Best Pretty Good Poems
I stand about five feet eight
I'll admit, I'm a tad overweight
Drive an old pick up truck
Not one to pass the buck
At the moment have a dog for a mate
Dropped out of school at eighteen
Got married in a pair of old jeans
A father of four
When I sleep, I snore
When angered been known to get mean
I grew up huntin' and fishin'
Done more than my share of wishin'
Been in a few fights
Know I'm not always right
For my age, still in decent condition
In my life, I've worked many hard jobs
Its been said, "I'm rough as a cob"
I've smoked and drank
Spent time in the tank
And never, not once, did I sob
I also love being outside
My old skin is weathered and dried
Still play in the dirt
Cuss when I'm hurt
But I do have a softer side
Poetry, I read and I write
These days, prefer music to be lite
Love trees and flowers
Warm spring showers
And swinging on stars at night
I like women who like to hold hands
Take moonlight walks on the sand
Curves excite me
Whispers invite me
A good listener who tries to understand
I wash dishes, do laundry and floors
Clean bathrooms, wash walls and doors
I'm a pretty good cook
Without a cookbook
To be honest, don't mind household chores
Just so you're perfectly clear
I've traveled from there to here
Simple but complex
Know love's more than sex
And on occasion I cry manly tears
Yes sometimes I even wear pink
Wear cologne to make sure I don't stink
Write poems about birds
Use everyday words
And I don't give a damn what you think!
by Daniel Turner
Can you count the times you’ve crossed me
And divide it by the times you disrespected me
Then multiply that by the times you hurt me
And come up with a figure?
Relatively speaking it’s a simple equation
Resulting in a drastic re-calculation of the outcome.
Can you give me the square root of the problem
That started this whole conundrum in the first place
And tally up the results and give me a statistical
Analysis comparing the amount of times you
Left me wondering why I’m on this earth
Or if I’m not worthy of trust?
I’m sure the answer would be skewed resulting
In the necessity to rethink the control group.
I believe the right course of action would be to
Figure out the base and height of the love triangle
You thought I wouldn’t notice, and in case you didn’t know
It, I’m pretty good at trigonometry.
Cause for me, who came into this problem with
Total devotion and a faithful trust, this doesn’t
Add up.
Dyin's part of livin'
Livin's been pretty good
But if I die tomorrow
I'd die livin' if I could
Wonderin' what's above me
Wonderin' what's below
Wonderin' bout my destiny
When it's time to go
Jesus walked on the water
Moses parted the sea
Wonderin' what the lord has in store
When I see that burnin' tree
But if I see heaven tomorrow
I bid you all farewell
And I'll pray to God you did some good
To keep you out of hell
This country’s sure got problems
Corruption, crime, and drugs.
And though we try to fix the world
The world just hates our guts.
But for all our woes and troubles
I still love the US
‘Cause compared to the rest of the world
America sucks less
They call us all polluters
With our Hummer SUV’s
But in China you can taste the air
And it taste like iPhone 3’s
You may hate our politicians
And protest what they say
But think about how much it sucks
To be Russian and gay
Our congress can’t do anything
Our senators are goons
But at least they were elected
And their name’s not Kim Jong–un
Japan makes better cars than us
Games and cartoon shows
But I saw The Cove on Netflix huh
And that was pretty messed up, bro
America, I love you, out of necessity
You’re not too hot and not too cold
And mostly not diseased
Compared to the alternative
You’re probably the best
‘Cause the whole world sucks
But America sure sucks less
Our economy is tanking
But we’re not as bad as Greece
Our fast food is disgusting
But Italy has maggot cheese
The NSA is spying on
Our emails and phone calls
But good luck finding WiFi
In some village in Nepal
Brazil is full of riots
Australia’s full of snakes
Mexico’s got cartels
And their water makes you crap for days
Dubai is just Las Vegas
Without alcohol or fun
And Africa’s in a post-colonial tailspin
Of genocide and oppression
I am so sorry for everything you guys have to deal with....Anyways,
America, I love you
Though you’re run by old white men
Republicans are a-holes
But at least they’re not the French
We’d probably get a solid B
If they gave the world a test
‘Cause the whole world sucks
But America sure sucksless
America, I love you
For your lack of murder squads
Your working indoor plumbing
And your mostly valid laws
In a world of mostly crap
America stinks the best
Except for maybe Canada
You guys have a pretty good thing going
‘Cause the whole world sucks
But America sure sucks less
Brother for sale.
