Best Jacko Poems
I'm in me bath here, with a box of red cheer,
yeah a box of red cheer, beer's too bloody dear.
Me mind's wanderin twixt big **** and riches,
bein able to scratch at what itches,
without scratchin the bum out your britches.
If they think you got what,
they'd rather they'd got,
mate, hang onto your hat,
they'll bloody take that.
That girl in black tights, so jam-packed with delights,
nights full of delights in them slow movin tights.
She's not, like Jacko reckons, a whore.
Wouldn't lie on me bare wooden floor.
Christ, I did nothin to get to be poor.
And you can't pay what's due
so your creditors sue?
Funny old world, not half.
But good for a laugh.
I can't help but hear next door's shoutin and tears,
all their shoutin and tears, I can hear em from here,
through the stem of me glass on the wall.
Pray to God he don't hit her at all.
I'm half pissed and spliffed and I never could brawl.
But I stand in the queue,
for a place in the zoo.
Heard you shouldn't have pride.
They wouldn't have lied.
A party's upstairs but I can't breathe their airs.
I won't breathe their airs, them there upstairs.
So I fill the bathroom with me smoke.
All those girls shaggin some other bloke.
I just lie here and soak and suck in me toke.
What's it like not to do
what your needs need you to,
to beg borrow or steal,
to make stuff come real?
I hear downstairs' soul hit his lavatory bowl.
That porcelain bowl gets the whole of his soul,
as I wring out the bladder of red.
All the sweetest of girls, Jacko said,
have big whites to their eyes that aint never've bled.
There aint nothin so nice
as those whitest of whites
on rich girls
with sweet arses
in slow movin tights.
Categories:
jacko, me, red, women,
Form:
Ballad
Clear the track, here comes Jack
Or Johnny Canuck to some
To a bunch of friends on Poetry Soup
He's that Wacko Jacko bum!
He's Canadian eh! From way up north
From the land of ice and snow
He eats bowls of nails for breakfast
Wearing manly lumberjack clothes
“Good day eh! How's it goin' eh?”
Are two of his favourite greets
As he polishes off his morning brew
With a slab of uncooked meat
He's a tough old dude, that's for sure
With mush instead of brains
A grizzled good natured son of a gun
With love running through his veins
He'd give you the shirt right off his back
But it's too damn cold up here
For fear of freezing his nipples off
Instead he's just say, “Wanna beer?”
Clear the track, here comes Jack
Or Johnny Canuck to some
To a bunch of friends on Poetry Soup
He's that Wacko Jacko bum!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
jacko, silly,
Form:
Quatrain
Jacko has a dark side as well as one of fun
He laid out too long in the hot sizzling sun
Didn't turn over
Got over exposure
White in front but dark on his bum
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
jacko, fun,
Form:
Limerick
Must maintain my upbeatness
Through all the hassles of moving
Must grin and giggle with each annoyance
Till things finally start improving
Haven't eaten for more a week
Can't find our horde of Chef Boyardee
The best is their new Over Stuffed Ravioli
Consumed in a minute twenty-three
Considering my sexy rotund chassis
My options are becoming so much less
There's a conspiracy by all the food makers
They want to see me in a bigger dress
They don't know who they're dealing with
They call me Big Jacko the Fit
Kids run for cover when they see me coming
But don't tell them I also like to knit
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
jacko, humorous,
Form:
Quatrain
(There's a thirteenth 'zodiacal' constellation, Ophiucus, The Serpent Wrestler/Holder, or the "Twelth Symbol," as here used. In some ancient cultures, serpents were revered as feminine symbols of rebirth/healing, and bees as symbols of wisdom, while Roman catholicism considered coffee to be the "wine of infidels" until the 15th. century. Historically, Ophiucus may never have been used in astrology, though it is the house between Scorpio and Sagittarius in a astrological system purportedly developed in the mid-1900's, making Sagittarius the thirteenth sign in such a system - thus in this poem, "the Twelth Symbol" was "usurped by what used to be the thirteenth". Of course, "Good Ol' Triple Six" and other numerical variations thereof in this work refer to 666, the mythological number of the Anti-christ.)
