Best Man Of Few Words Poems
dancing clumsily -
shy blue cowboy eyes smiling. . . .
he swept me away
marriage fast foreknown -
no proposal from his lips. . . .
just lots of kisses
my man of few words
tells me, “I’ll always love you”. . . .
few words are true words
For the The Story of Valentine Poetry Contest
of Olajide Adelana
Third day on her honeymoon
Sharon asks Butch what it's like
for a man before he gets married.
A bricklayer by trade,
and a man of few words,
Butch doesn’t know what to say
but he knows Sharon has always
liked to go bowling; in fact,
that’s how this odd couple met.
So he tries an analogy although
he doesn’t know it’s an analogy.
From age 12 on, Butch tells her, he
always felt like he had a bowling ball
in his pants; that was a problem.
He couldn’t find pants to fit.
When he became a man he joined
bowling leagues, three or four, and
went bowling as often as he could.
Then Butch tells Sharon he met her
and knew he had to quit bowling
having found a lane of his own.
Donal Mahoney
A man of few words, my father taught by example.
The best thing he showed me
was to set my standards high
and to be my own judge -
always modest never defiant or arrogant.
If something needed doing
I should do it without expecting praise -
self-satisfaction being the ultimate goal.
He taught me to set my sights high
and to be my own boss
no matter the circumstances –
to be fiercely independent
not count on anyone.
I learned to go about my business and be self-sufficient.
I did not do well in teams – like a bull in a china shop
I had my objectives and went at them as a loner.
I never saw it exactly that way
but I did get good at it to a fault.
One day, it was a rude awakening when
it dawned on me how I was doing things for people
and they were consistently ungrateful.
I knew the problem couldn’t completely be with them
My so-called modesty had become self-fulfilling servitude.
It finally registered that if people didn’t have to ask,
they didn’t have to say ‘thanks’.
And that never mattered to me until
I realized that they were in fact not thankful
And THAT was a whole different ball game.
I literally spent days if not weeks
stubbornly trying to unlearn and reprogram myself.
Tried to get it through my skull that
if people ASK for something,
or at least ADMIT they would appreciate something,
that’s when they might actually appreciate it
How cheap can people be -
what a warped world we live in.
For me, it was a hard lesson in human nature -
I was actually an enabler encouraging people
to take me for granted.
People really do like games
even the ones who say they hate them.
Admittedly it was late in life I learned this lesson
And I admit I often still choose to do things
without getting people to actually ask.
But at least I’m cognizant of my ways.
And admittedly when I do pause
and play the ‘asking’ game, it does pay off.
But I’m so unbelievably stubborn I don’t always
want to pay the price for their gratitude
so to this day, if I feel something needs to be done
I’ll just get it done.
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on April 25, 2018
I am my father’s daughter —
quiet when it matters,
loud when it doesn’t,
loyal like a bruise that never fades.
He was a man of few words
and too many beers,
a homebody with calloused hands
who built his love from paychecks, plywood,
and patched fences.
He didn’t say much,
but he never let us go without.
We all worked with him —
held tools before toys,
learned to measure twice, cut once,
and use what we had
to make what we needed.
He handed me a hammer
like it was a promise.
Taught me how to build things
that wouldn’t fall apart.
And somehow,
that became a kind of love too.
He taught me the stillness of fishing —
how to listen for the pull,
how to wait without wanting too much.
He showed me rivers
the way some fathers show their daughters cathedrals.
And when I stand near water now,
he’s the first name that echoes back.
His anger could shake the walls,
but his lessons still hold:
Don’t waste. Don’t lie.
Always bait your own hook.
I used to sit
in the passenger seat of his silence,
learning how love doesn’t always speak,
but shows up every morning
with boots on
and something heavy in its hands.
(woman)"Just cause I didn't smile at you
Just cause I didn't wave
I'll not wear feelings on my sleeve
That's no way to behave.
But it could be, that I like you
Maybe like you quite a lot
You won't know because you've given up
My heart is tied in knots.
I'll tell you what you need to do
Come over to my house
Knock on the door, 'no violins'
You're a fiddler, not a Strauss.
And if I do not answer
It's because I'm mad at you
You've made me lose my temper
Something I swore not to do.
Now listen up, tomorrow
Come back and try again
Knock, cordially, about three times
But I won't let you in.
That's when you firmly clear your throat
And in your sternest voice
Demand I open up the door
Don't give me any choice.
I'm feeling pretty flustered now
Still we've got to iron this out
Okay, now where did I leave off?"
(man)' I guess I'm in the house.'
"Oh yes, that's right, I've let you in
Don't act surprised to see
My hair is done, my face made up
The hem above my knee.
Pretend there's nothing baking
Though the smell does captivate
Fresh rolls; a well dressed fatted duck
And cause it's getting late
You may as well attempt
To hold my hand, but no
Those puckered lips you'll tuck right in
Or out the house you'll go.
