Best Servers Poems


Someone Said, Hey Christopher

Someone said, Hey Christopher


Someone said, “Hey Christopher,
what’s up with all this love
It seems in every poem
that is all you’re thinking of

Why are you always dreaming,
why is it you can’t see
That love is just a legend,
a made up fallacy

The world is filled with evil,
don’t you watch the news
CNN or NBC
or others you can choose

Clinton is a liar,
Trump is just a creep
They’ll both destroy the nation
for fortunes that they reap

Murders by the thousands,
death is in the streets
I can’t believe you haven’t seen
within the many tweets

Our water is polluted,
we’re choking on the air
Hate is growing rapidly,
why are you not aware

Prices through the ceiling,
paychecks in the ground
Protesters are screaming,
you can hear them all around

There’s war in other countries,
servers have been hacked
Innocent bystanders
are caught in the attack

Little kids are crying,
not enough to eat
Begging just to make it,
sleeping in the street

So tell me, will you Christopher,
what’s up with what you write
Every poem filled with love,
morning, noon and night”

I looked at him a moment,
this person I now see
And then replied, “I’m sorry sir,
were you talking to me?

I was writing out a poem
for the one I do adore
I didn’t hear you talking,
could you say it all once more?”

He just walked away shaking his head
Categories: servers, humor, life, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Deep Purple Tulips

Deep purple tulips - virtually black,
I spied,
amidst the otherwise boring
pastels,
for the merlot-colored beauties
drew me near,
       to drink them into my eyes -
a tiger-eye smile, where light shines.

     I’m made up
for a celebratory party, comparatively 
           trivial
alongside such divine buttercups -
   royal, sublime.

     Deep purple tulips speak poetry
  in a foreign tongue.
I lean in to listen to their strange
        speech.
Not apt to forget their whisper amidst
the            clique of colors,
and the colorless whites I rub elbows with.

The servers meld into the mix. Their smiles,
brighten my experience, with deep purple lips.

4/2/2022
Categories: servers, celebration, flower, imagery,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Scars on Starry Skies

"People expect all stories of abuse 
to be loud and angry 
but they're not. 
Sometimes they're quiet and cruel
and swept under the rug."  ~ Trista Mateer

When the sky sips wild thyme,
and the sun savors swells of zenith,
       like the sakura essence of spring,
I feel beyond the blushing blues,
the bruised silhouette of victimized wind, 
fighting the heinous heat, while barely breathing;
for she did not ask the soulless predators;
familiar fangs, disguised as servers of diamonds,
to steal the innocence from her starry night,
             staining the air with bleeding grief,
now the horizon sits ~ a silent spectator~ 
to a virtue stolen, left to ashes and dust, 
       of heartbeats soaked in crimson tears...
Categories: servers, abuse,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


A Didactic Effort To Mail a Letter

Buy ink which remains indelible on the soul
Lick your stamps as they should never lick themselves
Keep envelopes open to suggestions and to be stretched
Hide them in a dry place or pine desk out of trouble 
Hold pens gently into the wind or corresponding weather
Leave an impression on the world as you write
Use an eraser but only after midnight

Employ an umbrella over your story
Deploy it in the rain if you compose
Protect your notes while rushing to the mail post
Kill trees only when necessary
Pray they don’t take revenge 

Keep rain in buckets one drop at a time
Keep sanity at bay and asteroids at large
Stamp high as bays get wet in rising tides

Write letters with pens untouched by men
Utilize paper snow white and pretty 

Mail correspondences twice if suspicious
Use two stamps because you can
Deliver yourself from evil
Let postmen know you are on to them
Send one letter at a time as mail is heavy 
Give it time because time is burdensome 
Let letters drop while servers do the rest
Wait for a response but don’t hold your breath
Categories: servers, endurance, rain, tree, wisdom,
Form: Didactic

