Best Rob Poems
Happy Father’s Day to my Late Son Rob
My son, my sweet son, you now are at rest.
Of all fathers my son, you were the best!
Your son emulates you the best he can.
You taught him how to become a great man.
Almost twenty years you shared with your wife,
With family love you lived a great life.
Organs you donate will help others live,
A legacy you unselfishly give.
I am proud of you son, as you take part,
Some fortunate soul will live with your heart.
You tried to live and put up a great fight.
As you depart and go into the light,
Your sisters will miss you, you helped each one.
You were a great brother, my precious son.
You were only with us forty four years.
You’ll be remembered with love not our tears.
June 1, 2021
I wish all you Father’s a very Happy Father’s Day!
*This poem was written for my late son Rob who
had a severe stroke and was pronounced brain dead on
May 29, 2021. He saved over 6 lives by donating his
organs. Rob leaves behind my eleven year old grandson
Brody, and his wife Akiko. I want to thank each of you
who prayed for my son to recover. Thank you all for your
kind condolences.The love sent from my poetic family has
helped me greatly.
My sister Susie loved picking her nose
To her chagrin her little finger froze
It was stuck so far
Doc used a crowbar
Finger up nose - not a ladylike pose!
Our Mother, in a fit of Pique
At Susie's antics with her Beak
Said, "Right my girl"
And in a whirl
Grounded Susie for a Week
Resenting her fate, in bed
Rebellion sparked inside her head
When all were asleep
She'd dress and creep
Though the window and escape instead
A branch near her window hung
Which to its foliage she clung
The branch was weak
And with a shriek
She fell into a pile of Dung
The house woke up only to find
Poor Susie in a dreadful Bind
She looked quite a mess
In her state of distress
That our Mother went out of her mind
"A School for young Ladies, I'll choose"
One, her wildness, I hope will defuse
And instil, at a pace,
Deportment and Grace
To refine the coarse ways of our Suz'
Packed off to be 'Finished' she went
Determined to never repent
Despite all opinions
It's just like 'St Trinians'
And for Susie, was quite an event
Susie boarded at ‘Saint Eloise’
It was there she got covered in fleas
Once she dived in a ditch
To be rid of that itch
Oh, you should see the state of her knees!
When in the first deportment class
Poor Susie fell straight on her ‘ass’
When she exposed her behind
The other girls were unkind
So Susie began passing gas
They had to open the windows and doors
Crawl about and move on all fours
To get rid of the smell
That came straight from hell
Staff told ‘Susie’ no more encores!
Her Classmates all thought it a Hoot
When she lit the gas that she'd shoot
She then vented a Storm
That Blew up her Dorm
Which got our poor Susie the Boot
She believed she should never have gone
From the ones she depended upon
With her Mission, complete
(And a Cork placed, discreet)
Susie's Home where she'll always belong.
20th January 2016
Collaboration J Allison and R Bettridge
I Saw God Rob the Poor Box
I saw God rob the poor box
take a beggar out to eat
two burgers and a coffee
a loaves and fishes feast.
I saw God in the alley
drape his coat around a bum
watched him walking slowly
on dark streets of lonely numb
saw Him in the playground
share his crackers with a friend.
I saw God on the battlefield
console an orphaned child
saw Him wipe her tears away
replace them with His own.
I saw Him on the subway
rise and let the tired sit.
Saw Him in the canned goods aisle
reach items on high shelves
saw the gratitude in those
who can’t do it for themselves.
I asked God what was going on
said “Hey, God, whassup!”
He smiled and said: “ just watching
my Angels growing up.”
John G. Lawless
4/14/2016
I saw God rob the poor box
take a beggar out to eat
two burgers and a coffee
a loaves and fishes feast.
I saw God in the alley
drape his coat around a bum
watched him walking slowly
on dark streets of lonely numb
saw Him in the playground
share his crackers with a friend.
I saw God on the battlefield
console an orphaned child
saw Him wipe her tears away
replace them with His own.
