Best Nice One Poems
Our Little Group
by Bob (Robert) Moore © 2016
I love to read the poetry,
the verse, the rhyme, the symmetry
it’s there for all the world to see,
I love to read the poetry
We started up a group you know,
so we could let these words just flow
back and forwards, to and fro,
we started up a group you know
We encourage each other to try and write,
words that rhyme, and some that might
which come to us by day or night,
we encourage each other to try and write
There’s John and Pam and Williams keen,
Dennis, Mary, Louisa, Irene
Sheila, Keven and Rik have been,
to tell verse of things they’ve done and seen
With Gareth, John Holmes, William posts for him,
Pauline, Angie, and Bob are in
the group we started as a bit of fun,
but we all enjoy what we have done
Many other cheer us on,
“nice one Bill”, “I enjoyed that John”
“I remember”, and “we used to do that,
we see it in rhyme, and it brings it all back
If I’ve forgotten anyone who’s posted,
I really hope, I don’t get roasted
and to all those who, have cheered us on,
we’re glad you enjoyed our bit of fun.
You start out green and new, as a brand new shoot, nurtured by a ‘Loving Mother Tree,’ and surrounded by lush, growing sibling leaves all
In relative, naive Harmony.
You mature and grow into The Most Beautiful Version of Yourself, peaking a little too early, given the length of your life cycle.
After you’ve served Your Purpose (you were never told what it was), your kindly mother turns on you;
Once she nurtured you, watered you, and warmed you by sunlight.
You were whole and thriving and complete.
Now, She cuts off these vital nutrients.
All of a sudden, you’re given no light, no food, no water.
And no answers about WHY.
Your sibling leaves are going through a similar situation,
So they are of very little use to you.
Frankly, they’re every bit as confused as you.
You slowly starve and dry up until you’re officially “desiccated.”
Then, the Mother Tree drops you.
The winds of change blow you onto a completely random path, forcing you to intermingle with leaves you don’t even know,
Making one last splash as “fall foliage,”
Which you don’t even enjoy because you look so differently than you did in your prime , you barely recognize yourself anymore.
The next thing you know, you’re 5 miles down the road, in a Stranger’s yard (not even a nice one),
Being raked into giant piles and stuffed into suffocating black garbage bags,
Kicked to the curb to ferment a little while, and then
Carted off by some rather grubby-looking men to be burned and cremated.
By that point, you welcome it.
--Our Father God Makes US POETS- A Dedicated Verse to Caren Krutsinger--
Lord the colors of your world" indeed makes me a poet's heart sings with delight."
Solemn is your righteousness Hallelujah Awesome rights;
Caressing the freedoms of expressions
As well as those freedoms of friendships
Father God I thank you for all those
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
"Wow! You’re My God, My God even love the way create. Oh, wow. I had not thought of this in a long time, you resonate;
But Father it is so right! Nice one my friend; God-inspired." Creator of the universe and oceans;
Caressing the freedoms of expressions
As well as those freedoms of friendships
Father God I thank you for all those
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
"Beautiful tribute to this your works, you God created all this;
Unimaginable bliss;
Lord, you paint the heavens in varies colors"
You Father- appeal to my artistic heart and my God-ly side and love of nature."
So if I’m worthy, would you Father be my enabler;
Caressing the freedoms of expressions
As well as those freedoms of friendships
Father God I thank you for all those
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
Alas poetess cultivar,
Gracious grand poet gunslinger,
Such a humdinger Never are you a, mudskipper, or punisher,
But I suggest you are grand poetess Caren Krutsinger
Our Father God Makes Us POETS
3/15/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Dedicated verse to Poetess ~ CAREN KRUTSINGER~
>We need a space filler Dragon, any ideas?
If I were a Pokemon
If I were a Pokemon.
I would not be very happy.
With all you silly blighters.
Trying to entrap me.
If I were a real pokemon.
Trap me you would not.
As I’d do the same to you.
In real life, trap me, you would not.
Nice one Dragon, very space filling indeed. lol
A short Christmas Story.
The fog was thick one Christmas day. You could not see a hand held in front of your face. Children were crying in case Santa would not be able to find their homes let alone the chimneys if the house had them. Meanwhile in Toyland all the Elves were roped together. One end of the rope was tethered to the toy factory and the other to the dormitory where they slept and had their supper before going to bed. Suddenly a bright red light penetrated the thick fog, Rudolf had appeared and all the elves knew Santa would be able to find the homes of all the little boys and girls who had been good little boys and girls and deliver their presents safely. And you know that’s just what they did and everyone had a very merry Christmas. The end.
Another Christmas tale.
The turkey was worried at Christmas
As were the ducks upon the pond.
