Best Macon Poems


Po-Mo Remix

That's not MY elephant!
A spiteful conceited elephant that ran away from the circus
MY elephant provides copies of the Bill Of Rights to all 2nd graders in Macon County
Considers fund-raising possibilities of selling elephant ears at Zippy Zoo Days
The kids will bring their white elephants and we will do a Spaghetti Feed
At RATS youth ministry--Can a mouse lift an elephant?
If you want to move a heavy load you have to use force
Where would you push?
For this lesson students used a triangular piece of wood
One side labeled Rights the other Responsibilities
Drop a marble in the balance (They used a 10lb. sack of potatoes)
Its all educational
But Barbar--You wouldn't catch THAT elephant playing jazz on his trunk
Not that elephant jazz in Austin  Jazz de Chang (elephant in Thai)
Playing with pink noise and changing the recipe  spaghetti
Too hot for a drumstep (bootleg) from the Elephant House
While Ella singing When I See Elephants Fly gazes over Matisse
The Nightmare of the White Elephant from the jazz series
Hanging over the elephant jazz bar  nu dark swing dubbles
Ella and Wave for singers a Nightmare autographed Artie Shaw
And the poet on each finger has  the following written
Somebody     Wanted    But    So   Then    says  Clustering thats the way
To do it  says  Glue the stick to the hand--Fulcrum
And then gives all the brats rides on an elephant named Bubbles!
Categories: macon, animals, on writing and
Form: Narrative

Premium Member My Softest Light

Wherever we lived, summer meant 
riding in the car ~
red clay, Georgia bound

My excitement grew with each state
trapped in Daddy’s rearview mirror.
Macon was relative love ground
where smiles were not lost but found.
I always sat in the back seat, heart viewing you,
knowing before dark came
I would hear your dear accent say my name.
After dark, I knew I would stay with you ~
not brother, or little sister, Pooh,
but me, snuggle loved in your bed
and you would care about all I thought and said.

Sweet, Grannie, for decades now I have missed you
I can still hear your voice, see your eyes twinkle
and 
tonight I embrace space
seeking your dear, fresh powder presence

gentle words of love’s selfless attention
turned to silence way too soon ...
in my heart we still share love 

Grannie, you were the softest light in my youth

Could you but rock me secure once more this night –
sing your comfort songs – gently hush my grown fright -
safe, sweet Grannie arms would shield me in love’s truth

I still talk to her
close my eyes with hopes she hears 
~~ she believed in me ~ ~ 
her image never leaves me
my adult still craves her - here
Categories: macon, absence, childhood, emotions, grandmother,
Form: Verse

Georgia Girl

Gonna see my to Georgia girl
Hanging up my weary blues 
Nothing but a yearning heart
A dollar and my walking shoes

     Georgia Girl, Georgia Girl             
     Take me on a midnight twirl
     Fill me up my lovin cup
     Thinkin on my Georgia girl

Georgia girl is waitin on me
Hope I get to see her soon
If I can get half way tonight
I surely will be there by noon 

Macon ain't my middle name
But bacon is my favorite game
Georgia ain't seen nothing yet
She just won't ever be the same
Categories: macon, loneliness, lonely, longing, love,
Form: Lyric

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member What I Have Kicked Off My Bucket List

WHAT I’VE KICKED OFF MY BUCKET LIST.

Kicked off to do’s before I knew, 
the term called,” Bucket List.”.
What we teens termed, “chasing our star”
”our dream” or … our heart’s “wish.”

With twenty -five bucks chased dream, from
Georgia, New York, on a train, 
Chasing dream involving fashion,
chase little piece … of fame.

 “Times” Classified Men's ad. answered,
interviewed by Vice President.
Didn’t get job, we’re fifty years wed,
glad on interview …went!

Christian Dior my design used,
next a New York award.
Georgia’s Woman of Achievement”
humbly … thanked my Lord.

In Macon, Georgia I started
“First Fridays” events here.
Through namesake, Joycine’s Art Gallery”
my art and others … cheer.

