Best Joined At The Hip Poems
Donald Duck Chancellor of this fowl kingdom
wearing an upside down smile's raging hypocrite backwards
this deranged Duck twitters to and fro as his unhinged subjects
unwittingly applaud him onto a victory march that never appears equal
except in his alternate universe of oneness
Calamity Jane perchance is on the horizon
while war looms close by this feather prides himself
on his big show asking for a mirror to check his orange glow
he jokes and preens fading in and out so it would seem logical
tearing down all good morals he alienates with his constant magic escapades
Sleight of hand reflections move
with this fake news it gets exposed
the big top rotates under an eclipsed lie
fire breathing condemning all those against his way
entering the arena for the next late show
Now Big Bird has been caught fibbing
just when they thought everyone was safe
getting off the band wagon or so to speak
Just signing the pact with her feathered friend
letting on they are getting on so well for the world to see buddies
Almost joined at the hip like in their loyalty reigning over truth
in this ungodly circus of the vainest sort
Where the funfair clowns abound
under fabrications an orangutan watches on
beating his chest in an ape like manner and solid hands
he has no way to express words
puffing and panting swaggers
living under thee umbrella protected from the truth’s influence
Alvin and his chipmunks sing the national anthem
while the confederate flag waves goodbye over democracy
begins the three little pigs stages as they enter the building
their houses from clay flamed with truth
ransomed for vanities sake no good ending can come
Earthquakes separate the earth
floods come with grave disaster
hurricanes winds rise from the greatest source
even this cannot deter or distract this awful Duck
one mission under a selfish chant of
quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack
which only translates to me
only me, me only me, me only me!
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam Mcdaid
Donald Duck Chancellor of this fowl kingdom
wearing an upside down smile's raging hypocrite backwards
this deranged Duck twitters to and fro as his unhinged subjects
unwittingly applaud him onto a victory march that never appears equal
except in his alternate universe of oneness
Calamity Jane perchance is on the horizon
while war looms close by this feathers pride himself
on his big show asking for a mirror to check his orange glow
he jokes and preens fading in and out so it would seem logical
tearing down all good morals he alienates with his constant magic escapades
Sleight of hand reflections move
with this fake news it gets exposed
the big top rotates under an eclipsed lie
fire breathing condemning all those against his way
entering the arena for the next late show
Now Big Bird has been caught fibbing
just when they thought everyone was safe
getting off the band wagon or so to speak
Just signing the pact with her feathered friend
letting on they are getting on so well for the world to see buddies
Almost joined at the hip like in their loyalty reigning over truth
in this ungodly circus of the vainest sort
Where the funfair clowns abound
under fabrications an orangutan watches on
beating his chest in an ape like manner and solid hands
he has no way to express words
puffing and panting swaggers
living under thee umbrella protected from the truth’s influence
Alvin and his chipmunks sing the national anthem
while the confederate flag waves goodbye over democracy
begins the three little pigs stages as they enter the building
their houses from clay flamed with truth
ransomed for vanities sake no good ending can come
Earthquakes separate the earth
floods come with grave disaster
hurricanes winds rise from the greatest source
even this cannot deter or distract this awful Duck
one mission under a selfish chant of
quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack
which only translates to me
only me, me only me, me only me!
a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam McDaid
No, not a geyser,
Not a woman,
Old faithful sits
Patiently in my kitchen,
Awaiting my need for her
Old faithful is an organ,
Rich velvety tones
Growls when I ask her
Or spits, or even moans...
What a companion
She does make
No need for deception,
No room for fake...
She's gotten me through,
Many a rough time
She asks no questions
She's guilty of no crime
Her teeth, bared...
Ready to rock
She needs no food,
She reads no clock
She takes me away
On many a mystic trip
As we soar together
Joined at the hip
So keep your guitars,
Your trumpets, your bass
This girl is mine,
Smiling toothy face.
Joy and pain are joined at the hip
Can't we yet untangle that grip?
While hurt has a fang
Yin’s mad about Yang
Though sadness appears on the trip
Islands
Islands are – it seems – so many of us.
