Best Leader Of The Pack Poems
why bark for oneself
when gullibility rules,
the runt of the cur
rushes to aid one’s master
rogue awaits to shuffle pack.
© Harry J Horsman 2014
Declared debris? ... O' woe is me!
I am a just a chubby club of three..
Beyond the two, ... before the four
Not the card I hoped to be
If I could choose, I'd be much more!
I’d wear a crown, and be the king
But, what the heck….the deck is stacked!
A crying shame…to have a name
that holds no pride, and sad effect
is that I hold no claim to fame!
Even twos get twice the fame!
Just plain ole’ me..
Not five, not eight, not nine, not ten,
I’m hardly worth a chip to bet
Just a three of clubs…and chubby too
A chubby club! Oh! Woe is me! …
A plain old three of clubs I am
And I get snubbed, at poker games
No one really cares for me
They toss me in among the crowd
Of royalty and joker smiles
Ace defends his rightful place
Dueces often party wild!
I shuffle in, in lower case
Get pushed around the dealer’s place
Those sevens poke their hearts and spades
Into my face! It's a disgrace!
A racist bunch! … Why must it be?
The diamonds sparkle in the light
Those snobby queens don’t flirt with me
The hearts, in fact, get all the love
Old Jack, the leader of the pack
hangs out with only rowdy spades
The odds are stacked against my name
Even when I’m old and gray
I will shuffle in, worn, bent, and frayed,
And while they play their poker game
Some day they’ll use me as a peg
Folded over several ways
To fix that wobbly table leg!
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Submitted for PD's Contest : 101 Old Poems in a Row #7
A best-selling song was recorded by Mark Dinning.
In a string of sad songs, this was just the beginning.
In 1960, the lyrics conveyed teary eyes.
“Teen Angel” was a big hit, and it was no surprise.
Many sad songs followed this one up the Billboard charts.
Their lyrics described death and tragedy, breaking hearts.
“Tell Laura I Love Her” was sung by Ray Peterson.
Another great song was “Last Kiss” by J. Frank Wilson.
We have to include “Big John” produced by Jimmy Dean.
Some more great tragic songs made their presence on the scene.
“Ringo” was recorded by Bonanza’s own Lorne Greene.
“Dead Man’s Curve” earned a gold record for both Jan and Dean.
The Shangri-La’s song “Leader of the Pack” joined others.
There was “Ebony Eyes” by the Everly Brothers.
Two tragic melodies delivered by Dickey Lee
were the gold recordings titled “Patches” and “Laurie”.
That was not the end, for in ‘68 came “Honey”.
This was a number one hit so many got to know.
It became the best effort by Bobby Goldsboro.
However, during this time, not all songs sounded sad.
A few melodies came around that were not that bad.
Among the tragic ballads that were a plethora
was the novel song, Allan Sherman’s “Camp Granada”.
My favorite non-tragic melody one would sing
was the late Bob Luman’s hit “Let’s Think About Living”.
I really believe everything would have been so nice
if only more people heeded Bob Luman’s advice!
Previews were many for a series called "Lost"
The cast was extensive, oh what a cost!
Production gave, to the viewers, a plight,
When Oceanic 815 began its fated flight
Something went wrong, the plane began to fall
It crashed on an island, a mystery to us all
The passenger list was many, few survived
Eventually, we lost, some who were alive
Injuries were treated, thanks to Dr. Jack
He soon became the leader of the pack
There were families, sisters and brothers
We, soon learned that there were others
Attraction was immediate, when Dr. Jack saw,
Kate, who was running from the law
Conman, Sawyer set his sight on Kate too,
Poor Kate, she just didn't know what to do
With the heart of a killer, Sayid had skill
He could be a friend or just as easily kill
Hurley would prove to be a loyal friend
He came with a quickness to defend
Desmond spent years resetting the clock,
Until he ran away and left it to John Locke
People soon learned that it was a mistake,
To trust Ben Linus, because he was a fake
The Smoke Monster was The Man in Black
Then he became Locke, when he came back
Jacob is gone, yet he still hangs around
Claire was missing, now she's been found
When beloved characters met their demise
It kept the show interesting, I realize
Hero Jack is my favorite, yet I shed a tear,
For Charlie, Jin, and Sun, who were also dear
So many questions, will we ever find out,
Exactly what this Island, is really about
The series is ending, scripts are being tossed,
I'll have to watch repeats, or I will be lost!
Leader Of The Pack
Impossible to lead if you weren't born within a seed.
Some structural integrity, maybe a position indeed?
Did anyone say you were in line?
This is the only way you must travel incline
Question? Have you been a follower before?
Then you'll know this; Face landing at the Exit Door.
Being born to lead many where there is so few,
Your first task should easy if you want to.
Lead On, passed the great white lights
Passed anyone's annoyance or indulging insights.
It's your job to lead barbarically through.
Checkpoint, your goals are posted too.
The program already can be installed on your hand.
All you need to do is yell out a command.
It's End Game lead on and be true,
This is not a test, it's a life meant for you.
