Best Ling Poems
Ho. Ho. Ho. Here we go,
blow off the calendar
for show.
Racy red, glazy green
and bright white
blaze into sight.
Hell's bells, boredom tells.
Yuletide pride takes a ride,
while leaves on trees
as yet yearn to turn
and Turkey Lurkey is still
wheezing in the freezer.
Save your sales
for a later date;
in return, you may earn
more green
than you've ever seen.
Cha Ching!
Daffodil of your eye, hiraeth cried
Coracle of the lake
Pili palas on your head
Twelve dwts cwtch buwch goch gota
The world is full of ding-a-lings, are you sure you're not one
A self assessment will tell you, do you sometimes come undone
Do you get that uncontrollable urge
A feeling to strip naked emerge
If you think you're a prime candidate, better see a shrink on the run
© Jack Ellison 2015
I SUGGEST READING ALOUD TO MAKE SENSE OF THIS MESS
Eyed bean tort sins butt her might
nurse sirree rimes an pomes re site
pry Mary cull hers read an blew
numb hers wan two a tea to
Anne Singh a long width "Whet Whet Whet"
butt knot lettuce off thee alpha bet
off cause, eats plane four hugh two sea
eye no knot my aye, bee, sea
inn stead off righting poet tree
isle writer diction hairy
***********************************
I should right my wrongs here. In this piece there is not one word correctly spelled, yet they're all accepted English words. Spelling errors get right up my gut and in poetry they detract from the flavor.
MY SPELLING IS FINE
I'd been taught since but a mite
nursery rhymes and poems recite
primary colors red and blue
numbers one to eighty-two
and sing along with "Wet Wet Wet"
but not letters of the alphabet
of course it's plain for you to see
I know not my A, B, C
instead of writing poetry
I'll write a dictionary
Debbie, I know you asked for serious, bilingual poetry. I thought I'd throw this in the brew for fun. Loved your example, by the way. :)
An eternal optimist I am, one day closer to spring
Hey, it ain't a lie, always look on the bright side of things
Could be a lot worse
Could be riding in a hearse
Little things count like the sound in your pocket of ching-a-ling
When I was a but little tiny girl,
my Mama bought me a fine ring to twirl.
One gold ring for my small finger
reminding me of man’s up coming zinger!
My Ring-A-Ling, My Ring- A- Ling, WAIT for ONE man, that’s the thing!
My Ring-A-Ling, My Ring- A- Ling, WAIT for ONE man, that’s the thing!
Then as a prim girl in Catholic school,
I always remembered that “waiting” rule,
and every time that ring I would turn
a naughty boys kisses I would just spurn!
Once while hiding and they playing go seek
up a tree I went and the boys did PEEK!
I beaned them with apples and that ain’t all,
they cried for their Mama’s, what caterwaul!
Now, the moral of this song, well, hear's the thing,
don’t kiss those boys 'TILL YOU'RE WEARING A RING!
And, if you can’t remember you can JUST SING!
I’m waitin' for ONE MAN to give me that thing!;)
My Ring-A-Ling, My Ring- A- Ling, WAIT for ONE man, that’s the thing!
My Ring-A-Ling, My Ring- A- Ling, WAIT for ONE man, that’s the thing!
* Special thanks to CHUCK BERRY!
Ho. Ho. Ho. Here we go,
blow off the calendar
for show.
Racy red, glazy green
and bright white
blaze into sight.
Hell's bells, boredom tells.
Yuletide pride takes a ride,
while leaves on trees
as yet yearn to turn
and Turkey Lurkey is still
wheezing in the freezer.
Save your sales
for a later date;
in return, you may earn
more green
than you've ever seen.
Cha Ching!
There was once a guy named Ling
Who liked to flip and sometimes sing
But he couldn't hold a note
And sounded like a billy goat
Folk in town didn't want to hear a thing
4-8-17
Alexis Y.
Taimoor Ling
He was the bravest the strongest of all
He was the greatest and ruthless of all
He never failed nor feared the death
And the whole world followed his call
Not a tear came from his eye
When he saw so many die
He had no heart but just a stone
And yet he fought with heart alone
Every castle, every wall, every vessel
Before him fell
And his tale anyone can tell
Without any hassle
He ruled like a King
And lived like a beggar
He was Taimoor Ling
The two handed fighter
________________________________________________
My dear Xiao Ling .
