Best Joes Poems


8 Mile Style

8MILE8MILE    .     .     .     .     .    STYLE     .     .     .     .  8MILE8MILE
I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind but no matter where 
I go I see them same old hoes 
   BRING DA BEAT         c’mon, c’mon, c’mon        HERE WE GO
                  
                           YEA   YEA   YEA 
They be warin old clothes, exposin them busted ass toez in fishnet pantyhose  
They be standin in rowz, striking that silly old pose, workin them same two 
Joes
So the rumor grows, and everybody knows, that her name is rose, we know 
rose blows
 
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE,       YEA   YEA    YEA     

She got fired from LoweZ, ’cause she stole a garden hose, spent all the money 
at Moe’Z
Yea - Moe’Z ho clothes and fishnet hose, down at 52nd and StrowZ, traffic 
really slows when she bends to expose, she get dirt on them knees, when she 
blows

DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE        YEA   YEA   YEA
AND THE COP SHOWZ                     
                                    
UP, UP, UP,  EVER’BODY  UP,  C’MON UP, C’MON UP

                                                YEA    YEA    YEA
She putz the powder up her nose, didn’t pay the fine she owez, gives a 
discount to the bros
Ever’body froze, then the streetlight glows, that’z the way it goes, for all them 
bimboz
Same for the hoes, az it is for the bros, all the way from Melrose to the 
chicagos
And it’s still the same for the Souix and them Navahoes,  UH  YEA  UH  YEA
SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY PEEPZ IN THE POCONOS
         YEA  YEA  YEA            I’M OUT

OUT ROLLIN ON THAT 8 MILE ROOOOAD

8MILE8MILE     .     .     .     .     STYLE     .     .     .     .     8MILE8MILE



written by
Warner Baxter
One Knight Stand Productions
all rights reserved

Premium Member For All The Sweet Lovers

Flying Saucers, Flake, Bar Six
Country Style, Gobstoppers, Twix

Arrow Bars and Sherbert Dabs
Sweet Tobacco, Lucky Bags

Toffee Crisp and Dairy Crunch
Grand Seville and Milky Lunch

Beta Bars, Loot, Candy Floss
The mysterious chewing gum flavour loss

Golden Crisp, Nut Crisp and Fuse
Extra, Bliss and Trebor Chews

Caramel and Raspberry Ruffles
Drifter and Milk Chocolate Truffles

‘99’ Flake ice cream cones
Zooms and Fabs and Toblerones

Coffee Break, Bitz, Victory Vs
Cadbury’s Special Recipes

Swisskit, Gold Mine, Apple Jack
Tiffin, Feast and Caramac

Welcome, Skippy and Sultana
Nutty, Banjo and Cabana

Chewing Nuts, Cough Candy Twist
Butterscotch and Butterkist

Crunchie, Topic, Fudge, Mintola
Super Mousse, Crazy Joe Cola

Golden Cup, Fruit Flavoured Rocks
(The secret of) The Black Magic Box

Floral Gums and Cherry Lips
Olde English Spangles, Walnut Whips

Kinder toys encased in plastic
Necklace sweets linked on elastic

Butter Mints, Fruit Polos, Yorkies
Sherbert Lemons, Sherbert Strawberries

Bazooka Joes and Liquorice pipes
Lollipops with swirly stripes

Mint Cracknel, Taxis, long red laces
Texan Bars and Funny Faces

Winter Mixture, Rainbow Drops
Jazzies, Kit Kat, Pips, Ice Pops

Toffee Bon Bons, Drumsticks, Rolos
Amazin’ Raisin, Aztec, Mojos

Barley Sugar, Chocolate Limes
Daims that changed their name from Dimes

Jelly Babies, Jelly Tots
Milk Gums, Munchies, Mars, Pear Drops

Coltsford Rock and Anglo Bubblies
Sugared Almonds, Frozen Jubliies

Peanut Brittle, Prize, Ice Breaker
Dolly Mixtures, Old Jamaica

Kop Kops, Wine Gums, Laughs and Treets
Jap Desserts and whistling sweets

Fishermen's Friends and Hacks and Zubes
Pineapple Chunks and Cola Cubes

Everton Mints and Pontefract Cakes
White chocolate mice and jelly snakes

Refreshers, Teacakes, Swizzles, Pacers
Toffee Logs, Fruit Gums and Waifers

Rumba, Dipped Flake, T Bar, Tunes
Fry's Five Centres, Macaroons

Bars and boxes of Milk Tray
Milky Bar and Milky Way


This ‘Pick and Mix’ is yours to share

With all sweet lovers 

everywhere.

