Best Rough And Ready Poems


Premium Member Pondering of a Puddle

Ponded and becalmed after the downpour, lying in shining stillness, I reflect an earthly existence; above me newly leafed limbs, and beyond, the wild beauty of motley skies in the afternoon’s brightening quietude. On the side of a country back road, I daydream. As leftover clouds drift in light and dark moods across my mirrored face, I ponder the possibilities of ‘what ifs’. What if life had taken me elsewhere - to a different time and place, filling another space, in another form and shape? What if I had fallen soft as a summer drizzle instead, dressing spider webs in misty strings of mini crystal beads.. or had filled a rusty-relic watering can, left behind ages ago beside an ivy-smothered stump.. or maybe had been wind-whipped with a vengeance into a swollen river rough and ready to ride the rapids.. What if, I had fallen as snow eons ago and now was found deep in an ice core in Antarctica.. how exotic! Straying cumulus find themselves captured in my imagination as well as in my liquid looking-glass oval, and my thoughts stray back to the soothing smoothness of my present reality. I know my time here, though sweet, is short-lived; and so I set my pondering aside and decide to seize upon the moment with contentment in my tranquil state of repose.

placid puddle mulls
lost in reflections of clouds -
spring rains laid to rest


Susan Ashley 
May 1, 2019


~Third Place~
Contest: Happy Haibun
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Categories: rough and ready, april, destiny, fate, imagination,
Form: Haibun

Premium Member If You Could See In Me

If you could see, the inside of me
What would you view, that you would want to see
For inside of me for any given year
Is loaded with music, it's my driven steer

Whether it's Rock with Deep Purple
Or Wish You Were Here with Pink Floyd
Inside my head
Music fills my brain void

Karnataka to Mostly Autumn
Thin Lizzy through the years
That's the way it is by Bruce Hornsby
His keyboard play brings my tears

But I can be rough and ready
And tank up the amps
Coloured Blind by Skin
Leaves me racially in thanks

Whole Lotta Love
Should be out there in force
Music should be in us
It's a matter of course

Close your eyes to the melody
Hey! it's the Moody Blues
When they played Red Rock
What gem would you choose

To answer your question
What has the past year brought
Another year of learning
Air guitar sought

Apart from seeing my kids prosper
Music avenue is my world
And watch them grow into their tomorrows
I have so much to be heard







http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/music-3.php
Categories: rough and ready, history, musicme,
Form: Rhyme

Bruiser, a Bichon Frise

Bichon Frise

Rough and ready

Ultimate companion

Intellectual breed

Shadow by my side

Ever so playful

Regal little dog
Categories: rough and ready, animals, pets
Form: Acrostic

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Buttercupshalimarcat

ButtercupShalimar was a cat, that was white
She was fluffy and furry and real girl girly.
One day, in a baskety in the bedrommy,
She had six kittiebabies with big, big loud cries . . .
Mew mew mew MEW! They all cried and, all the time!
And soon they grew grew grew grew and GREW!

There were three girl kitties and three boy kitties, too
The girl kitties were all sugar and spice sweetness,
And their names were SquigglesWigglesGreyKitty,
PebblesFluffyWhiteKitty and TickleCuddlesOrangeKitty.
The boys were called, DoodlesDafferBrownKitty,
WeeblesWonkiSpottedKitty and last PuddlesRascalBlackKitty.
The boys were all hoop and holler, you know boys!

Well, life for ButtercupShalimar was upanddownable,
It was CRAZY keeping track of the six hooligans
but she needed a rest outside, so she left them sleeping,
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ . . . 

When ButtercupShalimar came back it was all topsy turfy
in the housedippity with the back and forth and up and down
of six rough and ready kittiebabies all aroaming unsupervised!
She gathered them up and started counting . . .
One kitty, two kitty, three kitty, four kitty, five kitty . . . huh
"OH MY WHISKERS!" Screamed ButtercupShalimar,
"Where is SquigglesWigglesGreyKitty!

So they searched the housedippity, they all marched,
up and down, around and around, up in the attic
and even down in the basement, they yelled,
"Has anyone seen SquigglesWigglesGreyKitty?"
They mewed mewed to the dog, the bird in its cage,
and even a mouse walking by!

