Best Have A Blast Poems
Sometimes I wonder.........
Where will I be when I get old
Who will love me for my soul
Thoughts of loneliness cross my mind
Am I running out of time?
It’s so scary in this desolate place
Staring out a window into space
What have I done during my time here on earth?
Who will be waiting on me? Did I earn my worth?
Life passes by really fast
Always thought my time would last
Thinking of my people that have gone on before me
Do they know…...Is that where they’ll be?
Remembering the last smile I saw on his face
Will I have to run his same race
Will they leave me alone to think of my time of the past
Or will they surround me to celebrate and have a blast
Pictures and memories is all that’s left
Tear after tear while I take deep breaths
Stones and lettered monument will be there for me
The sunshine and the storms pass while I sleep
In this narrow place I will lie
Unable to speak, unable to cry
Thy will is done and now time moves on
Who is next? Who will be gone?
Sometimes I wonder……………
By Johnnie Eaves
Those Youthful Days Were Intensely Sweet
In poetic words, disillusionment I often paint,
about a wild man that was never a saint.
A life that raced into darkness in such haste,
never seeing the coming misery and waste!
There were hills of thrills to happily scale
never thinking of either heaven or hell.
I grabbed the pleasures that deep lust demands
while dancing to music of rock n roll bands!
O' yes, those youthful days were intensely sweet
now in my maturity I find that this I must meet
Reality of my faded memories shall not last
and every day a challenge to have a blast.
Time has a way of delivering its greatest hits.
Memories found false, one rarely forgets.
Robert J. Lindley 1-19-2015
Note: Memories even if bitter sweet, are still gold
when one wants to frolic in the past and ponder
the what-ifs, the if-only's and the I should-of's...
You know you are old when you look back more than you look forward methinks. Old age, the great equalizer..
When I sit alone with my memories
My mind drifts back to the early 60s
When folk music was all the rage
The New Christy Minstrels, Peter Paul and Mary
The Brothers Four, The Limelighters, The Kingston Trio
The Canadiana Folksingers... who?????
A six member group called The Canadiana Folksingers
Included myself and my first wife Linda
Along with two guitar players and and a one-string bass
And I played the five-string banjo
Did we have a blast? Oh yah!
Made an album called “This Land Is Your Land”
And a 45 rpm single called, “Hi Jolly!”
Along with appearances on both
Of the only two Canadian TV Networks at the time
My memories of those days long ago fill me with pride and tears
We can't go back but we can dream
About when we were young
And the world was ours to explore!
© Jack Ellison 2014
Fear of rejection can come to us all
Feeling alone like facing the wall
All the outside just staring in
If only they could see what is within
Not feeling the spirit from all around
Just want to hide, open up the ground!
Rejection can come in many forms
From playground antics and college dorms
It can even turn up in a relationship
Too change this one shoot from the hip
To tackle rejection do it head on
Find out why and remain strong
Is it emotional or is it social
Both of these are psychological
They can be treated and sorted out
But remain calm try not to shout
Rejection can cause anger and aggression
External and even inward explosion
Don't blame yourself as this you don't need
Find a safe place, breathe slowly or read
A reason for this thought you won't find
It's a receptor buried deep in the mind
Studies say it's from out evolutionary past
They managed, so keep calm have a blast
Emotional pain is hard to ignore
Stay positive and don't become a bore
Pick yourself up and find the light
Then your life will start to be bright
Keep working on the little things
Then you will find what happiness brings
True friends these days are really hard to find
No one does anything for anyone, ulterior motive on their mind
Help because you want to just to be kind
Not because you feel you can't decline
A true friend can say anything without fear
And a true friend won't be offended by what you share
A true friend your soul to them you can bare
And a true friend you can turn to when shedding a tear
So why is finding this true friend such a hard task?
And if it's so hard will the friendship really last?
Will it be worth the wait and as friends we'll have a blast?
What if I have missed them and my true friends' already passed?
Like a soul mate I believe you have one true friend in life
Someone who's always there in good and in strife
Someone to give and receive some advice
Someone who is true and without a price!
