Best Rogers Poems


Premium Member Mary Rogers

*Had to bring this one back. Like my Poe poem, this one follows me wherever I go. It is my favorite lyric that I've written thus far. It is loosely based on a real person and deals with the issues of mental illness and homelessness. To bring it up to date, a fresh audio was recorded this evening by none other than Thomas Woodward, who will readily admit that he can't bloody sing, though he takes a stab at it during the last stanza.

Couldn't pay the rent, could you Mary? 
Back out on the street, dearest Mary.
Winter's in the air/once a girl with pretty hair, 
And the days are shorter now, my sweet Mary. 

Where will you go, Mary Rogers?
Parks can be so cold, Mary Rogers. 
Out into the night/shadows everywhere a fright, 
(Tell me) where will you go, Mary Rogers?

Store clerk turned her head, will you Mary?
Run fast as you can, dearest Mary. 
Cops are on the way/daddy's calling you to play, 
And the gun you dropped they found, my sweet Mary. 

What will you do, Mary Rogers? 
Jail can be so cold, Mary Rogers. 
Throw away the key/pray to God on bended knee, 
(Tell me) what will you do Mary Rogers? 

Stranger took you in, did he Mary? 
Promised you the moon, dearest Mary.
Black eyes gave away/what an awful price to pay, 
And nobody held your hand, my sweet Mary. 

When will it end, Mary Rogers? 
Men can be so cold, Mary Rogers. 
Needles always lie/mommy's back home baking pie, 
(Tell me) when will it end, Mary Rogers? 

Slept under the bridge, did you Mary? 
Zero Fahrenheit, dearest Mary.
Peaceful dreams hold sway/fly across the Milky Way,
No more worries for the pain, my sweet Mary. 

When will we learn, Mary Rogers? 
People can be cold, Mary Rogers. 
Turn our heads away/it may be our child someday, 
(Tell me) when will we learn, Mary Rogers? 


Time to wake up now, won't you Mary? 
Paradise is here, dearest Mary. 
Old world passed away/it's a bright and lovely day, 
And the sun shines just for you, my sweet Mary.
© Tom Woody  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rogers, mental illness,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Mary Rogers - Now a Song


Couldn't pay the rent, could you Mary? 
Back out on the street, dearest Mary.
Winter's in the air/once a girl with pretty hair, 
And the days are shorter now, my sweet Mary. 

Where will you go, Mary Rogers?
Parks can be so cold, Mary Rogers. 
Out into the night/shadows everywhere a fright, 
(Tell me) where will you go, Mary Rogers?

Store clerk turned her head, will you Mary?
Run fast as you can, dearest Mary. 
Cops are on the way/daddy's calling you to play, 
And the gun you dropped they found, my sweet Mary. 

What will you do, Mary Rogers? 
Jail can be so cold, Mary Rogers. 
Throw away the key/pray to God on bended knee, 
(Tell me) what will you do Mary Rogers? 

Stranger took you in, did he Mary? 
Promised you the moon, dearest Mary.
Black eyes gave away/what an awful price to pay, 
And nobody held your hand, my sweet Mary. 

When will it end, Mary Rogers? 
Men can be so cold, Mary Rogers. 
Needles always lie/mommy's back home baking pie, 
(Tell me) when will it end, Mary Rogers? 

Slept under the bridge, did you Mary? 
Zero Fahrenheit, dearest Mary.
Peaceful dreams hold sway/fly across the Milky Way,
No more worries for the pain, my sweet Mary. 

When will we learn, Mary Rogers? 
People can be cold, Mary Rogers. 
Turn our heads away/it may be our child someday, 
(Tell me) when will we learn, Mary Rogers? 


