Best Pick At Poems
(A Co-worker)
Stop hatin' on me you ole crow,
Why don't you give me what you owe-
Me and that is respect you old coot,
Don't you know that I know that crows
Only pick at the best fruit,
It's as if you can see my future better than I can,
That is why you are acting like a twisted fan,
All out of control and down right vindictive,
Usually that kind of behavior is indicative,
Of someone who is jealous hearted and bitter,
Misery loves company and baby sitters,
I wish you would quit slandering my name,
You have had your fifteen minutes of fame,
Stop hatin' on me you ole coot,
Don't you know that I know that crows
Only pick at the best fruit.
There's the mirror we look at
to pick at spots,
The mirror we dress by,
to see the lot,
The one to cream and
shade the eyes,
The one to try out
feigned surprise,
The one that travels
and shows fatigue,
(Your eyes have circles,
your teeth are green.)
But the truest vision
of ups and downs,
Of sideways bulges
and hairdo clowns
Is the one that hits you
with dismay,
The shop front window
on a sunny day!
Singular snowflakes spread-out
blanket a dreary barren berm
that overlooks the dormant meadow
bringing a brightness to fields of grey.
Smiles overcome me as I watch
the proud red-breasted robin
pick at pieces of weathered brush
choosing just the right one
to comfort her nesting baby.
Whistles echo out of the rustic kitchen
where a steamed up copper kettle sings
waiting patiently to pour into perfect tea.
The first sip commands my attention and
wraps tightly around me, leaving a feeling
like your precious smile on a cloudy day
Quietly I sit absorbing the peaceful morning
like the baby robin in anticipation your return
I wish a sack of peanuts would rise as one
To take us back from where we've strayed.
And turkey legs and brooding plants
Would lovingly give the time of day.
And tulips warmed by spring's first kiss
Would have a better sense of play.
And dire feelings of deeds undone
Would not dance their grim ballet.
I wish cats and dogs would go to work
And latter take me for a walk.
Could the wind not blow on mountain tops
And leave alone their weathered rocks?
Could the clouds and rain end their sad refrain
And not pick at nature's lock?
Could the Great Peanut take the time to lead us home
As zealous members of its flock?
I wish a misplaced word would stand its ground
And give sense to our release.
Where a milkshake made from a lover's tears
Would cause the price of nostalgia to increase.
And if only ducks and crows would have their say
To bring back the long deceased.
And the stuff of legends would rue the day...
They took from me their final piece.
But such is not the way of things
As nature's laws fill up this lonely place.
And the rules that govern our world view
Are rarely questioned or misplaced.
But I am burdened with a child's faith
And sense there is more than time and space.
So I will one day enter Heaven and look upon...
My Mother's loving face.
The End
*For those who might be interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day or so.
Did you know....
about the look in my eyes?
The ongoing fatigue....
The fact that I sleep more....
the fact that I distance myself....
away from you?
Don't you see,
what you've done to me?
You've taken a loving man,
and you've destroyed his self-esteem....
You've been on him so much,
until now he's become numb to your words.
From sun up to sun down,
it's nothing but words of harm,
it's always about what you want,
you're expectations,
and how you want me to be....
you want me to be like you.
You've been torn apart by your past,
so much to the point where all you know,
is to charge at me....
making me feel less of a man.
Well....
your days of devaluing me are coming to an end....
you're mad because I refuse to bend....
or break....
You're nothing but a critic,
the biggest one I've ever known,
I'm fed up with your constant criticizing,
so please just leave me alone....
my world is all messed up,
I can't think straight half the time,
because I am constantly in your crosshairs....
and it isn't fair....
I've always been there,
to love and support....
You were my everything,
then you started to pick at me....
and now I want nothing more to do,
than remove myself....
away from you....
You are nothing but a critic....
picking and picking at me....
it's so sickening....
it's angering....
it's making my stomach turn....
So I will take our memories
and watch them all burn....
I'll leave you right where you are....
I can't go on like this....
I refuse to be devalued....
By a critic....
You're just a critic....
Picking at me,
making me feel bad....
always on my back,
and you wonder why I get so mad....
You're just a critic....
You're just a critic....
Woody Wood-Pecker
Does anybody remember the cartoon Wood Wood-Pecker?
Always used to laugh, do, play and sing to say so what the hecker
The show sure did last
He surely did fast
And did you know he’d really never and pick at your pecker.
Written: 1/30/15
Theresa Marie
Life is a playground, the fun never ends.
Not a care in the world, just run around with your friends.
Doodling on the walls
Playing house with your dolls.
Chasing boys around with cooties
But only those you think are cuties.
A scraped knee covered with a Hello Kitty band aid.
“There’s no monster under your bed, don’t be afraid”
Said Daddy, after a bedtime story.
Suddenly you realize- Dad’s jokes are getting too corny.
Life is an avalanche, no one understands.
Why does nobody get your obsession with this boy band?
Mom is too naggy
Your classmate is too braggy.