Worlds apart – alone – in the seas of life.
Joined at the hip – by an adversarial universe.
Amputated from a living solar system
by the master surgeons – insecurity, self doubt,
criticism, negativity, skewed points of view.
Tear tempests rage from within us.
Tsunamis, tearing up any traces of,
the mighty oaks we may have been.
Islands - are we ?, many lost in the sea of,
humanity all around, if, but we could see.
Drifting on crests of gigantic waves.
Cradled within the troughs of ocean’s anger,
being tossed towards the brink of humanity,
on a journey that is carrying us through eternity.
Deserted islands we have become – by choice ?
Ships that pass throughout our nights,
disembarking bodies – life boats to the shore,
these islands, secluded, to explore,
so many constipations lay within,
islands in the seas of humanity.
Islands of lost, empty souls,
islands floating – Sargasso Sea,
islands adrift – apart.
Brilliant, stands that joyous orb,
screaming down upon us all – happiness –
on beams of dancing – feet,
gliding, rhythmically, across us desolate islands,
trying to part lightness into our days,
some days ?, many ?,
it can not dissipate the haunting shadows,
shadows that shroud, darken our life’s experiences.
Good days – some – eclipsed by essence of our realities.
B. J. “A” 2
February 22nd 2008
My beloved father died
about six years ago
We were "joined-at-the-hip"
or were told that so,
When he died,
I kept getting his
credit card bills,
They grew impatient
for his ability to pay was nill
I got tired of trying
to explain,
That he wouldn't be signing
anymore checks again
So to one and all
I requested a form
A change of address...
What could be more norm?
I filled it out, new address:
Calverton National Cemetery
Area Z, plot No.2540
And from that day,
And evermore,
No credit card bills
Did pass my door!
Another true tom tale.
Silhouettes in fume thump to a doom,
They stomp with the rhythm of drums,
They point to the sky and spread open wide,
Their wrists and fingers and thumbs,
These thousands of people joined at the hip,
Joined by a common desire,
To lose themselves in the roar from within,
As the music soars higher and higher,
To a place where they’re safe away from their thoughts,
All worries are left on the floor,
And they can exist in the happy free now,
Their mind’s been released to explore,
Life without fake, no pretend, no polite,
Life without wearing some wig,
And they can all be utterly free,
At the rock band, the concert, the gig.
tripwire with spiked barbs
two trite puns joined at the hip
slapstick jabs that bruise
I know what your thinking before you even speak
Dancing through life cheek to cheek
Walk in each others steps until were smitten
We know our destiny before its written
Soul to soul our hearts do flip
Inseparable forever joined at the hip
Hand to hand eye to eye
Together again and time does fly
Back to back and face to face
Love is made in any given space
Senses are blinded and our minds do sing
Walking the same path feeling the same thing
I wish that I could make you see that you have someone that truly loves you right in front of your eyes
I love you so much, I pray for you to come back to me. I wish you can hear my silent cries
I leave a candle lit on my window sill in hopes that you find your way back into this relationship
Because you should have never left, we were so close, happy in love and joined at the hip
Help me understand how you want me to be, talk to me, tell me my faults, tell me my wrongs
Tell me that you opened your eyes and realized that with me is where your heart truly belongs
You already have my heart, please pick up the pieces that you broke and crushed
We can take things slow if you want to, I don’t want you to feel pressured and rushed
I just want you, nothing more just you… I want you to give me yourself, please give me your all
I want to be your one and only, your best friend, the one that you pick up the phone and call
I just pray that God answers my prayers and you come back to the one who loves you so much
The person that is constantly thinking of you, missing your voice and longing for your touch
The person that prays to God for your best, even if you never come back to me
I may not be in your vision, I hope this poem opens your eyes and gives you the power to see
That I am here and I will never leave your side. I will stay in this through thick or thin
Because although you left, I am still here and never left, not now and not then
So I hope this poem gets to your heart and cupid strikes you once again and you come back to me
Because you have my heart love, all you have to do is open your hands and accept the key
Ivie Twombley
1884-1913
Lottie Gordon and me were always together.
