Best Punches Poems
From my editor:
“I’ll call you Deadline Devonshire, a nickname born
Your tombstone will read, ‘She was never late before’”
From my sister:
“I’ll take claim to the gene pool’s beauty and brains
You can take credit for writing verse that’s inane”
From my friend:
“You always leave home early for fear of getting lost
Please buy a GPS, regardless of the cost”
From my priest:
“Reincarnation’s bunk; you were never Cleopatra
Did you have to adopt ‘been there, done that’ as a mantra?”
From my counselor:
“You spend too many hours consumed by introspection
No matter what you do, you’ll never reach perfection”
From my director:
“Good grief, how hard can it be to exit stage right?
Are you standing there waiting for a green light?”
From my coach:
“Don’t hold that hockey stick so high in the air
You look like you’re out hunting for Yogi the Bear”
From my teacher:
“You seem obsessed with making everything rhyme
To the heights of great poetry, you’ll never climb”
From me:
“I guess I’ll just have to accept my imperfection
Writing this poem? Too much self-reflection”
ROLLING WITH THE PUNCHES
one true constant in life we all
know too well is
change
just when you love that your days form
patterns, things grow
strange
circumstances change in split seconds
accidently they
rearrange
we have to roll with the punches
adjust , accept and
sustain
go with the flow, try not to control
God has a plan to
maintain
a bend in the road is not the
end of the road
unless
you fail to make the
turn
© Kim van Breda—April 2014
"Let me draw your bath, dear Grace!"
(the space heater's perched upon the rim,
and there's hydrochloric acid, just in case!)
My .45 revolver, my machete from Trelew
will come in very handy
if the other two exigencies fall through!
I think I've thought of everything
except to kill that creep you slept with,
may he rot in Hades, damn his eyes!
Now the the only thing remaining,
harlot, bane of my existence,
is my holler of delight at your demise!
"Let me draw your bath, Sweet Face!"
(the space heater's perched upon the rim,
with some hydrochloric acid, just in case.)
My .45 revolver, my machete from Trelew
will come in very handy, lest
the other two exigencies fall through.
I think I've thought of everything
except that creep you slept with,
I'll sneak up, and take him by surprise!
Now the the only thing remaining,
harlot, bane of my existence,
is my holler of delight at your demise!
TOTALLY tongue-in-cheek! Inspired by a character in Dylan Thomas' "Under Milk Wood" who plotted to poison his wife. It was all in his mind, as is the case with my character here.
"Let me draw your bath, dear Grace!"
(the space heater's perched upon the rim,
and there's hydrochloric acid, just in case!)
My .45 revolver, my machete from Trelew
will come in very handy
should the other two exigencies fall through!
I think I've thought of everything
except that creep you slept with,
he will rot in Hades, damn his eyes!
Now the the only thing remaining,
harlot, bane of my existence,
is my holler of delight at your demise!
The last thing my doctor said to me as I walked out the door
Remember you’re not twenty, dear you’re almost seventy-four
As I turned to leave I thought to myself it won’t be such a chore
My sister and her cat moved first, I had a week, no more…
But the next day I got the call, there’d be no help for me
My help left town, my best friends too, my sister twisted her knee
So, for a week I pushed and pulled, packed all that I could see
The movers came but overbooked, so in a rush they’d be!
The doctor’s words rang in my ears, I said, I can do it all
But in the last moment with box in hand, I crashed into a wall
I cracked a rib, it took my breath, but at least I did not fall
Bruised and battered a week has passed and life rises to the call…
Through the pain there came a voice, said your tale needs to be penned
I’m settling in and in this week, I’ve made a special friend…
While quietly sitting on the couch, looking out one sunny day
The cutest little squirrel stopped by, said “This is where I stay.”
He ate his nut and laid belly down, it was too hot to play
Had a quick nap, said his goodbye, then he went on his way…
I like this place, I’ll settle soon, and once more pick up my pen
With time and lots of pain killers I will actually breathe again!
