Best Hat Poems
Medicine Hat Appaloosa
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Remember free will too has been gifted,
with freedom allied to fate's fickle choice.
Tendered words uttered still..now uplifted,
God provides each one a life and a voice.
Ere life ebbs and scrimshaw scrolled hands beckon,
find strength in Medicine Hat horse's paint.
Flesh prized and spirit bold, yet to reckon,
respectful head bowed, pray it isn't too late.
Of sarcasm's sharp sword, one can ill afford,
cursed hubris' price which is never repaid.
The cost of soul's vows torn in broken chord,
word's sting or solemn praised tapestry made.
To cheat one's own heart with standard-less staff,
turned now to stone, to write lone epitaph.
Poet's note: The Medicine Hat Appaloosa is the poem.
Quoth TheRaven - 7 July 2019
Categories:
hat, 6th grade, earth, god,
Form:
Sonnet
The hat hangs on the wall,
not as a relic,
but as a witness—
to mornings that began before the sun
had made up its mind,
to arguments with weather
and the quiet pacts signed in sweat.
Below, the boots—
faded, cracked, obedient,
still loyal to the shape of a man
who walked with purpose,
even when purpose was
just getting through the day.
They are not symbols,
though we make them so.
They are not sacred,
though we treat them gently,
as if disturbing them
might sever the bond
that holds the past
to the present.
And yet—
the window is open.
The light is not wistful,
but new.
The boots do not mourn.
The hat does not sag.
They wait,
as all things wait
for the next hand,
the next step,
the next story
to begin.
Categories:
hat, change, endurance, health, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
There's a breed of Aussie hero who has served this nation well
and they don a yellow uniform to face the fires of hell.
When day temperatures are soaring and the high winds blow a gust,
and our bushland is ignited it's in them we place our trust.
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son;
you are mothers and you’re fathers. Hard hat heroes everyone.
When their mates are in the hot seat and they need a helping hand,
they will volunteer their services from stations 'cross this land.
Whether country towns or cities or a bush fire brigade;
they will gladly throw their hats in and will offer their mates aide.
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son;
you are mothers and you’re fathers. Hard hat heroes everyone.
Do you owe your home or property, your very lives perhaps,
to the selfless, sincere efforts of these bold fire-fighting chaps?
Or still sadly you lost everything, but proudly can attest
to their fierce determination as each brave soul did their best.
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son;
you are mothers and you’re fathers. Hard hat heroes everyone.
So I ask you all to join me as we stand and raise a glass
to the courage and the spirit of this fire fighting, class;
and I'm sure you'd love to join me as this message we impart,
"You're such true blue hard hat heroes and we thank you from the heart."
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son;
you are mothers and you’re fathers. Hard hat heroes everyone.
Categories:
hat, people, song-daughter, fire, daughter,
Form:
Ballad
Like Harry Potter, the sorting hat (my mom)
has placed me in a bloody, crimson colored school.
It’s disorienting, as I go about, the logos are wack.
Poor little rich girl
no beachside lovers
this interminable, scorching summer.
I’m swept up by scholastic spirit.
Can you hear it? Cause it’s deafening me,
on this cool, dry, Boston orientation day.
As we finished our morning 8k jog,
the sunrise blossomed, painting hot lava clouds
with hues of yellow, orange and pink.
We’re traipsing unfamiliar paths,
It’s not what we’re used to, the roads are uneven
and the architecture’s all boxy and wrong.
.
.
Songs for this:
New Toy by Lene Lovich
Better After All by Jonatha Brooke
Now At Last by Feist
Categories:
hat, daughter, education, humor, morning,
Form:
Free verse
Hat-ni-sta you are a classy, intelligent, and ambitious lady
take the compliment, not being shady
Hat-ni-sta what a sexy, sexy Mademoiselle
I adore the hat, the dress as well
enjoy the journey, live your life
ignore the haters, their jealousy, and bitter strife!!!!
Hat-ni-sta you caught my eye and stole my heart
I have so much to say, taking my time trying to be smart
Hat-ni-sta every single night I dream of you
pretty lady, do you even have a clue.
Hat-ni-sta I'm ready for the journey, please lead the way
I have many, many thoughts, but only this to say
Hat-ni-sta seeing you, this will be a great day.
Categories:
hat, adventure, appreciation, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Rhyme
They hung around the beer joint with the finest Western wear
with thumbs tucked in their belt loops and such a studly air.