Premium Member Funny Lookin' Creature With a Squeaky Bark

I looked behind me when I heard a squeaky little bark
From out of the bushes, a kangaroo-looking creature rose
His bright green eyes flashed neon signs at me in the dark,
then he raised his long piggy snout and struck a silly pose.

"Have you escaped from the zoo to wander in the park?"
His bunny ears flopped before he wiggled long-clawed toes.
He replied, "No. I'm looking for ants cuz I'm an aardvark."
I invited him to join me for dinner at the café, Java Joes.


^-^ - ^-^   
 8-20-17
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.


Dont Be a Trust Dispenser

Thinks he's on some cool ish
But really on some bull ish
The type of dude that
You want nothing to do with

This is the type of dude 
That will  promise you everything 
Wont deliver anything
& use excuses endlessly
He'll be acting like a boss 
As he undermines your cause
Sometimes you just gotta cut ties n walk
& Whats really wack,  is when hes needed most,
Is when he busts out the o'llllll dissapearing act
I say screw him pshhh, who cares where hes at
Coming back deflecting blame & trying to make you carry that
All hes got is this,
Inflateted sense of confidence
And poppin his ballon
Shouldnt take you too long and 
Dont benifit him....
Straight to hater mode
No cash to spend....
Straight to do me a favor mode
Behind bars again.....
Staight to  prayer mode
Guess mr untouchable 
Got caught up in the danger zone
Who needs enimies, with friends like these
This guy all types of nuts, like trader joes

Thinks hes on some cool ish
But really on some bull ish
The type of dude that
You want nothing to do with

Dont let all of his kindness jestures
impress ya
& turn you into a trust despenser
Youll regret the 
day you let your guard down, 
yes he will pretend to, be genuine
Then switch  up from jeckyll 2 hyde
In a few seconds Time, his agendas
to convince ya that hes dependa- 
Bull, which is bull, I bet when ya, first met him,
The impression that he left ya
with is a confident man with all the answers like alexa
But guess what 
The less ya put creadance into the the things hes speakin
the better off youll be in the long run, yessir
© John Conde  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Name Is Jack


My name is Jack but who am I... really
I'm not a famous personality
I haven't made any outstanding contribution to science
I hope I've been a loving human being
Like so many other average joes
But will I be remembered after I meet my maker
Or will I be forgotten as I pass into history
So many famous people who leave us
Are remembered for a while
But then fade from our consciousness
I'm sure I'll be remembered for a little while
But dear life goes on
And soon I will only be a distant memory
Only those close to me will carry me in their hearts
That's all I wish for, all I would expect
My name is Jack but who am I... really

Old Tractor Mechanic

Old tin roof, plastered adobe walls that were melting
Two big Cottonwood trees, junk cars in the back
Cracked concrete floor, covered with oil and grease
Mexican kids running in and out, playing and screaming
Couple of water jugs, covered with gunny sack
In all of this was some sort of peace

Joes Montes was the owner, we just called him Joe
Joe spoke good broken English, had a little accent
Talked a lot with his hands, pointing at this and that
Did not advertise, everyone knew Old Joe
Been there for years, did not pay any rent
Always wore a greasy cap, never wore a hat

Farmers up and down the valley swore by Joe
When a tractor was down, they knew who to call
Jump in his old truck and he was there
Been known to use bailing wire, he would make them go
Cotton pickers to a hale bailer, he worked on them all
Never charged much, was always fair

Adobe wall have melted, Joe has passed away
In that old shop where a lot of memories were made
No telling how many tractors Joe made run
Tractors now have computers, not in Joe's day
The Cottonwood trees make no more shade
Joe was a tractor fixing son of a gun
© Danny Nunn  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Golden Meadow Smile

We had missed five days in
The last two weeks
Due to the ice and snow.
Roads and streets had been impassable—
Freezing rain, blowing snow and black ice.
We started the day late at 10 am.
I greeted them at the doors—
Worried about attendance.
But, ninety-five percent made it. 
Fantastic!
They were wrapped in hooded jackets
And wore toboggans with rainbow colors.
Mothers had stuffed them with oatmeal,
Hotcakes and sausage.
One carried chocolate milk
And powdered sugar donuts,
Along with tousled hair and a big smile.
I was glad they made it.
We didn’t need to lose another
Day of instruction.

