Best Roll Poems
The grass
alas
is shorn
like corn
the dew
eschews
forlorn
this morn
the crowd
avowed
the ball
and all
then groans
and moans
clubs thrown
are known.
Embued
and hued
the words
like swords
wrong swing
the sting
bad lie
too high
the squeeze
on knees
in pleas?
to seize
the gold
and hold
glory
story
though droll
their goal
control
cajole
that ball
to fall
or roll
in hole
August 22,2022
For Brian Strand's Premiere Choice Contest
FIRST PLACE TROPhy!
POEM OF THE WEEK!
They broke the news
to me today
That my friend - who loved rock and roll
had left this mortal coil
We used to burst into song
when we saw each other
He loved screaming guitars
and played one himself
He died in his forties
He wasn't watching his health carefully
which is something we all should do
I remember the times
he shared his food with me
He was generous in that way
My rock and roll friend is gone
Now I'll have to sing metal tunes by myself
We all we face the grim reaper
but his passing came too soon, too soon
I will think of him
When I hear rock and roll from my radio
His memory will live on with his friends and loved ones
Another rocker gone....
How easily the words roll off my tongue
when decisions become too hard to make.
Even then, I only admit them to myself.
Sometimes I get confused, indecisive,
and hesitate in moments filled with doubt.
If only I had more confidence in myself
I would trust my voice not to stutter,
and maybe my heart wouldn't flutter
when you come so near to me.
Sometimes I turn and walk away
instead of smiling when I feel you there.
Sometimes I wonder
if there could ever be a you and me..
If only I could get past being so shy
Maybe, just once, I could look you in the eye
instead of lowering my head and walking by.
Maybe my life wouldn't seem so bleak.
If only I had the courage to stop in the hall
and find something to talk about.
Am I weak? Sometimes, I am.
If only, maybe, sometimes, and I'll add 'what if,'
I admit I use them as lame excuses.
my thoughts are profuse, and cluttered
with the 'what ifs' I only dream about.
I believe my alibis are lies,
but what if I remove the mask I wear
to hide the things I'd rather not see?
Maybe then I'd be more content with life.
If only my pounding heart remained silent
long enough to rid me of this fear.
Maybe I'd find the courage to be free
so you could see the real me.
If only...
August 4, 2020
Contest by Silent One
If only, maybe, sometimes
My mind has taken off for Neverland,
I am hanging on by a cobweb,
It is bumping me against Venus
and has dragged me up through a black hole
or two. I barely dodge a couple of rocket-spinning- asteroids.
4:11 a.m.
I am screaming, “Slow down! Stop! Please stop!”
But she is on a roll. This is her fourth or fifth poem,
and all I have contributed is loud snoring.
I jump out of bed and head toward the kitchen,
making the dog angry, for she has to now fight her
way out of the covers I tossed on her.
Coffee with hot chocolate and tons of sugar first
if I am to make any sense out of this.
Ouch!
My imagination station pinches me on the Petootsie.
“We do not have time for coffee!” She shrieks at me.
Oh, great. It is Trixie, my muse,
and she is obviously in full angry drill sergeant
form today. I hate it when she learns it is a snow day the night before.
I pour my coffee combination, grab a cookie and head for
the computer where my hands begin to type, pleasing her.
These traitors are Trixie’s minions.
She sits alone..
Everyone has said their final goodbyes
To her husband of sixty some years
Her seven children have never known
Or at least never mentioned..
How she never smiled
Just day to day
Did her job
Like the old man said
Woman..
Bring me my......
Now there across the room
The forbidden..
His roll top desk
Head always hung low
Eyes never meeting his
She rises
Lifts her head
Approaches defiantly
Rolls back the heavy top
She's dusted a million times
She touches the things unfamiliar
Keys to the truck she never learned to drive
A checkbook she didn't know how to use
Legal papers she knew nothing about
His favorite cigarettes she couldn't smoke
His stash of booze she despised
Sat in the chair that was no longer HIS
Was this feeling loss?