Some other would be wooers
I've kicked right out the door
T'was one or two, no there were three
Pray don't be number four.
I've planned this well and all is set
We've made it up the hill
Now ask the fated question 'Sir'
((man) ' Will you...'
"Of couse, I will."
RETA PRUITT
September 4, 2016
A moment in time, time to realize just who
I am & where I stood in life.
To look into the eyes of my mentor & watch him
as he cried.
Tears of Honor, Respect & Pride
My proudest moment in life, was
telling my Pops, I had joined the Army.
Letting him know I was ready to fight.
Standing there with a stupid look on my face,
I wasn't sure just what he'd say.
I thought he would be angry but he seemed
to be okay,
Blinking my way, past tears of my own.
Trying to show him, I was brave.
I said, "It's Time for me to leave place,
time to leave where I was, raised.
As he wiped away a tear running down his face,
he turned to me and said, "keep your head low & your spirit high
make sure you come home safe..
On the morning I left, he shook me in bed,
then said, "Don't forget what I told you
keep you head low & your spirit high
make sure you come home safe".
then he turned and walked away.
A pair of shoes that walked many tests
Skipping and hurdling the hardest
Shockproof to the condition around
Halt to prepare for what tomorrow's abound
A distinctive scent of sweat for a living
Upbringing of children is not failing
Many sails and flights brought them away
A love message to sustain each longing day
Hiding tears to withstand the test of time
Strong grip of every chance is sublime
Man of few words but a cherished action
Unload your worries, now at peace with God without distraction
In my most solitary moments
I will live to the image you represent
15 June 2013
THE SANDS OF TIME
We stop-- unquestioning the expertise of our Game ranger
focused--examining sand and road for tracks
Uncomprehending, we ponder waiting for clues he may disclose –the light of dawn
Finally- three words:”Do you see?”
A revelation for him
We try to discern—revealing imprints on a dusty road
Man of few words, he speaks again: “footprints...not animal...fresh, close and recent”
Bushmen behind a thicket of shrub
Authentic and unique-nomads in the Namib Desert
“A family... hunting” he enlightens us further
We sit warm in blankets and woollen scarves
They crouch, short in stature, hiding—naked and shy
Feeling uncomfortable, inappropriately wrong somehow..
Binoculars and camera’s enforce the contrast-awkwardly
Our arrogance, whilst they are natural –reticently
Our Ranger details informative dialogue—geographical lectures
Nomadic in their habitual housing, hunting skills faultless...
Every imprint in the sand tells its own story
Many not wanting their legends uncovered
Invasion – intrusive, identities discovered
We linger no longer—luxurious Game Lodge beckons
Enjoying a breakfast we had no need to hunt for
Copyright© April 2013—Kim van Breda
Quiet man of few words
Dreamer and free spirit
Curious and passionate
Tinkering and inventive
Creative and hardworking
Nothing came easy
Worked for everything he ever got
Lived life wholeheartedly
And mostly on his own terms
Dedicated father
Devoted husband
A full life but hardly long enough
To enjoy some last easy years
He loved to say
He were leading the good life
He earned everything he got
He planned a peaceful life
At one with the outdoors
Working the land
Reaping the fruits of labor
Aching muscles and content heart
Well earned smile
As each sun set
At the end of it all
Finally rewarded with
The peace he always wanted
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~A SIMPLE MAN~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2020
Submitted for MID-JANUARY 2018 STANDARD CONTEST sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - January 13, 2018
Hi, my name is Jerry
My close friend Lou passed away this week
He was a very avid and knowledgeable baseball guy
People were amazed when they talked baseball with Lou
He knew all about the players their stats, their strengths and weakness
He taught the fundamentals of the game when coaching all ages of kids
He had the a special talent that he could spot a kid with a special trait for baseball
Lou always had positive encouragement for his players
And you could see him give them a pat on the back for their performance
Lou saw one of his dreams come true that was a summer college league
He was a scout for Detroit Tigers and loved every minute of it
I scouting he would scope out the cream of the crop
He loved his family in his special was and was a man of few words
He helped his children to be the best
Big guy, you are now in your field of dreams
I have a request that you hit one over the moon for old Q-Ball
I will miss you and remember all the good times we had
When you lay your trust on people
There's never a guarantee of peace
In ur heart
When you Relay on the fact that you know them
You'll always be disappointed
Never try to discover their insight or love from their hearts
Where it is impossible to be found
Dangerous love
Is you forcing
Yourself in other people's heart
You just have to live your life
And let things happen out of your control
If you always want to be involved
In your life you are inviting opinions
Get them until
You run out choice
Then you start doing things with
Force
That is not exerted though
But you created it
When it acts
You will think it's conscientious.