"Oh dear, oh dear, OH Dear ME, where could she be?"
And the five all answered at once, "WE DON'T KNOW, know."
All exhausted and dragging their paws they went 
to the baskety in the bedroomy for a wee rest,
And whatdoyouthunk they saw all curled upidy
SquigglesWigglesGreyKitty with her head tucked under her paws!

So, if you lose a kittiebabie, look in the baskety in the
bedroomy closetety, FIRST!

___________________________
August 20, 2015

Poetry/Free Verse/ButtercupShalimarCat
Copyright Protected, ID 15-702-352-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

For the contest, Childrens Story, Dr. Suess Style,
Sponsor, Casarah Nance

Sixth Place
Categories: rough and ready, children, word play,
Form: Free verse

On Two Old Characters At the Bus Stop

“Well now,
I’ve enough dirty knickers to be washin’,
That’s why I never got married”.

Now listen to them talk
For it’s hard not to.
He never got married 
or any of that other nonsense
That people bother with.
This friendly meeting at Stop No. 2-
Two warm bottoms nestled upon
The red bench that’s ridged like 
Unused strips of play dough-
Has them engaged with heads near, 
Eyes scanning the square.
See the pigeons flitting between
All the unloved and unexposed crumbs,
Petty ones mixed with big ones. 
Hear the funny truth left behind,
The crumbs too small for big beaks.
No borders with these two,
Only the flowing of words and
Speech without shame.
Thoughts of the day pass
Naturally and unpasteurized,
Rough and ready from the soil,
From one old head to another.

“I never dyed my hair. 
No, never. Never will. 
I’m an ugly little thing I am”

He hums briefly, 
Nods at her words
As he digests them and 
Gazes at the ground,
Then quickly up again.
Marriage, hair dye, underwear.
The topics of the day at Stop No. 2.
Then they part like the pigeons there,
Much in the way a flock sets off at once
In mutual psychic energy,
A resonant communiqué
That binds the chaos as one.
This rich stream that flows through 
Two old characters also seems to
Flow through another generation,
But one I cannot fathom.
I wish for that flow of words
Instead of staccato formalities,
Stiff smiles, and fear of the strange.
No fingers to point and no
Inflections of the voice.
Nothing.
No big deal.
Just clean empathy and consent 
Between two living beings.
So let’s sit here and see
What we can truly agree upon.
Marriage and hair dye and underwear.
Then let us part like two pigeons
After we’ve filled ourselves
With the little crumbs.
© Eva Wan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rough and ready, character, city, friendship, humor,
Form: Blank verse

Big Hands Don

BIG HANDS DON
I s’pose I’ve been a cowboy since I was just a ‘teen
But I was herd’n bad guys, see I cowboy’d for the queen

I rode with lots of partners up and down the asphalt trail
Those that cut the corners and those that wouldn’t fail
Some were rough and ready and a few just down right tricky
One sticks in my memories, he’s Big Hands Don Molicki

Now Big Hands wore a smile that surely was no bluff
It didn’t seem to phase him when customers got rough
His presence was imposing, a draft horse in the stable
When muscle was required Big Hands was more than able

He was who ya wanted to back ya in the bar
Or wrestling ornery critters into a police car
But after all the action of solving crime and caper
We’d head back to the office and put it down on paper

Well this is where the smile just melted off his face
His hands were hardly suited for a secretary’s place
Fat fingers on the keyboard, the letters surely flew
But when he’d aim for W he’d hit E S and Q

One late night as he toiled to fix his shift report
The waste pail full beside him with pages he’d abort
His mighty fist then crashed down hard upon the keys
And he cursed so that we knew this wern’t no time to tease

The rest of us were busy putt’n guns and cuffs away
When one went over to him and entered in the frey
He thought his gun unloaded when he aimed at that machine
And said “I’ll solve your troubles” then pulled the trigger clean

We stood there in a dither when we heard that pistol bark
While the bullet pierced the heart of the exclamation mark
When eardrums quit their ringing and smoke commenced to clear
Our minds turned to excuses for the questions sure to hear

When mounties fire their side arms, reports they have to make 
We figured this was one we’d probably have to fake
But every new rendition of the lie that we would give
Seemed just about a shaky and water in a sieve

It finally was decided in the middle of the night
We’d call the Sarge and fess-up, not a pretty sight
With courage fully mustered, the Sergeant home in bed
Was told the gruesome details, he asked “ya think it’s dead!!”

