Best If I Had My Druthers Poems
Blue Jays and Black birds and half a dozen squirrels.
Sprinkled with Sparrow's, it's become quite a world.
Occasional Cardinal to add a little spice.
They seem to all be getting along fairly nice.
The neighbor, he feeds them plenty of food.
It seems it is working, they've become quite a brood.
As long as the house is buttoned up tight.
They're not a problem, I sleep fine at night.
Out in the front, a chipmunk does play.
Scurrying around and having it's way.
A Robin or two might ruffle their feathers.
I wouldn't change a thing if I had my druthers.
It feels like I'm blessed to have such a mess.
Nothing to do but enjoy it, I guess.
God certainly does have mysterious ways.
How he shows us his love in these warm summer days.
Some guys are cut out for retirement
That certainly doesn't apply to me
If I had my druthers, I'd still be working
This is surely not my cup of tea
Used to be such an active fellow
Was hard at work twenty-four seven
Up until virtually all hours of the night
Now I'm lucky if I make it past eleven
This poetry site is my saving grace
Without it I'd surely go berserk
Well maybe that's overstating my case
But you get it, I thrive on work
Perhaps there's a big surprise in store
I'll inherit a million big ones
From a distant long lost cousin of mine
Might be getting too much sun!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Bring Back Our Girls!!
To their mothers and fathers,
to their sisters, and brothers.
We know ONE escaped you,
but we want ALL the others!
Bring Back Our Girls!!
To the people who LOVE them!
To the people who NEED them!
The ones who pray for them EVERY night,
and wake up praying that you've freed them!!
Bring Back Our Girls!!
So that they can one day
be wives and mothers!
And, they'll be doctors and lawyers,
if I had my druthers!
You Need To
Bring Back Our Girls!!
Or, we're coming for you!
You'll find no place to hide.
And, you'll have nowhere to run to!
BRING BACK OUR GIRLS!!
Even with innocence lost.
Or, we'll see you all burn,
No matter the cost!
Bring Back Our Girls!
BRING BACK OUR GIRLS!
Please,... just...
Bring Back Our Girls!
THE COYOTEE SONG
I'm just a poor lonesome cowboy.
Ridin' my pinto, out on the prairie.
I'm Roundin' up these longhorn, all day long,
Me and my pinto, and my rusty six-gun.
I love a floosie from Philly.
She got some eyes, that really turn me on.
She plays with all the cowboys all night long,
Guess I'll shoot myself with my rusty six-gun.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
I'm just a poor lonesome cowboy.
Livin life in my Levys til its done.
I know that redhead won't remember my name,
But I'll always have my old rusty six-gun.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
I love your howlin, but your sound is as sad as can be.
If I had my druthers, I'druther have that floosie sing to me.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! coyote!
Yippy-KiYo! For me!
© Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
THE COYOTEE SONG
I'm just a poor lonesome cowboy.
Ridin' my pinto, out on the prairie.
I'm Roundin' up these longhorn, all day long,
Me and my pinto, and my rusty six-gun.
I love a floosie from Philly.
She got some eyes, that really turn me on.
She plays with all the cowboys all night long,
Guess I'll shoot myself with my rusty six-gun.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
I'm just a poor lonesome cowboy.
Livin life in my Levys til its done.
I know that floosie won't remember my name,
But I'll always have my old rusty six-gun.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
I love your howlin, but your sound is as sad as can be.
If I had my druthers, I'druther have that floosie sing to me.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! coyote!
Yippy-KiYo! For me!
© Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
aka Ron Wilson
I am not a heartless statue made of stone,
nor a marble sculpture that's never known
the sweet savor of a kiss upon parted lips
nor the sensual tracings of one's fingertips.
I'm not averse to desires for which I yearn
or to the ways to achieve them all in turn.
It's happiness I seek throughout this life,
not depriving myself with sadness and strife.
Desire is usually linked to sexual pleasure,
but I aspire to acquire beyond all measure
such mundane things, like a juicy red apple
without having to beg, borrow, or grapple.
It's not greedy to want my desires fulfilled
or instead of hot coffee, to prefer it chilled.
I'm much happier having a positive thought
than suffering the aversion of a broken heart.
I cannot condone feelings of dislike or hate
but I'm averse to things that I must berate...
death, war, and looking down upon others.
I'd nullify all of them if I had my druthers.
Antipathy can be detrimental to many desires.
It's water dousing the flames of my wildfires.
I prefer to follow a path of my own choosing,
one in which I'll find life much more amusing.
As long as my desires are kept under control
no one would dare label me 'villain' or 'troll.'
I cannot act on impulse, so no one is harmed.
From selfish greed, my mind will be disarmed.
October 5th, 2022 ~ Desire and Aversion Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
STILL GET THE ITCH
How come I'm gorgeous instead of rich
But if I had my druthers I still wouldn't switch
Certainly would choose handsome
Worth a mighty king's ransom
Happy in my skin but I still get the itch
rich???
© Jack Ellison 2015
Ruffians badger and bother the rest of the world, without care.
I see them coming with their mean attitude and try not to stare.
I wonder who has hurt them so badly, that they want to hurt others.
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
They don't always dress the part, sometimes they wear business suits.
Sit in their offices eating elaborately rich foods that causes their toots.
Pick on their employees and they are nasty as heck to their brothers.