___
I want a jeezus, unsweetened, decaffeinated, no additives -
- certainly no booze or needle tracks -
because I want a trim, uptight jeezus, totally pure and constipated
to pimp for the face-down with the Great-to-the-nth Numeral-Triplet,
because the descendant number of my measureless time
is a Trinity of the fourth primes-of-eighteen (no xeroxing
needed!)...
... my godpappy, William Blake, gone loony out of his goddam mind
over visions of seraphim and angels,
slapping the jaggedly unholy rhythm of a bawdy tune on my new-born
butt
while in drag he baptizes y'hweh in drag...
... and I want you to know
that my razor isn't my father's
road-hog...
... smoothin' along, instead of Jacko Kerowacko in my briefs, just
the road of excess still somewhere on the map,
while the bottom line is
that it's all as cheap as a Walmart `ho, though why not plumb the
sacred profanity
of All Animalism in the ditch just along that road
instead of blasphemating in a line way too long at The Mart?
"Can't wait, dude, gotta' get my *jive, here and now, `cause the
marquee says", `Drive-by Lyrics Smack-Down Between Marilyn Manson
And Good Ol' Triple-Six' '', farting rhythms and rhymes
from all orifices of His five-and-a-half shooter off His uncouth
butt -
(continued in Part 2)
Categories:
jacko, family, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
Wherever you go, don't forget
Bring your own sunshine along
To brighten up the path you travel
Singing a happiness song
It's certainly possible, look at me
Can't wipe this smile from my face
Mona Lisa can't hold a candle to Jacko
Brightening the darkest place
Am I happy with my life so far
Bet yer sweet bippie I am
Was never much of a complainer ever
Or a down-in-the-mouth type man
So wherever you go, don't forget
Give everyone your big high fives
Never leave home without your sunshine
You'll brighten up so many lives
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
jacko, happiness,
Form:
Quatrain
The title describes me to a tee
No matter how hard I try at times
To be tough and manly and masculine
A softie is how I'm defined
Guess it's not always a bad way to be
Cold hearted is sure not this guy
If you're able to read between the lines
That's where this dude resides
Try very hard to always be honest
But it's not always easy to do
Some factors contribute every damn day
To disguise the real you
So call this guy a real “old softy”
That's a real compliment you see
Will keep on spreading the love around
“Jacko The Softy”, that's me!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
jacko, happiness,
Form:
Quatrain
What a way to go,
The greatest show,
Most on this planet, bidding adieu.
Brilliant Jacko is no more,
Yet his spirit still haunt’s the corridor.
It seems it was his “EVERLAND’,
He wrongly named it “NEVERLAND”.
Although he lost it to bad debt,
Hasn’t really left it yet.
In life the best father,
With death gone much farther,
Its most likely now, he’s inside God’s larder.
I’m sure he’s there with Peter Pan,
On this crazy earth he was some man.
Sang and danced like no one can,
From what I see, it was God’s Plan.
There are many who claim he was terribly rotten,
But for millions of fans he’ll not be forgotten.
In a billion oysters there’s one great pearl,
Meeting anther Jackson sounds so very unreal.
Remember him for his greatness, not something that’s vile,
No one could prove he was paedophile.
- Prince Freakasso
(Painter & Poet)
Categories:
jacko, thank you
Form:
Epitaph
Mom & Dad must have been primates
Coz bananas are my favourite foods
When it comes to stuff Jacko eats a lot of
For bananas they're in the mood
Whenever they passed a bush with vines
Something deep down inside
Urges them to climb up and beat their chest
Some primordial force to abide
Bananas for breakfast, lunch or dinner
With mounds of yummy whipped cream
Oh heavenly joy! There ain't nuttin' finer
They're the object of all our dreams
Okay, I'll try to get back to reality now
But each time I hear an old squeeze box
Get all excited and feel like performing
It invades my innermost thoughts
Sitting here typing while peeling a banana
Is there help for someone like me
My skin has definitely got a yellow tinge
Often hang from our backyard tree!
Mom and Dad must have been primates
Other signs are too numerous to tell
Obsessed by scratching my armpits raw
And honking my honker as well!
Categories:
jacko, psychological,
Form:
Rhyme
MICHAEL JACKSON
-----------------------------------------------------------
They called him a wacko,said he's a cracko;
But on the dance floor,he made them go loco.
