Best Old Adage Poems
Benedict was tired, he’d been driving all day.
This was his last delivery, 2 tonnes of eggs delivered to Safeway.
The kid came out of nowhere, stared Benedict in the face,
He tried to brake, then swerved, in the wrong place.
The scene was chaos, emergency services scramble into action,
Ambulance officer, Florentine put Benedict’s legs into traction,
loaded him in the ambulance and quickly whisked him from the site.
The bystanders hoped that Benedict would be all white!
Sergeant Skillet arrived on the scene, he was feeling a little queasy.
A witness came forward and told Skillet the truck went over easy.
Skillet gleefully took a statement, finally a case he could crack.
He poached a pen from Constable Quiche, wrote it down on his back.
The clean up took some time, it was a delicate operation.
The fire brigade, were walking on “eggshells”, had been since they left the station.
Scene commander, Dumpty, directed the crew from a nearby wall.
If things went wrong, he knew he’d be the one to take the fall.
A nearby, protest group, trying to shake loose the yoke of oppression,
were called over to help, clean the streets, for these young folk a good lesson.
It’s not all about being self, centred from the cradle to the casket.
And to remember the old adage, Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.
You call me insensitive,
But I don't believe that's true;
Because, you see,
It's all about me.
It's not about you.
You say your opinion doesn’t matter,
That I’ve no respect for your point of view;
But I do if we agree,
Because it’s all about me.
It’s not about you.
You say I’ve no compassion,
No feelings for your troubles or your blues;
But none of us is issue free,
And mine are all about me;
But…not about you.
A time old adage,
“To thine own self be true.”,
Is all about choices you see.
My choices are all about me,
And, certainly, not about you.
So, when its time to make your choices
You’ll understand and know it’s true;
To decide what will or will not be,
Won’t be at all about me;
It will be all about you
But special moments confront most of us,
When what matters isn’t “Me”.
And while these moments are few,
They’re not about me, not about you.
For a time, it’s all about “We.”
Yes, “…no man is an island.”
Is a valid point of view;
But if it’s not about “We”,
Then it’s all about me.
Sorry. It’s not about you.
The poet Marshall Mathers
whilst "Cleaning Out My Closet"
blasted with inquiry-
"Have you ever been hated on or discriminated against?
I have...''
Interesting enough
in these crooked times
it is impossible to make a man like you,
or your art,
especially with unbounding determination.
Nevertheless,
It sure is mighty easy to attain their hatred,
through no fault of your own.
When they protest or demonstrate against you...
finally you have arrived!
That's powerful!
Common sense says,
"Never drive in the rear view mirror!"
Though, it sure is helpful to take a quick glance back
periodically
to check out Jealousy,
back there
doubting and shouting and eating your dust!
Take a whiff...
Listen...
AHHHH....
The band begins to play ferociously!
Off-key.
Off-color.
Slander Slogans pasted upon your face.
Furthermore,
Suddenly,
Systematically...
like roaches with lights bright,
they disappear into the night,
back to the slums;
begging for crumbs.
Once you've been Blacklisted;
Swallow.
Digest the miracle.
Pure, glowing gold
the alchemy of their anger,
visibly discernable from the glossy pyrite
appearing with fake praise.
Heed the old adage:
---------------Keep yir' friends close, and enemies closer.
Their futile harm repels from the Teflon donning your heart.
Envy
burns bold, boils,
melts and cools, then cold,
forging the sword.
Adding to your arsenal.
Stumble not
upon bone fragments,
brittle blacklist bandits...
the Catacombs of those
who aimed to defame your name,
staking claim for their
shameless sea of debris
and Rotten Forgottens
which only bolster your begotten flame.
Remain steadfast, undaunted
TROUNCE THOSE TREACHEROUS TROUBLES;
________________________ TO ________________________
MARCH THROUGH THE RIGOROUS RUBBLE!
