Best Prouder Poems
He scooped and he packed
He rolled me good and round,
When all was done, I stood there
Only three feet off the ground
I had wondered why...
Why did this teenage boy,
Build me up this way
No bigger than a toy?
No bigger than his dog
In fact, we saw eye to eye,
I looked around for answers
And still I wondered why?
Then I came face to face
With an answer that was clear,
When the boy in the wheelchair
Slowly came rolling near
With his teenage brother
Lending him a helping hand,
He placed a smile upon my face
A smile so wide and grand
My eyes, two big buttons
From Grandma's sewing kit,
My scarf, one of their Dad's
Was striped and hand knit
From their Mom's kitchen came
My nose, a long gnarled carrot,
My arms, two maple limbs
From the family's tree I did inherit
My heart, warmed by the boy
The boy who could not walk,
His eyes laughed when he saw me
Though he could not even talk
No prouder stood a snowman
That towered, oh so tall,
Than me, the littlest snowman
The proudest one of all.
The roadway's blocked with drifts of snow,
by winter winds that howl and blow.
And ominous clouds clot the sky,
beneath a sallow sun's faint glow.
House calls get performed on the fly,
even though I'm no longer spry.
But a country doctor's no good,
unless he is willing to try.
Experience; says that I could,
but first, I'll gather more firewood.
For nights gets cold when it turns black,
and some have frozen where they've stood.
My tired feet plow a winding track
through frozen fields on my way back.
And yet, I'm prouder than they know
of that baby born in a shack.
(Interlocking Rubáiyát)
3/12/2015
11/17/16
He did not hit no home run, it was a grounder
How many cabinets or counters
Have some sort of white powder
Many meals cooked with flour
Familiar with the Two Towers
As well as Wario and Bowser
Head up, regardless of any times being dour
Nagivating around sharp objects that could be eye gougers
In certain waters, swim flounder
Certain individuals working as a bouncer
Or with web browsers
And many more, but I'm not going to name them all like an announcer
Some just want the money and power
She wanted exotic flowers
And a dog that was a schnauzer
Objects being restored and scoured
On a planet with unexplained mysteries and strange encounters
There is so much you can do in twenty four hours
See for yourself unless you want to be a doubter
This place by the ocean has some of the best chowder
Classic like "Wallace and Grommit in the wrong trousers"
Nocturnal hunters and night prowlers
Wolves are quite the growlers and howlers
By black holes matter being devoured
That which does not can ouster
I always like rain and thunder showers
Girl, of you I could not be prouder
I'll buy, now let's go get some sweet and sour
By: Dalton Ogletree
He gets up at 4 a.m, and puts on his ACU’s
And laces up his combat boots
He is my man, this is my life
For I am a soldiers wife
He means the world to me
He is my hero and who I want to be
When he is gone and I am all alone
I have a lot to shoulder
He is my man, he is a soldier
I miss him so much that inside I ache
Sometimes, I wonder if my heart will break
When I cry, I cry to myself, alone
I keep focused and charge ahead
All the while sleeping alone in our big cold bed
He is my husband, and I am his wife
I couldn’t be prouder of his chosen life
Even as I cry
When I kiss him goodbye
I know what he does, he does for us
To keep us safe and to sleep in peace through the night
It’s hard to not hold him or kiss him goodnight
To not hear I love you and it will be alright
It’s so hard living here on my own
But I know that he will be coming home
I cry myself to sleep each and every night
All the while knowing that he may have to fight
Defending our freedom
In some far away land
I know we will make it, because we are meant to be
I feel it deep down inside when he says he loves me
I think of him every moment of every day
And I know he is thinking of me when he is away
He is my man, this is my life
For I am a soldiers wife.
I was minding my business, taking my time,
Ridin’ Ol’ Bess from the West Miller Mine
When all of a sudden, (weren’t nothing’ I did)
Bess started buckin’ and she hit the skids!
I was pitched off her back like a sack of no worth
To land near the meanest dang rattler on earth!
His tounge was a-flickin’, tasting the air,
His eyes clouded over, like a blind man’s that pair.
He was longer than Bess with a full twelve-inch girth,
My mettle dissolved to a pitiful dearth.
His head raised up proud, his tail even prouder
And that buzz just kept getting louder and louder!
His mien was aggressive and I was a wreck
So I pulled out my shooter and aimed for the neck!
Now I hate killing creatures; God’s watchin’ and all,
But he had my number and was dialin’ the call.
His head is still there, by the side of the trail
But I took the rest home, even that tail!
His meat fed me supper, yep, top o’ the line.
His hide and those rattles? A hat-band so fine!
There are people in your life who will help to make you strong.
The ones that are dead weight, well they simply don’t belong.
We are entitled to our rights, never take it on the chin.
It might be time to clean that porch, so let the sweeping now begin.
Ignorance can be bliss, if you’re not the one who’s under fire.
Color should never matter, nor should your sexual desire.
