Best Looky Poems
Well, well, well, looky you here
See me smiling from ear to ear
What could it be that's making me grin
Do you think I might have been into the gin
Don't touch the stuff, it makes me silly
Already silly, my mind's willy-nilly
Sometimes things that come out of my mouth
Surprise even me and surely my spouse
But as I have reached these golden years
At people's opinion of me, I just sneer
Everyone should be just who they are
No matter how silly, or extreme or bizarre
I pride myself being my own kinda man
A far cry from where my dear life began
Extremely happy with the way things turned out
Over the moon, of that there's no doubt
Had a complex once way back when
But now I'm a real man among men
Well, well, well, looky you here
See me smiling from ear to ear
© Jack Ellison 2015
A clever cookie and a good looky,
But certainly not a poetry rooky,
She always enjoys writing some,
Then stretching out in the Philippine sun,
Let's hope she never plays hooky.
Stacks of Aloneness
by Odin Roark
He wandered here among the longings
And the forgotten,
Not many remaining properly covered,
Their dust jackets of protection
Long gone.
Worn and torn,
The many leaned fatigued in their shoulder to shoulder exile,
With an occasional entombment in plastic wrap
Sweltering in the heat of its many paged passion.
He saw there was something for every kind of aloneness,
Requiring only to be read,
Not bought and placed on another shelf,
But made companion,
A redemptive power for continuing,
often singular journey of aloneness.
A sudden draft from the entrance door
Fluttered the pages of an ancient pyramid travel guide,
The open page 86 sent miniscule sand afloat,
Including its stowaway squashed flea,
Having once bitten the privates of the book’s looting bandit,
Now reduced to but another powdery remnant of history
He gazed upon the shaft of light spotlighting the settling dust.
Such never-ending stacks of tomes, he thought.
A mix of direct and implied philosophy of time,
Some read and pondered,
Others once he knew were but color-matched bindings for
A decorator’s intellectual pandering to
A 5th Avenue looky-loo,
Someone wanting the perfect life,
A delusion her inheritance
Could ever accommodate.
And then…
There was this one opus, ‘til now he knew not of.
Here, the fortune of lovers lying side by side
Beneath the weight of print and paper,
Shared a vial of death, now empty.
A desperate love wanting only to be read,
To be understood as prohibited emotion
Reduced to a finite repose in the darkness of closure,
Like the unopened book now about to have its long awaited embrace.
From his hand he placed the worn book down for ring up.
The clerk opened the cover to reveal its eye-pencil message:
“To my love. May you live long enough to finish this.”
Smiling to the obviously homeless man,
the clerk said, “Just a buck, including tax. Gotta love a bargain, eh?”
“Yes,” he said. “They say the bard knew aloneness needn’t be lonely.
Think he was right?”
She shrugged.
He handed her four quarters.
Dummying Up
by Odin Roark
Once mannequins rocked.
Utilitarian heroes propped up
Behind steering wheels,
Windows,
Doors,
Even beside display animals.
Such were the iron-hearted
Of atomic testing ground history.
Today, Saks 5th Ave windows
With their sophisticated still-life-reality,
Serve the well-to-do shoppers,
The not so well-to-do looky-loos,
And of course, the anything-will-do bag ladies.
In Washington there resides flesh and blood versions,
Animatronic wonders,
Their brain circuitry void of action voltage,
Their suits, ties, tans
Makeup, coifs and dresses
Never askew.
Yet…
These elected reps continue more immobile
Than their lauded ancestry,
Those once sacrificial creations of purpose,
Now but a desert’s dwindling radio active dust.
Yes…
Dummying up has come a long way
To its glorification as our US Congress,
Where nonsense requires one dummy-up opener
So “I’ll see that and raise your wealthy-class
Pandering with five more tax cuts.”
At which point, they break for another fund raising junket.
Unfortunately…
The game will pick up where it left off on their return,
A mannequin mentality becoming more and more inflexible.
NO-no!
Now-now!