Time to wake up now, won't you Mary? 
Paradise is here, dearest Mary. 
Old world passed away/it's a bright and lovely day, 
And the sun shines just for you, my sweet Mary
© Tom Woody  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rogers, abuse, addiction, hope,
Form: Lyric

Roy Rogers

center>ROY ROGERS

Roy Rogers on Trigger his horse
Was a regular tour de force
He made it his quest
To clean up the West
Then end with a love song of course

2nd May 2022
High Noon poetry contest
Sponsor - Joseph May
Categories: rogers, adventure,
Form: Limerick

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Hattie L Rogers 1844 - 1917

Hattie L. Rogers

1844 – 1917


The playing cards of life are a stacked deck.
As soon as you begin to breathe
You begin to die and disintegrate.
All of the winners in life  
Eventually end up the losers.
You enter this Big House with nothing.
Nothing but a cracked soul, a cursed heart
And that stacked deck of crooked playing cards.
Your destiny, my friends, lies in the dust.
So I figured early on, like King Solomon, 
That there is no use; it is all futile and hopeless at best.
When I came to this sad realization 
About life on this staggering planet,
I decided the only worthwhile meaning in living
Is in finding true happiness,
Even in the midst of hopeless despair.
Even in the midst of this mocking gaping graveyard
That lusts for flesh and blood
Like Odysseus’ giant with the one eye
Like a carnivorous Scylla, hiding high up in its dark perch,
Up there in the insidious shadows,
Awaiting another human meal at noontide.
So, what happiness did I find in my 73 years?
Years that seemed to fly by like a hummingbird in April.
I found ineffable joy
In the phenomenal nativity of my twin boys.
Found indescribable ecstasy 
In the tender embrace of my loving husband,
Found incomparable elation
In the survival of my children and grandchildren.
Living descendants, you are always welcome to loiter at my grave.
Bring a pack of cards though.
I am always up for a new ante.
Categories: rogers, death,
Form: Epitaph

Premium Member James Mckee Rogers 1836 - 1900

James McKee Rogers

1836 – 1900


I offer up this epitaph as an ode instead,
An ode of love, affection and gratitude
To Whittier, my true home away from my one true home.
I dedicate this plain and humble song
To finding this paradise in the mustard fields
To finding peace and serenity in these kindly hills here,
Hills shaded by a thousand trees
In truth, trees planted for purposes unstated and unspoken,
Trees used for hiding the human follies and frolics 
Of my brothers and sisters in the faith
Acts of hidden intimacies not seen by the eyes of the Quaker elders.
My friends, you cannot imagine the beauty of the sunrise
Here in my beloved Whittier
The erect beauty of one particular sunrise
On a summer’s morning in 1889.
I remember Hattie and me riding double in the heights
Scanning the far-away Pacific blue
Scanning the infinite translucence of a million heartbeats. 
Down, down the ever-spreading, ever-descending landscape.
Up there in the heights we found a special magic, 
Found the crash of cymbals and the bang of a thousand drums!
Found the flight of a thousand eagles and
The stampede of a hundred wild horses!
And so my friends, and
To Whittier, I say adieu!
Adieu and goodbye to a life of repeating days and nights
Of forgotten repeating conversations 
With dozens of old friends now dead and gone.
The worms of Clark Cemetery know them all
Know of the hidden intimacies not seen by the living.
They have found propitiation for the sins of mankind.
Categories: rogers, death,
Form: Epitaph

Premium Member Kenny Rogers

It happened again this afternoon
A lady requested my autograph
Mistaking me for Kenny Rogers
That sure gave me a great big laugh

If only I had Kenny's money
I'd be chuckling all the way to the bank
Right now I'm avoiding all my creditors
My bank account's coming up blank

Perhaps I'll become a male prostitute
An easy way to make a few bucks
Still look pretty good for a dude my age
Though I sometimes waddle like a duck

But perhaps that's not for this old guy
My morals are quite high you know
It's extremely rare when I'm at the beach
For any of my white bits to show

Guess I'll continue this sneaky charade
Sign Kenny on my restaurant checks
Why not, I might as well take advantage
Of our amazing similarities, by heck!

