Best Nough Poems
I’ve wasted, full, my share of bliss
not near my quota - court or kiss …
but should I earn one passing wish
quite selfish, I would make it this -
let my last breath be ‘nough to fling
one butterfly - high ‘neath its wings
how sweetly would that flutter sing -
of me … of life … quite everything!
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, March 14, 2023
Muddy Water's Gramma gave us licorice
I walked the old Kenwood neighborhood with my twin little brother and sister in tow,
'hold there hands and look both ways before you cross the street'
No use trying to talk my way out, knew it was the only way mom would let me go.
October's new moon, peaked in and out of passing clouds,
leaving the night gloomy in stygian darkness.
Faces painted, carrying our paper bags, dressed in raggedy linen pillow case shrouds.
Low sad sound of a guitar's slow lick, pitch in open E, played a few doors down,
accompanied by a soulful song sung:
'Well, my mother told my father,
just before hmmm, I was born,
"I got a boy child's comin,
He's gonna be, he's gonna be a rollin stone,
Sure 'nough, he's a rollin stone..'
I knocked on the door, our shrilled chorus trio called out Trick or Treater's round,
Clutching a Bible in her hands 'to ward off evil spirits'.
Gramma Della turned on the porch-light, framed in screened doorway,
emitting a joyous whooping sort of laugh, invited the three of us in.
The bright-eyed man sat at the kitchen table, looking up from his guitar emblazoned in Formica reflected glory.
In the corner, a pretty girl, dressed as Cinderella, sat cross-legged on the floor..
with what looked like a million dollars worth of candy.
Muddy, who had ceased his song at our knock, nodded our way.
With curious smile that was both happy and sad, in smooth, measured voice said
'Oh don't you look a fright'.
Della handed out licorice that year, the same as all the years we once knew.
But what us kids remember best, and last, the man who sung & played the Catfish Blues.
What I didn't learn 'til later, a picture placed in Muddy's view of the living room.
Little Walter, with his harmonica cupped in hands,
who died just a year earlier, a day after Valentine's moon.
Inspired by McKinley Morganfield and his Grandmother Della Jones
You get a heck of a sound from the church. Can't you hear it in my voice? -Muddy Waters
this was inspired by a relly good friend her name is aleera her like other girls were raped by
a stupid man so i just want to post this to show you that i care for you aleera i hope he rots
in jail
W en your with a girl respect her
H e raped her and other women too
E nough is enough
No more
S he loved you and you took advantage of that
H e lost all of her trust she’s afraid now
E ven if you say sorry
S he will never forgive you
A ll of her family wants you to rot in jail
Y ou said she wanted it when she said no
S ee you are nothing but a looser your nothing
S he is now happy with out you
T o your info next time when she says no that mean stop
O n the next time you try to do that
P robably this time she wont be afraid and she will turn you in
E ver was there an amazing poet
L avishing us with your poetry
A nd
I ntriguing our minds
N ever will there be nearly
E nough of your poetry for me to read
G oing to all poetic places
E ver searching for more
O ver and over again
R ight on you are
G iving so freely of yourself
E very word coming straight from your heart
Thank you Lainie you are the main reason I am here today.
When I came here in 2006 you gave me the courage to keep writing.
Anyone who has not read any of Elaine George's poetry should check it out.
Written by: Carol Brown
Written on: 01/18/2012
Written for: Missing Souper, We Miss You !
Requested by: Cyndi MacMillan
1st Place Winner
The day was brilliant--Sol spreading diamonds in the sky--
When Kathleen and her father faced the slope,
He with trepidation, she with hope.
They scanned the rise and watched like country rubes
As sliders paused atop the run,
Then hurtled down on sleds and tubes,
Jinking, jerking, shouting, screaming;
It promised so much fun.
“Let’s go,” Dad said, and led the way uphill,
Both eager at the crest to test their skill.
One time, then two, they shot down icy trails
And raced like yachts with open-ocean sails.
And then it happened!
On Father’s third and final try
His sled upended—not down low, but high!
The lookers gasped, their mouths and eyes gaped wide.