But those boots weren't made for stirrups and were polished to a sheen,
and on those fancy cowboy hats not a sweat stain could be seen.
You could be sure they hadn't spent much time around a branding pot,
for the only brands they recognized were ones on stuff they bought.
And if they ever passed the time just musing 'bout their spread,
it'd be the one around their middle or the one they put on bread.
Just a bunch of cowboy wannabes in a modern masquerade,
but they drove the biggest pickup trucks that Detroit ever made.
The beds were big and beautiful without a scratch or scuff inside,
'cause the only thing they hauled around was a horse's big backside.
As they stood around outside the joint, in a smart-ass state of mind,
in pulled an ancient pickup with an old horse trailer hitched behind.
The truck an old green Chevy, year 'bout nineteen fifty-nine,
with two high wooden sideboards stacked with hay bales bound with twine.
Out stepped a skinny hombre, with steel-blue eyes and bandy legs,
but he had a rippling six-pack while all the boozers sported kegs.
His cowboy hat was sweat-stained; high-heeled boots were dusty gray;
he kicked off a chunk of cow pie, then he grabbed a bale of hay.
He was mighty parched and dusty, but he wouldn't quench his thirst
'cause you're not an honest cowboy unless you water horses first.
The pack of fools gave out a hoot, yelled "Hey there, Texas Pete!
Get yourself a man-sized truck and take that geezer off the street!"
As he finished with the horses, up walked two ladies smokin' hot.
The cowboy promptly doffed his hat, while the posers there did not.
The cowboy got a long admiring look and the rounders just a sneer,
as the sham was so apparent when a real cowboy was near
They flashed the dusty cowboy a big ol' smile 'bout ten miles wide...
Said "Honey, would a gent like you care to escort us gals inside?"
He winked, then gave the trucks a look and spat a stream of juice.
Said, "Boys, y'all's might be bigger, but mine gets a sight more use."
Categories:
hat, humorous, old, time, ,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Encage us we are of collective souls
Display us in prisoned wallpaper as ghouls
Send us into these sepsis tanks, in tin cans
in torture dungeons, in faraway lands
Mistaken for us are the migrants
who don’t belong in our black hole,
ripped from their family’s arms,
and broken, it has a toll
Try to discern, unchain me,
give me the time of day
I’ve not done any of what you say
I’m here, do you not see me?
I’m tucked in all of your publicity
Before us you stand prestigious -n- tall,
your toughness shared inside our halls
Donning is the blood red Maga cap a telling of your gang
and Jackboots as they were worn by the Sturmabteilung
Wings reinforced by the sword’s blows, in your case
against the chains that contain, and any empathy inside
Keeping you safe an expressionless speech,
seal the deal it shall seal my unmerciful fate
Judged and sentenced without any assemblance
I see right through your imminent coarse leather, and
by the end of your reign, hard you’ll fall
And later the field forces in which you thrive
rotting torn in shreds, but still alive,
as shall be fathers ripped away from family
Have you not exhausted every remedy for me?
Infection is your reasoning,
concede for me and it shall be litigation of guilt
Rewards you’ve given, they’ve taken
and so, forsaken I be
Regardless of it, they have me in error,
as prison wallpaper
I work in the fields, a visa allows it
I wear pastel colors, a straw hat covers
possessing no tats, what of straw hats
What of straw hats?
Categories:
hat, judgement,
Form:
Free verse
It was way after eight, at the Cat in the Hat.
The whole plaice was swimming, quoth the mackrel to sprat.
Though the milk was upset, she still stifled her cry,
So sorry i spilt you, mumbled poor humble pie.
My joints are the bees knees, squealed the honey roast ham,
And the apple agreed, she was better than spam.
Then red herring denied, he had something to hide,
Like a small Bombay duck, is a fish that is dried.
While tasty choux pastry, bared her soul to an eel,
The mock turtle announced, i believe i am veal.
And the ice cube was crushed, as she played fast and loose,
For an orange refused, to be part of fruit juice.
As warm rhubarb crumble, melts in custards embrace,
The sour gooseberry tart, wails she's taking my place
Then a voice in my head, spoke it's all fantasy.
Your table awaits you, said the waitress to me.
I glanced at the menu, it was all a la carte.
I said, bring me everything, but let's start with that tart.
