Best Real Mccoy Poems
The Real McCoy
Androids Humanoid- Robotic Robots
Feel them- touch them- real life fembots
Soulless secretions a monster metallic
A copy completion approaching organic
Interacting in all moods they are set to please
Sub servant or vampish programmed to tease
Favoured by lust as love turns into dust
A bodacious bust that someday will rust
Providing human like- company for men
Discard them-Leave them- again and again
Love in a box the new carnal cosmetic clocks
She shakes and she rocks and even dirty talks
Hearts made of steel- don’t get broken
Yours for the picking- Destiny has spoken
She strikes a pose as you take off her clothes
No need for a rose as you undress and expose
Alas for us ladies the future is bleak
Emotions are replaced- no more to speak
A disheartened Delilah a gratifying Lady Godiva
Unleashing a metal messiah a pandemic pariah.
Aug.24.2017
Collab with a dear friend from down under...(((Maria Williams)))
Thank you, Maria, for your exchange of words and poetic dance...it was great fun to collab with you...let's do it again soon...
He walked outside the mirror of
solitude,
And greeted with the purest of
stares.
Confused by this clairvoyant twin, my
fearful color was intact;
I awaited his response, and he spoke in familiar
tongue these following passions.
He spoke of that Sagittarius moon he
celebrates,
when the 22nd day presents itself.
In earlier episodes of himself,
he continuously advanced through blind
hallways,
with no afterthought of the internal flame,
potentially burning in his honor.
He revealed sketches of himself, that await
discovery.
The silent preacher remains his
title,
yet with every curious ear,
his history is awarded audible.
He became an unwritten author a
lifetime ago,
a sigh of relief was expressed,
as he became every metaphor,
thereby regaining those thoughts
of yesterday.
He still dreams of that fatherly
silhouette.
A favorite thought of tomorrow,
to borrow a voice, from this male
influence,
now absent from land.
The thought of plural skies visits him
constantly,
he’s never forgotten the idea of unity,
although on occasion,
it’s faded portrait appears fictional.
He awaits his inspiration in
reality.
Those white walls that surround him in
military stance,
are assumed to be his only company.
However, he’s confident in his legacy, found in
similar souls.
After exposing this identity of truth, he felt
completed,
I too, became a turning stone.
Before retreating, I asked for the word, that
complimented his image,
He simply thought Jiril.
There was an American laddie named McCoy,
his inventions the steam locomotives joy,
although the powers to be drank to his health,
made sure he didn’t share in their wealth.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Folding crumpled dreams into paper boats:
you launch them upon a river of tears.
And following the route anger promotes:
you watch as the last of them disappears.
It's time for you to gather up your thoughts
and allow doubts and fears to drift away.
Go ahead and cry; humans aren't robots:
we suffer anxiety every day.
Confetti the wind with tomorrow's dreams,
and encourage them to take wing and fly.
For change is not as scary as it seems,
and the truth's better than living a lie.
There's no future in being someone's toy:
unlike lust, love is the real McCoy.
He's a man of an unforgetting mind. He's a gentleman, caring, and kind. He doesn't rush but takes his time. Oh, did I mention he is a friend of mine? He's a man of truth, unpretentious to the bone. He looks you in the eye, making you feel at home. His heart's door remains open no matter how far you've roamed, and in no time at all, he'll make you feel like you really belong.
Did I mention that he has a photostatic memory? He never forgets but seals you in his own book of history. Twenty-five years ago, I met this giant of a man, and it did not take long for me to become a fan.
Like a surfer beaten by the waves, I was driven to shore by a very high tide. I was like a hitch-hiker running tired and looking for someplace to hide. With compassion in his eyes, he pulled over close to my side. He came along just in time, said hello, and gave me a ride.
Did I mention that he greeted my young son and called him Governor? Why I tell you no lie, he is the Real McCoy like no other.
04132018FBPSContest,New Poems Only2 About Friendship, Emile Pinet Inspired by A friend, LB
Bluebells carpeting a shaded wood.
Reading a well written book.
A live band playing all their hits.
all bring joy, The real McCoy.
Holidays in far off lands.
Making party plans .
Meeting up with the one you love.
These all bring joy, The real McCoy
A babe in arms.
A puppy dog.
A kitten with a ball of string.
Simple joys, The real McCoy
A winning bet.
A nice pay rise.
A lottery winning line.
Its all true joy, The real McCoy
No more wars.
Or politics.
Just living life for life's sake
This is joy, The real McCoy
This world is full war and strife
Ignore it live your life
Let others stress and scream and shout
I'm just going to enjoy this life
Signed Mr R McCoy ***
Can remember an ember from being a boy
Off for a trundle little me just a bundle of joy
Dream I am Roy of the Rovers or Rob Roy
Admit never did behave like Lord Fauntleroy
More up for a caper than being a paperboy
Dressing up always more Indian than cowboy
More bow and arrow shun the gun not my toy
Messing up older a bit bolder got first playboy
Each page teenage hormones rage their ploy
Confessing at some stage wore dodgy corduroy
Not a fave gave colder shoulder to sage Tolstoy
More plot thickens heart quickens Dickens envoy
Who's ever told sold better tales of the hoi polloi
Artful dodger that insightful and spriteful decoy
Delightful a bold cheeky and sneaky barrow boy
BUT
Liars & deniers stoking fires while we're choking annoy
Pariahs empires of desires requires knaves to employ
Craves those culture vulture raves which then destroy
Waves stroking cage of wage slaves to graves deploy
Don’t subscribe to tribe’s lust it must just surely cloy
Paths to Mars paves all caves in as did for Helen of Troy
SO
Won’t snaffle the health raffle... folks selling saveloy?
Or crickey chat to that spiky pikey prat yelling “Oi Oi”
We maybe all at sea but lets believe land’s nearly ahoy
Street food snack some heat... pak choi chilli and soy
Suss don’t ever be coy telling us what you dearly enjoy
The fuzzy warmth you feel clearly is the real deal mccoy
True birthday treat got to finally eat yearly at the Savoy
If beset then really never forget the reset for regret JOY