Best Screwdrivers Poems
Joe The Plumber announced he was runnin' fer Congress the other day!
Congratulations, Joe! You the man! Fer you I shout, "Hooray!"
Tell 'em like it is as you did with Obama - show 'em you won't be outdone!
And, Joe, take yer plumbers' kit - you'll need it to repair the damage done!
Include screwdrivers to tighten the screws on higher taxes and spendin',
And yer biggest wrench to shut off the flow of governmental lendin'!
Take yer solderin' arn so as to solidify warm relationships with yer peers,
And a pipe cutter to cut off zany filibusterin' that is tiresome to yer ears!
You'll need a hundred rolls of duct tape to stem the flow of inane babble,
And gallons of Liquid Plummer to unclog the stalemate of that useless rabble!
A good pipe wrench will come in handy to tighten the discipline in that 'joint',
And a twelve-foot stepladder to rise above that rotten mob to make yer point!
Joe, show 'em what real 'change' is meant to be with a new 'shower' of hope!
Flush political correctness down the john that's gotten us on this slippery slope!
Be sure to take yer roto-rooter and clean the sewer that is Washington, DC!
Use yer most powerful hose to flush the whole mucked-up mess out to sea!
Robert L. Hinshaw,CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
As I walk around,
I find:
2 windows flawless with absolutely no bugs, spiders, creatures of any kind
2 hanging blinds perfectly dusted and cleaned
1 red toolbox entirely organized by wrenches, hammers, and screwdrivers
1 blue toolbox with little sliding doors utterly sorted by nuts, bolts, and nails
2 shelves with gardening tools separated by size
3 boxes individually labeled “Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas”
and the reason for all this:
I am bored.
©Holly P. Moore
November 2012
He waited
Under fluorescent lighting
The kind that highlighted
His salt and pepper hair
It was almost 5:30
Quitting time
But he didn’t have to worry about that anymore
Today was his last day
The people in the office took him out to lunch
Had a round of drinks
Opened a few cards
Hugged one of the secretaries
Felt pretty good about himself
But what next?
Adjusting his glasses he looked straight ahead
The tools on his workbench
Grimy
Cold metal
After twenty years still usable and dependable
Pliers, screwdrivers
Lined up in front just the way he organized them
Some lost
Some borrowed but eventually all returned
He wondered if he would miss holding the hefty hammer
The one with the smooth maple handle?
There was nothing more to do
Would he bring his tools home?
Or come back for them later?
Rubbing his hands
To keep his fingers moving
He lingered at his bench
Until it was time to leave
A day’s pay for a day’s work
That what his father told him
Back when.
Put off the final decision
To retire as long as he could
When he signed the papers
It felt like somebody lifted him up
And put him in another life
Careful with money
Saved all these years
With Social Security
He and his wife hoped it would be enough
To see them through.
Enough thinking
It was time to leave
Waving to a few co-workers
He walked out
The shop door closing behind him
Brick building
Casting its large shadow behind him
Outside it was the usual scene
Busy streets
Crowded coffee shop
Sounds of buses and traffic
In a hurry to get somewhere.
This time it was different
A cold chill of exhilaration
Gripped him in a vise of uncertainty
He couldn’t believe he
Was walking away
From decades of
What was once familiar
And part of him.
I Hate Home Depot!
I hate Home Depot!
Just the sight of that
orange and white sign
makes my stomach turn.
However I know every
square inch of that store,
I’ve spent
thousands of hours there
as a paying customer.
I know what all is in the
garden section for all of the seasons.
I know where to go to find the
nuts, screws, nails and bolts. I can guide you
through the wallpaper and
the paint section.
I’ve bought sheets of plywood, lots of pcv pipe,
dozens of American Standard toilets,
ceiling fans, light fixtures, HVAC systems,
generators, even a riding lawn mower.
I’ve bought paint and waited to have it
mixed properly. I’ve rented
and driven dozens of their trucks before.
I’ve bought power drills, leaf blowers
screwdrivers, hammers, cabinets,
patio furniture, a refrigerator, an oven,
and an air conditioner.
