Best Polled Poems
A farmer drove into town.
Some posters made him frown.
They said, "Go to the Poll".
He said,"In the pasture below?"
"Right now, they're standing a'chowin'".
(To understand this limerick, you must understand that a polled cow has no horns from birth)
......a strange color, green
Become better informed, listen to your teachers,
educate yourself....which branch will the bluejay
survey from?
The hawk, circling, choose his best option?
Bleeding soldiers depend on doctors, rich men
depend on accountants, souls depend on preachers,
tap water depends on scientists and engineers,
nourishing the parched vagaries of citizens
and houseplants.
Words fall like acid-rain, seemingly harmless,
we thought we understood rain, it falls, it
nourishes, fills our reservoirs....then leaves a stain,
a clear outline of abuse, like evaporated salt, clinging
to our shirts after a hard day, sound bite upon bite.
Still, we wade through flooded streets, hoping the
tides will descend, rhetoric return to sanity, our lives
safe, from future floods.
after the elephants parade through every mind
the straw left behind
collects promises dumped in the streets
polled, polished,perfumed
ready to sweep it all up on election day
hit pause... wait four years
repeat
wait four years
repeat
09/08/12
6:09 pm
My sister and I have different personalities
Never alike, two peas from the same pod,
but not germinated for the same Winter crop.
We never argue over mundane trivialities.
I like halibut, but she always chooses cod,
and I prefer vacuuming; she loves to mop.
But there is only one topic we cannot discuss
Our political views caused too many disputes
We disagree on the qualities of a President
and had heated debates. Oh, how we did fuss!
When I said Trump was immoral and in cahoots
with crooks, and he was a stubborn old cuss.
She fired back that Biden was senile, much too old
and she didn't like Kamala, which made me sigh.
Round after round we boxed, in verbal objections.
She watched the numbers as voters were polled
and I wanted scissors to cut off Trump's red tie
and no more commercials for Presidential elections.
Finally, I said, "Our bickering is tearing us apart."
She agreed for the need to put an end to our feud.
We're both much happier, but once in a while
she'll mention his name, and I'll say, "Don't start!"
I'd never vote for a man who's crude and lewd.
I can't understand why she can't see that he's vile.
We'll never agree on which man is most deserving
or which one truly lives by America's Constitution.
We avoid politics when we come face to face.
But I know Trump is unfit, and is totally self-serving
Biden isn't perfect, but Trump started a revolution.
He made a mockery of the office. Such a disgrace.
Yes, I blame him for inciting the Capitol subversion
But didn't say a word to her so we'd keep the peace
Sometimes it's still difficult not to interject a belief
so we talk about taking a pleasant holiday excursion
perhaps to the Caribbean or to the isles of Greece.
I'm just glad that we found a way to stop the grief.
Harry was born on the 20th June 1994,
And is a wheelchair basketball player,
Who at the 2012 Paras was the barer,
Of the Paralympic Flag, he went afore.
He’s a 2.5 player and his team’s won,
Many Championships, World and Euro,
In 2011, in Nazareth with much folio,
They won the gold to themselves sun.
2013 at the European Championships,
Harry and the team won another gold,
And 2014 at the World Champs polled,
They finished in 7th place for swift hips.
2015, the European Championships,
And the GBR men’s senior team zesty,
Won another bright gold medal shiny,
With third consecutive Euro title, strips.
Rio, and GBR made the bronze match,
Where they competed against Turkey,
After normal time it was tied, a lea,
But then GBR secured a 82-76 catch.
when she talks about the past,
she does so with a numbness
that has been developed over
years of trying to push it behind
her---these are the mechanisms
of endurance that had been taught
during years of therapy &
she is suspicious about them having
done a bit of good, because
when she is alone & closes her
eyes, she can still remember
the events that have torn apart her
psyche &
in the most unfortunate moments,
she can still make out the face.
how many men have been sitting with
a new acquaintance & the talking,
be it flirtatious or otherwise,
seems to take a serious turn quickly &
suddenly, so unexpected, she lets
him in on what has happened to her in
the past, no matter how recent that past is?
&
she confides, she tells the stories like
she was reading them from a book,
showing almost nothing left, until the
man reacts & then she might very well
try & blame herself for where, when &
how the abuse came to be---
but there are the statistics &
even if one is so misogynistic
as to believe that all the women polled are
in fact lying,
such colors are shown quickly &
quite often they are exhibited on the side of
the molester, the rapist or the abuser, be him
of the physical or the psychological.
a savage truth exists,
for when she confides, she can never be sure,
even if all her senses tell her that this one is
ok,
she has the torture of the past to remind her &
so there are always walls, always barbed wire
fences bunched up &
a lack of trust that could outweigh
anyone’s.
to think that there are still men living,
who have never had a conversation about
hitting with a woman who has been tormented
& violated,
to think that there are men alive who ignore the
statistics, think they are all lies or just
don’t give a ****,
makes one wonder if this really is the
21st century.
One can't help but a feeling
With all our country men a leaving...