© Jack Ellison 2012
Categories: rogers, funny, me,
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Steven Rogers - Aka Captain American

As a comic book artist, his look

was quite frail until Rogers then took

a powerful serum.

Bad fellows now fear him.

He fights crime now. No writing a book!


May 31, 2022 
for Robert James Liguori's  Captain America Poetry Contest
Categories: rogers, character,
Form: Limerick

The Jolly Rogers

The waves break upon the bow as the wind gust fills the sails.
The Jolly Rogers flies above and the sailors tell their tales.
When suddenly a ship is spotted exactly where their course is plotted.
The sailors scramble to man their guns, as thy sky is ablaze with the setting sun.
The tension builds as the ships converge.
The guns open up and the decks are purged.
Men cross from ship to ship, the swords clash and the muskets whip.
Soon the battle has been won almost as soon as it had begun.
The pirates cheered and threw their hats, then claimed their booty from the hold like rats.
The beaten crew was set adrift and the cannons finished the broken ship.
Categories: rogers, adventure,
Form: Epic

Premium Member Shout Out To Mister Rogers

Fifty-one years ago, today, on September 21, 1967, Kindness appeared in the form of Fred McFeely Rogers, with his neighborhood of make-believe.  We allowed him to enter our homes and support us in encouraging our children, building in them a strong sense of self and acceptance of others.  Parents who took time to share the experience were shown the power of kindness and the beneficial effect it could have on their children's development, both physically and mentally.  Fred Rogers received the Presidential Medal of Freedom, 40 honorary degrees, and a Peabody Award, in addition to other honors.  The Smithsonian Institution displays one of his trademark sweaters as a "Treasure of American History."  Fred Rogers died on February 27, 2003, at the age of 74. 

sure as the sun’s warmth
your kindness was felt by all…
you were our neighbor




09/21/2018
© Mark Toney  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rogers, children, education, encouraging, inspiration,
Form: Haibun

The Roy Rogers Range

Oh, I wish that this old world
Was like the Roy Rogers’ range—
Where every boy and girl
Didn’t have to view folks strange.

It used to be safe outside—
All the children could go play—
But now they worry and hide
In their homes both night and day.

Seems there’s just too many ways
That our kids can now be harmed—
They’ve missed their innocent days—
Their lives are no longer charmed. 

We played all day with no care—
Didn’t know ‘bout an upper—
Ball games left no time to spare,
Till mom’s called us to supper.

Yes, those were different times, 
When sex was not all we thought—
And news was not just more crimes—
What kind of world have we got?

I wish we could relive days
When Roy Rogers kept us straight—
Before things became a maze
Of drugs, thugs and war and hate.    

I wish we did not grow up
To a world that’s now so strange—
And death drank not of our cup,
Like on a Roy Rogers’ range.
© Glen Enloe  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rogers, childhood, cowboy-western, introspection, nostalgia,
Form: Cowboy Poetry

My Will Rogers Poem

My Will Rogers Poem

Now figure out why I named it that.

Have heard there can be certain degrees
Of what some people may call to appease
And things like paths of least resistance
Coffee and cream combined at a constant consistence.

Substances not pure are considered an alloyed
With an idea while inebriated have often toyed
What would you think should be some sequel
To going on diet after eating many beaks full.

As on you spurred realizing it had occurred
Instead of fine food ended up finding a word
And before word was eaten up and all gone
It for a while you had decided to chew on.

If you tried hard and elected to be energetic
Coming to conclusion poem was pathetic
After shooting and spreading around the dung 
Inserted sharp dagger to replace your tongue.