He was nicknamed smelly,gyrated his belly;
But he danced like his birth was from a can full of jelly.
Born at number seven will he enter in heaven?
Or just be forgotten like some beaten eleven?
Crooning in paradise or tooning in hell?
Questions unanswered,we want someone to tell.
Was it the doctor who thumbed the door bell?
Was it some drug that rang his death knell?
With loads of talent he did abound,
But couldn't make it to that final round.
It's so sad he had to die,
Depriving fans of that final goodbye.
This genius who did the moon walk here,
Is now hopefully doing it in another sphere.
With his crotch grabbing,anus stabbing,sodomising way,
He was criticised globally for being so gay.
They claimed the young lads he did make lay,
But like a small little child he only wanted to play.
From the Jackson five to being no longer live,
As a music maestro he had unholy drive.
With a journey besot with I don't know what,
Everything came to a gigantic nought.
He began a career "OFF THE WALL"
Became "BAD"and fell to propofol,
If only he'd realised whether "BLACK OR WHITE",
Death is something which is God's sole right.
Life no doubt turned out quite a "THRILLER"
Thinking you're 'INVINCIBLE"can be such a killer.
God doesn't mind a lot of skit,
But for Jacko the wacko he said "THIS IS IT"
-------Prince Freakasso {Artist and Poet}
Categories:
jacko, angst
Form:
Narrative
There was a old bunky named Jacko
Had many different hobbies, some quite wacko
Once collected cards
Not comedians you 'tards
Baseball cards worth a fortune, doesn't sound very macho
Categories:
jacko, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Wherever you go, don't forget
Bring your own sunshine along
To brighten up the path you travel
Singing a happiness song
It's certainly possible, look at me
Can't wipe this smile from my face
Mona Lisa can't hold a candle to Jacko
Brightening the darkest place
Am I happy with my life so far
Bet yer sweet bippie I am
Was never much of a complainer ever
Or a down-in-the-mouth type man
So wherever you go, don't forget
Give everyone your big high fives
Never leave home without your sunshine
You'll brighten up so many lives
© Jack Ellison 2012
Categories:
jacko, happiness,
Form:
Quatrain
Most people have a second side
A side that's not always sunny
I have two sides like everyone else
But my both sides are funny
Haven't a clue how it happened
My parents were normal folks
Don't remember them ever being silly
Or even telling some jokes
Sure glad I have this “silly” gene
Life's a lot easier to endure
Can't imagine waking up with a scowl
Foreign to me for dang sure
Guess I'm one of the lucky dudes
Passing along just one thing
Think of your life without any winter
A life that's eternally spring
That's how Jacko survives each day
Pushing negatives off the cart
It certainly ain't that damn difficult
Think positive right from the start
They say everyone has a second side
Mine is giggles either way
An example of a truly fortunate soul
With laughter and fun every day!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
jacko, happiness, life,
Form:
Quatrain
Murdered by Metaphor
mama called me a psycho
what is it good for?
Mumbo jumbo wacko jacko
humour the double edged sword
tormented, wrists slashed apart
Not alone, you got the lord
horrified and empty depart
Look there, a finer image
could 've been you
scratch the soul! rummage
was the pennace overdue?
requiem the wandering
journey just a reason
shame you find nothing
time again for an open season
Categories:
jacko, angst, life
Form:
Mom & Dad must have been primates
Coz bananas are my favourite foods
When it comes to stuff Jacko eats a lot of
For bananas they're in the mood
Whenever they passed a bush with vines
Something deep down inside
Urges them to climb up and beat their chest
Some primordial force to abide
Bananas for breakfast, lunch or dinner
With mounds of yummy whipped cream
Oh heavenly joy! There ain't nuttin' finer
They're the object of all our dreams
Okay, I'll try to get back to reality now
But each time I hear an old squeeze box
Get all excited and feel like performing
It invades my innermost thoughts
Sitting here typing while peeling a banana
Is there help for someone like me
My skin has definitely got a yellow tinge
Often hang from our backyard tree!
Mom and Dad must have been primates
Other signs are too numerous to tell
Obsessed by scratching my armpits raw
And honking my honker as well!
Categories:
jacko, food,
Form:
Rhyme