The day went smoothly, too.
In spite of the frigid cold that pushed
The mercury down to two degrees.
Frozen feet tracked salted snow
Onto brightly buffed tiles.
One carried an icicle two foot long—
I convinced him it would keep outside.

Then came lunch.
The short day was ready made for
Corn dogs and sloppy Joes—
A menu that might have been invented
By kindergarteners.
But they hardly touched either one.
Today they served
Golden Meadow Orange Dream Bars—
A dessert that was surely made in Heaven.

Ice cream on the coldest day of the year.
And the February freeze was forgotten.
The orange circled smiles of kinders
Beamed a warmth from within,
Making the remainder of the day brighter,
Marking an end to winter.

New York Joes

Joe DiMaggio
was never a Joe Namath
both had New York’s pride

A Very Silent Night .

Santa omitted to visit our town 
Christmas Day was so sad ; all the kiddies let down .
Parents were livid and they all could remember
That letters were sent in early November .
No dolls prams or buggies or nice , brand new clothes 
Transformers or train sets , skates or GI Joes.
Just what had happened to cause this great blunder.
It wreaked havoc and chaos ; tore families asunder .
No new dvds or Ipods to tune .
No bikes or small trikes to clutter the room .
So what happened Rudolf and his big radar nose
To guide him on roof-tops ; nobody knows .
Seems , he went on the razz , 2 days before " Eve " .
Got a chill in his nose , so we believe ,
And lost all scent of direction ; the great stupid berk .
The excuse , we got was - " his sat-nav don't work " . !!!



Inspired by Carolyn's Christmas home-town contest .
© Sean Kelly  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Chains

CHAINS

1940s

“Joe’s”
“Good food”
The sign says
Hole in the wall
All you can call it
Joe and Ethyl – owners
Honest as the day is long
Just plain folks and nothing fancy
Never make the show on Iron Chef
Just looking back this modern day and age

NOW

Chains
Yes    chains!
Big city
Bit city chains
And modern people
Honest folk    all in chains
The chains have run all Joes out
We all clank like Jacob Marley
While the rich eat at the country club
And not at chains – Joes are gone forever

Premium Member Never Land Part 7

While midnight bats are gnawing gnats and feasting free unseen,

a toddler’s fed from garbage sheds an elegant cuisine.

Along the trails in distant dales a lonesome wolverine

feigns appetite on fogy nights and days of crystalline.



The circus gongs excite the throngs in nighttime Never Land –

they swarm to see the destiny of Freaks at their command,

while Acrobats step pitapat across the shifting sands

and Lady Fat adores her cat and oozes charm unplanned.

The Dwarfs in suits, so small and cute when marching with the band,

ask crimson Clowns with painted frowns, to lend a mutant hand,

while Tamers’ whips with withered tips, throughout the winter land,

lure minds entranced through hoops enhanced with flames of fires fanned.

White Elephants in big-top tents sell black tusk contraband

to Sycophants in regiments who overflow the stands,             

but No One sees anomalies, and No One understands.

At night’s demise, the dither dies, the lonely Crowd disbands,

down dead-end streets the Horde retreats, their threadbare rags in strands,

and Janes and Joes reweave their woes, for thoughts of change are banned.

Continued

Unsuspended

Lisa was tired of getting no calls
from Joes, Ethans, Toms, Randalls, and Pauls.
She took a bad chance
with a guy named Lance
who turned out to be lacking his balls.