I'll deliver him too.
I can send in the mail,
Wrapped in yellow or blue.
He's water potty-trained now,
But that can change in a day.
He'll be bundled with Oreos,
So he can eat on the way.
I can mail him by truck, car, or plane.
He's coming with stuff, his favorite toy train.
He's coming character-recommended, highly by me.
He's a pretty good brother, who is almost three.
We need him back when you get him trained.
We simply cannot seem to get through to his little brain.
That when he has to poop, hiding is no good.
Please train him to use the potty with solids, if you could.
Then send him back, to his crazy, loving home.
And this shall be the end of this tiny poem.
I had a friend he loved to nap
Usually on my bed, sometimes on my lap
He was very smart I tell you that
He didn't even mind my neighbour cat
His fur was brown, had very cute nose
He loved taking pictures he loved to pose
I loved him so much he had pretty good life
And then he got sick he couldn’t survive
Some time ago on the very cold day
It was last time for us to go out and play
I didn’t know how hard this would be
To say goodbye to Mitten for my boys and me
My heart was broken when I looked in his eyes
But I knew God will take him to his paradise
And then when he took his very last breath
I couldn’t stop crying because I knew he was death
I miss him so much each and every day
I wish he didn’t die I wish he could stay
He was my friend best friend of all
I loved him a lot with my heart and soul
His name was Mitten I know he runs free
And plays with the angels
And his waiting for me
Mitten was our family dog for 17 years, cancer took him away on, Feb7 2012
We all miss him a lot..:(
Over the top of Tammy hill
came Tully’s motor car,
Tully never drove it very fast
nor ever very far.
In his youth he’d taught us all
How to pilot our ride,
It was a job he did very well
And in it found his pride.
But now Tully was an older gent
approaching eighty-three,
And he was a pretty good driver still
for a man who couldn’t see.
So when it became known to all
that Tully was on a drive,
It was best for them to stay inside
If they hoped to stay alive.
Whenever he detected movement
in his line of sight,
He’d steer his car right for it
and do so with delight.
He’d assume that he’d happened upon
some traffic on the lane,
It didn’t really matter to him at all
if it was an auto or a train.
All that ever mattered to Tully
was that he found his way to the pub,
And he was about to spend an evening
of Guinness and Irish grub.
Then one night I’d had enough
and was in fear of poor Tully’s life,
The thought of the blind old man
behind the wheel added to my strife.
So I lifted the bonnet on his ride
and removed the distributor cap,
When I was done I was greeted by
some locals as they began to clap.
When Tully finally stumbled out
he found that his ride was no longer game,
He took out a pistol and shot it dead
As if it a horse that had turned up lame.
Now Tully has moved to town
And can walk wherever he goes.
Off in the direction of the wind
And follows wherever it blows.
And when a car comes down the lane,
To the side he’ll frantically dive.
He’ll shake his fist and yell at them,
“Who was it that taught you to drive?”
“Beware the Ides of March,” the seer said to Caesar,
But no one paid him much attention because the seer was a teaser.
Just last week the seer had said, “Beware the rear Cassias,
Whatever it is that he’s been eating has left him awfully gaseous.”
Poor Cassias was so self-conscience that he stopped eating for a week,
It gave him a lean and hungry look that left him anything but meek.
Then the seer said to Brutus, “You need to get out of this joint,
I see that you’re about to get canned unless you show dear Caesar the point.”
“That’s a pretty good idea,” Brutus said, “I think that that’s what we should do,
Both me and Cassias can needle him and some of the other Senators will too.”