*Heads High,
Let me see those eloquent eyes!~JsL
~Inspired by written words of Marshall Mathers, Cleaning Out My Closet,
Shady Records~
Having been on my own
for the past ten years
I suppose I am set in my ways
If I’ve no planned routine
at the start of each day
I just come and I go as I may
Awaking each morn just before dawn
I can go where my mood may take me
Disliking routine I meander free
to come and to go as I please
For now there is no one here except me
with my very own idiosyncrasies
Generally I enjoy my own company
Though from time to time
seeing friends and family
is such an enjoyable treat for me
But to have someone
permanently under my roof
It would drive me insane
send my soul in a whirl
as slowly my mind
and my body unfurl
At this juncture in life
I want peace and tranquillity
No hassle
No stress
No irritability
So when I have guests
I pull out all my best
Spoiling them rotten
as we laugh and we jest
But as the days pass
and our moods start to show
It is time to bid farewell
It is time for them to go
Or frustrations
raise their ugly head
and we may say things
we should not have said
So as the old adage suggests
Familiarity can breed contempt
and living too long
with family and friends
is how a good relationship
may come to an end…
Written 14th September 2019
Contest Strand Select U
Sponsor Brian Strand
3rd Place
We are he who we seek
Millions of magnetised bliss bubbles burst
Concentrated along our central vein
Rapture beyond measure quenches heart’s thirst
Ignition renews again and again
We would, if we could, transfer this power
Pulsating joyously within our heart
Love drenched soul dances in a bliss shower
God transmutes form, as a work of His art
The trick, oh hermit, is tranquil stillness
By letting go of each ego spawned urge
Thought rested awareness, one with oneness
Celebrates within, thunderous bliss surge
Delusional is imagined bondage
‘Know we are who we seek’ ~ an old adage
14-May-2022
He told me I had lemon skin
my breath was tart upon my lips
I carried the weight of the world on my hips
My tongue I should learn to bridle
It's just like the sun in the afternoon
with the windows open to dispel the gloom
Lime green pain lights up my room
With a whisper, a king could frighten
This house has ways to betray your steps
sour though I be as I falter and trip
courtesy gone in my first two sips
I'm wondering about tomorrow.
You've heard the old adage of extra lemons:
"lemonade stands for your family and friends
Positivity lifts and the fun never ends"
(accept when you dare to dream).
Lime green walls match the glint in my cat's eyes
My sadness creeps in when my little girl cries
I'm tart with my righteously indignant replies
Don't thank me - Thank my mother...
How Thick Is Your Skin?
Written: by Tom Wright
3/31/2018
In today’s society it appears to be about skin,
Many whine when things don’t go their way.
Laying at fault, is that our skin is too thin,
We’re easily offended by what others do and say.
Whiners leap to the podium with much to say,
Spewing words which aren’t from their own;
Saying clueless things swaying others their way,
Too young to realize you reap what you’ve sown.
Taking everything personal young tempers boil,
They seek to destroy any with dissenting view.
The old adage “to the victors belong the spoil”,
Seems to aptly apply to a “disadvantaged” few;
They seldom view things as just another’s opinion,
And are quick to strike back thus creating a flap;
Over verbiage alone each is granted dominion,
We need to give thought before opening our trap.
Indeed old is gold
and so's I'm told
Don't be in a hurry
to have all antiques sold
For this old adage
Todate water it holds.
Indeed the good old days
had some good old ways.
So I'd rather not
exchange
old lamps for new
lest I suffer as in
Aladdin's tale
and lose everything of
value.
For if I lose my old lamps
I haven't a genie to
restore my loss
Thus beware of
modernism's shams
Don't let 'change' be
your boss.
We should know what
best be preserved
So olden values are
granted the respect they
deserved.
For some 'olds' are such
pure golds
that like gold they never
fade nor catch moulds
Likewise some golden
traditions are real
treasures
that can't be left behind
to the past generation
in exchange for surface
new pleasures
For that would be soil,
oops nooh, soul and
culture erosion
Pray keep some olden
golden customs from
such corrosion!