Now out in the meadow when you hear larks
Sounding like they are making cutting remarks
And probably, hopefully with Republican consent
They can allow complainer to run for President.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran 

You need a category called sarcastic.
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rogers, humorous,
Form: Couplet

Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire

GINGER ROGERS AND FRED ASTAIRE

If Jesus Christ were a dancer,
He would have danced like Fred Astaire
around the room with Ginger Rogers.
He'd have danced on the air with Ginger
because he was a gentleman,
and his passion was like the shepherd boy
on the Grecian Urn that Keats wrote about
who was forever perpetually young and loving;
forever wrapped in a dream-like illusion
from which he never awakened.
Fred tapped his hat on his shoe
and bounced it back on his head
with the tip of his cane.
He glided like a gazelle.
He moved like God Himself
and Ginger, his Goddess,
was never more beautiful
than when she reflected
all the loveliness and innocence
of womanhood; unattainable,
yet cherished like the maiden
etched on the Grecian Urn.

Janet Marie Bingham
Categories: rogers, art, beautiful, cute love,
Form: Prose Poetry

More Will Rogers Philosophy

More Will Rogers Philosophy
(Are all quarrels domestic ones?)

If in formation found flying over a diary
We sincerely thing you are an aviary
And if a quarrel you may try to develop
Likely a domestic around you will envelope.

When wanting to be fancy free and foot loose
Shoe which was too big is a perfect excuse
Or maybe senses are finally coming around
And correct political party is now found.

What if people may be wearing a big broach
Having fun riding around in a fancy coach
Driven by Valiant who thinks he is a prince
No longer friend due to a false pretense.
(Brian Williams and football quarterbacks.)

Can you imagine who would want to care
If some fine football lacks sufficient air
And from all facts we recently understand
It was all because he had a little hand.

So should you actually be a social extremist?
Who wants to become a world supremist
Or loyal super duper pooper poetry souper
In a poem teaching a cat how to purr.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rogers, analogy, humorous, poetry,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Kenny Rogers

It happened again this afternoon
A lady requested my autograph
Mistaking me for Kenny Rogers
Sure gave me a great big laugh

If only I had Kenny's money
I'd be chuckling all the way to the bank
Right now I'm avoiding all my creditors
My bank account's coming up blank

Perhaps I'll become a male prostitute
An easy way to make a few bucks
Still look pretty good for a dude my age
Though I sometimes waddle like a duck

But perhaps that's not for this old guy
My morals are quite high you know
It's extremely rare when I'm at the beach
For any of my white bits to show

Guess I'll continue this sneaky charade
Sign Kenny on my restaurant checks
Why not, I might as well take advantage
Of our amazing similarities, by heck!

© Jack Ellison 2014


A re-broadcast
Categories: rogers, fantasy,
Form: Quatrain

Susie Rogers

Susie was inspired by the Beijing Paralympics, 
To pursue her talent at swimming, to train hard, 
So she was classified as an S7, deformed limbs,
And won three medals in London, one in Rio. 

She has a BA in languages from Newcastle, 
Which she uses in her British Council work,
And first appeared in Berlin city at the Euros,
In Germany’s 2011 IPC Championships.

In London she won freestyle bronze 100m, 
Another bronze for the 400 metres freestyle,
And yet another bronze for the 4x100m relay, 
Also free - it’s where you do the front crawl. 

In the French city of Montreal in Canada, 
Quebec, Susie secured 1 gold and 4 silvers, 
Gold for the 4x100m freestyle relay 34pts,
Silvers for 50, 100, 400 free and for 50 fly. 

In 2014 in Eindhoven in the Netherlands, 
Susie took five golds: the 50m butterfly,
The 50, 100 and the 400 metres freestyle,  
And another for the 100m freestyle relay.

Then in Glasgow at the IPC Worlds 2015,
Susie won a gold 4x100m medley relay,
Also a bronze for the 100 metres freestyle,
So Funchal 2016 (Euros) came naturally. 

In Funchal which exists on Madeira island,
Susie took five golds: the 50 metres butterfly,
The 50m, the 100m and the 400m freestyle,
And another for the medley relay, the 100m.

So in Rio she rejoiced when she won gold,
In the 50m butterfly in a time of 35.07 secs;
She could not believe it because she’s 33,
And intended to retire after London 2012.
Categories: rogers, sports, strength, water,
Form: Blank verse
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