Best Old Stuff Poems
News is abhorring
And so boring
Starting from the break of dawn
I think we need
To be indeed
Vaccinated for the yawn
They always try
The same tired lie
Their old shtick goes on and on
I’ll catch my death
With lack of breath
If they don’t vaccinate the yawn
They put on acts
With rusty facts
Their dog dug up from the lawn
And then they’ll drone
Over that bone
Hurry and vaccinate the yawn
Obey we should
For public good
And if not they’ll use their brawn
That same lousy
Makes me drowsy
Excuse me while I yawn
Here’s protection
From infection
Sorry but we’ve seen that con
So please instead
Cure sleepyhead
And vaccinate the yawn
We’ve had enough
Of their old stuff
We’re pooped out being their pawn
Since they’re creepy
We’ll stay sleepy
Until they vaccinate the yawn
THE OLD FART SONG
(sing to the tune of "Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys")
Verse one:
Old men ain't easy to love and they're harder to mold,
so train 'em when young, girls, don't wait till their bones have turned cold.
They're slow as molasses, wear cheap reading glasses, they're hearing aids give them away,
they grumble and mumble, they bumble and stumble, what hair they have left turns to gray.
Chorus:
Ladies, don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
Their best parts get limber, their brains turn to timber,
they spend too much time letting farts.
Ladies don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
because when they're home, you will wish you're alone
and they think they have all of the smarts.
Verse two:
Old men like old stuff, ain't that some strange stuff, how antiques will make 'em feel young?
They whistle like thistles, sling advice like missiles and sing like their a**es got stung.
They're always ploying and tinker toying, they usually, always repeat:
What did you say dear? SPEAK UP NOW, DAMMIT! and, When in the hell do we eat?
Repeat Chorus
Verse three:
Old men like talkin' way more than go-walkin', but listening, well, not so much.
Don't try to change him or even "re-range" him, or mess with his habits and such.
Changes upset him, so you better let him, still think he has plenty pizazz,
or he will snuffle, kerfuffle and shuffle, doin' stuff that's a pain in the azz.
repeat chorus
Verse four
They say that old soldiers don't die, that they just fade away,
it's the same with your old man... remember each dog has his day.
Don't nickel and dime him, remember to prime him, be kind as he turns into dust.
Through thick and through thin and through silly and sin, you're together for better or bust.
FInal Chorus
Ladies, don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
let 'em be babies and let 'em be children
and let 'em be heroes again.
Ladies, don't let your husbands survive to be old men,
When they hit bottom, be thankful you got 'em,
'Cause soon enough it will all end.
I bought a new pillow
But you may behold,
In back of my closet,
Where I hid the old.
My chair pads were faded;
I purchased a set.
Did I ditch the first ones?
I haven't quite yet.
My glasses, old-fashioned,
Looked blah on my face.
My new ones sit next to
The old model's case.
Replacements look spiffy,
But part of the deal
Is chucking the old stuff
That's lost its appeal.
If I beat my spouse
To the Grim Reaper's door,
Tossing my pre-replacements
Will be his first chore.
choose: earth, how i feel, old,
LOOK AT THIS STUFF!
Look around all this stuff!
Can we use it, reuse it and recycle?
This old stuff do we buy new?
Chuck out or move---what?
Bags all packed and ready to go?
I wish that were the case.
Tossed some clean clothes in the trunk,
With some things I can’t replace.
Won’t take time to be ready to go.
I don’t wanna see her face.
Leaving behind lots of junk;
Getting out of her space.
There’s some good stuff that you should find
At Saturday’s yard sale.
Cowboy boots, mechanics’ tools--
Nothing fancy or upscale.
You can have the gal I left behind.
You’ll get her better than wholesale.
Watch out, she plays dirty pool,
And puts her men through Hell.
Things with my gal were getting cold.
It’s time for some upgrades.
Nothing there was working right--
Need a new gal ready-made.
I want a gal that’s better than gold,
Without charades or masquerades.
Saint by day, sinner by night,
That’s easy to persuade.
(chorus)
I’ll miss my worn-in cowboy hat
And slightly worn-out clothes.
I’ll miss my rig and lariat
With the yellow Texas rose.
Counting all the things that I gave up,
You could naturally infer—
Though I’ll miss a lot of my old stuff,
I definitely won’t miss her.
Yes, I’ll miss a lot of my old stuff,
But certainly not her.