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
Ruffians bully themselves into the best seats on a bus and a plane.
They are braggadocio and boastful, and to others, a huge pain.
I would rather not sit anywhere near one, if I had my druthers.
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
Ruffians wear suits that make them look like sweet little old ladies.
They sit in the subway car and they yell out to the Mrs. O’Gradies.
Are loud and obnoxious; Could they be fixed with a few smothers?
Did they have a horrible childhood?
Can we blame it all on their mothers?
Things that matter.
Not useless data.
Unlest without your behest.
Cooked up by the NSA.
And the Mad Hatter.
In the end all is just chatter.
Trying not to shatter.
Either by pity patter or splatter.
If I had my druthers bruthas (and sistas).
I'll take the latter.
Organize or scatter.
Everything is the same.
Remember my name?
All is one.
Even though
if I cared to I
could count to 100.
Does that make me rare, too?
The bottomline:
we all want to shine
while scrubbing
down the others.
"But we're all one" I'd say,
if I had my druthers,
while squeezing
the wet sponge.
I don't agree with anything
anyone here has to say.
Don't call me your brother.
I don't know your sister.
He kept talking like this
in the mirror.
If you were the Lord,
wouldn't you get bored
making the same flower,
person, an animal?
This is all pretty paranormal.
I say buy the ticket, take the ride.
We're one and we're many,
Zig-zagging, all out of stride.
So make a friend
before the end.
In, fact we've met prior
running from a fire.
You look the same.
You're right
everything is the same.
Remember my name?
THE COYOTE SONG
I'm just a poor lonesome cowboy.
Ridin' my pinto, out on the prairie.
I'm Roundin' up these longhorn, all day long,
Me and my pinto, and my rusty six-gun.
I love a redhead from Philly.
She got some eyes, that really turn me on.
She plays with all the cowboys all night long,
Guess I'll shoot myself with my rusty six-gun.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
I'm just a poor lonesome cowboy.
Livin life in my Levys til its done.
I know that redhead won't remember my name,
But I'll always have my old rusty six-gun.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
I love your howlin, but your sound is as sad as can be.
If I had my druthers, I'druther have that red head sing to me.
Sing me a sad song Coyote!
Sing a sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! Coyote!
Sing your sad song for me.
Yippy-Ki-Yo! coyote!
Yippy-KiYo! For me!
...........TO HEAR THIS wonderful song and see the video, go to youtube.com and do a search for veebdosa......then select coyote. Enjoy and YES those are REAL coyotes singing in the song....
Overheard a couple elderly gents
Discuss artificial intelligence
One said to the other
If I had my druthers
‘Twould be on the ballot for President
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Since you are so fat,
How do you slide down chimneys? Please answer me that!"
"Well, it ain't easy laddie since I am quite obese!
But I wriggles and squirms and apply lots of elbow grease!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How do the reindeer fly?"
"They wiggles their ears and swishes their tails to soar thro' the sky!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How do you know if I've been good or bad?"
"Ho! Ho! I know alright 'cause I check with your Mom and Dad!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Why does Rudolph have a shiny red nose?"
"It is his secret alone and that even to me he will not disclose!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Is your favorite snack cookies and milk?"
"If I had my druthers, I prefer salami and cheese, things of that ilk!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How fast is your sleigh?"
"Fast enough to circle the whole earth on each Christmas Day!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Will you please come again next year?"
"Yes, my boy, and for years and years to come, never you fear!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Christmas Day 2017
I tried to ignore you, but I miserably failed the test.
So, I'm posting this to unburden it from my chest.
It's in reply to your continual endeavor to protest
against those of us who enjoy writing for contests.
Why does it matter to you? Why are you obsessed
with our friendly competition? Just give it a rest!
You judge us and that's not worthy of being blessed.
Maybe to God, your reproach should be confessed.
I don't enter contests to be the Queen of Poetry Hill
That's really contemptible ink you choose to spill,
and your vinegary attitude is that of a pickle... a dill.
Can you find amiable words to write with your quill?
There are no cold poets here, but many feel your chill.
I took umbrage when you called PS a 'selfish place.'
That's simply not true, and it's totally not the case.
There's never been a justifiable reason to debase
us with what you wouldn't dare say face to face.
You wrote of friendship, so why don't you embrace
all poets, and do it with some semblance of grace?
You wrote that we should all be helpful and kind.
That's a bit hypocritical and it just blows my mind
each time you post lines with your same old grind...
contempt you have for contest poets you maligned.
Your prods are noticed because no one here is blind
to read what you write about us. You've been unkind.
God blesses us when we treat each other as brothers,
and that's the way you'd see us if I had my druthers.
If you claim that we should be a blessing to each poet,
then you should adjust your thinking, and you know it.
Some guys are cut out for retirement
That certainly doesn't apply to me
If I had my druthers, I'd still be working
This is surely not my cup of tea
Used to be such an active fellow
Was hard at work twenty-four seven
Up until virtually all hours of the night
Now I'm lucky if I make it past eleven
This poetry site is my saving grace
Without it, I'd surely go berserk
Well maybe that's overstating my case
But you get it, I thrive on work
Perhaps there's a big surprise in store
I'll inherit a million big ones
From a distant long lost cousin of mine
Seems I'm getting a little too much sun!