Best Lug Poems
Chug-a-lug, Chug-a-lug –
no matter the fly in our
President's mug, the bug in
his thinking...my reflecting on
his ailing brain, and it's obvious
volume shrinking:
Those mindless, confusing rants,
Bidden juices-up; Psaki, drinking
without blinking – regurgitating
at deceptive White House briefings –
propaganda validated by shameless,
would-be reporters, were it not for
their obvious conscription – their
sacrificial genuflecting, having
sold their souls to the Golden Calf
of Soros wealth and tyrannical
influence –
For Progressive compliance – securing
her high place of worship in a Marxist,
Totalitarian Kingdom – Pelosi suggesting
free ice-cream be given to all, in place
of Tried-And-True, Good Old, American
Freedom –
Categories:
lug, christian, evil, leadership, political,
Form:
Free verse
9/20/16
I am Caroline Foster.
I am fifteen-years-old.
I am shortish.
I am rather thin.
I am intelligent I guess.
I am oblivious.
I am weird.
I am childish.
I am different and not in a good way.
I am the girl who sits in the front of the class because I am expected to.
I am the young actress who can only find her voice through being someone else.
I am the nerd people only become friends with so I can do their homework.
I am an encyclopedia, Google, and a dictionary all rolled in one.
I am an outsider.
I am the one who will never be accepted because of my social awkwardness.
I am and will never be anything more than a textbook.
I am only a tool.
I am scarred from the knives I have cut into my own wrists.
I am depression, a dark room with the light switch torn out.
I am anxiety that screams with deafening volume just to keep me chained to the ground.
I am the one who’s supposed to know all the answers.
I am expected to be a perfect little robot who should never step out of line.
I am afraid to accept myself for who I am because of fear of the judgement and rejection of others.
I am the girl who is taken advantage of because they know I’m too scared to say “no.”
I am terrified of failure and not meeting the highest of standards.
I am hideous.
I am disgusting.
I am so ugly that to attract a guy I have to hide behind pounds of makeup.
I am sick and tired of being labeled by my skin, religion, GPA, cup size, and my face.
I am done hiding in the shadows and letting the opinions of others control me.
I am waiting every day for it to be my last just so I can get away from all the hate.
I am suicide ready to happen.
But, I am beautiful.
But, I am unique.
But, I am still that wide-eyed dreamer who just wants to write.
But, I am a writer of stories that could change the life of one.
But, I am not what others think of me
I am not just another face among billions of others.
I am chosen.
I am a daughter of God.
I am here for a reason.
I am me and still discovering what being me means.
And I am okay with that.
I am telling you to rip off the history and stereotypes that you have been forced to lug around for so long.
I am showing that no matter who you are, there is still light at the end of the tunnel.
I am Caroline Foster.
Who are you?
Categories:
lug, angst, anti bullying, anxiety,
Form:
Free verse
Democracy now that is a laugh
When the voting is all stacked with graft
And I will give you a plug
If you punch out that lug
If you believe me you’re really daft!
You say you’re poor and you’re not real able
To put food and some bucks on the table
Just right say the rich
Starve and don’t *itch
Or drop by and muck out my stable!
Grad’s from Vassar and Yale all abhor
Those in Appalachia with dirt floors
But they own the coal mines
And their wealth is refined
They won’t mess up their minds keeping score.
You can’t get a real education
In this righteous American nation
Well go read a book
Or go shoot a crook
Rise to your appropriate station!
Categories:
lug, education, introspection, life, people,
Form:
Limerick
Plants swaying, beautiful sky, softest feeling
Clouds crusted in white with gray centers
An unexpected warmth to the air this morning.
Any hope of rain? I peer at the clouds, not knowing.
Decide to lug the hoses around and water my flowers.
A few minutes after I water the lawn, I hear a gentle roar.
Thunder? I am not surprised. Always happens after I water.
Me watering is tantamount to a Native American Rain Dance.
Suddenly I realize what the rumbling sound is.
Garbage truck lifting the large dumpster, every other Tuesday.
Categories:
lug, native american, rain,
Form:
Light Verse
Here,
where the black white shadows
pond and melt
her dress
flutters around the
pronounced scimitar
of her neck line.
