Best Jag Poems
A Painful Tribute to my earth
Before me you were
I am here and you are
Thus both of us are together now.
Alas, I will be gone and you will go on!
You are giving me endlessly
And spreading on me lavishly.
Despite it, I plunder you;
I exploit you;
I mistreat you;
I don’t care for you.
I have forgotten that you are a living organism -
You need my care;
You need my concern;
You need my gentle respect.
You are not losing me;
I am losing you.
I am depleting you;
I am exhausting you;
I am rushing you to devastation
And in that I am rushing to my own exit.
What was, is nor more;
What is, will be gone
What will be, is not known.
Help me become aware of your sigh
Help me become aware of your neigh
Help me become aware of my own destruction
Help me save you to save myself.
Show me your might
Show me your power
Show me your anger
Show me your arrogance
Make me learn
Make me move
Make me understand your cry
Cry; make me hear your cry!
Cradled me like a mother then
Let me cradle you now
Help me help you
To achieve my selfishness
Love you, mother earth!
Love you dearly!
Thank you for nourishing me
Thank you for holding me
For enfolding me
Help me love you and love you more!
Name: Saahil Jag Jerry
Class: 5 A
Global Indian International School- East Coast
Singapore
Categories:
jag, earth,
Form:
Epic
Bands of gold, straps of lace
Is this the difference money makes
Skin is pretty, skin is not
with no Jag in the parking lot
Table service with a view
the only way to dine for you
Highlights from a chic salon
expensive dresses to throw on
Cocktails every night at five
the only way to feel alive
Tickets to a Broadway show
parties with folks you don’t know
Hand me downs, ragged jeans
what you get with little means
Skin is pretty, unadorned
just as supple, be forewarned
Canned goods from the Dollar Store
matters little what she wore
Needed Meds, to pay the price
love will make the sacrifice
Life in tatters, life in gowns
superficial smiles and frowns
Bands of gold, straps of lace
Is this the difference money makes
Categories:
jag, character, introspection, life, money,
Form:
Rhyme
Drove his Jag through town with a fuss
He came to play poker with us
We took his treasure
And for good measure
Sent him home in a Greyhound bus
10/14/2016
Categories:
jag, funny,
Form:
Limerick
thunder sound dashes
lightning fissure quickly dips
jig jag cross lines' flash
starts rainy music
with hissing crescendo to
diminuendo
Categories:
jag, music, rain,
Form:
Haiku
What the flip was CeeLo Green
Doing on the X Factor looking keen?
In a dress of yellow and pink flowers
With flaccid, psychedelic powers?
I felt as if I was back in the 60s,
Drifting high with the hippies,
I was sent to planet Zigzag,
In need of a sedating jag.
Categories:
jag, cheer up, children, color,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
Ooooh wow...a nice classy fortified wine dressed in a milky white dress. Shimmering for all to see. Injest not the erosive clatter of a purple frog. As it is far to dangerous. One may end up quacking. Or shivering in a bikini on a desert floor at three am. After midnight loopholes are often embellished with sounds so one can use a curly stick to jump into and over the many plates who arrive with handbags edged with carefully extracted silver. Who sounded the hunting horn of Thor? Not I said the fourth dimensional rune stone.I am happy to keep my inscription in this lovely luxurious box. Tinder cartoon it be not. I will wait for the wind. Erotic cries of Freya balancing on cymbal clouds. Exonerating falsities with wisps of sunlit hairs. Box shut. I marvel at the eighty nine acres of a moonlit street. Standing in a sinkhole. Sunken jag. Sunk not a beetroot though. They are very pleased in a jar whirling. Questionable is the beak of a large lobster flying. Often disguised. Disguises are unnecessary and unneeded and often the cackle of a candle can evoke a wandering godly orb. Orbital sound then. Oh good. Injestion and resulting in synchronized delivery in a swamp. Turds are often great for expulsion yet a turnip can be quite quick to move. So tread very carefully in a vegetable patch to avoid scarring. A mist in a mountain is a dew ball but free-falling with a thousand foot golden baseball bat is akin to holding a sword to a heavenly cloud to release acronyms and cones of very charismatic mind orbs. Viewed in orbicular centimetres and carried on the breezes by the caterpillar planes. Planting painting properly posted placed characterful colourful clown club visiting iron rays of dome. Sap seep swept sweltering swelling serpentry sent son. Sun. X and now I will have a sit down on the appropriate asteroid. And drink a large cup of air. Under Up under Up xxxxx
Categories:
jag, beautiful,
Form:
Im in prison for commiting a crime
taking things that were not mine,
i went out into the general public,
and stole things from a random subject.
