Soccer
Then showers and dresses by its:
Cocker
Locker
Lassie was a level-headed dog and never engaged in:
Collie
Folly
Reared in a loving environment, she was a rather:
Jolly
Collie
Bred in the capitol city of NC, making her a:
Raleigh
Collie
To commemorate her frequent visits to New Orleans, a streetcar was renamed the:
Collie
Trolley
Snoopy immigrated to the States but alas, was found not to be a:
Legal
Beagle
Which of course drove:
Snoopy
Loopy
Thus he was deported back to England but was promptly knighted by the Queen becoming a:
Regal
Beagle
Now a celebrity, he is blessed with an entourage of young beagle admirers named:
Snoopy's
Groupies
*Submitted for The Funny Kid’s Poem Contest sponsored by Team Poetry Soup
I feel like writing some material
To see if it's for real
Desperation setting in
Knocking me out like at the beginning
Trespassing, on the intrusive messaging
Who am I fooling ?
If only my thoughts were elusive
Maybe then I wouldn't be so exclusive
Should not stop my verses,
Can't handle these curses
Like my passion for hot nurses
Who ain't got 10 purses
I breathe eventually and recap on my story,
From point A to point B
Yoyo-ing through the commotion
Of accepting that you know you may know nothing
Confusing? That's my thing
Who wants to over complicate?
Not me mate.
I've been talking for a while now
Like I took a vow
To keep up the beat
And make it hit it deep;
Laughter is infectious, laughter is the key
To a long happy life, with smiles guaranteed
A life filled with joy
For all girls and boys
Sorry, must end this, gotta go pee!
© Jack Ellison 2015
What I’ve got against the rain is not the drippy wet,
because it hasn't melted me, well, at least not yet.
It’s those clouds!
Gloomy shrouds.
I’d rather soak up sunshine and turn it into sweat.
Summer night, scared stiff
Trying to pay for condoms
With a rubber check