Eyes whisper
fr-ig-id
with a syllabically thick accent
as if cold were a ham-fisted lug
emerging from the
yawning dark mouth
of the cabin behind her
pressing his hands
with the grip
of a dying man
bracing his last breath
with each
light blue,
half moon
fingernail.
Categories:
lug, food, people, sad, social,
Form:
Free verse
With his arm held closely by his side,
President Putin took a ride,
On his steed, so big and strong
Who thought this man could do no wrong,
It is regrettable to say
Only a horse could feel this way.
Putin is a manipulator,
A narcissist and a dictator.
Putin was on the run
Being President was no longer fun.
On a golf course far away,
Where Donal Trump and cronies play,
Mr Trump thought he played golf the best
But was never put to the test,
Because the Don was drunk with Power
All his fickle friends would cower,
They all bowed down to him
This situation proved to be grim,
He and golfers all gossip a lot,
About private matters that they should not.
Wouldn't it be fun,
Some peace at last for everyone,
If Trump was playing on the course,
And Putin passed by on his horse
Shouting out to his buddy,
Donnie, come away with me.
As things for Trump were getting hot,
And some thought he had lost the plot
It looked like a good idea
For Trump to run away from here.
So without further ado,
No goodbye or toodle-oo
Putin, with an almighty tug
Heaved Trump the big fat lug
On to his faithful horse
And without a whiff of remorse
The two rode away
And have never been seen since that glorious day!
Categories:
lug, 10th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Every little girl
has one thing she can count on
Her Dad
That may be true
for many of you
But me and my Dad
aren't very close together
We fight and fight
he puts me down
Like i was just some dog
He says that he hates
to lug me around
He said i was a burdon
and that made me frown
He tells me i wasn't planned
An unwanted child that showed up
Unexpected
A child that was not wanted even after it was born
My Dad and I
don't speak very often
only when forced to
do we speak or even look at one another
Hopefully one day,
the man who i call my dad
Will actually become a Dad
and say he loves his young child
Categories:
lug, daughter, family, father, sad,
Form:
I do not know?
I bought a used electric car, and not coz I’ve gone green
For there were better reasons for obtaining that machine.
I figured weekday mornings I could save some precious time
Transforming my used car into the voltage making line.
The first thing that I added was a GFI outlet
That was capably installed by my second cousin Brett.
I then hooked up my toothbrush and put in what I loved most
A shiny, stainless, four slice, brand new toaster for my toast.
I couldn’t charge my razor since there wasn’t any space
So I plugged in an adaptor that should cover every base.
No sooner did the mini fridge take up the whole back seat
The juice and bread and butter filled its 1.5 square feet.
Last of all I mounted a new flat screen on the dash
And don’t you know that luxury depleted all my cash.
A light went on inside my head conveying some green scams
Like selling drinks and other things while stuck in traffic jams.
Or maybe my good neighbors would be inclined to pay
For running cords to their machines while parked in the driveway.
One day I found that my car had a convertible top
When too much steam from the popcorn machine made the top pop.
And that mishap was followed by a nippy, drenching rain
Shorting my ‘lectronics; going green can be a pain.
After that the batteries did not hold a single charge
Forcing me to lug the heap to an auto salvage yard.
Someone asked why I didn’t start with a Winnebago
Coz I had fun driving something green as a tomato.
Categories:
lug, humorous, car, green, cousin,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Wherever peaches grow I go and pick 'em.
When they get ripe I try and swipe 'em.
The farmer runs out with a shotgun and wonders where's the varmint gone?
I'm hiding by the railroad tracks stacking the peaches I've found.
Then a freight train about a mile long rolls by hauling a bucket of rain.
I hop aboard while beautiful clouds gather to the north.
I put my peaches in the bucket and lug it to a hidden part of the train.
The rain begins, the night looms in, it's summer and it's thoughts and warm.
To the clacking rumble and the patter I close my eyes and dream.
An earthquake swallows up the people who wear horrible masks of fright as
their daily tasks are trampled.
In a favorite movie theater an illumined lady puts her hand in mine, warm
mouths, breath, skin, hair wing-soft, whole bodies, wind, bare.
I open my eyes at sunrise there's a steady glow of light around.
If you can believe in God, you can believe the mountains go from purple to
green.
