Best Homie Poems
Derek we miss you; Derek we love you,
We were homies, we were family there was nothing we couldn't do.
I can't say goodbye because you ain't really gone,
In my head and in my heart you will always live on.
Only seventeen with a baby on the way,
Don't worry homie we all gonna be okay.
But how could you leave us man how could you go,
Why God took you is something I just don't know.
I'm gonna be here for your baby and I'm gonna be here for your 'lil girl,
I only wish you were here to bring your baby into this world.
Sitting here alone, can't help but wonder why,
What was going through you head why you had to die.
I'm gonna see you soon I'll promise you that,
You know how we do, you know where your gurl's at.
I'm praying for you and for 'lil Whoaty,
I'm only going to say
Rest In Peace Homie
Oh the glory! Of this my story
Upon a colossal, metallic beast
Did I sail, for many a year
Every ocean and sea, seemed the vastness of eternity
My name is Arthur Homer Creed, AKA -“Homie”
Chief Petty Officer, United States Navy
My job, dangerous as it was
Was my one true love.
Director on the flight deck
Of an aircraft carrier
We cruised from Japan to Quebec
The scream of the jet
Was Mozart to my ear,
Adrenaline rush
Newbies full of fear-
But taught them all I did,
To be safe and stay on the grid
To catch a Tomcat became second nature-
And soon, for the novice, a breathtaking adventure.
How I adored the hues of sunset
And the smell of intensity from a jet
Off we sent them,
In the fury of a screaming cat
A hundred miles up they would fly
While we waited to catch them
From a dismissive sky.
“Chief Homie“, my flyboys called me
I was their father, and mentor out to sea
Their only family.
The young ones who were here to serve,
This great battleship,
Only the best did they deserve.
Into ports we swept
Alluring the girls, and scoring some drink,
Then back to the ship we went
Refreshed, relaxed and ready to think.
Onward another month or two we sailed,
18 hours days,
Through high winds and formidable gales.
Then the time came to get serious
There was a threat
The “Old Man” was furious -
F-18’s sent to the Middle East
Dropping bombs
In the name of peace.
Sorties flown day and night,
Blackout ship- we were trying to hide
Manning all battle stations,
This was a defensive action.
Through the bulkhead it came -
Crashing, crushing, killing, exploding
Entire ship, quickly eroding.
This projectile -
Erasing the faces I had known,
My legs, I saw, off were blown-
I grabbed the hatch
To keep
This hell from reaching others,
Up on deck.
Heaving it shut
With all I had left
I got that watertight hatch closed
Then I knew I was dead-
As the water enveloped my head,
I could no longer breathe -
Sea pouring in all around me.
I saved that ship, and those boys
From dying that day-
Or so I suppose,
Because I hear their praises
Sung to me -
In my watery grave,
Under the sea.
A. Green
Hey, we're going to the station
But I gotta warn you this is no vacation
We're out here to find peace of mind
A piece of time to rewind and remind
Reality is heavy but we're strong
We'll stand against the wrong
At the forum we'll post a bill of every lie
And hold them there until we ask why
Everything is corroding at the foundation
When we're the wealthiest nation
But there is a history of misery
And it's not a mystery given their trickery
While the rich steadily get richer
I may not have aim but I'll play the pitcher
Throwing curve balls and facts
Fending off mass media attacks
Your legacy is dead soldiers on foreign land
For oil buried deep in the sand
Our economy is made of paper
And as that paper burns I see the caper
But all the money in the world is fool's gold
Compared to empathy and compassion if you behold
A better world of united people bettering each other
Holding hands with our sisters and brothers
There's still time for you to do the right thing
And perhaps that is when we can all sing
Homie, it's all about peace and love
It's all about peace and love
Homie hoppers are all over the young adult Sunday School Class
Five couples, and they have all been married at one time or another
To at least two other people in the class.
It is the weirdest dynamic in the world, but it is what I have to work with.
There are so many knowing looks and inside jokes.
Lots of laughter. I have never taught such a class.
I am eighty-two years young, and have learned to keep my mouth shut.
Never referring to “your husband” or “your wife” or even “your partner”
for things change so swiftly.
I grew up living in the countryside
an only child, adopted and on my own
it's something I've never regretted at all
looking back now like a river with one stone
I found I could cope with myself
having a stammer people was not my thing
so I found ways to spend my time
a lover of football it became my wedding ring
Across from our backyard was a field
'The Honie' was its name, there I did play
on my own, a football and me my all
many an hour spent no matter wet or grey
The grass never got cut but I kept it down
with my ball, me and team imagination
doing everything a team does as one
win and lose but never got relegation
I did love 'My Homie'
a place to spend many an hour
so many memories to call upon
drawing them from above like a shower
(This is written about my favourite place in my childhood and the memories it has for me.
Football - means soccer as we play it in the UK.)
Coney,
Bologna,
Hogwarts knees,
Falcone “G... 3...”
Razor backs,
Diamonds,
Friend of everyone,
Wishbone,
Fishbone,
Ceviche,
Weepy Trees,
People pleaser,
Teaser,
Appetizer,
Wiser,
Sweeping dust bunnies,
Pixie dust,
Trust fund,
Guns,
Treaties,
Tricks are for kids,
Rap song says to...
“Get BIG!!!”
Ace of Spades up my sleeve,
Still, I cannot breathe...
I have to sit still,
God, please!
I did my time and paid my fees,
Yet, lost my wallet and my keys,
I bought some Campbells and Wheaties,
Yet, drank a handle and did NOT heed,
The warning of the mourning and the decrees,
That Andy Warhol stalled by calling Saul another chief,
Until he realized he was NOT the pilot for the silent,
But really still blind with disbelief,
Yet, believed in himself,
So, we must say, “good grief...”
With some relief and begin to speak these things ourselves,
Do something for our own health, wealth, and begin to take stealth,
Because what we felt, smelt, and held,
Was worth more than anything we could sell,
We just needed some of them seashells,
That fell out of the hands of that pretty damsel in distress,
With a very beautiful chest of treasure,
At any measure...
If it were her, we were after,
We would probably never catch her,
Yet, to put it past her,
She would still end up being the master,
Just like the Catcher in the Rye,
Leaves one with a log in their eye,
While the twig is in yours for sure...