I hold up my hands and take the blame,
my picture in paper to add to my shame.
I realise now i went about it all wrong,
ill explain it all within this song.
I should have worn a suit to work,
commited my crimes with a smirk.
For id have the right as a civil servent,
my squeaky clean image and smell of detergent.
Oh how id laugh at the publics expence,
the poor,the peasents,the holiday tents.
While back inside my gentlemens club,
caviar,chianti and tax payers grub.
Sit smoking cigars by an open fire,
swopping stories of our selfish desires.
"I gave five pounds to a charity today,
then claimed it back within my pay"
"I claimed straws for my childrens party,
then more money to dress them smartly"
"I claimed for a jag in case the other breaks down,
then for another to potter round town"
"Well when the wife fell down the stairs,
i claimed thousands just for the repairs!"
"I claimmed a thousand just for one shoe,
then another five thousand for a rent boy or two".
Raise the taxes!
Theres not enough,
public funds to buy our stuff.
My ducks need a house,
a one that floats!
And i need money to dredge my moat!
I need a taxi to take me ten yards!
To see my neighbour and play charades
Then baffle the public with a few choice words
and change the subject,declare war on the kerds
But i wouldn't be breaking any rules,
these are important political tools.
So the motto of the story is i should have listined in school!
Instead im sat here on this prison stool.........
Categories:
jag, funny, political, money,
Form:
Ballad
The Bichon Frise
The Bichon in chiffon looks so frou
That the crowd duly wowed has to coo
‘Til the dog starts to droop
And its owner to scoop
Some acutely embarrassing doo
The Border Collie
It was not Albert Einstein who dared
To think E = mc2
But rather a Border
Who brought cosmic order
One morning while out with his laird
The Bulldog
My Bulldog won’t frolic or fetch
His face may cause others to kvetch
But he’s gentle and sweet
With the kids on the street
And the ladies all think I’m a ketch
The Cairn Terrier
Cairns have been bred to hunt vermin
Be it Spanish, Australian, or German
Its body is wee
Though as tough as a tree
And as ruthless as General Sherman
The Chihuahua and Great Dane
Chihuahuas and Danes one surmises
Are extremes when it comes to their sizes
The one is so small
It is nothing at all
While the other is big and wins prizes
The Chinese Crested
I passed one of these down on Lincoln
For a moment I thought I’d been drinkin’
He looked so bizarre
That I stopped in a bar
To keep my poor eyeballs from shrinkin’
The Collie
To many a Collie means Lassie
The wonderdog faithful and classy
But on re-run TV
(Or is it just me?)
Do her eyes look a little bit glassy?
The Corgi
The Corgi is not one to hurry
Much preferring a stroll to a flurry
If you happen by chance
To invite one to dance
He’ll say, “Hey, I am not Arthur Murray!”
The Dachshund
The Dachshund’s a marvel on skis
Little legs that stop short of its knees
It can schuss like a pro
Making furrows in snow
(Though its privates are given to freeze)
The Dalmatian
Dalmatians are doomed to be stuck
In the seat of a fireman’s truck
When they’d much rather cruise
In a Jag that’s chartreuse
On a track that’s for testing your luck
Categories:
jag, animal, cute, dog, funny,
Form:
Limerick
I be talking crazy when I’m off the yoppas.
