Best James Poems
We walk in the ocean against the tide.
We hold on tightly to survive the ride.
This life is not easy
This love not in vain
We try to walk closer
We try to sustain
There are times when our hold breaks
And one of us will fall.
But the other stands near wanting and waiting to answer their lovers call.
The sun comes out briefly through the dark gloomy skies.
We know it won't last but our hope never dies.
This is a rough road that we lead in life.
But there'll never be a day
I regret being your Wife!
Wipe that silly grin from your face, boy
I am a woman, but certainly not a wimp
Watch me roll with the punches, tough guy
It'll take more than your words my style to crimp
Hey, babe, your style really sucks
Call that art, I have seen kids write better
Have some heart, instill it in your writes
Feel the moment, feel those letters
My feelings are there, you just may not relate
If you can't grasp my intent, too bad for you
I write from my heart, not from a man's head
I know what I'm saying, you just haven't a clue
Oh, i see you have posted another piece
Let me read and determine my thoughts
Excellent shape and so true to form
This definitely has plusses, you must be man taught
Hold on, joker, no man has influenced me
Dickinson and Teasdale are among the finest
Your thoughts on my work I'll disregard
Your views on poetry reveal your blindness
The last write you wrote, has invited my see
It has clearly shown, your writing to be
Scope, shape and the form you have written
I have scrolled to your past, and I am sorrowful smitten
No more condescending from ye on the throne?
What was it that made you feel superior?
And, furthermore, what gave you the right
To make any poet feel inferior?
Dear Carolyn:
Another letter from another tour
In this place in the sand they call Helmand
This will be my last, for you can be sure
To never look back on these Afghan lands
Dear James:
It's been so long since I've felt your embrace
Studied the constellations through your eyes
Found joy in the manly features of your face
Or recovered from our last sad goodbyes
Dear Carolyn:
Another two lost, one was my best friend
Before it's me, I pray my leave is soon
My heart is crying out, my hopes descend
Is tomorrow my day, in deathly strewn
Dear James:
I've been praying so hard; surely you're safe
The son I carry will have his Dad's smile
I don't think God would orphan our young waif
You must walk through our door in a short while
Dear Carolyn:
The joy in your letter, mother to be
Me a father, soon to be homeward bound
Grow with my kin in the land of the free
To thrive in peace on American ground
Dear James:
I think our boy will be a football star
Perhaps he’s sending a message to Dad
Like Peyton and Eli he’s thrusting hard
To have you and him here, I’ll be so glad
Dear Carolyn:
As James was preparing to say goodbye
Boarding the chopper to take him your way
Enemy aircraft dropped bombs from the sky
I regret to say this was James’ last day
Commanding Officer Brannigan
U.S. Armed Forces, Afghanistan
When my fingers hurt
the pain binds and forms
at the base of my greatest fear
I never knew fear
Until it knocked on my door
So fierce that
What words were on the tip of my tongue
Are drying up into dust in my mouth
The taste that lingers a lifetime
a sickness summoned for the saints
to strafe the fear growing inside the soul
My heartbeat escalates to full speed
But my body is numb to the floor
And my mind is in a twirling tornado
Tears of fear rush down into streams
When my fingers hurt and I can not write
this fear beckons to my mind
as I use the verbs to clear the nerves
Can you hear the drops of my tears
Drumming to the beat of my fear
A breathtaking panoramic view fascinated my sight into the offing,
As the sea gloriously shows its precious treasure magnificently floating;
Making me wish to be an albatross to hover and hop around;
On those beautiful islands highlighted by a single beauty named, James Bond.
This place is known originally and locally as Nail Island,
It’s one of the best tourists’ spots found in Phang Nga Bay at Phuket, Thailand
A prominent tall stone coated with green nailed unto the sea amidst the others,
Which you and I will surely be amazed by its spectacular beauty and wonder.
Sightseeing trip is priceless while on your way to its exact location,
You can pass by at the Monkey Caves with golden Buddha - another real attraction,
Taking a convenient long-tailed boat as you finally tour along the bay,
Stop by at floating Bin Laden Village to complete your day.
