Best Jack Poems
Eighty two years young, but still a trooper,
pen writes daily, he's an evergreen souper.
Behold the limerick king and his wisdom,
providing laughs from his humorous kingdom.
Five posts a day, one is bound to make you smile,
some a little naughty, but that's his cheeky style.
Long before his Benny Hill transformation,
he was rocking this poetry soup nation.
First post a two thousand and twelve quatrain
about soaring in clouds, free like an air-plane.
Master of many forms, posting poems galore.
Eternal legend within poetry soup folklore.
Yet his talents do not end there, oh no no!
Perfect Santa clone bringing cheer, ho ho ho!
A chess ace whose trapped many kings in checkmate,
but what he really wants is a pretty playmate!
Skilled graphic designer and portrait artist,
but now he claims he's a talented fartist!
Did you know he once played the five string banjo,
with his sweet wife Linda, many moons ago.
The Canadiana Folksingers were his group,
toured the world, but now he's happy with just soup.
This limmerjack, maybe a cheeky chappie,
but he will go out his way to make ya happy.
When you need a laugh to brighten up your day,
go read Jack Ellison, he has so much to say!
The Silent One
29 January 2018
Yesterday I saw a very creepy mouse,
Sneaking right through my front door,
He was wearing tails and a top black hat
And dragging a large suitcase too
When he saw me, he run inside,
And past me he sped so fast,
Into the kitchen he went in,
To a tiny hole, with suitcase and all
I tried everything, to flushed him out,
From the hole just as fast.
I played him music extremely loud;
And even called him on his cell phone
So I ordered him some cheese pizza,
Provolone and jack cheese by the pound,
And placed it close, for him to come out and eat,
But...he grabbed with him in a flash
An email he sent me later on,
In which this certain note,to me he wrote:
"This's Jack,thank you,for giving me more food,
Now I can stay with you, for another three years.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2005
October,19,2014
I saw him on the highway
Thought he was insane
Standing with his thumb out
In the pouring rain
I don't usually stop for hitchhikers
But something said I should
Besides, it was raining awful hard
And the wind was blowing good.
I said, "Hop in, it's cold out there.
Where you headed on this stormy night?"
He said, "Down the road, I really don't care
Just somewhere else will be all right.
I ain't got no license, so I'm travelling kind of slow
They just left me out of prison a few nights ago."
I might not have stopped had I known
Now we were on this dark road all alone.
I didn't know if I was in any danger
But as I drove, I listened to this stranger
He spoke of life and of acceptance
He spoke of sin and of repentance
A story of gratitude and saving grace
And I saw a smile come on his face.
He asked if I'd take him a little farther down
And drop him off in another town
I was already late but I said okay
And I listened to his stories along the way.
When he was getting out he said, "Thanks for the hand.
God will bless you. Soon, you'll understand."
There was a new feeling inside me that I found
And I began to turn my life around.
I stopped at the prison to find out about Jack
And tell him how I got my life on track.
The warden listened and he shook his head
Saying, "I have a hard time believing what you said.
It couldn't be Jack, I'm telling you so.
You see, Jack died this day, eighteen years ago."
Angels come in strange forms sometimes.
Jack and Jill went up the hill
With thoughts of making love
Jack hadn’t got a condom
So cut a finger off Jill’s glove
The glove was far too small for him
And it didn’t fit his todger
Now they are proud parents
Of a baby they called Rodger!
1st October 2016
Another poem written after being inspired by Ilene Bauer's poem three blind mic
Lantern of the Shadowed Glade
In shadowed glades where spirits dwell,
Beneath the boughs of an ancient spell.
A pumpkin awaits, its fate foretold,
By tomes of old and tales untold.
Carved with care by children’s hands,
A toothy grin upon its face expands.
Yet, within those haunting, hollowed eyes,
Lies a deeper truth in dark disguise.
On Halloween, beneath pewter beams,
Wailing winds weave ominous screams,
The Jack-o’-lantern’s gaze ignites,
On ghoulish forms lurking in the night.
He sees the village, veiled in fear,
In costumes worn, yet souls austere,
For lurking ’neath the festive guise,
A darkness deep, where evil lies.
Children laugh with voices bright,
While shadows waltz in ghostly light,
Sinister secrets, whispers heard,
Carried on the wings of a devil bird.
But deeper still, the pumpkin knows,
The ancient lore, the forest’s throes,
For spirits rise on this cursed night,
To dance beneath the pale moonlight.
In solemn vigil, silent, and grim,
The gourd watches, a veil so thin,
‘Twixt shadowed realms of dark and light,
A sentinel of the Styx, in eternal night.
When dawn breaks o’er the ghastly glade,
The pumpkin’s light begins to fade,
In its heart, an ember of infernal lore,
A demonic lantern, cursed forevermore.