Naughty naughty!
we see you
posin' poser
pretending to pump out popular poems
utilizing
sneaky glitch tricks
don't act like you don't know...
there you go
posting poems
perpetually perturbed
agitated arentchya' aintchya'?
impatient
mad man
feelin' flustered, FRUSTERRR...rated!
flippin' flabbergasted
aghast at absence
of reads
down on
knocked knees
prayin' please
time to take
matters into your own hands
start scammin' some
on-demand poetry sees
deal 'dem dirty deeds... damn
SHHHHHH...hush hush...
just as the clock strikes twelve
aww-hell,
no one's lookin'...
QUICK!
time to Logout of the Soup
swoop up your own stuff
swiftly stoop to
click click-clickin'
Looky Lucky Laddie!
pretty poem's page
is justa'
stick stick-stickin'
and
with a click-click here, and a click-click there, here a click, there a click
everywhere a click click...
Old McSoup Cheat
stole three hundred views,
E-I-E-I-O-
Oh no! (you didn't)
Coming
Glass and metal spread across the freeway.
Something like a melon, open, and dragged,
seeds and flesh intermixed on the freeway.
A families dreams, destroyed, on hold, shredded
and ended. What of the slow procession,
passerbys, looky-looks, rubber neckers,
just for a moment does their discussion
cease, their hearts sink at the sight. The wreckers
truck stays their studied interest, do they peek,
Does stomach drop, head spin at the sight or
do they avoid the look they do not seek
to know? It could not apply to them for
they certainly would not be so careless,
and yes,life for them is just marvelous.
And Going
Once passed the horrid carnage of the crash,
as the view receded in the mirror,
the memory too, late meeting, loose lash,
exigencies of the day, perhaps, stir
up the old habits and the gas pedal
goes back down and the race begins anew.
The gore is replaced by heavy metal
on the radio, turned down for a few
minutes but now, thankfully, all things are
normal. And at end of the day when you
are asked by a spouse or a friend, "How far
were you from that crash on 680?" Do
you stop a second, having forgot all.
A family died, maybe hard to recall.
It's CHRISTAMAS time again this year,can't believe it's all
ready here,haven't bought a single thing oh dear,i'm so far
behind.I like to get my shopping done,before the lines get
long in all the stores,i'll spend more than we can afford,but
hay it;s Christmas time.It's Christmas time again you see,let's
go pick out the perfect tree,is it leaning left or is it just me,oh
hun it looks just fine.We'll hang the tisles,string the lights,these
ornaments will take all night,it's alot of work but that's alright,
it's Christmas time.We'll eat to much and swear again,that come
new year were gettin in,the best shape that we've ever been,but
we know we're lyin.So pass the pie and one more roll,and pass me
that remote control,oh looky here I love this show,it's Christmas time.
It's Christmas time who's at the door,i'm sure there's room for seven
more,we'll make some pallets on the floor,that will be just fine.The
turkey's done pull up a chair,grab a hand let's say a prayer,for all those
soldiers over there,you know it's Christmas time.We'll wrap the gifts
in green and red,you kids get back up in your bed,or Santa won't come
in his sled,he"ll just fly right by,then you'll wake up in an hour or two,to
mommy look this one's for you,I love it hun I really do,it's Christmas time.
It's Christmas time again you know,it hit me just an hour ago,it ain't
about the mistle toe, let's keep that in mind.It's about the star that led the
way,the baby child born that day.it's cause of him we all say,
IT'S CHRISTMAS TIME!
I started at an early age
Just six years old and I can’t sleep
I need to my boredom assuage
So through mommy’s keyhole I peep.
And what a glorious event
Dad and mom wrestling on the bed
Odd how mommy’s body is bent
And how they collapse like they’re dead.
Thus my keyhole addiction starts
With the innocence of a child
And sometimes I’d see nasty parts
A bedroom circus that’s gone wild.
Finally I’m caught in my teens
I lie about my contact lens
But I knew, of course, what it means
I moved on to peeping at friends.