Chasing deadlines for essays due weeks ago
Procrastinating,contemplating; you’ve hit an all time low
You’re hungry, but you’re fat.
Each week there’s a new pimple to pick at
“I think he likes you,” whispers your friend.
But you know he only likes you for your backend.
Suddenly, you realize- you’re no longer updated with the latest trends.
Life is an overflowing agenda, it’s nerve racking
Responsibilities and bills just keep stacking.
The baby’s awake at two am again
You blink once, and suddenly he’s ten.
Now you’re Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter bunny all rolled into one
Did you really just make that lame pun?
You realize that you sound just like Mom.
When your son brings home a girl, it’s hard to remain calm.
Your husband finds a gray hair on you
And you can’t help but feel a bit blue.
Suddenly, you realize- you’re sitting at your baby’s wedding pew.
Life is a daydream, you reminisce about the past.
How long did eighty years really last?
Sour moods and achy bones
The children moved out, you are now alone.
Open a photo album, look and see.
“Wow, was that really me?”
The fireplace crackles, the rocking chair creaks
You sit your granddaughter on your lap and pinch her cheeks.
“I had pigtails just like you when I was your age”
Suddenly, you realize- it is now your time to exit the stage.
Why'd I have to go off and love you
I mean I do love you
Kinda sorta in-a-way I guess not really anymore
Like I don't hate but I sometimes just want to pick at your heart with a meat clever till your true emotions spill out
Don't get me wrong
I don't mind chillin with you but when I do I start to feel like things are better
Like the way you would look at me makes me feel like love really dose exists
And the way we would inappropriately joke about sex while around other couples made me think things seemed easy
I know we broke up but you never truly knew how I felt
Like how I would write about you every other day
And the fact that I have a journal that's filled with poems that would make me look like a creep
I mean when we were together things couldn't have been better
I had my dream girl
My grades were great
I couldn't see life getting any better than this
But knowing life and I things were only to get worse
May 26 2015 the breakup
After our senior trip of course I was in denial
A week later you were distant
Two days later we were physical
One graduation later you had broke it off
One semester of college and boring conversations every know and them later
I'm here
Why'd I have to go off and love you
I mean I do still think I love you
I think
Like I don't hate you
I just hate our outcome and I don't hate what we had I just hated what it made me
By: Justin sharp
Where are they now the fighters?
Fighting for their freedom as well as ours
Survivors of those turbulent war years
The silent heroes
Saving us
Sparing us the trauma they faced
Hiding from us their fears
And the actions forced upon them
The nightmare’s they faced
Were theirs alone
They sheltered us with their silence
And now we curiously pick at their wounds
Dig into the memories they tried to forget
So that their sorrow becomes our sorrow
Their mistakes not forgiven and forgotten
But displayed before a changed world
Silver spoons stolen, a tragic union
Children taken … so long ago
Even their stories are silenced by death
If only we could respect their hard fought lesson
That Silence is golden
We
..protest the right of others to protest
while defending our right to free speech
shout down the voices of others
exercising their right to speak freely.
.. pick at the feast of democracy
like children playing with their food
in cafeteria-like rebellion
dining on peace while waging war.
.. rush past a fallen flag
to pick up litter
tape it to our bandolier
of PC “merit” badges.
..riot in the streets
reeking havoc and destruction
upon our neighborhoods
and our neighbors.
..slander those who do not think
as we do, act as we do
question the motives of all
but ourselves.
..pray to gods
unknown
to those who pray
to other gods.
..walk past one another
unable to speak
for fear a greeting
may be offensive.
..huddle – herd like
in our “comfort groups”
fearful of
a stampede.
2/2/2017
submitted to – Theatre of the Absurd – Poetry Contest
Once upon a time, I saw a Candy List of more than forty types of candy. And would you believe that people were actually invited to enter a contest to pick at least 10 of their favorites from among such a list? Unbelievable! For crying out loud, what is this world coming to? It's just not fair for the 'sense of taste' to be tested like that. Why, if I were King, I would issue a decree to band such an endeavor.
I grew up eating a lot of BUTTERFINGER bars, and I would eat a MILKY WAY if it was my only choice, but I never really liked them. I have always loved coconut and just about every kind of nut there is. Saturate a column of coconut with almonds, cover them with chocolate, and the next thing you're chewing on is Peter Paul MOUNDS; or am I mistaking Peter and Paul for Amond Joys? A BABY RUTH candy bar was certainly at the top of my sweet list; and what's not to like about a peanut covered bar of candy called PAYDAY?
I cannot deny it and I dare not hide it. Not so much now, but way back then when sugar was looked upon less frowningly, I was a sucker for the TOOTSIE ROLL. I remember that the LEMONHEAD candies were a tad bitter, but the HOT TAMALES was a 'play around' kind of candy; and what could be better than playing and competing with a mouth 'on fire' with candy? LIFESAVERS and NOW AND LATER were among my kids' favorites, and the KIT KAT still ranks high on my candy list, but at the top of my 'sugar heap' are the SNICKERS.