Aug. 2, 2013 12.30am
Note:
I've visited this place once & it's really beautiful. To view the pictures, you can google it or watch the movie of James Bond;))) TY
Third Place
Contest: Latest Poem
Judged: 8/14/2013
sponsor: My greatest poet, PD
Double oh Sevens
The gamble of dangerous men
Poets who carry guns
To shoot out the hearts
Of unsuspecting ladies
A single word, a bullet
That can wound or kill the love
Of any careless romance
Yet they fall at the feet
Of mystery and sweet words
And later in the evening
Tears flow from ladies of sadness
Left alone among the sheets of love
The Spy, he could save the world
Yet save not one single love
He grew old and alone
His last thought among the living
I die a lover, and never felt love
For who is this poetry destroyer
A cop, but who else would employ her?
As she spies no end
No poet, she pretends
Vanilla ice in leopard skin fur.
You ask If I want mommies hug
wouldn’t that be nice, lovely and snug
You just want to hold me
Under that great oak tree
And kiss me on your picnic rug
You want the vultures to enjoy
My sweet flesh, is that your ploy?
Wanting to be them
Eyeing up my sweet gem
Tell the truth, you just want a toy boy
Well our future together would be bright
Injets, pens and cartridges in sight
You’d color me in
Goodness what a sin
As I would always do the best write
Hang up your gloves as your are weak
You are also classed as an antique
A low blow I know
Don’t cry, don’t go
You can come back with a new technique.
If I don’t hear from the poetry cop
I will know I have come out on top
Good bye little girl
Give us one more twirl
Now, this should be the final full stop (.)!
P.D, this is the first one ive done. Took me a while. Very good fun though. I kind of limit’s
the write.
With no toilet seats carelessly left propped up
Oh, now I can be such a comfortable pup
Please take your Playboys straight out that open door
Then shut it quickly; I can take no more!
Be gone with you, take all your shoes
Your hairspray, make-up and your girly blues
Three weeks of the month you loved me fair
For the other week, I lived in fear
MY shoes? Why you foul beast! Your odor eaters
Didn't work! Your smelly boots rest in sewers
Where they belong with that greasy hair goo
That left ugly stains on pink pillows once new
Your pants were too tight, I couldn't get them off
I can now wear my own; no longer you'll scoff
And as for your cooking my health has improved
Your name on the rent book, phew! finally removed
The credit card tab from your pub is gone now, too
That hussy barmaid can deliver it to you
And your shavings that clogged up my bathroom sink
Will be mailed to your mistress fast as you can blink
At least she knew how to look after a man
In bed with you was like a flash in the pan
At least barmaid Betty purred when this Highlander taunted
She was sensuous, delectable and she knew what she wanted
I'll remember you most when viewing pond scum
You sure were a loathsome son of a gun
I'm leaving this pit, too, so what the heck?
I'll send a new address for the alimony check
You'll get your money like you earned it before
Dancing naked on the pole in the floor
I took you in, clothed, cared and fed
But it wasn't me that was in your bed
May your married life be fruitful
and full of color,
And may your life together
be forever entwined,
like ivy on a wall.
James Gareth is what you call me Destroyer
No charge but released by a good lawyer
A technicality as my names Gareth James!
That’s Gareth first, now I’ve shot you down in flames!
Oh, and my H.C. Hammers, did you want them back?
They may need a wash as they’ve been half way up my crack.
I know they are your favourite undercover police clothes
The cap that came with it, you want that back I suppose?
That must be the cap you was on about?
You shot me! Zap, Zap zigidy Zap
Is that all you could come up with? Put on your thinking cap!
Back to the drawing board, you must go
Find some words, none of yours offend me so!
I called you hot, I remember, for that I know
I meant the humid heat coming from your big toe!
My words of yesterday may rot like you said
Mother nature and I, we share the same bed ;-)
I’m surprised you know what a Haiku is?
Maybe you should hang in your gloves, and try a kids quiz?
I think you need to chose a brand new name
Your reputation now, has been shot down in a flame
Destroyed my poetry, for you have not
Your name again, remind me, for I have forgot?
(I said it would take me a while PD!!! Good fun to write though!!)
For poets seeing this for the first time, it is fun autherised fun between the poets involved!
No new blogs needed!!!
Tanka, didn’t work for me you see.
Sorry for the wait, I’ve been as busy as a bee.
I see PD is getting a lot of praise
I’m confident, PD, it is not just a phase!
I had to wait to view some of your writes
I had little information, but I let you out of my sights
PD, I have recaptured my Soul today
Shoot me down if you want and have your say
I read your Haiku and it would be easy to hurt
But my friend, that time has gone, no more dirt.