Deathbed promise made a best friend, 
poetry publish and write.
In “P.S. Anthology,
a bucket wish … delight.

My Bucket list greatest, check off,
was my son Paul's birth.
Of all awards  received in life,
God’s gift… greatest on earth!

Contest  What Have you Kicked off Your Bucket List
by Chantelle Ann Cooke
Categories: macon, adventure, blessing, courage, new
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Now You Know the Rest of the Story

Outline of a figure in the clouds
Evil eagle on right shoulder
Angel archer behind aiming at the evil bird...

When we are unaware, an angel is always there
Following to protect from harm
How many times a day does things not go your way?
If they had happened as you wished,
Doom would have been your fate.

Praise God it is not too late
Praise Him for the Angels unaware!

Once long years ago, our son-in-law
Was late coming to pick up the grandson
We had to go to classes at Mercer in Macon
My husband was just so upset....

We was running about ten minutes late
When we got to a place where there was
An old homeplace with two huge oak trees..
Which were right on the edge of the road
There was a traffic backup and we had to wait.

I am thinking there must have been a wreck
No not a wreck ~~One of those trees had been blown over
It lay across the road where if we had been there maybe ten minutes earlier
Well! You know the rest of the story.....

(Andrea, the first part is what I saw in the clouds)
Categories: macon, introspection, life
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Newest Limerick

Newest Limerick

There was a  young lady from Macon
Who cooked up a big batch of bacon
Her boyfriend ate some
And so did a bum
Now both of their bellies are aching

4 February 2020 For the contest sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Categories: macon, funny,
Form: Limerick


Philosophy 1

Philosophy 1

Our side-by-side desks were acquainted. Sadly, we were not.
Sassy and blond, Tammy Sue was a philosophy freak.
Afforded by Macon, Georgia she idolized Julia Kristeva.
I idolized Tammy Sue.
Near the end of the semester at NYU, desperately intrepid,
I dragged my suddenly torpid legs towards Tammy Sue 
and blurted out a line I had just read; 
“Metaphor fashions a doorway from language, leading out”.
Tammy Sue regarded me.
Cringing, I anticipated painful rejection.
“Oh, Eric” emerged from her precious lips.
“That is so CLEVER!”
she drawled; drawing out her words to last, it seemed, forever.
“We” lasted two months; then the magic of that line wore off.
“Eric, you’re so sweet” she began.
Unhinged by the dagger in my heart, 
I heard only her finale,
the Lord Tennyson classic,
“I am a part of all that I have met”;
then a kiss and goodbye;
a fitting close for philosophy class.
Whenever I repeat those words I feel her part in me.
© Jay Herman  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: macon, romance, words, philosophy,
Form: Blank verse

When You Ain'T Got Nothin

Chasing my thirst into the
  desert at night,
  Otis Redding was right….
   “You don’t miss the water till the well runs dry”

And marrying the wrong woman
  for the second time,
  Smokey Robinson was right….
   “You better shop around”

Writing my pen empty with the
  same old words,
  Cat Stevens was right….
   “The first cut truly is the deepest”

And living in Macon because
  I thought it was safe,
  Charlie Daniels was right….
    “The devil did come down to Georgia”

Losing my religion only to
  seek God again,
  Robert Plant was right….
   “You can’t buy a stairway to heaven”
  
And when I’m alone and desperate and have 
   nowhere left to turn,
   Bob Dylan was the most righteous of all….
   “When you ain’t got nothin, you got nothin to lose”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
Categories: macon, metaphor,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Macon Bacon

So Willy Wonka’s gone and now I’ve got
his factory. Though chocolate is great,
there’s something else to which I’ve given thought!
Because of Covid, livestock’s gone to waste.
Please, Farmers, do not throw your pigs away!
Although it’s getting hard now to sustain
those animals, pigs’ lives can’t be in vain!
My company is here to save the day.