I’ve even rented a carpet cleaner too!
But I could care less, if I ever step foot
in a Home Depot ever again. All of my hours
clocked in that store went to the benefit
of my ex.
He was the one that financially,
emotionally and personally
gained from my presence in
Home Depot.
So what was the point of me acquiring
all of that knowledge that didn’t benefit
me at all then and probably won’t benefit
me ever again?
It seems like such as waste of my time
and energy now.
Believe me when I say
I would rather watch paint dry than
go to Home Depot, I mean ever word
of that statement!
One summer I practically read all of
War and Peace in the orange and
white store from Hell!
But I can show you how to repair a large hole
in a piece of sheetrock. I know how to
paint the inside and the outside of a house.
I know how to install travertine in a house,
slanted and straight.
I have installed granite countertops,
hardware for a sink and the basin too.
Many other home improvement projects
I learned there.
What a fool I was!
Oh well, that’s life.
Who knows maybe
someday I’ll use some
of that knowledge that I
hated every minute learning!
TALKING TO ME
Do you ever get the feeling that inanimate objects are talking to you?
Sometimes I do, not often, but sometimes.
Like trees that seem to be murmuring in an unknown language
somehow suggesting a meaning to me.
And clouds when billowed tell me of some distant place I haven't visited.
They display portly faces that look strangely familiar and seem to mouth
broken words.
Once I heard running water in a stream ripple in nomadic sounds, it told me
the secrets of how to go with the flow.
Flowers often, when in full bloom gossip and say "look at me, aren't I beautiful?"
But when dying cry out say "I was younger then, but now I'm old and frail!"
It seems when picking out socks to wear, I imagine them vying for my attention.
Pick me.. no pick me. And when I do, feel a little guilty that I didn't pick the other.
Once I took out and put back pliers from my tool holder on the wall. One cried out to me saying that I shouldn't put it so close to the other one (considered far inferior). And of course, the screwdrivers made it known that Phillips do not belong with Flatheads.
Should it be, do I have to endure these insults to my sensibilities?
As I said, sometimes.
Calypso, Bèlè, Limbo, Reggae
And a Pool Boy, Called Lonny Ray
Margarita and Coolers, by The Bay
All With Umbrellas at Seaside Café’
Like Caribbean Pirates, Taking A Chance
Shaking Our Lala, Wining-Dance
Vacation Adventure, Love-Romance
Worth Every Penny of Check-Advance
Barbados, Tobago, Jamaica, Fun
Songs, Soca, Sand, Surf and Sun
Float To The Bar, in Another Run
Frozen Daiquiri, Screwdrivers, Coke and Rum
Xylophone, Steel Guitar, Cymbals, Steel Drums
Almost, Made Us, Want To Be Beach Bums
When Asked, Were We Happy, We Did Come ? …
… Yeah Mon, Yeah Mon, Yeah Mon, Yeah Mon !
Vague words lead poets to heady heights far yonder
If we, like Wordsworth, seek a path to’ wander.’
But words there are whose power is less prolific,
Dwindling fast the more they are specific.
Sententious and meaningful are rhymes
Which great poets have utilized at times
as when a line whose somber end is ‘womb’
finds in the next one that ends with ‘tomb.’
Or when a line that sadly ends with ‘death’
Is cheered next line with ‘heaven’s living breath.’
Poetry, they claim, is vast and universal,
But entry to it so often meets reversal.
Screwdrivers ,it seems, have failed, to join the race
What cruel fate has offered them no grace?
‘Appetizer,’ ‘sliver’ and - oh yes- ‘scuba diver’
Bring little help the shunned screwdriver.
Can rhyming slang yet save the day?
Let’s ask a Cockney on the way.
“Sorry, mate, I don’t know neiver.”
Envoi
If there’s a will, then there’s a way,
An optimist will tend to say.
Is there answer? No chance ismissed,
If we give the ode just one more twist.
Zoo Drop
Terracotta robots zapping rodents.