...and more migrants lining up
at customs door...
Latest figures polled this year
57,000 plus have left...
...in pursuit of work as there is no more...
and the piper seems little to"no care"
One can't but help but a feeling...
...with our melting pot a changing...
...looming question as to who we are
working for...
...Capitalism on the brink?
Our taxes for unpaid benefits?
...and more rising unemployment is in store...
as our working class is dwindling...
...Is this piper swindling?
One can't but ask the question...
Once known the land of milk and honey...
SOE flushed...
no longer funny...
Suggest to tax the paper boy...
surplus review without joy...
SOE to pay off deficit...
or the accruing unpaid benefits...
...and the migrants keep on filling
an empty space...
I'm not racist lets be clear...
but common sense has reared it's head.
One can't but ask the question...
Robbing Peter, to pay Paul...
Where else I ask you in the world...
can one arrive into a country...
claim refugee status and get paid...
...Lets divert all this attention...
Blame the solo mothers on a benefit...
not a mention about the fathers who help create...
One can't help but ask the question...
To the piper I will mention...
This recession has created great divide...
but the lesson to be learnt lets not skirt
round with words...
You are playing with peoples families
and their lives...
For the people that were born here...
...are more confused and disgruntled...
For the Piper has gone global world wide...
We want peace and harmony...
the right to drive our country's' economy...
...out of debt, and pay our tax
to those in need...
Not a hand out to the lazy...
who are wading in the gravy...
This is what our country stands
for and much more...
One can't help but ask the question...
Have we forgotten what's important...
and who we're really working for...
For our country men are leaving...
Left us penniless and a grieving...
For this question begs an answer...
in the shallows of joy and laughter...
is our deficit knocking on our front door?
they say it’s just a common cold
it comes across so brash and bold
an apple a day
it is what they say
only healthy people were polled
Our society may be crumbling before our eyes
As foundational structures change dramatically,
Families are not cohesive units as they used to be
Seldom we experience those extended family ties.
Sunday church attendance is at an all-time low;
Non-religious stats show fewer people in the pews
And the news media is often less news than views,
Amusement parks are the Sunday “in” places to go.
Educational systems are constantly under attack
By parents who want control over what is taught
As COVID rages, new teaching methods are sought
And our healthcare systems are sadly out of whack.
Our federal government is an ineffective nightmare
With partisan divisiveness the order of the day,
So, honorable leaders don’t want to enter the fray
And larger numbers of citizens polled no longer care.
Since the mid-nineties, we’ve been seeing gloom
Talk of zombies, disasters, killings, even Apocalypse
The economy always seeming to teeter on collapse
It’s hard not falling into the habit of predicting doom.
written January 15, 2022
Inferiority Complex As A Kid And Adult!
I recall father, (now behold
at near ninety years old - maintains stronghold
on life, cuz born of sturdy mettle -
rumor claims bullion – ne'er did buckle nar fold
meaning bull + lion rolled
together and processed
April 9th, nineteen twenty nine),
fortune teller foretold
envious longevity, perhaps
just shy of eternity
older than anyone polled
occasionally got a bit
short tempered as patriarch
( ~6'2” ~ 200 lbs at prime)
over any five members of Harris household
with me, and timid, meek,
and fawning did scold,
and mother, (who passed away
after completing seventy plus orbits, all told,
sans November 13th, nineteen thirty five),
no matter both parents (more mom)
did abhor applying stronghold
tactics vis a vis corporal punishment,
though the late Harriet Harris, not so gold
din as totally carefree disciplinarian
confessed many moons ex post facto lost hold
of her appreciable tolerance,
than quickly crumbled like broken scaffold
after she spanked this monkey upon bony posterior
(an endearment, but NOT spanking
ever since mama did withhold
though kept pet name, which
ideally suited me as a little boy),
both her hands went limp and cold
apology immediately iterated,
cuz she felt mortified, and sold
reparation with self restraint
against further instances tubby brazenly bold
possibly contributed,
fostered, and inculcated mold
ding mine shy characteristic.
Me, this twangy nasal kid
(courtesy of split uvula we did
discover rather a speech pathologist
six grade minor congenital defect
i.e., submucous cleft palate), aforesaid
I experienced interminable
relentlessly psyche burning acrid
tormenting, teasing, and talking funny
this vulnerability compounded amid
my undersized and socially withdrawn demeanor
whereby every day akin getting scorched
by some "NON FAKE" ironclad grid!
Some of the Stramgest People
Trump has been cause of my much stress
The poor way that people he will address
Many things into pea brain he does cram
Never saying neither yes nor no mam.
Trump tries to make things spic and span
Is so difficult to do with a small hand
After many morons had all been polled
Trump lacks having a heart of gold.
Three ring circus tri-cameral system has become
When people are nuts do they prefer plums
And also will eat prunes and raisins instead
A lump of it later was found in Trump's bed.
They were discrete and saw it on his sheet
Amazing strangest people you may meet
Selling sox, toilet paper and swimming pool
Also something to soften your hard stool.