But no live your life
To satisfy god and yourself
And stop being concerned
In your life you will see progress
It's wise to be quite
Even though to others it's natural
To be a man of few words
It allows wisdom and knowledge
To settle in your brain
Sometimes it takes motivation
To attain that
And sadness sometimes from disappointment
It's takes failure
Or tears sometimes to reach that level
Because sober so
It's difficult
To talk less than you know
If there's some one who inspires
You to be like that know
It's a chance
Grasp it
Find a reason to have it
Make it a habit
It will move you out of people and world
And introduce you to yourself
And make your life be your concern
You will stay away from disappointment
Plz don't only listen to enjoy the sound
Of words made by this poem
Pay attention to it's content
Suicide in most time's
It's because is love
It doesn't hv to be for someone
Love for something
Others kill themselves
For things
Others for deserted trust
It's true trust comes from
Love
Love comes from heart
If someone does something to trust
He or she Destroys life
Because that rough touch
Can shake your world
Causing thoughtsquake
You become scared
Until you don't think straight
In your life see end
Until death
Pulls u over
Better give your life to God
To be saved from that
Your trust lay it to God
If you want to love too much love him
What do you do? Fine - I'll mention other things,
In Jo"burg, the expats were bored - went to
a roundabout and drove around, disgraceful,
don't you play any sport? Not even couch-rugby?
I used to race go-karts, play tennis, chase
the girls, even in winter, oddly in autumn;
I'm a chess player, bunch of nerds, no wonder
sometimes I'm a man of few words, expletives.
And now - I travel, write homily on Koh Samui beach,
with vacant-eyed Nesbo just out of reach,
writing is a lonely job, like waiting to die,
you'll find out - no matter how far you may fly.
Nesbo had just committed another repetitive crime,
while I was still battling with endless rhyme.
Started off a beautiful night
all dressed up and off to dance
laughing talking drinking wine
wearing my favorite pink pants.
Im not sure when it hit me
but i suddenly felt alone
beautiful people everywhere
everyone in their zone.
i was yearning for conversation
or some sort of sense of home
nobody cared to talk for real
i felt the need to roam
with nowhere else to go
drunk to the point of falling
i became very introspective
my heart felt sad and calling.
usually my nights out with friends
ended in bliss
happy happy happy
everyone a kiss.
tough times had been brewing
my mind just could not breathe
dancing and drinking
Didn't do it for me so i leave.
Got home and tears were falling
feeling insecure and lost
looking in the mirror
i saw a girl with such exhaust.
looking at my phone
with no inhibitions
i dialed a friend
who understood my sad conditions.
i looked a mess and felt the same
yet didn't care that night
usually id make sure i was
done and up and feeling right.
I listened to my heart
and took a chance and called.
I thought he'd be working
but he answered and i bawled.
it was foggy after that
not sure exactly what i said.
but as quickly as I hung up
He was out front like my bed.
I stumbled out bottle in hand
Jumped into his truck
he looked at me didn't say a word
and then i felt some luck.
He helped me into his house
and put me in the shower
he stayed in there while I bathed
Feeling so empowered.
hair all wet makeup gone
I stepped out into his towel
he wrapped me in dried me off
but wasn't on the prowl.
He held me close and looked at me
Eye to Eye and said
"This is when your the most beautiful"
Then carried me to bed.
A man of few words
but when he spoke i listened.
And that night as he told me that
my whole body started to glisten.
That comment has stayed with me
like no other I've ever heard
Whenever I feel sad or down
I image the night it occurred.
You're a man of few words, that's what I know.
How about a conversation? Come on let's go.
Is there any chance to be friend?
I hope smile is not the end.
Whenever we've cross our eyes do meet.
You're the only one who gives me a cold feet!
Surely you know how to communicate?
Before it's time for me to abdicate.
The last move I'm going to put to action.
Is to secretly plan an abduction.
To start an interrogation.
Because you to me is a big question.
I'm tired of waiting for a sign
All throughout it is just a big sigh
All I want is a moment of interaction,
Just to fulfill my desperation.
I'm in love because of your smile.
It is also the reason why I'm about to cry.
What I'm offering is priceless,
Now, I'm loveless because of you voiceless.
Come out of the church
To the open air
With dancing
sunbeams about the streets
I told him to come, to come into sight
He yelled back to me, “I’m allergic to the light.”
I saw him swing on the bars
Like an agile young boy
His looks deceive him,
his age does not suit him
I said, “Come out, do not wait for the night.”
He said, “I can’t, I’m allergic to the light.”
Long knotted hair the length of his back
Dressed in wool sweater and baggy brown slacks
Covered in sand from a play in the park
I tried to clean him up but he stayed in the dark
The flash of a camera or the ray of electric
He curls up into a ball, with nothing but fear
So I said, “Face your fears, do not give into fright.”
One last time he insisted, “I’m allergic to the light.”