Categories:
hat, imagination, nonsense,
Form:
Couplet
Wrinkled, worn, and weather-beaten
one old hat sits a loft a dusty shelf.
A witness to individual history,
a vision of days gone by
of both good and bad times,
a garment of many memories.
Like a King's crown,
the hat once sat cocked to the right
over a stern, but wise brow.
Well used and sweat stained,
but worn with dignity and pride
by one unyielding individualist.
A common man by all accounts
of uncommon quality and character.
A man who never lost focus
on the true widgets of life
even when it was at a cost.
A man who once owned:
a pocket full of dreams,
a desire for pure freedom,
a true lust for life,
and one old hat.
Categories:
hat, life,
Form:
Free verse
Oh, how could I ever be bored?
When I had such interesting chores.
I had to paint our bedroom door,
Then mop the grand, speckled floor.
Walked quickly down to the shore,
And dug hidden clams with the oar.
Made a tasty clam-supper for four,
Then into their big bowls I poured.
Knowing, they would yell for more,
Prompting my tender voice to roar -
All gone, there's more at the store!
Or take a lantern to search the shore.
However, they cost more at the store,
But not a penny, to dig with the oar.
Oh, I'm sure you will not get bored,
Performing such an interesting chore.
For soon in bed, I will sweetly snore,
With a sound much louder than yours.
Last night the paint actually, tore,
From the ceiling and door, it poured.
And that is why, I happily wore,
That Silly Old Hat Of Yours.
Categories:
hat, family, mother, wife,
Form:
Couplet
A Hat is a Personality
Tip it forward, graciously
Angle it sideways, rakishly
~ Tilt its brim back, thoughtfully
Categories:
hat, character, fashion, people,
Form:
Personification
She wore a tiffany hat with a bow and six big plumes of red and white,
it had an ultra wide asymmetrical brim that rolled up to one side.
When it came to dames like this I believe God ran out of humble stock !
She wore pompadour shoes, like she had nothing to lose
and rouge so red it made the cardinals have fainting spells !
Her hair was soaked in henna, elderberry & radish extract,
and I believe her dress was stitched in the boudoir of coco-channel!
She was a nouveau riche reveling in her new found fame
and everything in her life was right as rain until that fatal day,
when her hat expanded 10 x its size, growing past her shoulders
like a great big beast, of leavened yeast!
Her hat pins strained from the strain of those great big plumes,
moaning and groaning from her lithe walk and all that perfume !
Then First World War arrived and suddenly it was unpatriotic
to be concerned with one's appearance !
She was no Rockefeller and didn't own a rupee nor a heller,
so she became a steadfast loyal dame, like dear old Helen Keller .
What happened to that big old hat, with the plumes of red and white ?
She stewed it, brewed it, boiled it down then poured it in a flask,
and yes she drank it slowly,... just in case you thought to ask !
March 30/ 2025
Categories:
hat, analogy, humorous,
Form:
Narrative
Why does my new girlfriend always wear a cowboy hat
She lives in the big city in a high rise council flat
I gazed up at the window of her flat up in the sky
And when I did a bloody pigeon did one in my eye
So as I walked away I’m wiping poop to clear my sight
But droppings kept on plopping on my shoulders left and right
All I could do was duck and dive and try to dodge the splats
I looked around and everyone was wearing cowboy hats
Categories:
hat, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
HAT POWER
My Hat is a rush a power to my head
wear a hat every day or as often as you are lead
hat love and hat passion I must spread
ladies without your hat, your entire look
is in shreds.
Please take note, this is not a quote
if it's not saying something,
it's doing nothing
if it's not doing anything
It's not worth nothing
my hat is a rush of power to my head.
Hat Power Yaaaasss!!!!!
Categories:
hat, beautiful, character, confidence, culture,
Form:
Free verse
one day I met a new little friend from that
day my life would begin again he made me
laugh alot we was always out and about
on rainy days we would run in the house
and he would chase a mouse he was my best
friend and I miss him
one day I got bad news he got loose and ran
away I looked all day but my cat was gone
away never to return oh how I yearn for my
my best friend I lost my best friend I
lost a part of my life I will always
wait for you my pet my little friend til
the end.
in dedication to my little cat Mooda
Copyright@July2005
Categories:
hat, animalsday, friend, best friend,
Form:
Rhyme