Newtonian physics could not be denied,
So Daddy (in slow motion, thus it seemed
To Kathleen, like a nightmare being dreamed)
Oofed softly as he tumbled down the grade
And came to rest a jumble, limbs all splayed.
They left the field soon after, heads held high;
Drove home in silence ‘neath the dark’ning sky;
Ate supper, talked, and do what people do on wintry eves.
Much later in the night as Kathleen slept the sleep of youth,
Dad rose and hobbled to the tub.
And while he soaked he weighed a truth,
The nub:
At 48 it’s all downhill; ‘nough said;
Just don’t complete the journey on your head.
Written by Gail DeBole on July 1, 2014
Updated on July 4, 2014
Fred Sr. doesn't like most things that start with e-.
Thumbs down to e-banking, e-books, and e-asy.
He's known to hollar, “I hate all this e-stuff!”
E-learning, e-coupons, e-love, e-cetera…
"E-nough is E-nough!"
Fred Jr., an e-cop, catches e-crooks online.
Thumbs up to e-everything! He thinks it's all fine.
He's known to hollar, “ I love all this e-stuff!”
E-stings, e-crimes, e-heros, e-cetera…
"I can't get E-nough!"
Fred Jr.'s son, an e-doc, helps patients online.
He lives an e-idea coming into its prime.
He's known to hollar, “We need this e-stuff!”
E-medicine, e-nurses, e-labs, e-cetera…
"Who would say "E-nough is E-nough?"
Home sweet home, a phrase that warms my heart,
Once I reflect on what it means to me.
My home is like a magnet...draws me in.
Enough when I'm away; take me back home.
So full of comfort broken in with life
Well used and shaped where all fits like a glove.
Enhanced with family that comes and goes,
Endearing me with memories of great
Together times that transfer home to love.
Home sweet home, a phrase that fills my soul;
One piece of heaven filled with happiness.
My home, the only place for me to be.
Enough when I'm away; take me back home.
January 30, 2016
Contest: Acrostically I Stand Tall
Sponsor: James Edward Lee Sr.
L one(ly) days need not be gray
O ffer yourself time away
V isit the ocean blue
I ntrigue yourself with a sunset hue
N ature in her beauty can cure
G iving the soul a lavation, to make pure
T ake away the strain of stress filled days
H eavenly beach, spend time in sun's rays
E levate yourself to where Angels play
L augh, twirl and spin
A ct like a child again
U rgency is pretend
G rant yourself time with a friend
H ave more than one week a year
T o make your life happy to bear
E nough relaxation and rest
R epent your dying, tired being to zest
O ften we ignore the signs
F or when it is our time
L isten to your body, your brain and heart
I promise you will not regret this part
F or there I have been, many a time
E venings filled with loving the laughter of life - so fine.
Her features are not eloquent or of
Something to brag. Thighs, hips, arms, face, stomach—
Fat. Makeup and lipstick, can’t do the trick.
She’s homely from her toes to all above,
Because what she offers isn’t good ‘nough .
Unlike a feather, she floats like a brick.
And like a sloth, her wits are not as quick.
Yet beauty, brains, and all the carnal stuff,
Do no justice to her disposition—
Courage, fervor, a spiritual giant.
Carrying no regard for thoughts of those
Around her, their comments only expose
Their own unseemly, woeful condition.
Morale has won, and she is triumphant.
Hawaiian sunsets -
my freckled legs wade through it
whiffs of a beach-fire
take me back to childhood days
close 'nough to warm, but not scorch
For Andrea's TANKA me a COLOR contest.
05-12-13
An ol’ cowboy once told me,
“Son, keep yor’ Saddle straight—
cinched up tight ‘n squared away,
an’ don’t depend on fate.
For if yor’ a straight shooter,
yor’ life will be real tame.
A handshake will be good ‘nough
ta trust yor’ family name.”
Now, I went along believin’
the whole world thought like that,
but fifty years have come ‘n gone
with politicians gettin’ fat!
They get upon that barren stump,
an’ swear to make things right,
but what I know ‘bout them folks,
makes me lose sleep at night.
