Best Johns Poems

(The Merry Adventures of Robin Good)

Sherwood's Forest legendary, leading man 
up, down, tricking eggs between branches
slender, slander, his voice is growing thinner
twisting, turning heads 50...

Read more of this work...

Old John's birthday was approaching, he'd be seventy two
And his family asked him nicely what he'd like to  do
"Do you fancy a nice picnic...

Read more of this work...

As morning glowed pale light over the town of Soup Creek,
Jenna woke with a start when she heard a floorboard squeak.
She raised her gun and...

Read more of this work...

Playing Batman and Robin is a lot different

When the Riddler is your Stepfather

And simultaneously an alcoholic and pedophile

When your secret mission is to keep him

From...

Read more of this work...

Was a cold winter night log fire was lit,
sending pictures around the walls.
They sat together on a fur rug
two happy individuals.

She smiled at him, thinking...

Read more of this work...

Pretty soon, night will fall upon the city,
And lives of crime animate spasmodically
As Gene Pitney croons “A Town Without Pity”
And the clubs and the gin...

Read more of this work...

 Homeless, destitute with nothing more then a backpack and cigarettes 
down the rabbit hole she went, no linen tablecloths just stricken wood,  
in...

Read more of this work...

When we first met, in love we used to glide
on waves of bliss like pairs of sunglow swans,
now we slowly totter,and try to hide
our orthopaedic...

Read more of this work...

Mister Johns was pretty fat for his height
He snarfed every piece of choc'late in sight
   His wife the candy was hid
  ...

Read more of this work...

Good-bye Little Debbie cakes,
Mr. HO HO, Boo hoo hoo,
Aunt Twinkie too,
I'm surely gonna miss, all of you.

Good-bye fresh bakery donuts,
Audios gravy covered steak,
Truffles with cream...

Read more of this work...

Dr. George Gey from Johns Hopkins Hospital
Was looking for cells that would be reproducible
Of their own accord for the benefit of medicine
And lo and behold...

Read more of this work...

Written by Gail DeBole on January 26, 2013

Whiskers and wisdom all in one. 
Generously and gently protecting us.
Every grandchild thought they were your favorite.
You in...

Read more of this work...

What’s in my name? It’s Candler,
A name as old as English tax.
If you’re of English descent, yours may be too.
Let us take a short trip...

Read more of this work...

Mark Hurlin Shelton is a Poet from Cape Town South Africa, born in October 1967. He was raised by his grandparents in Three Anchor Bay,...

Read more of this work...

Thoreau's beaten path to the river has
nothing on my bakery trip each morn.
We crave the ritual comfort to give us
a thought of control rather than...

Read more of this work...