James Vivacious Voracious Horn
Retired Vindicated Veteran and Perturbing Poet
Moss Cowed Covenant I Keep Putin Off...
For preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation two mike
pence sieve lee clear,
to immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans mock cut up fold
drawl migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting old),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank commensurate Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
donned with torn (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent – bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists
flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will happily, laughably parody
any vigilantes spot on cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies scantily
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
dinned communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how
Democrats plan to hold
world web hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark web bitcoin blockchain trolled
to collude with "crooked Hillary"
under Ponzi scheme auspices doled
courtesy, sans spongebobsquarepants
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily scrutinizing,
policing, monitoring and
fortifying electronic Internet scaffold.
“Deep, deep, deep. Listen and hear our faint gait.
Sanitation, fluorescent lights, and a PC pillow for smother.
Agree! Agree! Atone! Suck it in and suff-o-cate.
White-ness. Black. Ev’ry creed, faith, and color. Listen to Nanny State and call her your mother.”
A wilting flower and grass that’s mowed
Are ever learning why the wilt and why the harm
Innovation, creativity, and where Americana once flowed
Abandoned by the Deep as “fly over” and robbed and made empty the house and the farm
Nude, nude hush in the cellar and the hand can’t hold the gavel
“Trade with China, take arms to China. In Syria sustain the war.
Rude, rude, rude! Abuse of power and a ban on travel.”
Rightful tariffs to the farmers and the market still tends to soar
“Bully the one we call a bully or brute.
A triggered, flying milkshake will save a safe space.
‘You get out and make a crowd!’ You fight! You punch! -- You loot!
And if you see his son about, spit in his face and invade the place.”
Knowledge of good and evil, and the tree from which it sprang
Covet, covet, corrupt in Kiev; greed was found a-Bidden
An Arkansas mansion mem’ry and sight on the oval did haunt and did pang
An outsider, and drainage of septic forbidden
“The farmers don’t want handouts or charity.”
But past year’s labor sets this year’s price
And The Salt of the Earth today will have clarity
The cream off the barrel of tariffs is their due, and the tycoon’s not calling it “nice”
“I’ll still call you a hater. You deplorable vulture!
Because the map in November robbed us our due!”
It’s not 'the other' we hate; it’s your stainless-steal culture
You polled the what, -- (here a hint and a Midwestern clue)
you owned the what, but Deep, my dear, you forgot about us and left sour the Who.
Warm, warm, yellow warm incandescent nourishes
Blue, blue, sterile, starving, hopeless erie --essence
Nanny off the hitch and hands uncuffed --a dirt road gives and flourishes
With the death of equity and the light of equality. And the tapestry shall dawn irid--escence
The long bulb dies along the edges and fringes
Clinical, global culture to the bin
The gate has fallen off its rusted hinges
And the incandescent will win.
If only we had met yesterday
when love was new to both of us and untarned,
and dreams fashioned by hope and laughter
were made without question and rose color glasses
were not a joke!
If only we had met yesterday
when in our youth, "Promises were made to be broken"
was not the rule, and the ache in our hearts, was made
by cupid's arrow, answering a call to love.
Yesterday, it was so simple to pull the petals from a daisy
and he loves me was always the last petal to be polled.
Today, the daisy's won't tell, today, the daisy's won't tell,
Today, you belong to another...
Where were you yesterday, when I needed you?
Cynthia
The young and the old are part of man's fold.
Love between them, better than gold…tenfold.
The past before told, as the future shall behold.
Depends upon love shown, not an empty billfold.
Chores hide and seek, anger vanquished…controlled.
Life molds by example as truths are told.
Family meetings upon hope's threshold,
Foster goodness without the need to scold.
Happy days upon sacrifice enrolled.
Profits many blessings; smooths lives potholed.
Freedom of choice has a responsibility twofold.
Give from the heart; let understanding enfold.
Time writes; family history lives scrolled.
Children grow and soon leave the household.
Memories in heart, that each child shall hold,
Establish free choices in love's leasehold.
Seniors who listen with wisdom bankrolled,
Experiences share…but only when polled.
Respect grows for elders as life is strolled.
Admiration earned; limiting stronghold.
The young, like the old, are part of man’s fold.
Time together grows respect’s freehold.
Helping children make choices…scorn untold.
The smiles that you give will come back ten-fold.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
June 5, 2010
Poetic form: Monorhyme
Since John and Paul first met in high school,
we have had decent success playing in Liverpool.
There was some tragedy we went through.
The worst was the passing of our dear friend, Stu.
However, our music is still popular today.
We were polled number one by far and away.
The birds fly in from all around
to listen to our upbeat skittles sound.
I have been with these guys through thick and thin.
Now they are telling me I am no longer in.
They have been following the sound of a different drummer.
A new man has taken my place. What a bummer!
They will not sound the same in Hamburg or Liverpool.
To all the loyal fans, this will not be too cool.
Who needs them? I will form a new band.
When it is all over, I will hold the winning hand.