Excuses to spend time away
“Studying” nightly with a friend
The risk making better the pay
Keyholes — obsession and sick trend.
But it couldn’t last forever
And when stopped at a stranger’s hole
Though I am really quite clever
My habit had taken a toll.
There are no keyholes in prison
Where I’m sentenced to life times three
Questions have no doubt arisen
Why so long for a looky-see?
Well, I know well the circus act
Bouncing, bending then short of breath
Most people forget the impact
Of a finale crowned by death.
Many pairs I choreographed
With death the ultimate climax
Alas, God stared down and just laughed
No keyholes in jail level max.
January 8, 2919
Oh looky here so fine tonight
Look what the cat dragged in!
I gotta say your timing’s right
Didn’t think you’d show again
To what do I owe this pleasure?
Were ya just in the neighborhood?
I’ve been hangin’ on forever
Though I didn’t know if I should
This one sided love is vicious
I ‘got SUCH a mad crush on you!
I admit I’m a bit suspicious
Ya just ‘showin’ up ‘outta the blue’
I don’t wantcha to think I’m ungrateful
I’ll take all I can get with you
So “ how do ya like them apples?”
Oh _______ please tell me you do!
I love my son he's always chipper
he's my scallywag and I'm the skipper
and the apple does'nt fall far from the tree
he's menatly challenged just like me!
and even though his dad's a zero
"hey dad your my hero!"
having fun is all he's wishing
"hey dad ya wanna go fishin?"
lost the house a home we have not
"hey dad looky what I caught!"
no business financal ruin we sank
"aww dad you can have my piggy bank"
rich kids need toys to have fun
"love you dad!" "love you son!"
think no toys would make him sad?
such a good boy "your the best dad!"
now I know I won't always live forever
"hey dad we always be together?"
"no worries son just stay chipper
you'll have your own scallywag and you'll be the skipper!"
by Captain Mike Harris and his son
Yo baby, show lots of skin.
Sexy, trashy girly glams,
crank up classy. Young fun,
ultimate goal appear buff,
why focus on the candies.
Looky stark naked unsightly scene Hoochy coochy hot mama
Transition to a feature film,
sexy big bouffant 'fro,
Road kill, hopping show.
Tinsel town’s Christmas ornament.
Singing siren in a tree,
Style star, cheeky mood,
mesmerized pool reflections,
love with self the only goal.
Very Hollywood spreading wings
in Armani, puce, puke, puked.
Burn the house down Bo delicious
Bo peep lost her sheep,
Bo constrictors ate them all.
Sweaty salty songster sandwich,
More then the audience can eat.
Fierce frumpy funky fuzzy What’s that, that’s who,
Sizzling siren out of her mind.
SHA-ZAM, POW, HOLY ICONS!
Here on our very own stage,
Byzantine rituals make you cringe
Golden idols will make you singe.
Spend wisely but buy Chinese.