Can't cure the ills of the world, there's good days and there's bad
Best we can do is roll with punches, listen to this experienced lad
Been around many blocks
Had a few knocks
But all in all, it's been better than average, I might add
Pull no punches
Game no Thrones
Salt your favorite food less and less
Undress not in the company of others
unless of course you plan on swimming
And do it then whilst undercover or
in a bolted clock room closet
Never let or give all your very best
secrets away
Maybe keep them well and truly hidden
for another day or moment in time far
more relevant than this
And when you kiss do it with
your eyes wide closed
And if they are not your lover stroke
partner be that rather on the cheek
forehead or nose
So as to not russel to many feathers
and end up sleeping downstairs on
the couch
Even if you don't really mind as it feels
to you much like camping and you can
watch what you want on t.v without the
fear of interruption
Make take and pack yourself lunch
once in a while don't always buy it
from a roadside van or greasy spoon
cafe
Sometimes follow your heart and stick
with your first initial choice and listen
to what your intuition tells you
And I am not saying everything will
be plain sailing and absolutely peachy
in regards to life
But whenever is it or was it supposed
or you told it will be and just exactly
who said that and the reason why
Because that sounds like something
someone would say in order to simply
just placate you
Rather than promise to tell you the
hole truth and nothing but the truth
So help me God
With a lie instead
Pull no punches
Game no Thrones
When it comes to dealing with grown
up adults
As apposed to young children
E-very
M-ove
M-ade
A-nd
N-onstop
U-ppercut
E-mphatically
L-et
P-unches
A-ttack
C-hin
Q-uickly
U-sing
I-ntellect
A-gainst
O-pponent
Topic: Birthday of Senator Emmanuel D. Pacquiao (December 17)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
R-oll with the punches,
O-utsmart the situation;
L-ife changes constantly,
L-etting you get up, not
Y-awn.
D-espite the odds be brave enough,
E-vil deeds can't put you down;
L-ittle breakthrough truly brings
I-mmeasurable result that you've found.
Z-est and zeal dwell in your heart, aiming to give sweet success;
O-nly the Lord God's guidance can make you roll with the punches.
You're throwing one set of punches
Barely acting on your hunches.
You can't be lucky with left hooks.
They'll, sure, connect them: Boxer Crooks:
Perhaps, then, stop to at you grin
Like Spinks had at Homes for a win...
The point: stop launching lame attacks
Or you watch out as your skull cracks:
In Boxing, the Dreamer Joseph
Should questions ask starting with 'if ...?'
The Ring Business: Dangerous sport;
Killers rarely appeared in court...
With the colors of that sunset,
a slight shiver hits my bloodstream.
Following darkness like a dream,
facing fiends I am the true threat.
Do I speak the truth? Place your bet.
Skill feeds on punches and distress.
The best version reigns I confess,
my sincere grin greets each new foe.
Never one to walk on tip toe,
lethal is my match I’m fearless.
"Let me draw your bath, Sweet Face!"
(the space heater's perched upon the rim,
with some hydrochloric acid, just in case.)
My .45 revolver, my machete from Trelew
will come in very handy, lest
the other two exigencies fall through.
I think I've thought of everything
except that creep you slept with,
I'll sneak up, and take him by surprise!
Now the the only thing remaining,
harlot, bane of my existence,
is my holler of delight at your demise!
"Let me draw your bath, dear Grace!"
(the space heater's perched upon the rim,
and there's hydrochloric acid, just in case!)
My .45 revolver, my machete from Trelew
will come in very handy
if the other two exigencies fall through!
I think I've thought of everything
except to kill that creep you slept with,
may he rot in Hades, damn his eyes!
Now the the only thing remaining,
harlot, bane of my existence,
is my holler of delight at your demise!
A time you must exploit
To have things for him spoilt;
To stop The Cynical,
His knockout ‘Technical’…
Let him drink more punches
And keep making bunches;
Soon, The guy you would waste
And His Hopeless Case rest…
More jabs to his soft head
To soon help him see Red…
He’d be hating himself
And you laughing yourself
You take the Center Stage
And he shall be All Rage;
Another Jaw Breaker
A New Marriage Wrecker
Your left hook in Round Four
To send him down the floor
Upper-Cut Heart-Stopper
Makes him Dead Grasshopper.