Frightened By the Polls

Frightened By the Polls

As frightened as a wolverine in a man-made metal trap,
The politician crawled out from under his rock.
Afraid, after his voting record was revealed,
He avoided facing his constituency and their votes.
Never had he seen such scathing, waving, hating arms.
A people’s representative turned belly-up.
One Senator, a rejected self-server, voted out!
His crown fell into the black mire.
Peaceful realms of his mind were jolted.
The plaza of his heart unfettered.
Sorrowfully, for him, self-serving statutes were stifled.
Laughing loudly his bloodthirsty opponents celebrated.
Their fun was short lived.  
They, too, were soon hung out to dry on the pole, at the polls.
Because they failed to honor the value of our forefather’s demands,
Because they had misrepresented their voters again and again,
Because Americans stood tall and took Freedom’s stand,
They voted out self-servers and voted in honest men.
An entirely new era in Washington began.
The continuation of freedoms as our ancestors planned. 
Constitutional guarantees for freedom were revived.
Soon, sunshine shone its smiling face upon ordinary people. 
Society reclaimed her power.
Love, tolerance, respect, and individuality thrived.
God bless America.

Poetic vehicles used: alliteration, assonance, metaphor, parallelism, personification, rhyme, satire, simile, 
synecdoche, and metonymy.  Written for Deborah's contest, but it's the wrong form.  Oops.  Thanks for the lessons, Deb.  SMILES.

© August 19, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Categories: servers, political
Form: Narrative

A Selfless Act In a Selfish World

For only the lonely can know
A selfless act in a selfish world,
Self servers with their lists to show
For only the lonely can know
An act you have nothing to owe,
Rare vessels of goodwill unfurled
For only the lonely can know
A selfless act in a selfish world.
Categories: servers, loneliness, lonely,
Form: Triolet


There Tim Hortons

There a myriad of seats
that welcome you to sit.
There tables shining clean
meant to serve you for a bit.

There are monitors showing pictures
with their drinks hot and cold
There is food like their sandwiches
Some in zesty and in bold.

There are dozens of their donuts.
Many muffins and breads.
There are soups and their chili
served with butter and spreads.

There is coffee of all kinds.
Flavored hot, flavored cold.
There are some come with ice.
Some are mixed; so I'm told.

There are things of importants
in the Tim Horton's claim.
There servers work with them
in bringing them fame.

There a sign says Tim Horton's
all bright with it's pride.
There workers even brighter
at the counter inside.

There a team of Tim Horton's
that's thoughtful and wise.
There me as their customer
with praise and apprise.
Categories: servers, appreciation, career, drink, food,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Dining Room Warriors

Coffee, Coffee is the call
Loud enough to be heard by all 
Those who serve can never be
Quick enough to silence me.

For I hear others wanting things 
That no one on this earth can bring.
So, how on earth can I expect
Any measure of respect.

From those who so valiantly try
To catch each request while passing by.
So I tip my hat to those brave souls
Who serve and maintain self-control.

They are tested day by day
And never have a word to say.
So, when the coffee calls are met
Their valiant service we not forget.

Written By John Posey
5/27/15

Author’s Note:
This was written as a tribute to the Dining Room servers in the Assisted Living complex in which we live…. Jake
© John Posey  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: servers, tribute,
Form: Rhyme

Angels Inn

A restaurant on a beautiful island for kids
 Remy from ratatouille is the chef of my restaurant 
An expert in making boundless perfect blends
 Cute kids can urge him anything they want

Seven dwarfs from snow white are the servers
 Spider man and bat man will join them in occasions
They organise games to entertain the customers
 I also hired some of the Disney princesses

Cindrella,Rapunzel,Snow white,Jasmine,
 Aurora,Belle,Milan,Ariel and her sisters 
Sing,dance and eat with the children.
 Kids can also swing in Rapunzel's hair

 Menu contains the healthy food of all nations 
 Since it is only for kids,I named it as Angels Inn
The best part is,I don't charge any fees
 But I certainly need hugs and kisses
Categories: servers, child, imagery, kid, ,
Form: Rhyme

I'D Like To Go

When I get time I'd like to go
On a cruise around the world
So many sites I'd like to know
I'd watch as each unfurled

On a cruise around the world
I'd look at the sun as it sets
I'd watch as each unfurled
With colors that at eve besets