But she love how I talk crazy off the yoppas.
I didn’t really want her but you know I got her.
Filled her script like I was a doctor.
Keep the tool with me, but, you I got them hitters on me.
Keeps me in the zone. I don’t really wanna hurt nobody.
Aye I up the burner, catch a body, then I take his hottie.
A bad boy. Yea, I’m feeling like I’m mister Lawry.
I got that splash in my swag.
Cleaner than a jag speeding down the freeway about 160 on the dash.
Shorty got that class and she ratchet I’m on her fast.
Ima Slytherin her and I'll put lil mama in a trance.
Something like a snake. I’m so smooth when I hit my dance.
All she did was glance, then her hands Slytherin my pants.
One look at the doc, and she's quick to wanna leave her man.
No explanation you already understand.
Categories:
jag, drug, hip hop, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
That blurry mirage of sizzling heat
As the trucks passed by, steam rose from concrete
Irvington couldn’t build a swimming pool
But came up with a way to keep kids cool
How I begged my mother to make the walk
For three hours of laughs and silly talk
At noon kids gathered in a cement pit
Sprinklers turned on, we enjoyed each minute
Refreshed, we passed beach balls or we played tag
But mostly we just ran a jig-and-jag
The park had swings, slides and arts and crafts too
But at sprinkler time, none of these would do
In the years before air conditioning
Torrid rays of sun we kids were shunning
Inner city children escaping heat
This was our favorite summer retreat
Moms, kids in swimsuits till showers ended
Ice pops passed out to the towel-tended
On weekends Dad drove us to the seashore
But sprinkler days with Mom I remember more
*For the “Hot Time, Summer in the City” contest
Categories:
jag, childhood, summer, summer,
Form:
Couplet
My heart races touching your deep Spirit's kiss,
The softness of your voice soothes my abyss.
My tear's curb crumbles greening my shrink cry.
My soul torn apart wondering to know why.
Wrong thoughts, so cruel wait the fear to tape
The terrors of love to give them a new shape.
And my loneliness is a shadowy yard
When to sink my reality it's so hard.
In murky ponds of suffocating tadpole
I jag my edges tearing my sad soul,
Which once is tied with bleeding strips to yours
Will twist my fate with the flick of my gray hours.
I wait my hope which will never come to be.
This hope hunger squeezes tighter my soul's knee.
I'm clinging to the past where I want to hide
That part of me that is still alive inside.
While I wait the ocean waves to wash my soul
Big storms can rise up from the horns of your hole.
Much more confused on how to think or feel,
I talk, I dream and I am your balance wheel.
I can live with death while love is a wasteland
When the end comes around against my soul's gland
As showy as the white chalk on a blackboard
And I could lose my way but I pray to Lord.
I wonder if I will feel your love again
Even I accept my resignation's chain
Like an inner sorrow coming on my lip,
Like a song of my flute for my ocean's sleep,
Like a fire fathom scratching my blue rain,
Like a wish to taste you when I strive in vain,
Like a deep taste you place on my rudest wish,
Or like the wish you place on my thinking swish.
Floating are your words rain for my misty cloud,
You can still hang out with my feelings crowd.
When I'm dressed in white masking a selfless gray,
I have my honest smile and nothing to say.
Crops from your soul break the reason of my thought
And break my soul because I love you a lot.
Your body's heat cannot hit my soul's weeps
'Cause my pure thoughts are crowned with white wisps.
You defy my body's weep because it's chaste
And I don't understand what you need to taste.
I'm tired of you, I live with divine things.
I may see your sorrow is rose with black wings.
With your betrayal my love is wont to flow
And I know that your feelings will never glow.
MCN: C3RC5-ESU38-Y6SY8
© copyright Fri Mar 04 07: 11: 10 UTC 2011 - All Rights Reserved
Categories:
jag, lost lovebetrayal, feelings, hope,
Form:
Sonnet
Not On The Menu
Sister girl don’t judge the brothers at
The zip mart with oily stained jeans
And dirty fingernails, judging him not clean
Turning your head,
Sighing with dread
Thinking he got a nerve to look your way.