God understands when we get tried
he understands that sometimes we may fall
but God helps us with any situation at all
God is with us in all things
... that's how my heart always sings
he gets rid of the old stuff and brings you new
dont worry what tomorrow may bring
for God loves and he understands everything about you.
... ...
better things are just round the corner
all in God's time
I am so Glad that i am his and that he is mine.
never will he elave you
never will he forsake you Amen.
America the Beautiful
The heartland of America of peace and old farmhouses,
the country I read about as a young man it is still there
although news we are served is of riots and mass shooting.
Sturdy farmers in blue overall at the bottom of the road
have collections of old stuff from recent past things
collected for the love of it, but you can buy some if they
feel like selling, canny know the value of scrap metal
Nice roads in a green landscape and tall three, and no
police sirens scream around winding corners and bullets
do not fly through the air hitting a child.
This is America the beautiful, I will go there someday,
perhaps buy a rusty old Dodge that has been standing under
a tree for twenty five years-who cares- and talk to the old
farmer about this and the sorry life of city dwellers.
Chorus 1
You don't know me, although you think you do
You don't know me, but this love was meant for you
You don't know me, or you would take my hand
You don't know me, ain't no more to understand
Verse
I've waited just about long enough
I'm tired of listen'n to the same old stuff
We're out of time, this ain't no bluff
This road's to rough
Chorus 2
You don't know me, I wish we could have more time
You don't know me, oh how I've suffered from this crime
You don't know me, or how high this love might climb
You don't know me, my heart lies broken in this rhyme
12/02/2017
End of the Line Contest
Ever search for something interesting on TV
You finally give up and go back to your PC
Same old stuff
Enough is enough
Aliens, Sasquatch and monsters under the sea
© Jack Ellison 2016
My grandpa always loved good yard sales
To pick up odds and ends driving for miles
Would return with amazing things in his cart
As he loved old books to instruct and impart.
First he would read a book with words’ usage
Would leave hand written notes on each page
His time came and passed away though sturdy
And I went to a University for further study.
As the family grew, needed more space enough
So decided for the yard sale with all the old stuff.
.
At the end of the day, we got rid of many a things
But the books, old and new, remained in the offing.
While winding up the sale, my eyes fell on an old book
At once the past became a present with a further look.
It was the most sacred scripture The Bhagawad Gita
A colloquy by Lord Krishna, a Bible of Hindu *Amrita
Preaching Karma as you have the power to act only
And no power to influence the result solemnly.
I carry Gita, the book with notes by my grandpa physically
And never forget the teachings therein spiritually.
What looked like a trash to people who had no concern
Luckily it has been a great treasure and of great concern.
* Nectar
+++
August 25, 2014
Form: Rhyme
Second Place Win
Contest: Where frozen embers still burn by Gail Angel
The same feeling as I was a child
It does not change, what I believe
Christmas spirit felt and beguiled
At Christmas, we welcome being naïve
It is setting aside worries for the meantime
Look around and you’ll care for other’s needs
For this time, kids are caroling instead of nursery rhyme
A long break from work and school will succeed
Some would say won’t have celebration this year
As someone is gone to heaven bringing holiday blues
As this season means family reunion to endear
Have yourself emerged, you have to choose
Finding happiness in the simplest ways
The world has become more entertaining to view
Lantern watching and carnival visit to satisfy sullen days
After jaunting, visit movie houses to watch something new
It is time to be thankful for year-round blessings
It may not be a good year for you, but for others, it is
It is a worry-free, at heart-peace is worth possessing
Presence of loved ones doing old stuff that you miss
As here we are in modern days, we stick to old tradition
Gather around old photo albums and walk through golden days
Reconnecting is the best time, call by phone or write admission
Forgiveness is a key in healing; reach out as time fades and decays
December 17, 2015
2006 Fifa World Cup, ah jump and celebrate Trinidad in it
But yuh know de saying, after joy is sorrow sh…..t
Yeah boy, all skin teeth eh laugh
Trinidadians like too much bacchanal
Band yuh belly or just eat a food nah
Behind back is dog’, before face is Mr. Dog ha!