The chickens were keeping quiet.
And the rabbits shivered, not from the cold.
Why? Well it was Christmas.
When the farmer's family needed to all be fed.
And all of the farm animals, wondered who would lose their head.
Then when Christmas day did break.
All the farm animals were indeed glad.
Why? the question is a fair one.
All the farmer's family were vegetarian.
And all the animals on the farm, were indeed blinking glad.
As that was one of the best Christmas times, all of them had ever had.
Merry Christmas again everyone lol Merry Christmas. <
Day one at a new school.
In a new place
And a new life
Where I know nobody
And nobody knows me.
I can be whoever I want to be
Silent Shadow
or Shining Star
Mean Girl
or Nice One
Just Plain Ugly
or Stunningly beautiful
Super Smart
or Complete Moron.
It all depends
On whom I am
Day one at a new school.
6/26/13
Entrepreneur Spirit,
I learn the game I learn smile I learn the pace most reward is passion,
Late hours early morning please of a tone a glory of a home,
Just to know what is your is your gratitude like cloud to a moon,
Words and gentles take aim like fat back to pan where all home,
Those days of stress that conflict like a comb to a threat,
Keep moving it through Keep moving to good news,
If subtle ageism and blatant ageism plague I have to keep one thing in,
Mind what is it I want out life,
I have to keep moving Entrepreneur Spirit,
It would be nice one day work for myself,
Entrepreneur Spirit.
day after day
he came here
his mournful tale to tell
upon an old torn suit
he was in the world
unlucky was the lot
so said he
old coal mourner
digging out
was his revered job
upon the treasury land
from dawn to dusk
digging for nice one
the revered old lord
so said father
upon enugu coal city
now that the tunnels
are deeper than abyss
o, from the death-traps!
thither he had fled
Johnny Thunders… Room 37.
John Anthony Genzale JR, a man that did the drugs and booze,
Not only born to live but ultimately born to lose.
Born in fifty two he loved the game of baseball,
But would never cut his hair that was his little league downfall….
That and his bad dad, but Johnny Volume would soon rule..
Along with the Jaywalkers at Quintano High School.
Then in sixty eight he would go to Fillmore East,
At a bar called "Nobody"'"s"on Bleeker Street
He would learn to drink his Bourbon ice so neat.
Then he was a sales clerk at the Da Nazz Leather Shop,
He would meet some future Dolls, then they were the "Actress"'"s."
But it was just a whistle stop..
Renamed Johnny Thunders after a comic book of the same name,
The New York Dolls were formed
His life would never be the same…
Two critically acclaimed Albums
"The New York Dolls" "Too much too soon"
But both commercially void,
Not enough to buy a Coke spoon..
In seventy five the Dolls broke up
Those trash glams all with attitude ,
Even bands today look back
With nothing but hard rock gratitude.
Johnny then formed The Heartbreakers ,released one brilliant LP
Los Angeles Mother F@kers
Know as L.A.M.F.
What an album I do decree…
Though I still love "So Alone"
A solo of such class..
He drifted here and there,
Then it was alas…
He lasted till nineteen ninety one,
His heroin a complete addiction..
But his death it was a mystery
There should have been a murder conviction!
Many rumours surround his death, I do suspect foul play.
St Peters House Hotel, New Orleans, such a great cliché.
Gangster dealers gave him LSD
Ripped off his Methadone supply..
Pretty sure they killed him,
Such a sad goodbye.
His room number was thirty seven,
It was ransacked of all his possessions,
What is known for certain,
Is there has never been no confessions..
"You can"t put your arms around a memory,
Don"t try don"t try..
You"'re just a bastard kid
And you got no name
Cause you"re living with me
We"re one and the same."
Nice one Johnny..
Sadly missed.
I burst through my kitchen door knocking down my mother in the process and said "outta the way loser".
I went down to my gamer cave to reign my epicness on these poor little noobs at my feet begging for mercy, but it's them I shall beat.
But my noob powning session came to a swift end, because I heard a pound above my head.
When my daddy gets home smelling like big boy juice, he always plays a game of tag where mommy is the runner and his fist is it.
I realized this wasn't a boss I couldnt beat at my current level, so I got an upgrade.
I grabbed my trusty fork and shoved it into the nearest socket at full force, the exp was to much so my brain went numb and I blacked out.
After I regened some health I woke up with red Mana dripping from my nose. I knew I was ready to take on the final boss now.
I limped up the stairs but that was only because my body was readjusting to the powers.
when I got up the stairs I said to my dad "game over" but before I could even finish speaking my dad uppertagged me so hard my head hit the ceiling.