Inside my factory, we specialize
in makin’ bacon, for who does not love
that sizzlin’ stuff? I’ve brought back bacon fries.
My restaurant nearby has plenty of
the bacon lover’s best! For example:
bacon sliders, bacon mac, and for a tease -
elvis egg rolls, which are more than ample!
We serve bacon onion rings and grilled cheese,
maple bacon smokies, bacon cheese logs,
even bacon apple pie and ice cream!
I want to give a HUG to all the HOGS
who give their lives to make food such a dream.

Old Willy Wonka – he was much too sweet.
At Macon Bacon, life is one gigantic salty treat.

May 20, 2020
Factory located in Macon County, MO (in my imagination)
For Caren Krutsinger's Willy Wonka Is Not Here So What Is My Factory Going To Make Poetry Contest
Categories: macon, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Megan Makin Bacon-

Megan Makin;
Bacon!
She lives in Macon,
Georgia;
She baked sweet potato pies and cobblers;
She has a boy whose a toddler;
He no longer crawls he just woddles;

8/28/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Categories: macon, adventure, allegory, cute, funny,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Hamford Hog

Hamford Hog sat on a log
Waiting for Buford Butt
They were headed to Macon
To buy a pound of bacon
Which to me seemed somewhat odd
When they could shuffle up to Boston
Which I’ve done quite often
To pick up a pound of scrod
Categories: macon, nursery rhyme,
Form: Rhyme

Where the Lights Were Low

(verse 1)
Oh, she met him by the river
In a place where the lights were low
And the music made her shiver
For there were things she could not know
He asked her if she were taken
She said someday but not just now
So he smiled and talked of Macon
And seemed to take a little bow

(verse 2)
Well, he left her arms at daybreak
Then kissed her gently on the cheek
He smiled just before the heartbreak
As her tears began to leak
He didn't say another word
As he walked toward the rising sun
She wondered what she might have heard
Did he tell her she was the one

(chorus)
One day she read his name in print
He had died in that war of woe
She knew her last good day was spent
By the river where lights were low

(bridge)
That day together not long ago
Still lingers in her mind and soul
Was it meant for her to meet him so
Spend her days with this gaping hole

(chorus)
One day she read his name in print
He had died in that war of woe
She knew her last good day was spent
By the river where lights were low

9-14-20
Contest: Completely Your Choice (9)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories: macon, war,
Form: Lyric

Luck of the Devil

At a Greyhound station in Macon, Georgia I gambled my soul with the Devil.
He strolled in after midnight and told me he was on the level
and asked if I was a gambling man and I said, "Well, that just depends,
I never flirt with another man's wife and never play poker with friends."
"I don't want to be your friend," he said, "just want your soul for damnation."
and from his mac he produced a pack of cards for examination.
"The games Blackjack," as cards fled from the pack and landed in my hand.
"Best of five? Then your staying alive, if I get three then your damned."
The first four games saw honours even with both getting two games each
then the Devil dealt the final hand and I lost the power of speech
as he turned over the first of his cards, a red lady, the Queen of Hearts
I matched him with the pilfering knave, the one who stole the tarts.
His second card he then revealed, the husband of the Queen
and a rasping cackle escaped from his throat as I turned a little green.
I flipped my second card to see the King of Spades smile back,
but my relief was only brief and the Devil slammed down the pack.
"Too bad," he oiled, "I pay 21's." My face distorted with pain.
"I'm not finished yet, just honour your bet and hit me once again."
I picked up the card he proffered and held it close to my face,
I sneaked a peak then slammed it down to reveal a club, the Ace!
My soul was safe, the Devil roared and stormed out with a boom
and all that remained was the faintest whiff of sulphur in the room.
© John Jones  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: macon, dark, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme

Ohoopee Bound

Ohoopee Bound
-
She played a six string guitar
With a lowdown Georgia flair
She played it in a tavern
In the sultry Summer air
She played it for the locals
When they came each Friday night
She played it for her lover
In the early mornin' light