The month or so that followed slipped by without no gripin’
Big Hands did all our bull work, we did all his typin’
Categories: rough and ready, cowboy-western, funny, smile,
Form: Cowboy Poetry


No Fake Fire Drill

No "FAKE" Fire Drill

Residents at high
     land manor apartments
     (aside from myself)
     got rudely awakened -
     by what sounded
     like a screaming,
     seething, and shrieking airplane
early morning hour

     'ere september eleventh
     two thousand eighteen
     with deafening decibel (at
     maximum threshold)
     ear piercing shrill alarm
     rousing atavistic primal
     Neanderthal tapping primal brain
if NOT a atheist secular humanist,

     I would aver my linkedin match
     (com mon lee) attributed
     to Abel and/or Cain,
but whether broad
     minded or parochial,
     that deafening fire alarm
     this bloke doth disdain
but to ears of

     volunteer fire fighters,
     that unbearable audio
     warning tone beloved,
     aye need not explain
how appreciative, and
     reassure ring knowing
     rough and ready persons fain
to selflessly risk

     life and/or limb,
     when trucking 
     extinguishing arsenal
     with genuine gratitude to gain
demonstrating without
     pomp and circumstance
     the art of being humane
automatic reflexive 

     instincts second nature
     where breathe, eat,
     and live for others
     a credo, dictum,
     ethos deep ingrain
within every cell
     of their sturdy bodies,
     sans indefatigable as

     Tarzan and Jane
on par with prestidigitation skill
     visa vis tricks of the trade
     discovered via legerdemain,
yet aside from
     power house strength,
     another salient trait
     needed asper physically, 

     emotionally, and spiritually exhausting,
     grueling, and taxing job,
     would necessitate one to maintain
composure in the
     midst of pandemonium
     gamely, gingerly, and

     gloriously fighting infernos
(WITHOUT any mon
     key business)
     while training, learning, 
     and exacting diligence
     non harried styled 
     tailored swiftness!
Categories: rough and ready, 11th grade, 8th grade,
Form: Free verse

Balls and Belles

These rugby-playing girls - 
or women, should I say? -
are so rough and ready,
dashing down that field,
conveying that oval ball
from this end to that,
gritting their teeth.
Oh, what might! Such a sight!

Or do I not prefer
to behold delicate white frocks
on ladies whose fairylike fingertips
hold their tiny needles,
sewing and crocheting,
or simply sitting in silence and smiling
as we fawn on and fancy their fine, fine faces?

Yet would I not receive a slap around my head
for even daring to dawdle on such thoughts?
It is so easy to spend so much time pondering
before I wake in fright:
which sight might I hold tight in my sleeping eyes
moments before I rise - and rise some more?


(19 May 2023)
Categories: rough and ready, color, sports, woman, women,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Rough and Ready I Am

Fighting my way to the top again
Competing
Evaluating
Editing
Completing
Myself
Against 
The best
Me I have been
or can ever be.
Self improvement.
Rough and ready, waiting and learning.
Categories: rough and ready, 10th grade, 6th grade,
Form: Free verse

Why

WHY………….

Why does my heart beat so slow
Is it because I have to let my baby go
I have to leave your warm embrace
Its just too much for me to face

Why does the river of tears never dry
It seems without you all I do is cry
My heart says yes my head says no
I shouldn’t have to let you go

Without you here by my side
In no a soul I can confide
I wish these feelings would subside
Or I could let them run outside

I long to feel your tender touch
I know that thought is just too much
I know that I am to blame
But that wont stop me going insane

I once was lost
But then was found
Like that weekend we spent riding around

The days by the beach we did share
they had to end that’s so unfair
Ill never forget that poor seal
I know how it felt its so unreal

Those days are gone we used to share
But in my heart there always there
I love you sweetheart don’t you see
just how much you mean to me 

You won my heart set free my soul
To love you was my only goal
I placed my life upon your hands
Its slipping away like grains of sand