If you choose to harm my child, in my heart you will be dead.
That is my final answer, I’ve already made my bed.
My youngest son is gay and he makes me very proud!
I’ll stand on any rooftop and shout that very loud.
If you judge a person by their character and the content of their heart.
There would never be a line to draw that keeps us all apart.
I love this brave young man who is my youngest son.
He is the brother of my oldest boy and they’ve kept us on the run.
I couldn’t be any prouder, of the men they are today.
I love you both with all my heart and it will always be that way!
"The voices howl in the dark frightens even the brave."
Quote by poet
Voices, do you hear them in the pitch dark.
They drum from pressure within moist cold wind.
It's exfoliating and forced whirlwind,
Abstract heated amorous meadowlark.
Autumn leaves move violently battered.
Dancing, blind moving incoherent wave,
Surrendering to errant void then save,
In, under midair wheaten and scattered.
The voices in the wind echo louder.
Rose pedals flow upward like flaming tongues.
Rumbling voices which weave the ladder's rungs
Blow a slight prouder, dalliance power.
Oh my today is the day
Our little D graduates today
You are not only oh so smart
You are the one with the biggest heart
As you walk across that big stage
You are about to turn a very big page
13 years just flashes right by
As it's time for this chapter to say goodbye
Even though you are about to go
There is one thing for sure that you need to know
The love a Dad has for his daughter is beyond the stars
I am so blessed God choose you to be who you are
Just remember this is not the end
It is where your life journey is about to begin
I could not be any prouder of you
As you head off to college at LMU
Oh captain,our captain,
How much us Yankees will miss you so.
20 years You gave us,
Without any complaints to a friend or foe.
You gained our love and trust,
Your surely and forever have our respect,
That no other player will every deflect.
A true Yankee through and through....
We couldnt be prouder,
You was always our fighter.
So calm and relaxed was you,with every
Game you showed how much you did care,
Even if you have left the plate your presence
Will always be felt there.
What more is there to say,
We know you went out your way.
I was attracted to her troubles, her artful exits,
her love was terrible, she hurt me in all the right ways,
hides behind the tall tree of my inspiration
whistling like a playful truth easy to please & difficult to release,
says goodbye kindly & curiously as a dream departing under duress,
just when you thought she'd tell you the password to Heaven
she would scamper away as shewolf suspicious of where she lay
or prowling on the scent of prey,
I fell in love with how she fought mistrust and 'bad odds'
teaching me that patience often rests on hurtful wisdom,
but when this woman chooses to gallop into the gallery of my growth
wild and willfully, I quickly comprehend a true friend,
promises and time need not be bartered for
since emotions and experience are the blessings of our bond,
as my Poet Girl grows stronger, sings louder, strides prouder
I ponder happily that the only timepiece the Cosmos holds
is the connection of beating hearts, the affection of unjudging reception,
and now, above the melee of my routine I see her blazing towards me again
not falling near, rather raising me to that innocent & infallible trail
where tears become diamonds & frigidity faints in the arms of faith,
her love is no longer so terrible, more so terrific as temptation,
however, she continues to sharpen her blade on the bone of my breastplate,
and I resist not the mercy of her dangerous kiss -
J.A.B.
When I was a mere lad, my Dad always cut my hair,
But as I reached my teens and became much more debonair,
To the bald-headed barber I whizzed in my old hometown,
Seated myself in his chair and plopped my quarter down!
I had never been a paying client at a barber shop before,
So I asked about that red, white and blue pole spinning by the door.
Said he, "It was a sign for barbers doing surgery in the olden day!"
At that I gulped, almost choked and turned a sickly gray!
Done with my hair, he'd shave my neck and brush on lots of powder,
And liberally douse my scalp with Vitalis - I couldn't have been prouder!
His shop reeked of pungent oils and stale tobacco smoke,
It was all I could do to sit there, trying to stifle a choke!
The town barber shop was a place to gossip and hear inane babble,
And was the local hangout for ne'er-do-wells and other idle rabble.
The risque banter invading my naive and delicate ears,
Gave me an education far beyond my tender years!
The tales I heard were of the local women, booze and such.
Though I had some inkling, I didn't understand all that much!
Had my dear devout Mother known what transpired there,
I suspect she would've insisted that Dad continue to clip my hair!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The names of success spoken slowly, enunciated with near perfection.
Begetters delighted while warriors of knowledge even prouder.
Frame the object with that pride, etched in bold colors of quested victory.
Intended to render focus where future awaits with her breath of betterment.
Render the mortar board square, keeping the gown smooth as the silk it resembles.
Shutterbugs will capture that smile of a thousand future memories.
A feastful celebration shared in public display, consuming all thoughts of ineptness.
Success is now official along with all cheers for you - the graduate.
......................................................
Written: 5/18/2016
Type: Prose Poetry
Contest: Any Poem You Ever Penned
Contest Sponsor: Broken Wings
Placement: 10th Place
The cars pull up, the doorbell’s rung.