Ongoing Zagreb building projects.
Witches, milk floats and Vauxhall cars in Bill's head.
You got Tonsillitis from licking prostitutes’ rancid toes.
Towel used for a century; six frayed threads on its length.
Novel bus design; the driver drives from upstairs.
You drink Earl Grey tea, cold.
I so damn hate slow tardy days dragging till I get my dole for a new tattoo.
Signed on Fri, a 3 day wait till pay day.
It may not be paid right.
Twits!
Nebulous screwdrivers in the sky.
Take me away from the clouds to a desert landscape.
Tattoo my earlobe you minky moo.
My hubby is a techno genius; he can fix anything that was made, at any time.
Yesterday he fixed my vacuum, for the hundredth time, from Nineteen-sixty-one.
And guess who was watching intently: yes, our friendly basement Trolls, of course.
Amazed by gadgets, screwdrivers, and such, love from their eyes, shone forth.
The next morning utility belts full of tools were hung, from around their waists.
They looked for something close to fix. They had to start, right now, right away.
That sunny morn ‘Acme Techno Trolls’ was born, the best, you know, around.
They were gifted… you might say, ‘a blessing’ to everyone with a tech, at home.
They fit a niche for those wives of tinkers, who won’t let go of anything that’s old.
Troll’s can tear anything apart, for near nothing; hammers are their specialty, of course.
When they are done, no parts will be found… ready for your tech to find, in the rebound.
So if it’s time for ‘out with the old and in with the new’, you know just what to do.
My dear friends, they’re good at what they do… This I can solemnly tell you.
And a bonus feature is- when they say it’s broke… Who will argue with a Troll?
You might say they’re definitely the dream come true, for the housewife of a tech.
I know, they worked for me… and I know, by heck, that they can work for you.
When happiness for those tech impaired… would come with the shiny and the new…
Once in a while… It’s the perfect thing… It’s the best darn excuse… It’s true!
PALADIN
Expert but understated taciturn lone hero
Sherlock Holmes fiddling with a violin solo
Then James Bond then Richard Boone
Then Terminator and Bruce Lee (died too soon)
But today’s hero is the computer guy
Who can fix your machine easy as pie.
Unspeaking, he arrives in casual jeans, with pliers
Small screwdrivers and a pocketful of wires.
Wants no chit chat, just fiddles with motherboard
And such for a half hour without a word.
Then he disappears in a white van -
Say. . . who was that silent man?
Your problem he can unravel :
Have mouse will travel.
stubborn at the most
unfortunate moments
and quick with a
flabbergasted wit
he ambushes me from
the alleys in his mind
from behind
where four strikes
are uncommon
and frequently
commented upon
let's try to ignore the
inane flattery and take
into consideration
three screwdrivers deep
the fantastic premise this
is situated upon
apart-heid
has rendered my fat
and substance unfit
avocados are for brains
still, lavender for calm
we come together
in spite of
differing points of
perspective
expatriated breaths
gasped and sighed at
in the dwelling I somehow fancied
as a home has suddenly become a
jail/reformatory/pilgrimage
a complex and refracted
reflected gallery of smiles
and countenances
not discourteous
simulateously entertained with quips
and the locking of eyes
with the neighborhood bulldog
he arrives again
with breath like linament
stale tobacco and promises
we bicker and yell
no promise as of yet has transpired
above a certain hell
of vacuous emotion
"... what I said was, The Tardis... and I'm the heir..."
Much more on the inside than you could ever imagine...
and Siriusly sweet with a passion
The juice in my Driver
is a River in tune
"... light speed isn't quite
what you envision..."
but it's faster than a broom
I'd say
And a smoother ride too,
you can cruise
on the inside and choose
any mind for a wind
you can be
and you can find
any one thing
in any amount of time...
I figure all you'd need
are the keys
and these,
appear
to be
mine...
"... screwdrivers are outdated
to traveling time
any way..."