As I turn and light another cigarette
Please know baby there’s no regrets
Im sorry it has come to this
But you know your love was truely bliss

Without you here I am lost
Cold and chilled like winters frost
This has come from the heart
Good luck baby in your new start

rough and ready but thats me :) H
Categories: rough and ready, lost love, lovebaby, me,
Form:

The Long and Distant Connection

Amongst the rough and ready she waits.
Her ears pitched only for the music that will lift her up,
her eyes searching for the words and images that will inspire,
her heart yearning for that one, the one for which she has no name
 
Amidst the hustle and bustle he searches.
His ears striving to hear the sweet, sweet notes from afar,
his eyes straining to catch but a glimpse of that fair form,
his heart aching for the one, the one that he cannot yet know

Across the tangled wires and webs, they share their hopes.
Their ears buzzing with the songs of infatuation,
their eyes aglow from the embers of attraction,
their hearts wondering still, what is the name of their one?
Categories: rough and ready, internet, longing,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Fighting My Way To the Top Again

Fighting my way to the top again
Competing
Evaluating
Editing
Completing
Myself
Against 
The best
Me I have been
or can ever be.
Self improvement.
Rough and ready, waiting and learning.
Categories: rough and ready, 10th grade, 4th grade,
Form: List

Low Sun Over Home Waters

Nets are hauled and homeward go the shrimp boats
rolling slow and easy on a sunset path,
their droning engines chugging
over a rippling seafoam.

In the mangrove swamp
an egret sets its white sails and glides upwards
upon hot winds.
The sky opens for its passage
leading it through a cloudless window.

Cypress roots grip the darkening water.
their knees just above a brackish deep.
Mosquitoes dance in the dank
as shadows reach inwards.

Tonight on the bayou, grills will be heated,
pots filled,
while fishing nets are neatly reefed and mended
by rough and ready hands.

Children will skip and play in the barefooted
calm of late evening,
until carried away to their cots
sleepily listening to anhinga and loon
chant their native calls
beneath a far from sleeping lakeside moon.
Categories: rough and ready, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Eary Solution

I’d been cutting spuds for seed beneath the pines on Rouse’s lot,
and putting lime upon the open flesh to make sure they don’t rot.
I had to slice so every piece contained a growing eye,
and every spud that goes to ground will live so none should die.

Of course the sowing’s done with tractors if you know what I mean.
The spuds are tipped into a hopper and are planted by machine.
One bloke drives the tractor while on the hopper one is manned,  
so I cannot do the job alone - I need a helping hand.

Now the bloke I’ve got to help me is a rough and ready bloke,
who doesn’t mind a beer or two and quite enjoys a smoke.
He says a man should be a man. He should drink and swear and fight.
Of course when he brings up this subject I agree that he is right.

Though I thought with his bravado that one action did seem strange,
and at first I wasn’t game to ask him ‘what’s bought on the change!’
For he’s in singlet, shorts and thongs; that’s his normal working gear,
but he’s got a fancy golden ring dangling from one ear.

It wasn’t like those sleeper rings that blokes have taken to;
it looked more like a socialite’s that’s worth a bob or two,
and so when it came to ‘smoko’, I threw out a bit of bait,
but in a sheepish way he said “It’s just an ear ring mate!”

I told him that I knew that for the evidence is clear,
so I asked him “For how long had he worn it in his ear!”   
He stammered when he tried to speak, then finally he said,
“I’ve worn it ever since the missus found it in our bed.”
Categories: rough and ready, humor,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Rough and Ready Write

The sun is up and coming in the morning,
The moon is waving me a sad goodbye,
The dawn of our solution,
Is cleaning our pollution,
With optimal collusion as we fry.

I wonder as I wander in the sun bright,
Why creatures of the shadows run and hide,
Perhaps they know the story,
Of nature's morning glory,
Is sleeping when the day is hot outside.

The dew is on the lawn of our contentment,
The butterfly is talking to the bees,
The bog is like a buddy,
Because the hog is muddy,
And all the birds are flocking in the breeze.
Categories: rough and ready, animal, appreciation, bird, butterfly,
Form: Rhyme
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