Small furry, stripy, cuddly puss makes
Lots of noise as the early dawn breaks
And so the reluctant household wakes.
“Get out of bed now,
Come down and feed us for all our sakes,
We’re on our last miaow.”
The household can but do as it’s told,
This tabby cat is exceedingly bold.
So from my bed and into the cold
I creep to provide
The feline breakfasts as I was told,
With some milk beside.
This tabby cat is plump and quite cute,
Bossy and nurse-like, a real old boot,
Her every whim always bears fruit,
She bustles about.
She’s Hattie Jacques in a tabby suit,
Matronly with clout.
Her fur is sleek, her voice is sublime
What will she be like given more time?
Her bossy manner isn’t a crime.
Sometimes she holds back.
Her friend, an alpha cat in his prime
Is leader of the pack.
As a white she-wolf and leader of the pack,
I was in charge and knew when to attack.
It was a harsh life as far as hunting would go,
We would hunt with the Raven and share what we know.
Being the female I knew best how to delegate,
For in my command was the whole pack's fate.
I was not the best hunter for he was my mate,
This I would use to my advantage, often he would debate.
Our territory was rather large for our pack size,
In the colder months, we needed it to avoid our demise.
With only one in ten hunts being successfully won,
Constantly on the move all night, in the day enjoying the sun.
February to March was roughly our breeding season,
Usually, I'd have four to six pups within reason.
We favoured deer and moose for our main kill,
But would chase anything that moved for a thrill.
Lossing our habitat so quickly to mankind,
Threatening our survival, we are now harder to find.
Make no mistake, my life as a wolf is lonely,
Though being social is what I must also be.
1~30~2017
I am the madness of a rabid dog.
The leader of the hunt, the order of the kill.
My prey are these whores that walk the world.
Hunting them is a rush, but the kill is the biggest.
The way they use their last breath to plead and beg.
It does them no good, for I'm the black wolf of death.
The leader of the pack, the ultimate killer.
Their is no campus safe from my reach.
I've hunted coast to coast.
You'll know my kills, their throats have been ripped.
I love sinking my teeth in to those silky soft necks.
As long as my pack roam.
Whores aren't safe.
The moon is full tonight, so another hunt begins.
The Motorcycle Gang
A venue was set
Folks came from miles around
Just to hear the music & get down
The band was wailing on their guitar
A solo was underway
The brews were flowing
Suddenly the leader of the pack rolled in
It was the captain along with his faithful regime
All those Harley's on a free spirit scene
The smell of pot was everywhere what a blur
It was all sex, drugs & rock and roll
The gang circled around
A white flag was flown
There was a specific truce to part
They were running with the wolf pack
Feelings that there never coming back
Grab a lady and take her for a swing
They all carried a piece
Such rebels on the burning strip
A life on a pleasurable trip
A soul based on fun out on the run
No faith based all run on sight
No laboring for the legal tender
For that is there right
Give the finger to the fuzz
Leather pants with eyes in a trance
Eyes filled with tombstones in their head
Some have said it's the walking dead
A rap sheet that runs a mile long
Take it to the limit is there favorite song
A free will with a free bird spirit intact
They were all legends in there own right
There the sons of thunder rolling clowns in life's big circus
Walmart
I despise you
The flea on the dog
Aphid in the garden
Disease that turns into plague
Wasn't to pleased we did business with you
Was out of my control,
Had to watch the news
He comes in my room
Look of disgust on his face
Units being returned
Okay, no big deal
They never reached the shelves
Gamblers disadvantage seems unreal
You reported units sold
Numbers don't add up
Some underpaid worker
Wasn't properly trained on your scanner
It's seeing loved ones hurt
16 hours days,
Sorting through sheisty distributors
No first grade teacher telling you how to read a contract
It's brutal
It's full of life
So when someone really screws you over
You're lungs clench,
They bite
Hard to breathe
Hard to see
Wedding coming up,
Bills wont adjust
You've made it hard
Your business tactics
Make broke so abrupt
I try to keep my head high
Attitude optimistic
Trying to make a dent in the world
Hard when you're a role model for retailers
They'll be sure to follow suit
The real fear
Companies don't learn
Brick n Mortar stores will bump up churn
Because the leader of the pack
Decided to cut prices and help
High price of Low Cost,
Still cant fit my emotions into words.
Big picture,
Big release for us
Small in comparison to others
Can't imagine the look on big distributors face
When they got their numbers,
Want Walmart to burn in hell
Still wouldn't be even
There once was a fellow named Jack
Always tried to be a leader of the pack
Then one day it dawned
Three clones I spawned
Now we're all a formidable triumvirate
Another year turns over, people look to see
just what the coming year will mean for you and me.
Tomorrow's worries aren't here, and yesterday's are passed.
Daylight's your new blessing, but it's really burning fast.
The seasons change so quickly, now that we're growing old.
"Seize the day my son", seems I was always told.
You cannot live life over, and you cannot take it back,
so make a first impression, be a leader of the pack.
We hurry every day, never noticing the minutes
flying by so quickly, time has no sense of limits.