I saw Him on the subway
rise and let the tired sit.
Saw Him in the canned goods aisle
reach items on high shelves
saw the gratitude in those
who can’t do it for themselves.
I asked God what was going on
said “Hey, God, whassup!”
He smiled and said: “ just watching
my Angels growing up.”
John G. Lawless
4/14/2016
under the sink
the plumber
switches rings
Little Susie had peed her new pants
Such an unfortunate circumstance
In front of her mother
She blushed a red colour …
Then invented the ‘Wet knickers’ dance!
Mum's reaction to this was not cool
As Sue pranced around like a fool
To add to her woe
More started to flow
Down her leg and formed into a Pool
Susie knew right away, she was Toast
With her face turning pale as a ghost
When the Cork in her ass
Shot out with the gas
And Mother got blasted the most
Desperately needing a breath of fresh air
We ran out of the house in a state of despair
It is far from a joke
To splutter and choke
On a stench that melts noses and frizzles our hair
In disgrace, she stomped off to the shed
Where a cunning plan entered her head
Her gas mask condition
Needed stiff competition
So she's joined a Bad Ass Commune instead
Sue was accepted as one of the troupe
After she curdled Cow’s milk into soup
And once it was dark
She thought it a lark
To 'Blue Flame' her gas for the group
In a national contest for which she was keen
She entered to take on the best there has been
But to Susie’s surprise
They gave the Top Prize
To a bloke farting 'God Save The Queen'
'Porton Down' is off limits so no one can see
The 'Boffins' who work in white coats, secretly
MI6 sniffed around
And Susie was found
Then Pressed into service as their new WMD
Collaboration with Rob Bettridge
There are women who feel a strong need
To nag men until their ears bleed
In a war of attrition
With relentless petition
Is a cruel way to make men concede
Men wish for a life of peace
But get nagged by a tongue that won't cease
Men will just say
It's the female DNA
That must out in its need for release
We can’t help it; we just HAVE to nag
Guess some folks would call us 'an old hag'
But men get on our nerves
When you paw at our curves
Men should give up and wave the white flag
We can suffer from bad PMT,
Become ogres that men want to flee
We scream and we shout
Say we’ll throw you out
But for some reason you wont let us be
Better by far, we should try this next time
It's effective and will prove sublime
By wearing earplugs
In each of our lugs
We'll be laughing whilst nagging - in mime
Laughing together will lighten our day
It's a tonic to chase our problems away
For a really big smile
Can last a long while
And we'll both get along better that way
24th January 2016-01-24
Collaboration by Jan Allison and Rob Bettridge
Prescott Bush proved his moxie
as war-profiteer proxy
with brother Harriman
since shame can't bury them
when suggestions turn Nazi.
Rob played semi-professional rugby,
From when he was 4 until the age of 21,
When he got a serious spinal cord injury,
Whilst playing that rough game spun.
As part of his rehabilitation sessions,
At Rookwood Hospital, exists in Cardiff,
He played table tennis for his arms,
Which he continued thereafter, his quiff.
That was from 2005, but by ’11’s Euros,
He qualified for London’s Games 2012,
The Paras of tremendous meme flows,
About disability sport, now off the shelf.
But he left lonely and without a medal,
Which made him determined, craving,
So he increased the work and the mile,
He sweat each day, a medal engraving.
He was World No. 6 in 2012, not good,
For him, so he worked on consistency,
And became the Euro Champ good,
In Italy with singles and team tenancy.
In 2015 at the Euros again, in Vejle,
In Denmark, he did the same thing -
Topped the charts with his angle,
In both events - it was plain sailing.
Then, the major victory came in Rio,
The crowd erupted wildly at his win,
Because the tension had been audible,
When he’d wrangled to win gold vin.
There was a man named Rob Ford,
He ran Etobicoke Ward.
Now that he’s mayor,
He still can’t play fair,
Waging a political war.
Our whole fortune’s fee cannot pay,
For those pills you’ve put away.
Weight loss is a scam,
Your scale’s in a jam.
