Best Ninety Two Poems


The Box

I keep a box of memories
it’s safely tucked away
but now and then and then again 
I bring it out to play

a marble here a matchbook there
and pictures one or two
of things I’ve done and wars I’ve won
and yes there's one of you

my father’s broken pocket watch
my mother’s broken dreams 
my sons first tooth, a letter home
and empty space it seems

oh yes sweetheart I see them now 
the feathers gold and blue
I marked them with the day and date 
of nineteen ninety two

and here's the twigs I kept for you 
from your father's nest
and tufts of down to comfort you 
from your mother's breast

and yes sweetheart I understand
I dearly love you too
and if I could I’d spread my wings
and fly away with you
© Mike Bross  Create an image from this poem.

Lamp of Genie

I'm a girl Of Hundred Wishes,
Will you grant me all these wishes?
May all my dreams come true,
Aladdin.I'm glad,I have 
a share Of Your Lamp too.

I'm a girl Of Hundred Wishes,
Sweep my floor and Wash my dishes!,
Bake my cakes, in the oven too.
Go to Work,Back Home ironing,
Doing Laundry,Cooking Stew,
Is that much to ask Of You?
 Dear Genie,Much more chores to do.

I'm a girl Of Hundred Wishes,
Roby Williams singing for me,
Enrique Inglesias, is Here too,
Richard Gere and George Clooney,
Minnie's land and Looney tooney,
all around me in a circle,Lamp Of Genie,
Full Of Dreams come true.


I'm a girl of Hundred wishes,
Chocolate Ripple ,so delicious,
Whilst I fall in love,'Amour',
Flowers scenting sweet Odour.
There am i,floating so high,
with the faries in the sky,
I am smiling,No more cry.

I'm a girl of Hundred Wishes,
Clouds are sleeping,Moon is peeping,
Saying 'I Love You',Angels singing
Playing Harps and Violins too.
Stars are  dancing,Stars are twinkling,
amongst them,there is You.

Rays Of Light Shining so bright,
Its the Greatest Night,Of Nights,
Wishes Granted,Im enchanted,
Dear Genie,thanks to you.
My Sweet Genie,Handsome Genie,
I will love You ,till I'm Ninety two,
I am leaving On a  Rainbow,
I shall remember You.


                                                                    Charma

Premium Member The Christmas Song-Of Woe-

Who's that knocking on our door tonight?
Debt collectors, (those pests that we've ignored)
Yuletide woes being sung by my spouse
as we pull shades, and douse the lights!

Everyone knows a turkey and some mistletoe
could help to make the season bright
But we'll be eating pork and beans,   'cause our pocketbooks are lean
Oh!   We're out of Tums!!......The house could blow tonight !!!

They say that Santa's on his way
But our petty cash won't jingle much today
So this mother hen is going to cry
Because her hungry chicks won't have an egg to fry!

And so, I'm offering this simple phrase....
To folks from one to ninety two
If the recession....is behind your depression...
Merry Christmas ..  You're not alone!


..........................................................................................................
(Lyrics written to the tune "The Christmas Song"  Written by Mel Torme)
___________________________________


Ode To Mrs Miller

I did not know how brave 
she was, ninety-two, 
and I, seventy less...
so young that old age 
was textbook stuff: 
a fact of life, but not mine.

I was alive and free 
to stride the world, 
a colossus of youth--
whereas she had ate 
almost a century: 
and all her friends
and all her family 
lay dead somewhere, 
except in her mind,
still crisp, poignant 
in its memories... 
of a wealthy husband,
a daughter dead young,
her own youth and her
beauty remaining lonely 
in a silver-framed photo.

She never complained, 
this old lady--never once 
did I hear lamentations, 
a bewailing for the lost 
richness of life: 
that ripe fullness 
she must have once felt 
as a wife, a mother, 
a woman of grace and beauty, 
a living queen in her time.

Now she lived alone in a cold 
basement flat, standing barely 
five feet tall--yet I've never known 
any being braver. But it is only now,
when I am become old myself, 
that I envy such courage.


[rec'd n/a in Brian Strand's #2 contest, judged 6/29/20]

Premium Member Ain'T An Ornery Yahoo - Colloquialisms

Ain't  An Ornery Yahoo
 
Old widow lady of ninety-two
Lives by herself with nothing else to do
Except sit in her chair next to the window 
And stare out for hours with dreams of her past woe

I reckon she ain't ornery yahoo
With a few bricks short of a load
 Doing nothing but fuss and talk for ever and tells tall tales
Ain't no telling of those tall tales are true

Whaddya think?

