Best Preferences Poems
There was a young fellow named Tony,
Who wouldn't eat his macaroni.
He hollered out, "Hey,
Take this slop food away.
Just bring me a stick of baloney."
Written; November 14, 2014
I don’t have a favourite;
I love each and every one
Whether happy or sad
Cheerful or glum
I love tarty Marti
And svelter Delta
Sloppy Poppy
And vulgar Olga
I love baddy Maddie
And angrier Andrea
Clean Jean
And fairer Farah
I love scorer Pandora
And messy Bessie
Gaudy Maudie
And sassie Cassie
I love a damp vamp
To tell the truth
Or Horny Dawny
And uncouth Ruth
QUIRKS
I once had a friend long time past
Who was wont to always break his fast
On cornflakes not with honey and milk
But pickled onions, gherkins and their ilk
Now if that’s not a quirk I’ll eat my hat
But when I do I must specify that
The brim must have ketchup, and then the crown
Will need Mulligatawny soup to wash it down
I have penchants predilections and preferences
For which others give tolerance and deferences
Like playing Wagner while eating beef jerky
And some other things that are just as quirky
I can ride a bike when not too far
Sitting backwards perched on handle bar
And though not Welsh, but from English stock
I can pronounce Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
In choosing twixt the Burgundies and Bordeaux’s
I adjudicate by colour and by nose
But if the menu’s fish and chips with mushy pea
I’ll settle for a nice cup of tea
So live and let live and we’ll get along
With our whims each singing a different song
These fancies, whether from Venus Mars or Saturn
All add to life’s rich quirky pattern
I don’t have a favourite,
I love each and every one
Whether happy or sad
Cheerful or glum
I love Grim Kim
And Moanie Toni
Henpecky Becky
And Naggy Maggie
I love Bella Stella
And Indie Lindy
Funny Honey
And Windy Cindy
I love Tarty Marti
And Burley Shirley
The Felon Helen
And that twirly girlie
I love Flabby Gabby
And Escapee Lee
Chardonnay Kay
And Meat free Fi
I love Prudy Judy
And Racy Macy
Pristine Christine
And Straight Lacy Tracy
I don’t have a favourite,
I love them all
Shorty and sporty
Petite and tall
Dowdy and flashy
High and mighty
Shy and vivacious
Safe and flighty
I love Juicy Lucy
Smelly Kelly,
Scraggy Maggie
And Silly Millie
I love Gay Mei
And Straight Kate
Spotty Dotty
And Plain Jane’s great
So is Jolly Molly
Clingy thingy
Obese Louise
And Skinny Ginny
I love Boozey Suzie
Sweaty Betty and all
I love them long,
I love them short, I love them tall
I don’t have a favourite,
I love each and every one
Whether happy or sad
Cheerful or glum
I love Prayer Claire
And Lazy Daisy
Gaudy Maudie
And Crazy Maisy
I love Blue Sue
And Classy Darcy
Timid Ingrid
And Brassy Marcie
I love Shy Di
And Sullen Ellen
Beige Paige
And Barren Karen
I love Chipper Pippa
And Hairy Mary
All of them from homely
To a little bit scary
I have a favourite type of girl,
Nothing wrong with that
I love my ladies ample
Like beautiful Fat pat
Also Porkus Dorcas
And Obese Louise,
Glandular Angela
Gives me a good squeeze
I love voluminous
I love them rounder
I love them full bodied
Because rounder is sounder
Our preferences always align,
With what our minds believe.
Our ideologies alone,
Are what our minds perceive.
And we accept no other truth
Than what our minds prefer.
Our reasoning is built upon
What preferences infer.
Some prefer that no God exist,
This is the road they choose.
They close the door with righteous zeal
On all religious views.
Except, perhaps, the ones that have
No God to judge their sins.
When quests for knowledge make men gods
Then everybody wins.
When actions have no consequence
Their preferences are met.
No one need beg forgiveness for
The sins that time forgets.
While some who choose religious paths,
Prefer to be God’s sword!
There is no line that they won’t cross,
In the name of the Lord.
They see what they prefer to see,
Ignoring what conflicts!
They’ll even close their eyes to God
When righteousness restricts.
It all comes down to preferences,
The driver of the train,
A single minded point of view,
That’s misguided and vain.
We believe as we prefer to,
Investing all we are
In what we’d like to be the truth,
We follow just one star.
But there are many stars above,
And countless points of view.
Man’s preferences are infinite,
Yet none of them are true.
That’s why they’re only preferences,
The two are not the same.
The truth exceeds the masterpiece
That dwells within the frame.
And that’s where preferences resides,
Upon that canvas face,
One can’t appreciate the art
While trapped in its embrace.
And yet, most will reject the things
That cause their lines to blur.
Our paradigms are not the truth,
They’re just what we prefer.
I have a favourite type of girl,
But it’s not like I am facile
Nothing wrong with preferences
I just like my girls to be gracile
Sinuous and willowy
I don’t look for a pretty face
But they should have about them
Some elegance and grace
It takes the like of Nimble Kimble
Or the lovely Lithe Blythe
The aptly named Bendy Wendy
Or Lissom Blossom to feast my eyes
I have a favourite type of girl,
I love my ladies trim
Like Skinny Ginny
And Ultra slim Kim
I love them thin and bony
Not a hint of saggy
I like Scrawny Dawny
And Scraggy Maggie
Lovely Lean Jean
Or Slender Brenda
For the nearer the bone
Is sweetest and tender
A faded white shirt
accents his rumpled brown suit
He takes his place unobtrusively
sits content, quietly
His preferences pedestrian
narrowly bourgeoisie
Guests sample exotic liquors
His pleasure is tea
He cares not for flaming duck, nor for pheasant-under-glass
His pudgy fingers put a chokehold on a peanut butter sandwich
For dessert, the raspberry tort was recommended
~ Buffett pockets two mints, peppermint-scented
____________________________________________________
Of course, it's 'The Oracle of Omaha!' Is there any other Buffet
on the world's radar?!
Some prefer cherry
Others like grape
'Whatever, it's a tomato'
Said the hungry ape
A body that’s lean
Money that’s green
A house that’s pristine
Surroundings that are serene
A flexible schedule, not routine
Protection from the unforeseen
A loving companion who’s not mean
A person to answer the phone, not a machine
Genuineness in others, not a smokescreen
Help when needed, to appear on the scene
Complete trust in the Lord to intervene
A heart that’s clean
A mind that’s keen
To believe in the Christ you have not seen…
Is this list long enough for you to understand what I mean?
Mystery books have been devoured by preteens since the fifties.
I remember graduating from Nancy Drew to Trixie Belden.
Or maybe it was the other way around.
In eighth grade I discovered Agatha Christie and “Then there were none”.
I think a few boy readers read The Hardy Boys, but not many.
Boys wanted to be moving usually, not reading.
Today’s preteens are reading the Goosebumps books.
Each chapters ending in a cliffhanger, to urge you toward the next chapter.
I read a few chapters of them. They are not intriguing.
They did not entice boys, but the Captain Underpants book did.
Literal poetry is my go to gal
Metaphorical poetry is impossible for me.
Metaphors do not come naturally
They are not only difficult
to understand but impossible
to write.
Literal poetry is concrete to me,
Metaphors are abstract.
The only abstracts I want
are in my artwork,
not in my poetry.
For they are not easy.
They are difficult
And I am all about easy.