Empty promises an’ shoutin’
‘bout things they’re gonna CHANGE—
folks aren’t really thinkin’
how their life—they’ll rearrange.
It’s all about the poor folks,
minorities ‘n such—
money from the rich guy,
an’ taxes that ain’t much.
But when I get ta figurin’
what will happen later on,
like when factories an’ plants close,
an’ rich guys are all gone—
Who’s gonna pay the wages
to feed my kids and ma?
I ain’t forgot DEPRESSION times,
an’ anguish that I saw.
An’ derned if I can figure out
why some folks are on the DOLE—
Could it be a case a LAZY,
an’ a life without no goal?
If no one in DC’s lyin’,
an’ the old ways never was,
I guess I’d give ‘em latitude
in their promises an’ buzz.
But I been ‘round just long enough
to know what’s right ‘n wrong—
an’ I ain’t taken in so much,
nor followin’ the throng.
There’s one more thing I gotta say
‘bout EVIL in this world,
“Ya don’t kill a grizzly with sweet talk,
an’ screamin’ like a girl.”
Men fought an’ died to keep us safe,
an’ let our FREEDOM ring—
that there’s the tune I’m followin’—
the anthem that I'll sing!
Tamara Hillman
©2008
Winter can be a wonderland of beauty and cold
Ienjoy making the snow into an angel mold
North winds blow
The crows say, please no more snow
Every night another log on the fire
Ready for tea and to hear the singing choir
The sun running across the ice is a sight to behold
It looks like beautiful white gold
Maybe winter will not last
Enough of the wonderland it now will melt fast
Date Written: 12/10/2020
Acrostic Rhyme
https://www.rhymezone.com
Winter Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Happy birthday baby and my first born
Created by God for me to adorn
From the top of your head down to your tiny little toes
You were cute as a button as everyone knows
Seeing you all grown up, looking at what you've become
Is the sum total of many prayers and the blessings of some
You are wise for your years, this I can tell
By the decisions you make, you learn lessons well
You are tough and you're strong, please stay that way
You'll need this type of strength as your hope and stay
You are self motivated, self reliant and a self starter, too
You complete whatever you start when you do what you do
You are straight forward, mean exactly what you say
There is o confusion ever, you are clear that way
You are loving and kiknd, always giving your best
You can be depended on, relied upon, there's no test
Respectful and obedient you've always been
Loving you is a pleasure, a sure nough win
I love you dear daughter from the depts of my heart
Letting you know how I feel is just a start
I thank God for His precious gift 31 years ago
I'll cary you with me no matter where I go
angels are sprawled
in the longest reach my children could snow-afford on my former green lawn
over-played carols over-play the car ride to the store, where they will continue
an embarrassment of lights dangle ‘side a staple-holed roof trim
somewhere, not ‘nough off too far, there are
yards watching snowmen come and go
behind the windows that hold kitchens
the bills are a pilin’
the car’s in the driveway needing to be plugged in
the mailman’s griping ‘bout the weight of his sack
dropping off cards he’d gladly drag back
the t.v.’s got little relief
there’s a log burning on a 24 hour channel
that someone someday'll
commercial the crap out of
office parties
forum the drunk, “Here’s what I really think of you…”
spark the short lived, misappropriate romance
the mall cattle call. . . from parking lot to till
warrants wrappings to be hauled away
to some landfill
waiting for Valentine’s Day
I long learnt right I was. Naked nudges
In my candid heart proved to lack proofs ‘nough.
To show what my soul and ears couldn’t ignore,
Went I all lengths. A futile future it forged.
I was then forced the bitter lie to accept
Everyone but me wanted to see. The
Hero returns after long in the hunter’s nest.
Shouts and lights flashed at the entry of him.
He did frustrate my hold but I couldn’t
Help my doubts and turned stealth. At time’s nick, he
Veiled his true veil yet was I ‘head a step.
His plans failed while I gently others scales swept.
A hero they say he was, I villain I saw.
I am the scorned cure to this virus now born.
NAME OF CHARACTER: Claire Danes as Carrie Mathison
NAME OF MOVIE: Homeland by Alex Gansa, Howard Gordon….
This poem is written by Okunsebor Williams.