She sits in her chair next to the window
 And stares out for hours with dreams of her past woe
Seasons have come and gone with the flowers,
 Grass and trees changing colors

She's ran off all her children, family, and friends
 Doing nothing but fuss and talk for ever and tells tall tales

With a ruckus if you don't agree and resist
She gets riled up lifts up her clenched dukes and
 Lands an uppercut to the mug she’s kissed

Whaddya think?

Y’all want to stay out of her crosshairs if ya can’t resist
Cause y’all open a can of worms if you persist
 She carries a small pearl handle chrome plated
 Stup nose 22 pistol in her purse


© 7/22/2015


Contest Name: Colloquialisms
 Sponsor: Laura Leiser
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Knowing and Believing

I believe
Because I don’t know

I know the sun rises in the east and sets in the west
I know spring follows summer
Summer follows autumn 
Then winter

But do I know God exists?
No, I don’t
That's why I believe

Why do you believe?

Because it gives me hope
It gives me strength
To march on with my life


My mother believed

She lost first three babies
Even before they could walk and talk

During WWII
She lost her son when he was 15
He volunteered to join Japanese army
To save his father from prison
After the war he came home injured
And died a year later

After liberation from Japan
His oldest son was labelled a communist
In the democratic south
Police harrased her 
Day and night
'Where is your son hiding?'
'I don't know, Sir'
Was her only reply

During the Korean War
She saw her husband walking away
Between two soldiers
Never to return

All through her married years
She was harassed by Japanese police
Harassed by North Korean soldiers
Harassed by South Korean police

But she marched on
With her head straight
Her heart in compassion

She prayed without ceasing
Asking God for strength
To march on with her travails

She lived to ninety two long years
And left this world 
With smile on her face


Deafness Is Serious

Old Clarry was deaf; yes deaf as a post,
and couldn't hear a word that was said.
But he'd sit alone while we conversed,
when we gathered in young Harry's shed.

I suppose old age gets us all in the end,
but Clarry's still here and he's ninety two.
He doesn't need glasses and his heart is okay;
it's just this deafness that has come through.   

Then one day at our get-together,
Clarry with a grin had something to tell,
he said the doctors had found him a cure,
and now he can hear us as clear as a bell.

I said to Clarry "That's just amazing;
they've reversed your ears on the wane.
Your family must be over the moon,
to know you can hear them again". 

Old Clarry grinned "I ain't told the family,
I don't think their hearts could stand the strain.
I just sit in me chair and hear what they say.
I've changed me will twice and intend to again”.

Premium Member Six Relatives

Every Sunday after church
Old great-aunt Dora
Full bloodied Cherokee,
In her finest dress and fedora,
Drove her pink Cadillac
To the San Joaquin River.
She would stop in the same place
And sat on an old stump,
Under a camphor tree,
By the riverbank,
And would cast her fishing pool,
Drinking her moonshine liquor.

Old widow lady of ninety-two;
My dear mother-in-law
Lives by herself 
With nothing else to do.
She sits in her chair 
Next to the window
And stare out for hours
With dreams of her past.
She carries a small chrome plated,
Stud nose 22, pistol 
With white pearl grips
In her purse.
Don't get in her way,
At the grocery store,
She will ram her cart
Into yours and say,
"Sorry I didn't see you."

Then there’s my sister.
“She’s crazy as a Loon; 
Howls at the moon,”
My husband would say.
Her long-distance relationships 
All in her mind. 
Her husband 
Doesn’t seem to mind,
But watches over her shoulder
When she cooks,
To make sure 
Everything she uses 
Is clean before he eats.
Their two daughters 
Walked the same path.
Live in a world 
Of hallucinations 
And delusions,
In denial 
Of their illness 
Of schizophrenia.

11/19/2020


Six Relatives Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member FOREVERMORE - POTD

His heart overflowed with tears
As he watched her sleep
She was so frail and thin now
His inner being weeped

Together and in love since teenagers
She was ninety now….he ninety two
She was dying and the end was near
They knew what they wanted to do

She opened her eyes
Met his eyes and smiled
“Cup of tea my sweet ?” he asked
“It won’t be a while”

They sipped their tea slowly
Then lay down together in their bed
He cradled her in his arms
Kissed her gently on her forehead

She whispered “ l love you and will forevermore”
He softly echoed the same words 
They kissed tenderly on the  lips
Smiling they closed their eyes….not another word was heard!

They were both gone ……
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member They Are Paying Me Way Too Much Money

I did not hesitate for one second.
I am an elementary school counselor.
I get to play with children.