She could play a thousand tunes
And she never missed a beat
She could play in Winter winds
And in the Summer's heat
She played guitar at weddings
And at divorces too
At times she played from boredom
When she'd nothin' else to do

Then one day she disappeared
Some say she went to Macon
I found her 'neath a pine tree
She seemed a little shaken
She said I'm tired of guitars
And all those empty faces
I need to play a violin
In green and empty spaces

Well I gave her my old fiddle
Said I'm Ohoopee bound
Told her she could come along
She said I'll stick around
Said she might come by one day
Just to smell the breeze and play
So if you hear a haunting string
Just tell her I said "Hey"

2-14-19
Categories: macon, music,
Form: Rhyme

The Story of Boxcar Jack

THE STORY OF BOXCAR JACK

NOT MANY KNOW OF BOXCAR JACK
WHO LIVES ON A  TRAIN GOING WAY BACK
HEARING THE SOUND OF THE CLITITY CLACK
THAT COMES FROM BEAT OF A NORTHBOUND TRACK

WELL BOXCAR WAS A MUSIC MAN
PLAYING HIS GUITAR WHEN HE CAN
STRUMMING OUT A HEARTFELT TUNE 
NEVER STOPPING NONE TO SOON

BOXCAR WAS ALSO A LADIES MAN
HAD THEM SPREAD ALL OVER THE LAND
THEY LOVED TO HEAR HIM SING HIS TUNE
THE RASPY VOICE WOULD MAKE THEM SWOON

THEY’D DRESS HIM UP AND FEED HIM WELL
A HOMELESS MAN YOU’D NEVER TELL
A DAY OR TWO HE’D SING HIS SONG
WHEN RESTLESS CAME HE’D THEN BE GONE

HEADED DOWN THAT SOUTHBOUND TRACK 
HEARING THE BEAT OF THE CLITITY CLACK
DREAMING UP ANOTHER SONG
OF LOVE GONE RIGHT AND THEN GONE WRONG

I MET BOXCAR WAY DOWN IN MACON
LOOKING SAD AND ALL FORSAKEN
I ASKED HIM WHAT THE PROBLEM WAS
WHY THE TEARS, WHAT WAS THE CAUSE?

BOXCAR TOLD ME IT WAS LOVE
A GODDESS BORN FROM UP ABOVE
A GIRL SO SWEET AND SLIGHTLY SILLY
WHOSE MOTHER CALLED HER LITTLE MILLIE

BUT MOMMA TOLD HER HE WAS WRONG.
HE DIDN’T SING THE PROPER SONG
NO JOB HAD HE OR DOLLAR BILLS
TO KEEP HER WARM FROM WINTER CHILLS

SO BOXCAR’S ON A WESTBOUND TRACK
TO HEAR THE BEAT OF THE CLITITY CLACK
A BEER OR TWO HE WASHES DOWN
AND THEN THERE CAME THAT SIMPLE FROWN

AND AFTER SEVERAL HUNDRED MILES
THE FROWN TURNED INTO HAPPY SMILES
AND SONGS HE WROTE IN PASSING TIME
OF LOVE THAT HAD NO ENDING RHYME

HE ENDED UP IN KANSAS CITY
LIVING WITH A GIRL SO PRETTY
DANCING IN A SATIN GOWN
SHE LOVED IT WHEN HE CAME TO TOWN

HE NAMED HER IN A SPECIAL TUNE
HE WROTE FOR HER THAT NIGHT IN JUNE
HE TOLD HER THAT HE’D SOON BE BACK
AND THEN HE LEFT FOR THE ENDLESS TRACK


AND NOW YOU KNOW OF BOXCAR JACK
WHO LOVED THE SOUND OF THE CLITITY CLACK
WHO LOVED THE GIRLS AND LIKED TO CROON
ON A TRAIN SOMEWHERE BELOW THE MOON
© Tom Fleece  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: macon, journey, travel,
Form: Rhyme
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