Ah the old mores
they might seem such
bores
but it's they who make
the best folklores!
Change for the better,
not for the worst
Always assess and
analyze any new thing
first.
(my religion has time-
tested valuable time-old
values too.)
gold is old
and old is gold.
As an old adage,
Education is the key to suceess;
But talent and skill ,put to good use__
Can make one sucessful.
EPITOME APOTHEOSIS
Glory Glory
Does she answer to us to bring peace in our world?
You know men are now participants of a new recreation.
Gay sex is prone more than smoking marijuana in the sixties (60s).
They call it getting to know themselves through the quality or state of being sexual.
They say the old adage is for human sexuality to overwhelm homosexuals.
This manifests the most through... pro-sports.
The athlete does not mind being... horsed.
Growing up down South crafted her life.
In that the broken tumbleweeds leave the meadow in midair tolerating the wind until tumbleweeds no longer are there,
A Mississippi child’s insight manifests.
Twisting the mind, they want a woman to observe them.
Facial expression is that this is the newfangled way to intensify your sex drive…
Watching me turn him out makes your womanhood come alive.
Why lessen your pleasure by denying what you feel inside?
The exodus to the North found a fool’s game.
The world became a male’s domain.
As heterosexual women desire heterosexual men, they found all were doing other things.
Insight manifests as epitome apotheosis.
A Mississippi child begins to address this.
In that the broken tumbleweeds leave the meadow, the quintessence of accepting is not a bed pillow.
It is a head messed with.
Might it be loss of self-respect and principles?
Does this mean the world is changing the norms of a greater source?
Gay sex is the new recreation in which man states is the true mental sport.
He is not the homosexual only rising his ******** to persuade the experience of sex.
Might he laugh aloud to say… “A woman will include her-self or she will wish she had".
"This is a male’s domain and that is the truth as is”.
_____________________________________________________________
Written August 09, 2016!
Buoyed over waves of elation
Marvel at favourable sights of creation
Prospect for attainment visible
Within glossy bastion, even trials seems agreeable
Mollusk of endearing devotion, grumbling for denied favours seem so easy
How progenitors of our existence purse their frustrations makes one feel lousy
Reeking of corrupted souls, makes tastebuds sour to elixir
Grafted as second skin blends to exude a new color
Aversion so easily discerned when everything awash
How chameleon spirit avulsed everything from one in a stroke of whiplash
Hooters perched on the demise of accrued inheritance
Consternation that needs to be shackled for their malefactor dance
When plunder acknowledged for their vantage
Stipends bequeathed as morsels to owner of the heritage
When the bubble finally bursts
Lesson that even if one's dominion life is not always just
Monitoring in anticipation stranger's and dear ones alike by holter
Affirms the old adage that blood is thicker than water
For those fortunate and more prosperous of us today
as consumers we have too much choice
we are spoilt
and nauseatingly throw so much away
While so many have little or no choice at all
and face starvation everyday.
It seems immoral and unjust
that so many poor people who need it most
have little and life is tough
But the rich have too much and more than enough.
I often when shopping can't make my mind up
and buy things I really didn't set out to buy
out of frustration
with little hesitation.
I feel so fortunate I am one of the lucky ones
but I'm always mindful and try to help
for as for choice
have non.
With the rise of food banks the like little seen before
With large ever increasing cues at the door
While the greedy rich get away without paying tax
Many struggle to pay bills and have debt upon their back.
It's the same old adage as before
the rich get richer
and the poor get more poor.
Gandhi once said after coming to this country. ''These people are living in paradise
and don'y even now it''. when he saw how much we had.
Peter Dome.copyright.2014.march.
I grew up holding a dear man in high esteem,
And as strange to you as it may seem,
Though there was a plethora of heroes to be had,
My all time hero was and is my dear old Dad!
He led his family by setting a Godly example.
His loving kindness was more than ample.
Struggling through the Great Depression,
Supporting his family was his only obsession!
He was a devout believer in God and his nation,
And was always active in his congregation.