Backyard Mechanic
by Bob Moore © 2019
I’m a guy of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s, a Ford man, or a Holden or two
we didn’t bother with garages, if the car broke, we knew what to do
We only needed a spanner, a shifter would fit all the nuts
another one for the sparkplugs, and enough room to get at the guts
Two screwdrivers, a straight and a phillips,
a hammer, in case things were stuck,
a few timely swear words to use on the way,
time to start now, so wish me good luck
We could fix the transmission, or gearbox, change the tail shaft
or even the diff, we didn’t care if the cars in the air,
we’d crawl under, without wondering “if”
Clean out the carby, so the float would now work,
change all the plugs and the points, check the alt, and the dizzy
the air cleaner too, then you can grease all the joints,
Blowing smoke, then change the head gasket,
a squeal in the brakes, check the shoes,
you can change the brake fluid, and hope that will do it,
glad we didn’t end up on the news
we knew that half of the things that we did
a real mechanic would not try to do,
they were smart and they said, those things would not work,
but not knowing, they worked fine for you
Those days are gone now forever, the cars talk with data and files
Just diagnostics, and computerised, and not a mechanic for miles
What a special time of year....
I,Santa and my minion of elves
making a gazillion toys for all
the giddy girls and boys.
Just what are some of the things they
will find under the tree? Let's see !!
Colorful cars that go vroom vroom
and twin engine planes that zoom.
Remote control trucks that
tumble around the room.Oh these
things simply can't come too soon!
There's the cute little doll house
with a canary canopy and the stocking
stuffed to the brim with sugar coated candy.
Oh my, what about the indestructable
tank with the turret that pivots or the
tried and true toolset equipped with
screwdrivers, pliers, hammer
and yes, even a rack of rivets.
I almost forgot about the long-legged dolls
with their fancy silk sweaters and dresses.
Oh how girls love those that talk or cry,
or ..... yes, even make little messes.
Then there are teddy bears,dolphins,
monkeys, ...stuffed animals of all kinds.
Oh, is it possible for the youngsters
to get these tantalizing toys out of their minds?
Chutes and Ladders,Candyland, Twister,
Guess Who, a smorgasboard of board games.
Oh yes, after this Christmas Day,
nothing could ever be the same.
Then there are cd's, dvd's,mp3s
you name it, even cell phones to call.
And no, that's certainly not all.
Catchers mitts, frisbees,yo-yo's or
better yet, a new leather basketball.
Robots, Light Bright,Spirograph,
we are busy making toys for tots.
And I don't think I need to tell you
No matter how you slice it... there's alot.
But I'm running out of time here you see
and there's no limit to what
can be found underneath the tree.
Every year Christmas provides a new story.
I know I hold a special place in
the hearts of people both young and old.
But I will be the first to admit
Christmas is not about me or what's
under the tree, but might I be so bold
as to say we must not forget that the real
Christmas story is all about love.
It starts and ends with the gift of Jesus
sent to us from His Father above.
For without that very "special delivery"
Christmas Day we wouldn't even celebrate.
No, as a matter of fact, December 25th
would simply be just an ordinary date.
Jimmy
Caring; Funny; Sneaky; Loving
Son of David and Roberta
a Special Blending of Both
Brother to David; Trudy; Mary; Frank;
Patsy; Reuben; and Martha.
The Fifth Child~ the Feisty one!
Father to Ashley and Cody.
Grandpa to Taylor.
Friend to All who know him.
Good Cop? Bad Cop?
Depends!
Are you the victim? Or the perpetrator?
Lover of his Family and Hunting;
Screwdrivers and Ropes!
Hunting Dogs and exotic Beasts.
Collector of Guns and Knives.
Teller of Jokes and tall tales.
Who fears only the kisses of sisters.
Who needs to make the rest of us Laugh.
Who always does an outstanding job.
Who would love to Out~fish Frank;
Out~hunt David Out~talk Patsy;
And Lasso Reuben just one more time!
Who loves to uphold the Law
and to Hold up his grand~Daughter.
An Old Man today~ Half a hundred!
a resident of Ulmer.
Black