I open my arms to embrace you true
Change of direction, writing about the colour blue
Blue is the colour of protection and the spirit
I give it to you, you can walk forever with it.
Poetry Destroyer IS the wrong name
Poetry Supporter is the correct term, but what a shame.
I wish you luck on you future hits
The day will come you will enter the grand old Ritz
So, the offer is there stands there my dear PD
Hit me hard, knock me out, send me to sea.
Is this the white flag, you tell me?
May be it is, lets wait and see.
Send me to the stocks or chain me up
Poetry police, long term i'll never give-up
In early spring I found you on Poetry Soup
A haven where wordsmiths congregate to recoup
Some sense of sanity in a world filled with grief
Your friendship, dear Highlander, has brought much relief
Being new to writing, I decided to try
So I joined the Soup, and a name caught my eye
Carolyn Devonshire, was the name in question
Her guidance has taken me to a different dimension
Who'd know the Soup would bring a Scottish writing mate
It was our destiny; now I believe in fate
A braveheart's pen paints history and mystery
Erasing fear and lifting me from misery
No sooner had I arrived beautiful comments were received
My writing was enjoyed and I now started to believe
An American lady has become a soul mate and teacher
Her words of kindness enhanced my words to be featured
So much loss I'd incurred just before we met here
Never had I dreamed of finding a comrade so dear
He reached across the sea and took me by the hand
And together we've escaped to fantasy lands
Before the Soup, I posted somewhere else
If you were not one of them you were left on the shelf
But the Soup's beach babe led me by the pen
I was absorbed in her circle right there and then
James and I propose a toast to many Soup friends
Whose talents are displayed here again and again
Too many great writers to mention each one's name
A new year comes as you enter our Hall of Fame
Happy New Year from James and me to all of the Poetry Soup Family!
James Hinkshaw
There once was a man named James Hinkshaw.
Who planned to go to town for a jigsaw.
He had hick-saws and jinx-saws
He even had a wink-saw.
But no penny-whinny jigsaw—
He loved riding to town in his rickshaw.
Once he drove there to buy his new jigsaw.
His new rickshaw broke down.
He was not yet in town.
So, he walked there with hacksaw and jinx-saw.
It was a long day for James Hinkshaw.
He walked into town with no rickshaw.
As he went on his way,
A bear started a fray.
So he killed the old bear with his hacksaw.
There, alone on the road was James Hinkshaw.
And the bear butchered there with his hacksaw.
Oh, what could he do?
He felt sure no one knew.
He was there with dead bear but no rickshaw.
Poor old James had not made it to town.
And the sun was about to go down.
When he knelt there to pray,
A peddler came his way.
And sold poor old James Hinkshaw a jigsaw.
James Hinkshaw then had a new jigsaw.
To add to his hick-saws, and winks-saw…
He needed to go home.
In the dark, he could not roam.
What would happen to weary James Hinkshaw?
The peddler who sold James the jigsaw,
Gladly drove him back to the rickshaw.
In exchange for bear meat,
He let James rest his feet.
Toeing home, James Hinkshaw and his rickshaw.
DEDICATED to my grandfather, who would never say, “Pudding &
Taine…ask me again and I'll tell you the same” He, instead would laugh and rapidly say,
“James-John-Hinksaw-Winksaw-Penny-Winny-Jinksaw!” (Of course, this was Not his name)
LOL His imagination and mine are now joined…again. SMILES. I love you, Granddad!
© © Dane Smith-Johnsen
February 21, 2010
Poetic form: Limerick: a story series
I once shocked you
by my Queen Maud Fromage poem,
remembering a time
when the good Queen Maud
choked on the heavy stuff.
Her courtiers were
about her suddenly,
and Queen Maud was
thumped on royal back
most thoroughly...
Thoroughly, yes thoroughly...
I have it on good report.
A doctor would not lie to me
about Queen Maud, now,
would he so?
The event put Queen off
the cheese for life
and she forbade it in the larder
or else her staff
taste strife.
---------------------------------------------
10/13/2016
Contest - Give Me Your Best James Tate
Sponsor - Space Cadet
4th place win
Two empty coffins...with unknown names
Saved for the unfortunates...of Jesse James
Made for the men, they say...Jesse killed
Only a matter of time, they'll both...be filled
An Epitaph To Make Me Laugh Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jesse Rowe
4-22-2019