It doesn’t look like he has a good pay.
You stick up your nose
Shifting your hips to that not for me pose.
To get outside and pass his ride
And it’s a Jag, a Benz, or a Dooley truck
Or a rusty pickup
Pulling a sponsored racecar in stride.
Rolling your beautiful brown eyes
at the man wiping sweat from his brow.
Your mind start counting and you go wow!
The fella with paint spots pass by you in a van.
With another right behind it
Both with the name Painter Dan.
Sister girl standing there with Apple bottoms,
Oscars, Liz, and Jimmie Chu, Vera Wang
Hung on your shoulder with your BS and BA
You’re beautiful and fly and you are definitely a Miss Thang
passing up the brother in the Honda and Toyota
Who’s going to night school to get his MBA.
Sister girl, sister girl, don’t judge a book by it’s cover
I’m a straight up hard worker, a good man, a good lover
Sister girl, sister girl look around.
You are over looking the plumber, small businessman,
and technicians…We want to lift you up not bring you down
You are passing over good men because we
are not on your menu.
Don’t meet your specifications
No where near meet your expectations.
Suave sister girl who go down your list
gotta have that, gotta have this
Drive a Lex, a Benz, make over 100 grand
who finally gets what she wants
Her suit and tie man
Who doesn’t show an ounce of love
Compassion or kindness,
And doesn’t have a plan.
He has a gold Rolex with a dollar in the bank
Sister girl, sister girl, how does he rank?
Don’t judge me by every other.
I’m a straight up good man and will never be undercover.
I’ll have your back in good times and bad.
Oh, and by the way I will be a great dad.
Sister girl, sister girl so what are you going to do?
Hmmm and hah about me until you turn blue.
Listen up sister girl. I may not choose you.
Categories:
jag, appreciation, boyfriend, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
I’ve put down the paper and pen,
‘Cause I just couldn’t say when;
The poems I’ve been writing,
Are screaming and fighting,
“Re-write us, before we offend!”
But the dishes and floors are unwashed;
My cooking has really been quashed;
My cupboards are bare,
And I just don’t dare,
On the head, I’m gonna get coshed.
So tell me, what do you do,
When the words keep flowing in you;
Do you cease your real life,
And suffer the strife;
To the muse do you always stay true?
Now you see of what I am speaking;
My errands and chores are still keeping.
But if I had the choice,
I’d capture this voice,
For the words are all here, paper seeking.
Categories:
jag, funnywords,
Form:
Limerick
writing in a cloud
cause the planet kinda drags
dirt between my toes
id rather feel the shag
brag about the crab
and how rad to drive a jag
a fad that never lags
new labels on the bags
youre able until you sag
something wed like to grab
somewhere deep in a lab
another persons trash
might have been someones scabs
plight of the hundred madly
waving a hungry flag
so what if people stand?
the under the thing to grasp
painting free thinking bad
no wonder they need to ask
lives theyre streaming sad
Categories:
jag, earth, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
Mr and Mrs private first class stationed
in Augsburg 15th battalion
second Calvary division canteens and sea rashins
were being distributed while we had four more
court martials. lined outside of the jag office
after a deferred payment plan failed again
der banke of Munich we settled in the
chaplains office to speak with der Bishop
to discuss baq. barracks and housing quarters
allowance why living on a no payment status
allowance covered wodka Cognac and three
kartens of cigarettes food and clothing
not allowances while preparing the family
to relocate again to Berlin havoc broke out
chaos arose thee Iraqi embassy under attack
der wand was stille covered in graffitii I retrieved
three stones as my chanook arrived it read
apo. new York Kennedy our convoy flew over
Kremlin and the eastern shores
Categories:
jag, adventure,
Form:
Narrative