The road awaits, it doth sing .
OH ! to spend this day with you – such pleasure !!!,
for me, it would be, what a wonderful treasure !!!
Harrison, patiently awaits our coming.
Acers of many coloured Tulips, beckoning.
The skies of soft Salvador Dali, blue,
waiting to shine down upon me and you.
B. J. “A” 2
April 18th 2014
Grasped in the fish monger’s fingers
The lingering ling cod now lingers
Knowing in the fingers of the fish monger
A ling cod will linger no longer
There's a lady farmer from Seattle
Who doesn't snore but moos aloud as cattle
She will only lay
On a bed of hay
Where sheep can't sleep for her rowdy rattle.
*+*+*+*
There is a woman that comes from Belgium
Who has been blessed with an enormous bum
She carries her kids
Upon her wide hips
And gets her chores done whilst they’re having fun.
*+*+*+*
There once was a skunk who’s heart was sunk
Because someone had told him that he stunk
So he bathed in perfume
Which got rid of his gloom
And started to strut feeling alike a hunk.
*+*+*+*
Pal Alfie jigged alike a raging fire
What's it all about, I had to enquire
He said he must hurry
He'd made a hot curry
And his innards were a furnace afire.
Alfie went scurrying off to the loo
I followed him to ask what I could do
He said "Just hold your nose”
“I'm ready to explode"
He did and the roof it exploded too.
We were both covered in debris and slate
And pondered how we could ever escape
Then the firemen arrived
And we’re staying alive
Now for our sakes no more curry he’ll make.
*+*+*+*
My wish is that a sweet tune I could sing
Much joy to my heart it would truly bring
I sound alike a goat
With a frog in my throat
And so I cannot sing my ding a ling.
*+*+*+*
4th November 2022
XIAO LING
I wish I knew you well ?, I wish I knew what is in your heart ?
I stepped out of my bleak, four cornered room on Sunday.
I stepped out from my sterile four walled prison to day,
walked with the sun on my face, warming the hours,
as I walked with the Ghost of you in my arm,
you, leaning into me like you used to do.
Visions of your beauty, your lovely face
graced the blue skies before me,
taking me to heavenly places
I once knew,
with you.
I saw the essence in you, dancing upon the face of
Mother Nature, Mother Earth with such joy
as your Ghost and I walked hand in hand
along the dikes (both sides) of the River
Pitt with thoughts of you and I and all
we once shared, carrying me through
the pain, the tears I shed like falling
rain drenching the earth beneath my feet.
Soggy, thoughts that we might meet once again
this time, you could feel for me, as I feel for you.
I watched the sun gaze passed the cloud cover,
wash away the ugliness, expose the whiteness,
turn the grey snow, caped mountain tops
into a clean blanket, gleaming white
and I began to wonder ?, if I will
know, no more grey skies.
Will white snow fill my eyes ?,
as I walk with the Beautiful Ghost of you,
in my arm, leaning against me like you used to do .
B. J. "A" 2
March 24th 2011
You know Xiao Ling, there is so much I would have loved to have done with and for you. I guess?, now that you have others to do for you, I will never again, know the pleasures of giving to you all that I was capable of, all that you would allow me. It saddens me Xiao Ling, to think that I will never again get to do even the little things for you .
Gone are the the oppertunities !,?, like the sun, behind the storm clouds ( your anger, your disappointments ) that have been hovering above my head like bombers waiting to drop their load on me, to watch them explode on me .
I am so very SORRY Xiao LIng, for every mistake, for every discouraging, disparaging remark / word that came from out of my mouth, for every act ( kissing, hugging, caressing, touching, etc., etc. )that upset you so .
I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me .
You have a great life !
LOVE
BILL .
XIAO LING
You are a Beautiful Mystery, I would love to solve.
You are a Secretive Soul, I want to know, your secrets.
I want to unlock, unravel, open the doors.
I want to dance with your skeletons.
I want to lay with your ghosts.
I would love to be your facilitator,
the expediter of your precious dreams,
be able to make them all come true,
be your Dream !
B. J. "A" 2
MARCH 30th 2011
A great cook is one who wears blinkers
With recipes one never tinkers
There are a few
Who dare and do
But results are usually stinkers