But when the seer spoke to Caesar it was hard for the emperor to decide,
What course of action he should take because he didn’t know what was an Ide.
Then people were in awe of the seer’s power and the things that he could see,
They never knew that the things he had said helped to fulfill his own prophesy.
My father-in-law went through this phase with his Alzheimer's.
We’ve recently noticed that grandpa has made himself a friend,
We’re pretty sure that this one will stay with him until the end.
The new guy has his room right next door to my grandpa’s place,
And every time my gramps stands at the window he can see his face.
It seems that the two of them are as compatible as can be,
And they both decorate the same as near as gramps can see.
Gramps visits with his friend to share iced tea and a smile,
Until they both run out of steam and decide to nap for a while.
They make a pretty good team they’re just like day and night,
The new guy uses his left hand and Gramps prefers his right.
And Grandpa never looks in the window just to stand and stare,
But every time he walks past the thing the other guy is there.
Grandpa says the only thing about this guy that might turn into a curse,
Is that the guy is so good looking and he might steal away the nurse.
Me barber’s still one of them blokes who lives the school of old,
using methods quite old fashioned to what modern trends unfold,
so with scissors, clippers, hot towel, then lathered with a brush,
he’ll shave you with a cutthroat, though never in a rush.
And he offers further benefits, if you’re that way inclined,
for just a couple of extra bob, you get your shoes well shined,
and while waiting for your turn, you can read a magazine,
or tune in on conversation, while his razors shaving clean.
He sells those huge cigars as well. I think the Cuban brand!
And there’s Californian Poppy that the young won’t understand.
Wafting through his barber shop is the smell of after shave…
And today there is one customer, who wants to misbehave.
He’ll be in the chair before me; I have to put up with his rot,
his voice is loud and won’t shut up, intimidating all us lot,
so when his time had come, we hoped he’d give us all a spell,
then he demands a shave and haircut and to shine his shoes as well.
I watched the barber lathering, before he beckoned with a call…
then this beautiful young woman came and stood in front of all.
The barber mentioned “Here’s a customer, wanting you to shine his shoes”
and when she bent down to do the job she gave some awesome views.
The loudmouth couldn’t help himself; he had to open up his gob.
He mentioned to the pretty lass, that when she finishes her job,
they ought to sneak away together, and book themselves a motel room,
but from the lass who shone his shoes, a shock’s about to loom!
She smiled into his soaped up face, and gave his shoe a pat,
“I’m sorry sir, I’m married and my husband wouldn’t like that.”
“Your husband!” Scoffed the loudmouth, “Use your commonsense!
Tell him you’re working overtime and I’ll pay you the difference.”
The lass raised her brow and gave a grin, then his shoe a final wipe.
She stood up and took a deep breath before replying to his hype,
“Your offers pretty good” she said, “I’ll go and get my hat and coat,
but you can tell him if you like… he’s got the razor at your throat.”
©2005 Lindsay Laurie
Occasionally I can only see half of it
when I am lucky I get to see at least two
they always make me smile
remembering what they mean to you
now all grown up they make me feel loved
that is my own little reminder of
God's love for me
To Nikko I am the rainbow chaser
'cause I know she loves them too
But she rarely gets to lay eyes on them
so whenever I spot a rainbow
I would snap a pic and send it off to her
knowing that with my meager gesture
I get to spread some cheer
Here’s to Arild and his sliding rainbow
and to Michael who gets lost in his
I have some pretty good reasons
to embrace them even more
their sizes may vary
the colors sometimes strange
Guess what?