They uplift me, and delight me.
I do my best to stop their tears and get them back to class.
I successfully eliminated twenty-eight jobs before I became a school counselor.
I was forty-four when I received my diploma.
So forty-four when I had my first counseling job.
I loved it, and I love this one.
I love counseling.
I love the kids.
I love teaching character education classes.

Retirement?
Not for this seventy-one year old.
I will go out at ninety-two in a body bag.
I ask only one thing.
Do not tell the children I am dead.
Just slip my body into the bag and leave me in a locked room
Until after school.
Then slip me away quietly.
There will be no funeral.
I don’t want any of them to have any more tears.
Some have had way too many already.

Premium Member Watermelon

Whopping big or small sized -
With inside red flesh of
Wonderful sweetness, this
Weighty fruit’s percent of
Water is ninety-two!
Wow! That’s great hydration.
Wish I had some right now.

May 10, 2021
For Kim Merryman's Pleiades W Poetry Contest

Smoke Free - Part Iii

I've been smoke free for three months, that's a quarter of a year.
I quit because of health concerns, I quit before things became severe.
I've been quit for ninety-two days which is 2,208 hours.
All I needed was seven nicotine patches and some will power.
I have something to say to smokers that is true.
I quit smoking and if I can quit, so can you.

Premium Member Enjoy Yourself

You work and work for years and years. You're always on the go. 
You never take a minute off, you're too busy makin' dough. 
Some day, you say, you'll have your fun when you're a millionaire. 
Imagine all the fun you'll have in your old rockin' chair,
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink. 
The years go by as quickly as you wink,
so enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Your heart of hearts, your dream of dreams your ravishing brunette 
has left you now and she's become somebody else's pet. 
Lay down that gun, don't try my friend to reach the great beyond. 
You'll have more fun by reaching for a red-head or a blonde, 
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink. 
The years go by as quickly as you wink.
Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
You love somebody very much, you'd like to set the date, 
but money doesn't grow on trees so you decide to wait. 
You're so afraid that you will bite off more than you can chew. 
Don't be afraid, you won't have teeth when you reach ninety two, 
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think. 
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink 
The years go by as quickly as you wink, 
so enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
You never visit nightclubs so you never get a dance.
You don't have time for silly things like moonlight and romance.
You only think of dollar bills tied neatly in a stack,
but when you kiss a dollar bill it doesn't kiss you back,
so enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink.
The years go by as quickly as you wink,
so enjoy, enjoy, enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
Enjoy! Enjoy! Enjoy Yourself! It's later than you think.
*
http://youtu.be/JYpOb-PQyNg

Premium Member Nit Picks and Picnics

~~Upon the banks of big piney slough,
   I recall a picnic with old blue,
   and my granddaughter at age two.
   and many blood sucking critters too.

~For a very short while we did picnic,
   then we would bait our hooks and pick ticks. 
   while the ants carried our food off in nit picks.
   Gets no better than this, can’t beat it with sticks!

~Mosquitoes demanded their rightful share,
   for of the blood of we humans they are an heir.
   Some dudes have no flair for this type of affair,
   after a day or two they would need repair.

~Moms who let babies grow up to be rednecks,
   raise children who can fish and pick blood ticks,
   and kill big water moccasins with little sticks,
   while picking polk salet for supper on picnics.

~Having caught a big flathead cat or two,
   I called granddaughter Sue and my dog blue,
   for I remember quit clearly when Sue was new,
   was the dog days of summer, ninety two! 

   For and in Honor of: Carol Brown
   And Contest: Picnic

Let the Games Begin

B.C., seven hundred seventy-six
was the date of the first Olympic picks.
They held (these sportsmanship pioneers)
Olympiads ev'ry four years

The first Olympic race was for sprinters -
Corubus, a chef, was named the winner.
Running one hundred ninety-two meters
he took the lead without any sneakers.

There were no medals; first place got a wreath
worn on his head, twisted from olive leaf.
Second and third place got only glory -
plus bragging rights in telling their story.

Men competed in the nude at the start;
women were invited "not" to take part.
These games were stopped by Roman signature:
“Way too pagan,” declared the emperor.

Make no mistake; it’s not a mystery
exclusive to Athens’ sports history.
What we still call the “modern” Olympics -
were revived back in eighteen ninety-six.

Nineteen-o-four, here in my own country,
my grandmother traveled to St. Louis.
The Games were held as part of the World’s Fair;
Granny Emma and three sisters worked there.

written August 13, 2016
for Janis Thompson's Olympic Mania contest

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