While the last partier meanders home to bed the first farmer is up to milk his
bread.
Fruit of the world ripens audibly and cities make a silent, distant sound.
Lonely guy stretches, rubs his eyes, pees out a passing train, has a
breakfast of peaches and rainwater.
Categories:
lug, beautiful, body, fruit, god,
Form:
Verse
When the day dwindles pale...with my tall mug of ale
I'm a weepy ole' fool , it is quite plain to see
I'll shed many a tear ore' the wee smallest thing
I am known to spill oceans, with a tall chug-a-lug
There'll be tubs splashing tears, all over your head!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer
I moon over moonlight shining over the sill
While I drink with my matey, who is over the hill
O', ......he'll tell me a story of his granny who's ill
And my eyes will start wellin' and a river will spill!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer
There is lint in my eye over sharing goodbyes
I'll lament just a bit over missing Ma's pies
When a goat has been bitten by a snake that is long
I will leak like a bucket ..for a world that's gone wrong
If I must kick the bucket, so what if I do?
And if there's a heaven and the devil's not due
You'll know for sure I have a smile upon my face
from seeing my shipmates and from drinkin' my brew!
For,.......... I love my old mates and I'm lovin' my brew
I have a dilemma, it's the bluest of blues
but I can't decide which I'm holdin' more dear
a fine league of shipmates or my lagers of beer !!
_______________________________________________
For Cyndi's "Raise the Roof Pub Song" Contest
Categories:
lug, music,
Form:
Lyric
Poor Charlie came home from school in tears
He’d been teased about his huge jug ears
His mum gave him a big kiss
Said I wont tolerate this
For the teasing had gone on for years
The kids called him names like Dumbo
For his huge ears hung down so low
The doctor agreed
There was a great need
For these enormous ears to go
Soon an operation was performed
Charlie’s huge ears have now been transformed
Now small and petite
They look really neat
His new lug holes can never be scorned
08~03~16
Categories:
lug, anti bullying, body, children,
Form:
Limerick
Thank God it's Friday. Now the weekend starts.
He's off to have a few beers with his friends.
As he leaves his desk he quickly departs
As the work-a-day world comes to an end.
His friends, already there when he arrives,
Order for him a cool, refreshing mug;
They greet each other with some strong high-fives,
Though one of them misses; he's such a lug.
He likes this bar with its chips and salsa,
Which balances the bright and foamy froth;
One friend tells him what he thinks of NAFTA,
Another that he's dating a girl goth.
This place is like a temple where they can retreat
And where they can recover from the too long week.
Categories:
lug, life,
Form:
Sonnet
There are those moments that stay with us forever
stuck in time, we will forget them never
The night I picked up the phone, it was late
how could this be his fate?
I drove and on my way I got a flat tire
this seemed a cruel and divinely planned satire
The tow truck man could not remove the lug nuts
Almost midnight now and I thought he was a putz
When mom's door opened there were swollen eyes
I was the strong one to my surprise
We made the plans and bought the box
I look back now and know I was still in shock
My hair came out in clumps as I showered
Being strong and holding it in was not making me feel empowered
Then about three months later it hit me like a wall
my father was gone, I would not see him at all
I had not cried at all until that day
It seemed I could not stop now to my dismay
My words of wisdom to pass on to you my friend
Tell those you love how you feel every now and again.
Categories:
lug, dad, death, grief, loss,
Form:
Rhyme
10am means,
I awake at eight
quietly plotting my dreams
and at seven,
I barely exist
from six
-- & God, it's
much too early
& too late
to pick up these hours
like sticks,
and lug them home
Categories:
lug, sleep, work,
Form:
Salaam
Storm raged winnowing out the fen
Panic clustered in the heart of glen
we two were out not knowing the fact
We will be caught in the act
The young storm gave us a real scare
Hanging like a spider in mid air
Beckoned us on to her fuzzy golden web
We embraced each other the storm in rave
We fought against the divulging squall
Trees were falling under convulsing wall
We kissed and kissed with our love in lug
The storm was laughing naked and smug
When sun rose with his rosy pink face
We were watching the hues of God's grace.
Pick a Subject - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Subject: Storm
1st February, 2015
Categories:
lug, storm,
Form:
Sonnet