Premium Member Sometimes I Just Hate Myself

Standing in an open field the sun
burned deep through my forehead mesmerized
by the arrow in mychestand the
bullet in my back--motionless quivers a
numbed spine paused my heart in a 
rapture of devious contempt from a 
long distance voice of panic depression
while lying with a rose petal of thornless
infinity---the bearer of this booklet trapped in a 
Zodiac chasm of bottomless neverchoices
chants a harmful chord of courted chaos.
Free admission for the file of names that pass this way
that leave the dead lamp burning for useless
noones---abandon the frenzy wise sleuth and don
the love clown that fits you so well. Service to the innane
truth you call yourself and hope the 
arrow bullet blend in a vicegrip ballet--
crippling your for afterlife shadow of
uncommon pretense. Take it to the place
where you stand lying down and grovel in your own
wasted time with little notion of grevious malice. There
is no pain only longing---no death only one size
fits all nothing and hear the vultures laugh 
lovingly in the distance.   Eat at Joes.

Out of the Shadows - Hit Man

(read Part 1 first)


Woken by a sound, then reaches for his piece.
Startled from that faintest whisper, on the run from the police
Four hours sleep for this mysterious chap is normality, 
Slips into his Armani suit, this being the usual formality.

Waiting, expressionless next to the hotel window, 7 floors high
The death of his mother would not even make this man cry. 
Cold hearted by nature, his soul found a way to escape this life
It all started that day when he came home to his bloodied wife.

Leaving his home that very day…. no return for Joe, couldn‘t wait.
He stood pale faced alone in the pouring rain, not knowing his fate.
(How did this happen to him, how could his wife be gone?
He left for work, then came back…….what did he do wrong?)

Months later, still no emotion displayed on his clammy skin
Being determined that he will not stop until he feels a win.
A puzzle, fits words like a crossword, coloured shapes in holes
Slowly but for sure, he is watching as this enigma unfolds 

He has his target, blonde hair, blue eyes with a trade mark scar.
This man surrounded by ‘his men’, he drives a blacked out car.
He knows no limits, no mountain too high, no abyss too deep
Joe will not stop until the end, his goal to put this man to sleep.

This target will not have it easy, its part of Joes plan.
Do not mistake the stalking from Joe as being “Mr Scars” biggest fan
Empty houses with darkened windows, he watching for the right time
Months ago Joe would have never have lead a life of crime.

Days not hours, patiently waiting for ‘Scar’ to show his face. 
A tear runs down Joeys face, memories return but he keeps his grace.
What’s this? Scar on his own with no protection around his bubble
It will be the biggest mistake he has made, for he is now in trouble.

(Part 3 in writing)

Powers

(On May 1 1960, at the very depth of the
Cold War, CIA pilot Gary Powers was shot
down over the central USSR.  Here we are
imagining his conversation with a charge
d'affaires of the US Embassy.  Powers
is threatening to go public on CIA 
mismanagement and to tell all to the
Russians - the Igors and the Borises.
Powers died soon afterwards in a
helicopter crash.)

What's Thompson's game? He's sent a charge here?
He should have come himself. So, Mister Jinks,
I'm going to assume you're with the firm.
Tell you what happened? Why don't you tell me?
Okay, I didn't trash the Thunderbird -
but I was kinda busy, get my drift?
My face was pulling g's to beat the band
and if you knew the vehicle, you'd know
the seat ejects like bats fly outta hell -
explosive bolts. I'm falling vertically,
and spinning like a top, and if I get
alignments wrong by half an inch,
the console cuts my legs off when I spring.
So what? So this. I had things on my mind.
You want your secrets kept? So train us right.
Foresee contingencies.
                                           The silver buck?
I chucked it. Threw it, as the chute came down,
but kept the pin. The Igors have it now.
Well fella, you got questions and to spare,
and I don't like the way they're shaping up.
Oh sure, you got your job to do. Me too,
remember? I'm the guy who got his ass
shot out the sky at sixty thousand feet!
I didn't buy the farm. Is that a sin?
Tell Langley I'm an Amish - what the hell?
I told them it's curare.
                                        Get real, pal!
They may be Borises, but I won't have
some guy get stiffed because he pricked his thumb.
They'd find out anyhow. You bet I have!
I got more beefs than Texas. Pin 'em back.
Nobody thought it through, this turkey-shoot,
or what we'd do, dumb Joes like little ol' me
when Igor got us. Unprofessional!
Now bust your ass, and get me outta here.
When I get back, I'm gonna tell the world
how Langley hangs its fly-guys out to dry.
We got a First Amendment. Let 'em try!

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