Tale Of Righteous And Just Demise Of Old Jack
Old Jack had shot many before, once just for the sheer hell of it
Never squeamish about the gore or splattered about fleshy bits
Once making it an all night spree, drinking whiskey after each shot
Only once did he do it for free, knowing generosity fills no empty pot.
One hot June night, he did away with tough cat called dangerous Dan
Such a bloody sight, no easy task but put sweet coin in his empty pan
Next day trip at the lake, he sniper shot famous knife fighter Jake
A cool twenty grand take, such sweet fun nobody could ever fake.
Old Jack, wicked as all hell, sure such Fate he would never meet
Called his shots "ringing the bell", having never faced a defeat
Once for big money, shot three men in a shady lakefront bar
Later for loss of his "honey", ran over ex-wife's lover with his car.
One cool Spring day, stranger came sworn to make old Jack pay
Dressed in a beggerdly way, as a weakened and feeble old stray
With hidden might and its all, Fate had finally sent its dark call
While Jack was having a ball, swift bullet made its bloody landfall.
Young John proud as all hell, had so gaily rang Jack's old bell
Had his story to soon tell, how he spate on dying Jack as he fell
One shot between those beady eyes, hundred bucks the prize
Nobody there shed a tear, for now there was young John to fear.
8-29-2018
Rhyme
A.W. Nutter
Pounding the pulpit with his fist
Sweat dripping from his brow
Preaching about Gods top ten list
The sinful Jews with their golden cow
Same old messages still in place
Pastor Jack’s patterns haven’t changed
Fear written on the altar boy’s face
A secret meeting has been arranged
Prayers end, the congregation stands
The pastor and boy move outside
Warmly shaking everyone’s hand
Wolf in sheep clothing able to hide
I casually walk across the street
Viewing the church pews now empty
The pedophile has made a quick retreat
Concealed in Satan’s, den of iniquity
Quietly, I traverse the wooden stairs
Listening at the door to the crying child
Pastor doing damage only God can repair
How many children has this demon defiled
Stepping through his unlocked door
A look of surprise from Pastor Jack
Dropping the naked child to the floor
Realizing his first sin, had come back
Quickly helping the boy get dressed
Time to end his night frights and screams
To Pastor Jack’s head my gun is pressed
The child pulls the trigger ending his dreams
His face aglow with the purity of light
From sending his tormentor to hell
Walking out of the church into the night
Brothers with a secret that we'll never tell
you're a D.J
you're a preacher
a carer or
a teacher
you're a painter
you're a builder
you're a bouncer
or announcer
you're a chef!
you're a doctor
you're a dentist
you're a chemist
or a nurse!
you're a lawyer
you're a sales rep
or a vet!
all having your possesions
all having your professions
JACK OF ALL TRADES
you're chillingly funny
dramatically humorous
inspirators,patriots
historians,lovers of nature
dark poets,light poets
amazingly great
JACK OF ALL TRADES
verses flowing
stanzas moving
you're poets forming shapes!
i'm the reader!
you're the writer!
you're WILLIAM of my kind
SHAKESPEARE of my days
touching hearts ,feeding souls
for you i give my praise
JACK OF ALL TRADES
To all my souper friends
who blend the soup so well
-----------------------------------------lyours charma
Listen, my dears, and I'll tell you a tale
Of a princess, a pirate, and glory.
There's a shipwreck, a rescue,
A romance, a ransom,
And a handicapped whale in the story.
There once was a princess, fairest of all,
But also quite vain and spoiled rotten.
She had a semi-private
Affair with a pirate
That would be but for me now forgotten.
The pirate, Mad Jack, was bloodthirsty and crude,
When upset, he'd explode, blow his top off.
Merchant vessels he sank,
Made their crews walk the plank,
Or, more rudely, their heads he would lop off.
One day Princess Daphne set out to sea
With her maid, they were bound for Majorca.
But the maid, in a gale,
Was swept over the rail
And inhaled by an asthmatic orca.
Lifeboats were lowered, the crew clambered in
And rowed quickly away, only thinking
Of saving their own necks,
Not the princess below decks
Left alone on a wreck that was sinking.
Then through the storm a ship hove into view,
At first Daphne thought it would dodge her.
But before she could hail her,
She felt courage fail her,
From its mast flew a vast Jolly Roger.
When Princess Daphne was brought before Jack,
She was haughty but thought he was handsome.
But to his greedy eyes
This fair royal prize
Represented a shipload of ransom.
But Jack was still human, Daphne was too,
And soon they were sharing their privates.
To his quarters she moved
And his crew all approved,
No one loves a love tale more than pirates.
But what of the ransom, yet to be paid?
Well, here the plot gets even deeper.
The stingy king said to Jack,
"No, I don't want her back.
It's cheaper for me if you keep her."
So Princess Daphne became Jack's sea wife,
And though common, but not mandatory,
When they became parents
They stopped being pirates
And passed peacefully out of the story.
For now then, my dears, that's the end of my tale,
An adventurous one hard to equal.