Winning contests pleases folk;
Losing makes ‘em shrug.
Write a lot and go for broke;
Get that writing bug.
Try new forms and have a blast;
Enter, have a ball.
Nothing wrong with coming last;
Laugh about it all.
for Joe’s I just can’t win contest
Using the 7/5 trochee, a form created by Andrea
Friday night's here at last ...lets have a blast.
Teenagers dash to discos ...ready to dance
to throbbing beats and combo drums
rythm and blues....kicked off shoes
as rock and roll pours out the heat..
Swaying along... couples dance and sing
swinging to the beat ...that's everything.
reggae to hip hop....... rap and soul
stir up emotions but take its toll.
Kissing and necking .....lips close around bottle necks
draining the draft.....drowning the thought of dreary days gone by
no thought of days to come...or care about outcome.
Older women start weekend cleaning.
Scouring cupboards, doing laundry,
dusting tops... flying mops
vacuming carpets...putting out garbage
no end in sight for the chores to be done
till the night is come and work is done
they slog and clean... till everything gleams.
Old men hurry to the corner bars
for a drink, a chat and a meeting with pals
to watch the wrestling match.....on the TV screen.
Till mignight they stay.. drinking their way through
bottles of beer, whiskey and rum
till their eyes water...and tongues grow numb.
Home to their wives they weave a crooked path
can't even see their way in the dark
Cursing themselves for drinking too much
now sitting ducks for thugs on the watch.
They wake up next morning asleep on the couch
shoes in their pockets ......stale breath in their mouths.
Money's gone...so too are wife and sons.
yet never has there been a house so clean.
Have they learnt a lesson...we shall never know
for the habits continue every Friday night
No one seems to get it right
Enjoy your weekends....but maintain self - repect
for when that is lost...what comes next.?
It's been two months since I wrote
I promised myself I'll put it on a post it note
Words won't come out I've been choked
Someone call the police my mind has commented a crime
Sitting weeping in my spare time
Pain flipped my life like a dime
My first love stripped from my grasp
No longer could I let this last
I'm picking up my pen today, and from this point on
my pen and I we're gonna have a blast!!!!!!
Form:
Last night I had a long and restless night,
I couldn't sleep, I tried with all my might.
I couldn't get the “ phrase 24 hrs out of my head,
so next thing you know I stumbled out of my bed.
And I began to think about my life and all that I had done,
I thought about my many failures and victories I had won.
But I thought about having only 24 hrs left,
would I be selfish and only think about self
Yes, I have to make my wrongs right,
strive to love and not give up the fight.
I will try my best to be the version of me
and forgive others and let bygones flee.
I have no time to hold a grudge
or sit around and misjudge.
I just want to live my very best life
and let go of misery and strife.
Spend valuable time with my precious babies,
forget about the should have beens and maybes.
Our time on earth goes by extremely fast,
so with my 24 hrs I will strive to have a blast.
Alexis Y.
10-26-18
I told myself to calm down-ish
Don't be annoyed by the clownish
Actions of your old ex
When he tried to show and flex
His muscles to other women
And the sweetness he is givin'
Trying to make your jealous heart
Start to cry and fall apart
Thinking he is being missed
His actions you just dismiss
Thinking back into the past
When you used to have a blast
Love was so new and exciting
Both you hearts were so inviting
To the prospect of a love
That was sent from up above
It was good until he started
To leave you so broken hearted
Flirting with others as you
Started to see clue after clue
Where his mind and heart have been
Making up excuses when
He had to come home so late
Though he was really on a date
Leaving you home slowly thinking
How this love was fastly sinking
You can't take it anymore
So when he comes through the door
He finds all his things are gone
Scattered all across the lawn
In a rage of fit as you
Happily say "we are through"
Now seeing him different places
With so many pretty faces
Your so glad you are not the
One he will leave unhappy
Simple Musings By A Southern Poet,
Part One
Lips of honey glisten like dew
does life listen when one begs
a drink, yes just a snort or two
until one can not feel their legs,
marvelous the smell of winter's breath
fireplace warmth, so snugly inside
yes, one can truly so fear death
then can find nowhere to hide,
Laugh at the futility of crying
when hope awaits praying words
of course great despair is not dying
when dawn glory awards sweet songbirds,
forest speaks in images soft cast
its true desires oft by man unknown
some did in their youth have a blast
my how swiftly Father Time has flown,
Long for treasures are oft forbidden
as are splinters from wooden shoes
horse that has never been ridden
and thus never knows mortal blues,
live to find a beautiful lover true
with ample attributes so abundant
life and living, strangely up to you
tho' oft some days are redundant.
