Best Run The Gamut Poems
When I was a young lad in the prime of life
Never thought I'd still be around
When my driver's license said, “older than dirt!”
And my mind was no longer sound
But I can get away with a bunch of neat stuff
Rack it up to “he's left the planet!”
“His mental capacity equals that of a wee child”
Gonna take full advantage, run the gamut
Need to pee and dribble now and then
Talk in riddles and scratch my bum
Wipe my boogies on my Sunday clothes
And belch when company comes
Know all the tricks as I giggle to myself
It's a downright lead pipe cinch
Con them till they put me in a old pine box
Mumbling about my belly button lint
To find a class act
on the world stage
A tall task in our day and age
Some leaders profess sincerity
to boost their popularity
Others claim to offer truth
to lure us to the voting booth
Corruption reigns across the planet
Its variations run the gamut
And as for loyalty's 'reward'
It's death by rifle or by sword
But here I pause...Just a minute
The Royal Palace has within it
A Queen Mother, dignified and gracious
Vivacious and sagacious, never mendacious
A class act who brooks no empty platitudes
Queen Elizabeth deserves our undying gratitude
When I was a young lad in the prime of life
Never thought I'd still be around
When my driver's license said, “older than dirt!”
And my mind was no longer sound
But I can get away with a bunch of neat stuff
Rack it up to “he's left the planet!”
“His mental capacity equals that of a wee kid”
Gonna take full advantage, run the gamut
Just need to pee myself and dribble now and then
Talk in riddles and scratch my bum
Wipe my boogies on my Sunday best clothes
And belch when company comes
Know all the neat tricks as I giggle to myself
It's a downright lead pipe cinch
Con them till they put me in a old pine box
Mumbling about my belly button lint
© Jack Ellison 2014
I arrived before the final showing,
Before your heart was erased.
When we run the gamut
There are rules
That cannot be broken.
There are spirals in the mind
That annoy even the great ones,
With pedigrees like tulips.
Free at last--
Or so I thought, but
All hope of winning the prize is lost.
My harmonies plead for mercy.
Do you remember your name? I asked.
There was no answer.
But I knew it was Stephen--
Stephen who paints windows
And affixes doors--
Stephen the unhinged.
Fiction, he said, is the truth
Behind the facts,
The wandering of lost sheep
Who walk in your dreams.
There are those, who in a trance
Like frogs, burrow beneath the mud
And wait for rain.
Rain was a long time coming that year.
Everyone knew it would be dry;
The almanac said so.
The signs were posted everywhere:
Seven years of drought,
A long waiting to be born.
Did I arrive before the final showing?
Before your heart was erased?
All I know is that
When we run the gamut
There are rules
That cannot be broken
And shattered like an icicle
Falling to the ground.
There are spirals in the mind
That annoy even the great ones,
With pedigrees like tulips.
Free at last--
Or so he thought--
Before the final undertaking.
All hope of winning the prize is lost,
Yet beauty stands out
And is known.
In this prison of mortality,
I am a limp doll.
My features show the age of years;
My harmonies plead for mercy.
Do you remember a name, I asked.
There was no answer.
But I knew it was Stephen--
Stephen who paints windows
And affixes doors--
Stephen the unhinged.
Fiction, he said, is the truth
Behind the facts,
The wandering of lost sheep
Who walk in their dreams.
They are those who in a trance
Can appear quite normal.
Like frogs, they burrow beneath the mud
And wait for rain.
Rain was a long time coming that year.
Everyone knew it would be dry;
The almanac said so.
The signs were posted everywhere:
Seven years of drought,
A long waiting to be born.
The role of man is to experience the drama of life. We might guess why the universe was created, at the least it was for man to live this material life. His inherent nature has developed, over the eons of surviving in this lonely place. His passions have run the gamut of all things that can be held. With his bare hands, he has made every kind of thing found under the sun. His imaginative creations, speak of the artist and the craftsman as mystical shaman, and with an inspired hand, raises up all of mankind. For he has made that legendary journey of a thousand steps, and set in motion, The Divine Mission. Mans evolution is in the interest of all the cosmos, for where else would you find a race like the humans, with their extreme nature? With their war and peace, the dying and the newborn, the nightmares and the beautiful dreamers? Is there another place that has bred those such as us? Who else could you find that believe in a god such as ours, and where else would you find a creature that would die, for such a thing as love?!