Though her life span was less than a week,
The Pink Lady of Malibu was a glorious sight,
Never to be forgotten by anyone who was lucky enough to see her
The daring escapade spanned six months
Timing her final foray on the cliff to coincide with the full moon
On October 31st, 1966, seemingly overnight
there appeared on the sheer cliff wall
above the Malibu Canyon tunnel
a 60-foot-tall painting of a nude woman
gamboling freely with her black hair flowing behind her
and a fistful of yellow lilies
No one knew who had created this guerrilla artwork
but scandalized Los Angeles County officials
Fearing traffic congestion and looky-loo accidents
They had decided she couldn't stay
House paint and a giant stencil to accomplish the artwork
The paint had soaked into the porous rock
Finding it impossible to remove her
The county ended up covering the Pink Lady in beige paint
Comin' in, his names Mitt Romney Candidate Presidential
Make a little wish and throw your savings in the well
Say's he's gonna drag the US back but drag it back to what
Back from the Economic brink or back towards the missing link
Girls get in line for the kitchen sink
Su Imigración solución? Hacer Ingles el lengua oficial
Must 'ave forgotten his granddad was an immigrant as well
The old Chiefs must be dancing at the hypocrisy of one lot
Of American dreamers telling the next lot they're not aloud to dream
His great granddad was King of the LDS (Latter Day Saints)
Repeal undo cancel out all Obama's done
All good Americans buy a bible and a gun
Repeal undo cancel out Obama's best
Don't agree with what he says
You must be a ****in' terrorist
Rom's approach to the Economy
Is to print a few more Greenbacks
Undo what Obama's done and
Abolish Corporate income tax
He's into wealthcare wealthcare
Forget about your healthcare
Stop blugging from your employer
Buy your own god damn insurance
Or get yourself a lawyer
On National Security his favorite topic
He says don't get me wrong
It's worth talking to these people
But if they wont listen to Salt Lake sense
We're not going to talk for long
The Republicans star Quarterback's
Crystal clear on Social Issues
No abortions
No pink weddings dear
No stays of exicusion
Repeal undo cancel out all Obama's done
All good Americans vote yourself a Mormon son
Repeal undo cancel out Obama's best
Don't agree with what he says
Are you strapping plastic under that vest
So allow me to reiterate
Should The Rom win the coming election
We'll all be getting ****ed by his
Presidential ******** the
Charlton Heston looky-likey's grand plan
Is to help the Mormon Church expand
He'll be sucking the Corporate shlong each day
Even though he hates the gays
And look out Iran its time to invade
The Romnater's leading the Mormon Crusades
God bless the Republicans
"The Road Not Taken," Frost slow ball to my curb," ... by The Poet.
If you instant your past past your eyes! (Uhh!)
And the pause it had caused tis now gone, (Poof,)
made of years, good, and tears, lost in sighs, (Sheesh,)
brevity ... gravity, hint's implies. (ahh.)
Well, that's that, who's at-bat, fate card's drawn. (hmm.)
It can't be. Excuse me, sir your tea, (Oh--um,)
Set it down. Half-a-crown? Sir! ... please go (Wooo!)
Day's wages? (Whoa) Outrages! Gent there, see, (Ohh!)
Looky there! (Wha?) Nighs me' chair! Good Golly? (Ohh?)
I'll fill in (hehe) ... Good evenin', ready--No! (Ne'va!)
Your manners, dear Rober--scene, public? (ahh)
Pardon young man my tongue, close to mouth ... (marvy)
brain, not close (coughs-clears throat) (ahem) teapot throes (UUU)... Republic? (eh-eh)
The other, (ahh) not smarter -- nonpublic! (hehe)
Manners Rob-bie. (Uh-uh) Nay, snob, he paws South! (Ah-ha)
Flo (tell her the day she died)... Wall Street--(cuts him off--whips) Collapsed, Wheat -- never failed (smack thrown)
They need food--place--what good ..., choice I made (sniffles-handkerchief drawn)
Cold winter (gurgling-hands her teacup). Dear sister--You, I've trailed (long sigh).
We both chose, God ... He shows (gasping) ... He unveiled (long drawn-out breath)
Rob, he made (quick inhale) ... Ed conveyed, (quick-held breath) Rob, well-made. (long exhale draws a silent table of one)
This morning I wanted to write a poem
But the words just wouldn't rhyme
So, I'll just put it away
And try another time
Well, here I am in the afternoon
Armed with paper and pen
The words will surely come to me soon
So, I'll just wait til then
I had a very nice dinner
And an extra glass of wine
Poem writing shouldn't be so hard
And I'm sure I can do it this time
First I'll have another glass of wine
Just to settle me down
I'm beginning to get the feeling
I may need to lie down
So many words come tumbling out
I can't get them in a line
My fingers are shaking so
Think I need another glass of wine
Oh, looky, looky, looky, at all dem purdy werds
Amazing how a liddle wine can open up yer head
I wish I could get dem on my paper
Before my fingers turn to lead
I 'd really love to write a poem
But I don't know what to do
So, I'll have another glass of wine
And leave the poem writing to you.