Robert J. Lindley, 12-15-2019
Rhyme, Simple musings,
() Yes, I'd like another shot or two )
Come and stay we urged them.
We’ll have a blast!
We did not have blast.
They came two days too early.
We were prepared in no way.
Worst visit ever.
Last one also.
A misconception is the tale
that witches wear such evil faces
That we should dread October's spell
or cloudy nights, and creepy spaces
A wart-nosed witch that rides a broom
is not the girl who lives next door
who hides away, some lonely room
She may be fair, she may be more
Have you met a lonely ghoul
who names her spiders Mold and Slime?
Brewing potions, but is no fool
We'll pass her by most every time
Witches pass us by each day
They don't play games of hide and seek
Ghouls are clever and want to play
and normal friends they want to meet
The cauldron cleaned with spit and shine
will brew a drink that's rather bold
Prepared to hold a drink of wine
Beware that it will knock you cold!
She'll host a party, if you dare!
Sweep misconceptions out the door
You'll have a blast if you're prepared
The witch is just a neighbor right next door!
_________________________________________
For Alfred's Contest: Witchcraft 8/23/14
I want to tell you a story that will not end with the glory,
Of a good friendship gone gory, come on drink the drink from my flask.
You have backstabbed me through my worst, so come on now, do quench your thirst,
And to be buzzed, you will be first; I know you’re love to have a blast.
Thanks for helping me; you’re the only one who could help with this task.
Come on, let us bury the past.
Do you remember my good friend, often times you try to pretend?
Saying in you, I should depend, masked people must take off their mask.
Behind my back you were lying, in revenge now I’m applying,
Like in your lies you were trying, to avoid whatever I ask.
And now you will feel, what I was feeling, on the wrath that I cast,
Go on; drink the drink from my flask.
Do you feel inebriated, perhaps too intoxicated?
It seems your vision has faded, my, you have gotten drunk so fast.
Come on help me mix this caustic, hurry now! Is it too toxic?
It’s not harmful; you won’t get sick, be careful it could give a blast.
I push him in, but he don’t fit, so now I had to use my rasp,
I vowed my revenge, so take in your breath; it is to be your last.
And now in this drum you will bask.
You have done me this way too long; lying, stealing; the same old song,
And in life you do not belong, for it’s your lies that are too vast.
I’m done with my contemplating and your death I am awaiting,
Should I go, I am debating, now you’re time in there has surpassed.
I am not like you; I take it further, can you see the contrast?
For your help, it’s an A, you passed.
Sips of liquor is what it took, to rid this liar, thief, and crook,
Now entombed in this little nook, I wipe the germs off of my flask.
And though he’s dead, I am upset, because my clothes and shoes are wet,
And for this day I won’t forget; my senses I begin to grasp.
But for now all of my problems are floating, in acid and gas,
There they’ll dwell, in the wooden cask.
_____________________________________
For Elaine George's 'Tell me a story' contest
The form is Trochaic Octameter
Iambic pentameter serves as the substitute.
The Pirate and the Sea
Come sail to sea with me
Let me show ye how it’s done
Sailing that is, I’m not the only one
Let’s go sailing on the sea
Many a storm, thar will be
But yer life has just begun
Look up and see the shining sun
Did you hear that loud boom?
Just listen’ ta them thar drums
Tonight they be drinking rum
As pirates we’ll have a blast
Ye’ll be dying whilst yer young
Ship’s a sinking fast
Life at sea really be such fun