To a hugging welcome, in they come.
With gifts wrapped up and tied with bows
There is warm handshaking, more hello’s.
The men bring in some good red wine
That will go down nicely, when we dine.
We stand, at first, renewing friendship links
While the host is scurrying, pouring drinks.
Then into chairs, we sink to chat
About trips, and kids, and this and that.
Slowly, surely, we all get louder
Telling stories that make us prouder.
The hostess dashes, with some concern,
The oven’s smoking, the food might burn.
Then from the kitchen wafts a gorgeous smell
“The food is ready”, comes a welcome yell
To the table we slowly go.
Each place is marked; a name will show
Each guest where he should sit.
It’s carefully planned for a gourmet hit.
The meal that’s served is fit for a king.
Praise the cook we loudly sing.
The company’s good, with laughter more
Another highlight in memory’s store.
Coffee’s drunk, but they stay awhile.
The friendships great, with plenty a smile..
Time takes its toll, and they start to leave
But when they’re gone, it’s time to grieve.
There’s dirty cutlery, and plates to wash
If I were a Greek, I’d give them a bash.
Next day, of course, the phone line hums
Scores are settled, invites come.
It’s my turn now to enjoy a feast.
If the truth be known.
I’m a Party Beast.
I was sleeping and dreaming, silently screaming, while violently weeping And mildly feeling that I was honestly grieving I was quitely greeting my anxiety's breathing It was wildy eating at who I was... I could see through the mirrior he was frustrated Feeling devestated, felt isolated, feeled truly aggravated Did I mention the love and hatred upon his eyes Or even the soul teared through a genocide A gemini inside, but set aside he felt terrified But through the lies disguised in your mind He was ultimately petrified...It was you that was scarier then ever, even his barrier Now I'm flying high like a harrier, with you i'm more marrier Was it scary cause of your terror, or your character? See I truly miss you miss, you're a beautiful beautious Broken and brutal, but with you I see what beauty is I love it, cause you're so humorous, is it obvious? I'm operating this auto race Just for you, I'd be dominating...I'd be going pedal to the metal, just till it's settled I just want to win a medal, I'm feeling kind of dreadful I've even beaten my only devil, going crazy, am I mental? Nah, it's where I extract scratched tangets and you stare vast in past pamphlets And you have no answers for your last math's classes, within exams I see you vanishing You close your eyes and drift in planets'n'canvases, and you crash in crafted canyons That clash with granite and imagitive paniced bandits with a habit that granted An attached handprint that reflected my poetic languages They call us anguished animals, but I pass on my damages, on through these messages See I may look different with my clothes that are charred and almost carved off I'm scorching like dark hearts, and warped like barked bronze Can you see I was meant for journalling? I'll be discerning them, as they see me surfacing I'll just be surging in, and it's you that i'd prefer to bring even out of all these earth-a-lings I hope it's permenant, you showed me what my purpose is, I needed the encouragement It was a form of your subtle perfectness, is it courteous that you bring me nervousness? Right now, you got me prouder then, all my extended ends, it's pride from you that i'm conjuring in.... Your loves got me flying high in your turbulence, it's a superb inherent gift, I don't think I could picture it, It has me feeling one with the churches and all my burning urges end...
Another holiday has come to pass and I am no prouder to be an American than when it started.
What are these holidays for I ask myself?
Are they designed for the little man to feel like he’s getting a break from the monotony of
a humdrum workday. Rest him up and throw him back to the dogs or is it about big money. Seems everyone is having a sale or going out of business sale. These furniture stores go out of business more that a nickel bag crack seller on a Wednesday night on the Jersey Shore. Can you imagine working for one for these slime ball opertions? One day you got a job, the next day who knows. How does that conversation go?
“Hey listen Margaret, we are having another sale.”
“Oh no not another sale, is this a going out of business or and everything must go sale?
I haven’t seen my daughter in 5 years since that last everything must go sale. She wasn’t even suppose to be here for the love of Pete.”
“No, no nothing like that we are going out of business but will open again Monday. That thing with your daughter, well those Chinese’s people made us and offer we just couldn’t refuse, you understand.”
My other favorite is the 5 years no interest financing on everything in the store. They know you aren’t going to pay and that one day you’ll get hit up for 36% interest.
And for Christ Sakes where do they get the “actors” for these TV ads? Are they washed up **** stars that couldn’t make the grade or just some fat cats concubine that thinks she’s in the movies now? Look Elsie I am on TV…does that belt make me look fat? It ain’t the belt honey.
So goes another Labor Day/Memorial Day/Fourth of July/Presidents Day/ Martin Luther King Day/….it really cheapens America and what we stand for, and I for one am ready to end this downward slide into the bowels of America and say we combine them all into one big week, yeah Garage Sale Week. Now that’s an American tradition that has stood the test of time!