As my jaw hung loosely from my face my dad looked down to me and said playfully "your it"
I gave my dad a light little tag on the shoulder, and in response he tagged my arm so hard I could hear a silly little crack that made my arm go numb.
My dad then climbbed onto the couch and started throwing pillows at me, all the while singing "you can't catch me" "you can't catch me"
My dad jumped off the couch and tagged me so hard I went flying out the window, then my silly little fence tagged me right through the chest
My dad walked up to where I was lying on the ground in a pool of manna and said to me "you and your mom are noobs" "bet you wish you had a health potion".
As I was fading in and out of consciousness my dad was dangling a health kit right above my head, and all I could say was "nice one dad".
>Why I don’t I play tennis.
Tennis, want to know why don’t I play?
Because I cannot hit those balls back.
Those that fly fast down my way.
I mean a tiny sphere like that.
Travelling faster than my car at that!
How can I expect to hit, a tennis ball as fast as that?
When we played tennis long ago!
On the vicar’s lawn, it was just so.
The service was so nice and slow.
Then when the ball was hit back.
That’s when the game started at that.
Back and forth those balls went.
Until at last one went out, or in the net.
Game would last quite a while.
We would talk, even smile.
And the best bit at the end of play.
Was vicar’s wife, coming out with a tray.
Of cold orange squash, you know.
And that’s how tennis ought to go.
It was on my local radio this morning. The question why people were dropping out from playing tennis. Well I could tell them. There is no room at the top with all those speed servers. Its no longer a game just a I can hit the ball at breakneck speed. I am off soon fund raising for Help for Heroes so the day is all yours. Have a nice one. (The mad Author)
from birth you’re taught to fight and kill
to always get your prey.
you track and stalk, but be still
lest she get away.
and though you check the wind for scent,
oh, you must be clever.
for still you stop to shade your eyes,
because nothing fights forever.
so rest, tiger, hurt with me
and let me stroke your fur.
for just as sure as you can growl,
i know that you can purr.
and yes, you’re strong! and yes you’re proud!
and yes, you leave me speechless!
but know this, my fierce, fierce friend,
like me you have a weakness.
your teeth are sharp, your claws more so,
you’re bred to rise above.
but what i chase is sharper still,
and nothing hurts like love.
so rest, tiger, hurt with me,
and let me stroke your fur.
for just as sure as you can growl,
i know that you can purr.
i wont ask much, i promise you.
who cares how this will end.
for here, and now, i’m hurt more
by those i called my friends.
so share your shade, and share your seat
with this foolish stranger.
i’ll play nice, one more time,
though i know the danger.
so rest, tiger, hurt with me,
lets watch the sun just swell.
and you can growl, or you can purr.
but i will talk of hell.
You steal my clothes
and call me names
you have your fun
and play your games
Your nice one minute
and then turn mean
you only believe in
what you have seen
You think I hate you
but that's not right
you don't know what I'd do
day or night
If you needed me
I'd be right there
I'd come and help you
no matter where
When I see you cry
I think I'd cry too
I can't stand to see
harm come to you
You are my sister
till the end of days
and I'll be there for you
forever and for always
Walking through the pedestrian of crowd
You were shackled by your own cloud
You went to a surprise party which never held for you
You are the list beyond the overview
You are not a harm person, not the nice one either
You are just one creature who deserve to live better
All that you want just one love
But still you forsaken by none love
Sometimes questions were left you in wonder
Where were those people who ever hold the past fever
People who used to be your wing man, but now acted like a new comer
Clustered in innocent mind, but well.. That's not a new bummer
You walked searching for a trace line
Head's down unsteadily lost your own shine
You see people, while people may not see you
You become a vague as wind which never be seen but blew
If my life was a little more sunshine,
Will people love to stay with me,
If I was a good person or a nice one,
Will my friends never betray me?
If money flows like a river in my pockets,
Will someone care for me?
If I had a thousand lists of buckets,
Will true friends cherish with me;
Oh! what a fortunate life ahead.
My hands writing down some sad stories,
No one will ever want to read,
Why am I walking around with many faces,
Life was once a happy ending for me;
Have I ever deserved to be wrong?
I walk around so much wasting time,
Blaming all the innocent with a song,
Why do I make myself a loser?
I was abusing myself not for working out,
Can my arrested sins ask for a lawyer,
What will my mind though about,
I'm just a hopeless person,
Begging and begging for love,
That a daughter will never have like a son,
I want to fly away like a dove.
All I see is the light in me
Shining bright from the ones I lost
And left behind, but I'll be alright
What does not kill me
Makes me tougher than tough!
Love is an illusion
A nice one but still
An illusion!
Chasing love is like
Chasing the wind
Disappointing
And vain!