Just talking all the while, we have such tales to tell.
If only every now and then we grab a rose to smell.
Take time for those you love, and those who love you, too.
For tomorrow some of them might not be here for you.
Teach your children honesty and show them some good deeds.
Because love will never flourish if we never plant the seeds.
Two Faced Politicians
By Franklin Price
1/6/2019
Two faced politicians are the ones in Washington
When it's time for re-election, they're for the people just for fun
Will say they'll reach across the aisle for the best for you and me
When they're elected and are seated, say we'll have to wait and see
If politically they're right or left, doesn't matter much at all
Their object is their office and the people least of all
They're elected in their states, but are controlled up on the hill,
Will continue this stupidity until we've had our fill
With mid-term elections over and the elected coming back
There is new talk, for the impeachment, for the leader of the pack
He has caused of lot of problems for the gators and the snakes
Must be removed from office, no matter what it takes
Two years now in office, here are things that have been done
Unemployment at its lowest, economy is number one,
Taxes were made lower, for the rich to reinvest
Isis has been searched out and been driven from their nest
Negotiations going on, for a better world-wide chance
Now the U.S. not the only one, who is paying for the dance
The swamp folks, now in Washington, won't admit that this is true
To do the things, that made these happen, are not the things that they would do
I often wonder where we'd be, if the president not Trump
Closer to incineration, by swamp leaders, at the dump
Very few in Washington will try to reach across the aisle,
If it's not for re-election, will never walk the extra mile
We need another party near the middle of the lane
The two we have at present, have all but missed the train
The president we have, as now, has made a giant start
Neither party wanted him, the people's voice gave him the part
If not for our founding fathers, Trump would not be there
They created the Electoral College to make United fair
Each state would always have a say in the central government
The Constitution is still working as our founding fathers meant
Wake up sleepy head is all that’s left to say. Get up I say!
But of course it didn’t help… This was sleeping at it’s best!
The bus was due for school soon, and still in bed he slept.
So out came my hidden weapons, that are better than water splashed.
I crept quietly up beside him… and here is what I said…
If you don’t get up I’ll release our monstrous, fearless, great cat.
He’ll jump and walk all over you… before sitting on your head.
Then I’ll bring in our loud 66 lb lab to lick you everywhere to death.
Then I’ll bring in our 86lb lab that’ll jump up to join you there, instead.
Don’t be surprised if he stretches out taking up most of the bed.
He’s really good at pushing with those really good, strong legs so…
It won’t be long before there’s nowhere left but on the floor to sleep.
And now let me introduce our 55lb forceful, herding cattle dog.
If he can’t get you up and going… believe me it can’t be done...
He’ll nip at you gracefully while never leaving a single bite.
He’s hungry and wants breakfast leftovers before it turns twilight.
And me I’ve reset the alarm. There’s no more music left to play.
Every five minutes the buzzer will be there just for you, I say.
Now I’m going away and you’ll notice the smells of bacon, toast, and eggs.
And if the dogs are in the kitchen first… it’s cold cereal for you this day.
And once they get a taste for leaving you far behind…
You will have forfeited your place at the table I know they’ll think you kind.
And when the animals are gone from your bed…
Who will protect you while you sleep?
Remember there’s an 8000 lb dinosaur living in the living room, that I keep…
And I know for a fact that he’ll come in and drool all over you…
He’s the problem we all run from…we walk around him every day.
And I named him Mr. Report Card… for all the damage he can play.
Without him there’ll be no Xbox, Play Station, or fancy fishing trips.
So get up my sleepy young man… The world is waiting for you today.
These are my secret weapons and they work every time…
We haven’t missed the bus you see… in a very, very long time.
When you cross worlds of uncertainty and confusion
Are you not the one delighted in the trouncing of it all?
Or would you rather kick and scream until you are left squirming?
Embrace the shadowy terrain of soulful search,
Surpassing futile dignities and vagaries,
Surpassing the very souls that long to tear away your victory!
I am not the stone in the middle of the path,
The cold, rough boulder in which you pound away at
Seeking warmth that never seeps through
Engraved in the midst of me is a softness you will never understand
And as the fog surrounds you, chilling you into hysterics,
I will run through like the leader of the pack,
Feeling a wind on my face that can only be felt in the climax of the run!
I am too fast to indulge in the fires of your anger,
Threatening weakly to consume me!
How desperate you are!
How foolish this all is!
Follow me if you dare
But do not try to break me
As you lift your head to witness the peace of a crowd’s jeer
Can you not turn away and smile at their ambrosial fear?
Why do you insist on roosting in the very nests we have burned?
You turn away from the beckoning obscurity,
Yet you bask in the lies of surety!
My victory is sure—how far can you endure?
You are not the victim pushed along the wayside,
But a whining martyr seeking self-centered sustenance
I eat pups like you for breakfast,
Out of the kindness of my heart!
Rue the day I set you free
Yet do not come near my pack—or me!
Hesitant to say, I love you for you
But not enough to allow the warmth to seep through
Fight me if you cease to care
And be ready for triumph to spew from the boulders you have created