Just leave your office, okay?
Buses rarely have delays,
Just give Karen Stintz her way.
Underground is bad,
Makes us riders mad.
Just leave your office today!
“No bike lanes on roads!” you vow.
Same-sex marriage you’ll disallow.
Those rules you conceive,
Make you seem naïve.
Just leave your office. Right now!
Your platform promises more.
“Cut taxes!” “Build homes!” you swore.
Your dreams are unreal,
Your plans not ideal.
Come now, I’ll show you the door.
Hey readers, could you please let me know if you find this poem to be too offensive/what lines are particularly harsh in the comments below? Thanks!
(Because I'm a fan of Survivor)
All-star "player" Boston Rob
didn't win Survivor. Sob!
No, matter. . . he got fame and by his side,
the pretty one who holds the loot to be his bride.
For Nathan's Clerihew contest
Why People Rob Banks
By Elton Camp
Let’s say that I’m a robber and knock over a store
I might get a hundred bucks, but not likely more
Or I decide that I will mug some guy on the street
I never know when it’s a gun-toter I might meet
If I should so foolishly stick up the big box store
Then I wouldn’t be able to shop there anymore
And then, if I break into some rich dude’s place
Both a burglar alarm and a bad dog I might face
If robbing a bank I’m not taking any personal cash
It’s not likely anyone angrily against me will dash
The bank doesn’t want to risk its customers shot
There’ll be little or no resistance as likely as not
But to know the main reason doesn’t take a whiz
People rob banks since that’s where the money is
Meet Rob Ford.
A panda in this land.
The Mayor of Toronto.
A hero they have banned.
A servant of Toronto
and maybe the whole world.
A will as strong as iron.
A faith that has been furled.
A man who loves his country.
Who worked for greater good.
A Saint who smoked a crack pipe.
An average people's hood.
The leader of a city.
assaulted by the press;
Then kissed upon the lips.
when council was a mess.
A liar for our nation.
They cut him to the rib.
Exposing what is private.
The mayor had to fib.
Now rise up Mayor Ford.
Your wounds have all our names.
Your critics are of Hell
but your fans ignore the flames.
Your legacy is leaving you.
No council to administer.
But keep your faith as close to you
that one day your Prime Minister.
Good actor, yet Razzie Award winner, Rob Lowe,
was one of People Magazine’s “Most Beautiful” although
his hair he has dyed since the day
in his twenty-fourth year that he says he went grey!
A prime role was once offered Rob Lowe:
“Doctor McDreamy” on a hit show.
But he took on instead
two lame shows that went dead,
having stupidly let "West Wing" go!
In the 80’s a sex scandal plagued young Rob, yet
an Emmy for "West Wing" this comeback kid would get.
Also, his three-decade marriage has had no end!
This he attributes to marrying his best friend.
Sept 16, 2019
for Mark Toney's Clerimerick Couplets (Hybrid Form) Poetry Contest
Away back in time many centuries ago,
In the land that I live and know best,
Things were not quite so easy,
You struggled and life was a test,
A man would do all he had to,
Survival the name of the game,
Be it cheat, steal or murder,
Every mans rules were the same,
Rob Roy MacGregor's no exception,
Him and his Clan full of men,
Usually dealing in cattle,
They'd take them wherever and when,
They'd move them on for many a day,
Down through the hills and the glens,
Bedding down on sweet heather,
Shadowed by the great Scottish Bens,
They'd stop off at friendly wee homesteads,
Perhaps have a meal and a dram,
Maybe take up some shelter,
Till the weather was better and calm,
Leave a beast for the poor and the hungry,
For the Winter that's heading their way,
Not as bad as his reputation,
'A fine man MacGregor', they'd say,
Eventually getting to market,
They'd get the best price for their beasts,
Have a few days drinking in Stirling,
With wenches and having great feasts,
Then back through the hills,
And the glens they would go,
Stealing a beast here and there,
Rob Roy MacGregor and his Clan full of men,
When life was survival not fair....