They are still a blessing
with or without that pot of gold
*Inspired by MJF and Arild’s rainbow poems*
©210920121010
Unfortunate circumstances made me a weekend father
Two parents separated by a marred history,
now had to care for a child ...
an innocent victim who received emotional shrapnel
as collateral damage from our argumentative battles
Our destructive habits fell onto her,
but children are very resilient, thank God
I loved being a weekend father
There was no bitterness about allotted time of custody,
none of that foolishness
My wife and I settled our divorce amicably ... no courts involved,
except for the legal formality of having a divorce decree issued
by the state
We worked things out between us much better being apart than when we
were married
It's funny how that works
So I got my daughter on the weekends, but over time I had her
more than the weekends
We bonded pretty good
And anyone with kids will tell you, that four-year-olds are a quirky bunch
They're old enough to do enough things for themselves,
but they still want you to do a lot of things for them ...
y'know, they still want the baby treatment
My daughter, she really only demanded two things of me when I first
started having her every weekend:
she wanted us to watch movies together, movies like "Lion King,"
or play video games together, video games like "Lion King"
And she didn't like the part of the movie where Simba's dad, Mustafa died
She always cried, and told me to skip that part ...
that always touched my heart
Because it told me, in unspoken words, that she loved me and didn't
want anything bad to happen to me
When she turned five, I enrolled her at my alma mater college,
in an art program for kids
My sister and father told me that my daughter had artistic ability
So every Saturday, we spent half the day at the college,
because after she got out of class, we would get something to eat,
then go to the main library on campus and get on the computers
To make a long story shorter ... she received an art degree
when she became grown
Becoming an illustrator and computer graphic artist
That's what being a weekend father means to me
Our mayor was attacked out of town as he went for a peaceful little stroll.
There was an odor that wouldn’t go away, it was left by a pesty little troll.
Bullies come in all shapes and sizes, both male and female alike.
Here they are no longer tolerated, we will just stick your head on a pike.
I went for a short little stroll to check the perimeter outside of our town.
It appears that an old bitter troll left some puddles that are smelly and brown.
Maybe it was a drink with her father that gave her that extra little pep.
Those puddles could cause an infection, so watch each foot where you step.
Our mayor gave a call to old Wilbur, he’s a farmer who can shovel and dig.
He is pretty good at cleaning up messes, back at home he lives with a pig.
On the farm is a sign making spider, once famous but is now known as Jeb.
A few of you just might remember, he once starred in the famous Charlotte’s web.
Together they helped make a sign and then hung it by the Troll’s little shack.
It’s a reminder for this foul little creature, just be careful of who you attack.
Peace is once again restored in Soup Creek, that wretched smell is gone from our air.
Don’t mess with our good mayor Tom, he has friends who love him and care.
Ole Kelly worked at the brewery
And was pretty good at that
But one day he lost his balance
And fell into a vat
O’Reilly went to Kelly’s house
Someone had to tell his wife
He said Kelly fell into the beer
And there he lost his life
Kelly’s wife was beside herself
Said I know those vats are slick
Please tell me he didn’t suffer
That my Kelly went real quick
He said I don’t think he suffered ma’am
As far as I could see
In fact while he was swimming in there
He climbed out twice to pee
Another old Irish joke that I just had to set to rhyme.
Grandma got run over by a reindeer
I'm sure you remember that song
Well that was my grandma who was hit
And again, they got part of it wrong
See, she really was run over by reindeer
But it was nothing like they said
Those deer were driving a milk truck
That left my poor grandma nearly dead
My poor grandma just got done milking
And was putting the cows back in the field
When eight drunk reindeer in a milk truck
Crashed thru the fence and didn't yield
They just kept on going thru the barn yard
Straight thru the creek and down the hill
Grandma looked like a bug on a windshield
With pieces of her wig on that milk truck's grill
Now poor grandma never seen it coming
Cause she was looking the other way
We even found that poor womans glasses
Stuck on a scarecrow near the hay
Well, now my grandma had not been drinking
Like that song had claimed she was
But somehow they try to make it funny
Seems like those city folk always does
Well, that's about as much as I can tell you
Because the lawsuit is still pending
Those reindeer got some north pole lawyer
And we heard he's pretty good at defending
So beware of reindeer driving milktrucks
For they mean to cause your grandma harm
And don't forget try to remind your grandmas
To look both ways when she leaves the barn