Now back to the Candy List I mentioned at the beginning. Upon further investigation, I discovered that three of my favorites were not even on the list. Like boots were made for walking, the Lollipop and the Holloway candy sticks were made for licking and sucking. And it pains me to think about the fact that M&M Peanuts candy wasn't anywhere to be found. I'm not a king but if........
09212018PoSoupContest, How Sweet It Is, Carol Connell,3P
The problem of having PTSD
is no one can see your injury
You may be vacant and just stare
Others think you just don't care
The demons are their day and night
Wanting you to flee or fight
Nowhere to run too you must stand
Fight your fears hand to hand
You just can't sleep the dreams hurt your brain
You bang your head thinking your insane
You know you need help from others around
They don't understand they weren't on the ground
Anxious and scared is another issue
But please don't grab a paper tissue
It is not pity that we seek
It is help as life appears so bleak
Family and friends try there best
But to them your a total mess
You hit the drink and maybe the drugs
Pick at your skin get rid of the bugs
Governments sent you to faraway lands
Now it appears the have washed there hands
I don't know if this is strictly true
But I do know they needed you
Some may say we were just a number
But it's not our fault were in this slumber
The places we went the things we saw
Another type cast "casualty of war"
So if you know of someone like this
Be supportive ptsd is hard to miss
They will say that they are ok
But say no and go out of your way
It will be appreciated trust me you'll see
They will turn it around and agree
You pulled them out of that dark place
And to heavens door it will be last place
A wound trying to heal.
I pick at grief,
like a child digs at a scab.
I'm leaving a dark dance
that winds into a night
that never ends.
A dance where pain circles,
and weaves it's seeds
into a hilly landscape,
that lives behind my eyes.
Memories of tangled beauty
like silken grass
knot in the breath of the wind.
I pull and I push.
Like Chinese handcuffs,
I won't let go.
Dusk lights a path
that beckons me to follow
to a darkness so deep
I know it would blind me.
Lost, I listen for dawn.
A bath of morning light
so lovely, so caring
washes over me.
Shines while I trace
the path of where I've danced.
A trail of fading steps,
pale bruises imprinted lightly
on the tender earth.
In the wind I now hear music.
It's a beautiful song I hum
while I watch a scar grow fainter.
A Love Poem
Get under my shoe.
Crawl down there and flatten.
Spread yourself, ooze
Between the cracks of my heels,
Solidify with old gum and dog hair and
Stay there.
Squish when I tip to the balls of my feet,
Sink into cement,
Drown out in the moist heat of
Baltimore sunshine.
Stick to the blacktop,
Leave small chunks of yourself behind to
Dry out and crust over
For a dog to nibble,
Or a bum to piss on,
Or a crow to pick at
He’ll peck out your eyes,
At least what’s left of them.
I’ll track the rest of you home through
Back alley water and random piles of
Dog ****.
Then I’ll loosen and scrape you with
An old gnarly stick,
Fling your remnants across my front porch and
Walk inside,
Without thought,
Leave you there to
Ponder your ****-and-scum-covered existence before the
Noonday rains come and wash you away.
I'm feeling good, so I think I'll kick some multi syllable rhymes,
It's a known factor that I flow in undefinable time,
Because I'm killing it, I'm at an undeniable height,
and if you don't like it then you can show me your defiant side
Cause I got a meter, it's full with millimeters to go,
and it'll bust, the brush, will the coat the ground like snow
You listen to one punchline and your eardrums will implode,
Like drowning in the Pacific Ocean and sinking to the benthic zone
It's just to cold, to much pressure for your structure to withhold,
I'll disect you with words, and pick at your skull through damp bones
Through every last note, what I teach you is all that you know
The lesson has been taught, you learned, swallow your pride, and go home
I feel the friction when lead hits paper, and thoughts come to life
Form personification when thoughts speak, and honesty writes
the dictator, of mad rhymes, giving the frustration light,
And I form art because that's what I born to do, and that's right
Stir up some biological warfare, and mix up some chemical fumes,
You need a gas mask, to withstand what's gonna happen to you,
You gotta bad fortune, the palm reader was telling the truth,
Your reputation won't save you, from acid mist that forms dew
With words I torture, incase the rage, then let it out
Then cap it just time, nobody can hear your silent shouts,
you should've took another route, but you pushed these words out of my mouth,
And you made yourself a slave, with metaphors I'll rip you, that's what I'm about
Because of pent up emotions hiding within my skull,
It's easy for me to let loose, and leave the results unresolved
I'll leave you to the bidding, then like a chemical solution you'll disolve,
You'll regret stepping to me, like opening up a puzzle you can't solve
Destroying syllables, this is insanity incased in a beat
Trying to step to me, is like stepping with hot coals under your feet
I'll leave you in a daze, eyes glazed over because you thought you could defeat,
But my attributes were better than yours, cause I was raised by the streets.