Joined at the hip, most folks would say;
You never met two ladies quite like us.
If you had known Lottie and Ivie,
The two of us at age 21,
If you had gotten to know us for our real selves;
Wild bachelorettes in french garters,
Roaming the Quaker streets and alleys,
Of Greenleaf, Philadelphia and Bailey,
Seeking out young mammon, and innocent kisses,
As we did quite regularly in 1905,
Why, you would have summoned our parents!
And the Elders of the Friends Church to boot!
Lottie and me were soulful sisters,
And best friends, especially in the snaring arts,
Trapping both wild men and civilized beasts alike!
It didn’t seem to matter one way or the other really,
Not after what happened to Roscoe.
We all knew someone murdered him.
As we both knew everyone hated him.
My Lottie, she never recovered from losing that man.
It seared my soul to see that girl so broken-hearted.
…I think of her all the time, even now in death.
She’s buried across Citrus Road in Clark Cemetery,
Over there by the old toppled stones,
And the high, giraffe-like, desert palms…
…The earth moves, my friends.
It moves without ceasing, without slowing,
We dead people can feel it rumble and grind and twist,
Rumble like an old machine in winter...
… I met my demise at age 29.
I died like Lottie,
Drowning helplessly,
Without being in the water.
And that is that.
The arch she holds is quite Roman
The barrel of my pistol is elongated
Click---Click---Bang; the race has begun
Swerving, maneuvering, and dodging
Joined at the hip on the last lap
Cramps begin to set in
Only one will survive
With her intuitive mind she turns right,
leaving me left
Breaking the finish line tape dramatically
Welcome to the winner's circle
In a world of decayed morals
Where change happens in a blink
Choices are based on greed and sex
Soulmates are all but extinct
To say that people are joined at the hip
It's only a temporary thing
In these, "me first" times of self gratification
One simply just takes off their ring
Call yourself a hopeless romantic
But not when it comes to love
Soulmate is merely playing semantics
And only pertains to doves
A Tear for Don
I still shed a tear over you, Don,
I wish you were still here, alive.
Remember the day we first met, Don,
A pair of young schoolboys aged five?
Remember how we were like brothers, Don?
The way we were always together.
We seemed to be joined at the hip, Don.
Our bond an unbreakable tether.
I think of our time as Cadets, Don,
Playing at soldiers in green.
And then you did it for real, Don,
At the fresh, youthful age of fifteen.
I didn’t much like all that serge, Don,
The khaki like wire, and sore.
So I chose to wear Navy Blue, Don,
And you laughed when that scratched even more!
You served in many campaigns, Don,
As I, in my Unit, did too.
We understood each other’s thoughts, Don.
Each knew what the other went through.
Then as our later years passed, Don,
Our friendship grew stronger and stronger.
I wish you’d been able to stay, Don,
Been my brother a little bit longer.
I still shed a tear over you, Don,
And although some may see it as strange,
My sadness and heartbreak are true, Don.
Can’t see how those feelings will change.
You’ve reached the Final RV, Don,
But I remain, soldiering on.
I’ll keep your memory safe in my heart,
Till we meet again, my brother Don.
We were like the sun in the month of May
Now we're like June, with the sun gone astray
Like Ice on a July mornin
Now, we don't belong
We were like sand on the beach; so cleansing & smoothe
But now we're like the shore, that's washed away
We used to be sunshine on a cloudy day
Now we're like the clouds,
Gloomy & gray
We used to connect on so many different levels
But now, we're so far apart, there's no reception
Now we can't talk
We have no connection
Our bond was so strong it could not be broken
Now it's broken down with words unspoken
We used to finish eachother's sentences, but
Now we speak a different language
We used to care about eachother,but
Now we care about ourselves
We used to get eachother,but
Now we get tired
We used to work things out,but
Now we're both fired
Used to be in our own world,but
Now we're on different planets
Used to share a mind,but
Now,our thoughts are hard to find
We used to know eachother so very well,but
Now we're strangers
We used to be joined at the hip,but
Now we're a thousand feet away
No force could pull us apart
Now a driving force has separated our conjoined heart.
.