Geographically behind God back is Switzerland
Shush! Bush have ears, corruption in Fifa and other far away land
Well there is something brewing, something cooking up
Come hell or high water America aim for control, headquarters swoop
Yuh hear comess
Corbeau doh eat sponge cake or wear dress
Ey, cut eye doh kill
Dis corruption thing is ah skill
De mark buss
De gloves are off who come fuss
Boy beat the Iron while it hot
Yuh ‘WARNER’ retire to be free ah what
Well de mango doh fall far from the tree nah
Yuh either a Havelange, a Blatter or ah ice Glazer
Doh drink tea too sweet for nobody fever
Doh cut off yuh nose tuh spoil yuh face forever
Fifa put de cart before the horse
Scandal and corruption investigation enforced
Empty vessels make de most noise
Whether partnership or independent every bread have he cheese
Remember goat doh make sheep
So whichever leader ent going to care
He/she doh eat nice de say causing fear
I dey with dem jus come attitude about de same old stuff
Doh like tuh wok and jus loll off
I am just a simple storyteller
Political LEXOPHILIA
©Copyright June 9, 2015 by Brian PierreNasia Alexander
Blurry e-motion
Waiting on words;
Upheaval swirls
Meal time posture
Food court harvest;
Same old stuff
Chinatown fringe
Walkabout excursion;
Hot humid weather chokes
Word for word jazz
Relevance juxtaposed;
Poignant verse strains
Book store punctuates
Tucked in a corner;
Niched following
Verse genres ply
Moods and variations;
Starling change surprise
Clap books monochrome
Small print runs;
Modest readership circle
Works on offer
Book bargains tease;
Second-hand relevance
Simple repast
Eat when hungry;
Flexible meal duration
Migraine fatigue hits
Siesta to recharge;
Stop gap measure
Cash and carry
Shopping trip downtown;
Happy getaway
Tired eyes droop
Glare of noon day sun;
Sudden shower wets
Casual visitors
Impromptu discourse;
Catchup chit-chat
So much to say
Hourglass reprieve;
Abruptly cut short
Conversations hurl
Mid-afternoon visit;
Twenty years backlog squeezed
We style a smile
Catch-up with past wit;
Great mileage in minutes
Joy in swift passage
Touching bases now;
Moments in retreat
Leon Enriquez
13 June 2014
Singapore
The festive season is here again
The buying has in earnest begun
Bargains, bargains I look for
In the morning rush towards the door
I enter the race of giving gifts
To climb the social ladder swift
Then on to buy some old stuff
Dressed in rich festive puff
For nephews and nieces
Some colourful pieces
With decorative labels
Though bought cheap under the table
For Uncles and Aunts
I visit some notorious haunts
To buy budget deals
Though horrible I feel
Miss Jill may find a way.
As I thought about your kindness
And the kids you teach at school.
I pondered how any help can come
From the ink of this old fool.
Is there any value in his work?
Reading some rhymes could be fun.
The one about the little bear cubs
Out for a daily, adventurous run.
Some might be too sad.
Miss Hattie moving on.
Or The Last Christmas Goose
May not be the perfect one.
But maybe the real lesson here
Is not so plain for all to see.
Hidden now from ‘plainer’ view.
The real lessons just may be.
For the student with no interest
There’s the image of this old man.
Wanting in his waning years
To share stories the best he can.
But with no formal schoolin’
He’s left to merely wallow.
For he is left to do his best
With no clear path to follow
Had he known long years ago
That his ageing head would fill.
With rhyming words to share
He’d have swallowed a”poets” pill.
Practiced all the little tricks
Those teachers teach in schools.
Spelling, punctuation and grammar
All have their ‘poetic’ rules.
When “oldbuck” was young
Those 70 long years before.
He couldn’t imagine what
He’d need those hard rules for.
But like trigonometry skills.
It would takes some 50 years
Before he’d need that stuff
Long stored between his ears.
He’s trying for a better job
They assumed that he could do
But to just make sure of that
There were”trig” problems, not a few.
There he was in a tight spot.
It was important he do his best.
He called upon old stuff he’d learned
Cramming for a 9th grade test.
So maybe that’s the hidden value
The real worth of all you’ll find.
It’s not the stories that he’s told
It’s how they spark young minds.
So if you find some value here.
If you can use them as examples
Of broken rules or faulty use.
You will find so many samples. :o(
If I’ve sparked your interest
I wish you luck as you look now.
To see if any of what’s been “writ”
Could now be used somehow.
* * * * * * * * *
Written by oldbuck May 1st 2017
as he thought about Miss Jill and
the clever little students that await
her voice each day.
How could those silly rhymes
be used with them in any way?