FROM THE PIT OF HELL
By R. A. Merritt
The KKK has got a new name
But they don’t wear a robe and hood
They’re alternative right and are often polite
Like decent people should
Yeah they wear suits and ties
And have wingtips on their feet
And many of them are college grads
And members of the elite
And you know very well where they’re from
Where their minds do dwell
They’re the worse of America
They’re from the pit of hell
They’re giving each other Roman salutes
But not wearing Brown Shirts yet
But I expect they will be real soon
And be marching in Goose Step
They’re all over your city streets
They’re all over your home town
Anger in their excited voices
With faces wearin’ frowns
They don’t love our country
Though they profess they do
They in fact hate with it a passion
For the likes of me and you
And you know very well where they’re from
Where their minds do dwell
They’re the worse of America
They’re from the pit of hell
And they run the gamut
Are old age and very young
And they all walk in darkness
And avoid the shining sun
They’ve infected our country
Are a virus of wanton hate
And if we don’t cure it before to long
It just might be to late
And you know very well where they’re from
Where their minds do dwell
They’re the worse of America
They’re from the pit of hell
Yes if we don’t do something soon
This tyranny forestall
We’ll be headed for their prison camps
Or be pushed up against a wall
And no one will be left to weep for us
Or take account of our strife
Our freedom we once cherished
Will be as dead as our life
And you know very well where they’re from
Where their minds do dwell
They’re the worse of America
They’re from the pit of hell
And you know very well where they’re from
Where their minds do dwell
They’re the worse of America
They’re from the pit of hell
The very pit of hell
The role of man is to experience the drama of life. We might guess why the universe was created, at the least it was for man to live this material life. His inherent nature has developed, over the eons of surviving in this lonely place. His passions have run the gamut of all things that can be held. With his bare hands, he has made every kind of thing under the sun. His imaginative creations, speak of the artist and the craftsman, as mystical shaman, and with an inspired hand, raises up all of mankind. For he has made that legendary journey of a thousand steps, and set in motion, the Divine Mission. Man's evolution is in the interest of all the cosmos, for where else would you find another race like the humans, with their extreme nature? With their war and peace, the dying and the newborn, the nightmares and the beautiful dreamers? Is there another place that has bred those such as us? Who else could you find that believe in a god such as ours, and where else could you find a creature that would die, for such a thing as love?!
11/8/2018 (originally posted 12/31/2017)
"ALL RISE! THIS HONORABLE COURT IS NOW IN SESSION!"
I whack the gavel down, I'm a Bailiff by profession.
Another challenging day in the hallowed court room begins,
As hapless souls appear before the judge to recount their sins!
The cases on the docket really run the gamut, you see,
From a neighbor's barking mutt to murder in the first degree!
Some folks want a jury trial which is their constitutional right,
Praying a sympathetic jury will relieve them from their plight!
The judge ponders what to do with those poor forlorn souls,
Whose misdeeds have washed them upon on perilous shoals.
A defendant asks the inscrutable judge not to remand him to jail,
While his lawyer pleads earnestly for his release on bail!
The judge's pace is frantic, he's got a lot on his mind.
He's lost his specs, I say, "Judge, justice is supposed to be blind!"
My inane remark makes him guffaw and seems to ease the strain.
I find his bifocals and he dispenses justice once again!
A Bailiff's job is hectic and there's little time for leisure.
Loyalty to the judge is paramount since you serve at his pleasure,
Tactfully but firmly communicating with all sorts of humanity,
Supporting the judge and the community with the utmost fidelity!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Wherever you roam, in this great big land
Kooks are the happiest, they all have a plan
To shake up the planet
With joy, run the gamut
Kooks unite! If you're one, join the clan
"Can you consider emotions,
As a possession
Like shoes or a coat,
Bike or a boat
Can we claim what we cannot see,
I’m sorry you just have to believe
Some emotions however we can see,
Like those exposed on your shirt sleeve
Happy, sad, perturbed or irritated,
The end of something you initiated
Can we accrue emotions like cash,
Impressing friends with our stash
Or are they kept in the back of our closet,
Susceptible to forget
Their feelings intent,
In hindsight’s lament
Emotions are not tactile,
But they make hearts fragile
You can sense their loss,
If you’ve ever been double crossed
Or invested them too much,
Elsewhere and lost touch
Best to keep them stable,
Recognizing if you are able
Emotions can’t be held very tight,
For they need to take flight
Unencumbered with arms wide open,
No truer words have been spoken
For emotions need to be free to run the gamut,
Understanding that’s life and it’s gambit"
Look but don't see! a new World is being made
its fabric is interwoven with a strength of inconsistency
It teaches in pre-schools that
Run from 9 am until 6 with
The children of other lost children who are
Called parents. 'Parents’. It’s a useful
Word!! in this useless world.
That has re-modelled and fetes the
Carnal old realities of blood
Lusting empires of Olympian
Depths.! Trans-ported to Roman orgies to be impressed upon its young captives as their elders run the gamut of ‘endless hours in a
A bean counters paradise.'
Dealing with the cobbled together mantra of consumer ideologies as false idols strut across energy
Wasting screens there are wars, wars on waste wars on want, on pollution, on many many things. These are the
Rumours! also there are real wars
There are earthquakes famines but the end is not yet! viruses in the computers
A virus on the flesh, upon the
Men, who have become lovers of themselves.
©Joe Maverick 31-3-2020
Sayonara, Arrivederci, Shalom, Aloha, they all mean the same thing, Right?
or
Not?
It depends....
And whether you're experiencing "Jamais vu"
Or "Deja vu"- you will of course, have
a different reaction.
Emotions run the gamut--
that seems to be the attraction,
but underneath the skin, the veins
it's in your blood,
your DNA,
there's an imperceptible something,
absolutely something there
-ReaL-
you can't replicate it in a laboratory,
But it informs You: Who you really
Are.
Can't stop, I'm driven to an extreme intense vision
Of power and control much like the guy on television
Lead the whole planet
To run the gamut
Making sure we're still here in our lovely subdivision
Wherever you roam, in this great big land
Kooks are the happiest, they all have a plan
To shake up the planet
With joy, run the gamut
Kooks unite! If you're one, join the clan