7-29-2013
©Donna Jones
A sexy young lady from Dover
Was ready to get her leg over
A quick roll in the hay
Any time night or day
Her boyfriend admits he's in clover
02~28~ 2015
checked with how many syllables 8 8 6 6 8
Contest: Spring forward - Debbie Guzzi
~awarded 6th place~
I felt the ground move
did you feel the earthquake too?
shake, rattle, and roll
I've reached beyond the age of RPM records
youthful addiction
My forty-fives tilt in a corner of the basement,
leaning tower of teenage angst,
Wrapped now in decades of neglect.
Why can't I dispose of you?
Clutter crime of nostalgia's pull
This craving for rock 'n roll renegades,
singers of weed-garden life
punishers of social rules
Ageless idols of grainy texture
in fraying fabrics, tie dyed
So many odes to love, longing, anger
Snippets of R n' R once bleeding from open windows,
like wanderers dancing in darkness
Charged rhythm once labelled
force of evil,
Musical clout like tattered boxing gloves
Limitless bliss to unstuck youth
Something to stagger to,
life's nimble recollection,
a secret world
of cherished entry
Implacable lyrics
that preserve themselves
in all that spins
(Poem revised July 2020 with 2 new stanzas added, along with a title change.)
Jesus must roll His eyes a million times a day
Watching and listening to the things we do and say.
We get angry over the little things we cannot control,
Yet we praise Him zealously when we get a free cinnamon roll.
God has a sense of humor, just look at your goofy friends,
Taking pictures with their picture phones that no will (hopefully) see again.
We take delight in the strangest things,
like toddlers peeing on a tree,
Yet when it comes to death and dying;
how somber we can be.
The very thing we should celebrate, a life with Him above,
We grieve and worry and fret about, forgetting about His love.
So let’s celebrate our gifts from God and
His sense of humor too,
And join Jesus as He rolls His eyes
at the things we say and do.
So here here it is the new year has begun
And already it hasn't been much fun
Another lockdown
All wearing a frown
And there's no place on earth where we can run...
We were promised a world beating vaccine
And real proof of it has yet to be seen
The virus has mutated
Mankind getting frustrated
And fed up of this enforced quarantine...
Empty promises and false hope are rife
All it brings us is frustration and strife
So roll on next year
Bring much needed cheer
And put normality back into life...
Written 7th January 2021
frugal one squeeze roll
toothpaste tube last fate fold love-
your origami
I was on a roll
Dunked into vegetable soup
We passed peas, corn, and carrots
Someone slathered butter on me.
Uh-oh!
I drumbeat your heartbeat
Sweat beating off body heat
I red dye your blue sky
With thunderbolt electrify
Play until my fingers numb
The fine hairs of your eardrums
And rapture into a new verse
Onto your flawless miss universe
My voice caresses the airwaves
All I want is for you to believe
When you hear the love part
Of my serenade in your heart
I don’t know why I lose control
But something deep in my soul
Fine tunes to your signal
‘cos babe my soul is rock-and-roll
And when you hear the drum roll
It’s just my stomach babe gal
Feeling your butterfly effect
Bracing for a powerful impact
When you charge onto the stage
‘cos even rock stars come of age
Hope to still pull your heartstrings
Through your earpiece when I sing
So I drumbeat your heartbeat
Sweat beating off body heat
I red dye your blue sky
With thunderbolt electrify
Play until my fingers numb
The fine hairs of your eardrums
And rapture into a new verse
Onto your flawless miss universe
08-20-2015
When you are nine years old
and sifting the seeds out
of your parents pot for them,
you can't really preach
about the dangers of cigarettes
and second-hand smoke...
even though you know them.
You know better than to miss a seed
and let it ''pop'' while they are smoking it.
''What are you lazy or just too stupid? ''
''Is it really that hard to make sure
all the seeds are out? ''
Once you've proven yourself with the sifting job,
maybe they'll think enough of you
to actually let you roll one.
If you're lucky.
Then you're a real ''big helper''.
Then they really like having you around.
Because they love you.
But, if you're stupid enough
to roll a joint that isn't tight
or comes apart while they're smoking it...
you'll be sorry.
Because then they'll tell all their friends
just how stupid their worthless kid is.
''Stupid kid.
Can't even roll a good joint.
What good are you''?
Just wait...you're almost ten.
Then they'll have you smoke one yourself.
''It'll make you much cooler.
Because you're such a dork.
You really need help''.
When the forests are felled
By our swallowed words
Hungry ears will burn~
For an owl to say who
8/29/2019
Silence Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One