But, if I may be so bold,
And there's more to be told,
It may one day unfold in a sequel.
Old Jack hated Halloween night.
The constant ringing of his doorbell
he didn't like. So he turned off his
household lights.
His wife said, "Why did you go and
do that, Jack?" he replied "They
won't see the house, and I'll get
some rest!"
Little did Jack know that the Trick
or Treaters were determined. They
found his house, rang his doorbell
and Jacks anger just worsened!
Every time Jack got up from his
easy chair, you could hear him
mumbling to himself, and start to
swear!
The little kids would yell, "Trick
or Treat!" Jack would throw the
candy in their bags, and say half
jokingly, OK now let me be!
The doorbell would ring over
and over again. Each time the dog
would bark and Jack would cringe!
His wife would say, "Jack why
do you have to be so mean?" His
reply was, "These kids drive me
insane, non stop, that's why I hate
this Halloween!"
"Every year it's the same old
thing. The doorbell rings, and rings!"
His wife said, "Jack can't you
see the joy you bring?" "It doesn't
matter if the doorbell rings,and
rings."
"My parent's never took me
Trick or Treating. So, I never did
experience what little boys and
girls are feeling."
She felt sad for Jack she took
him by the hand and said," It's never
too late Jack, if you are willing."
They joined a group of children,
as they stopped and got some treats.
The homeowners looked at Jack in
wide- eyed disbelief!
He noticed all the fun the children
felt, as they went from door to door!
And he felt a joy overtake his heart,
and something much, much, more!
He and his wife said goodbye to
their little friends that night.
And Jack became a little boy, as he
relived his boyhood side.
Every year since he changed his
ways. Jack can't wait. To hear the
footsteps of his little friends, come,
Halloween day!
His house lights are on, and his wife
is by his side. With a great big smile
he answers the door, and acts
frighteningly surprised!
The children love Jack, it's their
favorite house to go. He fills their bags
with so much candy, their bags just
overflow.
Screwed IX Contest Rob Carmack
My grandma was a steeple jack,
Of heights she had no fear.
The crowds would gather round to watch.
They came from far and near,
To see her swing and pirouette,
Doff her hat and wave.
And gasped and cheered each time she feigned
A slip and then a save.
Roof-toppers winced and bit their lips,
Tight rope walkers screamed.
Treetop loggers looked away
At the daring they were seeing.
Women gasped and children shrieked,
Fearful she would fall,
But at full ascent a massive roar
As she stood upon the ball!
She blew a kiss to the those below
As she turned around with ease,
Then there atop removed her scarf
And cast it to the breeze
But the crowd went wild as before their eyes
They viewed her final feat…
Into a handstand Grandma rose,
Then she waved and kicked her feet!
Whether flag pole, steeple, TV tower…
My grandma climbed them all.
For the freedom felt there in the clouds,
She was at their beck and call.
That grand old gal inspired me
Her legacy I've retraced.
Now I too dance upon a pole
At a club called Mary’s Place.
I got the bad news today, we were loosing a friend.
One of our best Limerick writers Jack Ellison.
Ailments are no surprise when growing older in age.
A new Chapter in Jacks life as he leaves, and turns the page.
His Writings came from his heart, that were written by him.
Witty and silly Jack always left us with a grin.
Many Poet's will be so sad to hear this sad news.
His departure breaks our hearts, and sadly brings the blues.
Jack we all wish you well as you journey on your way.
We'll miss you Jack, but in our hearts you'll forever stay.
Poetry Soup was so gifted
to have Jack Ellison as one
of their Greatest Writers.
We were so fortunate to
have him. He shared in his
last Poem he was leaving.
Please in your comments
tell Jack what he meant to
you. Goodbye my Dear friend,
Happy Trails.
I am Jack and I live on a farm,
was born in the barn one of many;
oh, I am the only cat with charm,
but my best friend is the horse- Penny.
Was born in the barn . . . one of many,
oh, I like all of the farm creatures;
but my best friend is- the horse Penny,
like all here no matter their features.
Oh, I like all of the farm . . . creatures,
there is a bully of a rooster;
like all here . . . no matter their features,
even like big bird we call Brewster.
There is a BULLY of a rooster,
oh, I am the only cat- with charm;
even like . . . big bird we call Brewster,
I am Jack and I live- on a farm.
______________________
April 10, 2020
Poetry/Pantoum/Personification/ Jack the Cat
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1242-876-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Pantoum Personification
sponsor, Eve Roper, Inspiration is Image #2
Third Place
Crushed by the weight
Of depression
When it was all I could do
I moved it just enough
To send a smile to you
For Jack Ellison
9/20/2019
The incredible shooting display put on by "Sir" Jack,
Teaches a basic tenet of basketball that remains still,
You can expand your game from the outside
and considerably broaden your skill,
With accuracy you can keep defenders off-guard,
You can shake 'em or hit one in their grill,
By working the game outside-inside,
You can score on any defender at will.