Dad was a firm believer in the Golden Rule,
Espousing that old adage teaching Sunday School!
Though he has been gone for many years,
I still think of him and shed rueful tears,
As I recall the greatest hero I know of.
Care of his family and others was a labor of love.
He made no ripples as he traveled life's rocky road,
And with many burdens his back was bowed.
Just an ordinary factory worker in the local town,
No doubt in Heaven he wears a many-starred crown!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A tribute to my father, William John Hinshaw
Everyday is market day
But I rarely come your way
I have a glimpse of what you have at bay
They glow and glitter from your better ray
And so I will never want to delay
But hurry in ways come what may
And reach your trademark everyday
Let’s trade
When I look round, round and around…
Before we trade I hear this sound
That you will turn my life around
And so I walk right in your compound
Hoping to find all and be found
I’d like to trade on a sober ground
To give you my all that’s less profound
I’ll give them to you in pounds after a pound
So, let’s trade
For sure, I’ve been so afraid
Afraid to face my fears and trade
With you I’ll get more than a fair trade
Coz what I see on your side are a quality grade
All that you alone have wonderfully made
Give me that sufficient grace in wider spade
And a whole shelf of love that doesn’t fade
Yes, yes, yes I will have them paid
Carry them along, alone without a maid
Because that’s all that Your Word has said
Let’s trade
I stand right in front of you with this- garbage
It is my burden that you engaged in gauge
You see how heavy it is for my age
And that’s why I open this brand new page
To capture and record this trade’s advantage
You hawk and shout out loud God’s real image
How nice does that now fit my innocent age
I am just to stop this kind of camouflage
To evade this cage that is coiled within an orphanage
My all life on my own I can’t and wouldn’t manage
So come and help me offload this long, long luggage
And promise me that you will uphold your old adage
Let’s trade
I take Your joy take my pain, let’s trade
Give me Your eyes take mine, let’s trade
Handle my hunger with Your word, let’s trade
Just lift me up when I’m down, let’s trade
Dry my tears when I’m crying, let’s trade
I give You my darkness for your light, let’s trade
In my weakness my Jesus show me strength, let’s trade
I cast my burdens and cares, let’s trade
I give You my all for Your joy, let’s trade
I lay my all at your feet, let’s trade
Let’s trade, let’s trade, let’s trade…
This poem is about life.
But, to consider the meaning of life, its value,
We need to understand how easy it is to lose, and what the stakes are;
What are the implications of the life we choose to lead? I Ponder.
The daily hum drum of life draws on.
People preoccupied with things that, in the end, don’t really matter.
In your final moments, will you be thinking about that parking spot you lost?
Or the sale you caught, and the many things you bought?
No.
You will be thinking about the time you had or lost,
The people you found meaning with, or missed opportunities to do so.
Because in the end, what matters is your legacy, your value to the world.
Life is made up of moments.
Precious blips of time that pale the storyboard in comparison.
Flashes of colour – passion, fury, envy, joy… in a faded society.
Like lightening brightens the night sky in a split second of virtual incredulity.
Moments define our humanity.
They shape our lenses and the perspective of others,
And build or tear down connection with those who surround us.
A moment can change a person’s life, or end it.
Meaning is made up of people.
When you take your last breath, will you be alone?
Or, will you be surrounded by people who love and care for you?
People whose lives you have touched in so many ways, most of which you will never know.
A Legacy…
Your residual presence in the lives of others,
A memory, a ghost, characterized by how you continue to serve society.
Or, a demon remaining in your stead as proof of your lack of care for others.
What will it be?
You can travel the world a hundred times, find wealth beyond desire;
If your hand remains empty to the comfort of a friend, does the rest mean anything?
If the hum-drum is all you can remember, how do you define yourself?
“Life is what you make it.”
The old adage rings true… the choice is in each of our hands.
Some take a lifetime to decide, though Earth does not delay in its orbit.
Time. Meaning. Legacy. Moments… What will it be?