I'd look at the sun as it sets
Each day so many things I'd see
With colors that at eve besets
As the oceans come alive to me

Each day so many things I'd see
When I take a dive into the deep
As the oceans come alive to me
The further down that I would sink

When I take a dive into the deep
I' get to see the colored coral their 
The further down that I would sink
Would show a world beyond compare

I get to see the colored coral their
As the fish swim through it all
Would show a world beyond compare
That has me feeling oh so small

As the fish swim through it all
I must return unto the ship
That has me feeling oh so small
As I continue on this trip

I  must return unto the ship
So I could find a mountain range
As I continue on this ship
To watch the sites as they now change

So I could find a mountain range
To climb, so  I can reach it's peak
To watch the sites as they now change
Would show a beauty words can't speak

To climb so I can reach it's  peak
Must surely take my breath away
Would show a beauty  words can't speak
That leave me without a thing to say

Would surely take my breath away
Just as I sample all the cuisine
That leave me without a thing to say
Because my mouth's full and my plate's clean

Just as I sample all the cuisine
So many taste delight these lips
Because my mouth's full and my plate's clean
I give my servers healthy tips

So many taste delight the lips
From people so very different
I give my servers health tips
Because they are so excellent

From people so very different
Will come to us so many things
Because they are so excellent
Their reality was once their dreams

Will come to us so many things
So many sites I'd like to know
Their reality was once their dreams
When I get time I'd like to go
Categories: servers, appreciation, beauty, fantasy, world,
Form: Pantoum

Politician

The only good politician
is a dead one.
They are the root of rebellion
with their fabricating forked tongues;
This should not imply they be killed
Hell no! Karma will tend to that.
As a rule they’re old and grizzled
men -self servers that have grown fat
at the expense of the people;
Parasites pandering their base
rarely the country’s as a whole
beginning at the polling place.
Their souls sworn in smelly restrooms
their shiftiness baptized in piss.
Both [left and right] are lowdown goons
And when they’re gone they’re never missed.
Categories: servers, political,
Form: Verse

Why I Dont Play Tennis

>Why I don’t I play tennis.

Tennis, want to know why don’t I play?
Because I cannot hit those balls back.
Those that fly fast down my way.

I mean a tiny sphere like that.
Travelling faster than my car at that!
How can I expect to hit, a tennis ball as fast as that?

When we played tennis long ago!
On the vicar’s lawn, it was just so.
The service was so nice and slow.

Then when the ball was hit back.
That’s when the game started at that.
Back and forth those balls went.

Until at last one went out, or in the net.
Game would last quite a while.
We would talk, even smile.

And the best bit at the end of play.
Was vicar’s wife, coming out with a tray.
Of cold orange squash, you know.
And that’s how tennis ought to go.

It was on my local radio this morning. The question why people were dropping out from playing tennis. Well I could tell them. There is no room at the top with all those speed servers. Its no longer a game just a I can hit the ball at breakneck speed. I am off soon fund raising for Help for Heroes so the day is all yours. Have a nice one. (The mad Author)
Categories: servers, child abuse, games, happy,
Form:

Android Poetry

Electric sunrise loads another day.
My camera eyes record each pixeled row
As databases store it all away
In servers between Shakespeare and Van Gogh.
I watch each sunset shutdown with new hope
That one day all this data might compute
And deeper algorithms may give scope
Defining what is beauty: absolute. 
For now a million years I have compiled 
The works that all the human race had made.
All extant works of art sorted and filed
Each sector analyzed in retrograde.

The beauty that they spoke of, I can't see
It's all dim ones and zeroes still to me.

10.15.18
For Contest: All Dim Ones And Zeroes
Sponsor :Brahn Bailey
© Jesse Rowe  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: servers, computer,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Ode To John Posey

He was one of the poets featured
in "Featured Poets" of the week
and when I read his writing
it was as though I heard him speak.

So I chose a link to follow him
reading every poem he wrote
He didn't disappoint me and
I loved each word he spoke.

As a 'newbie' to this gathering
of wordsmiths round the sphere
I chose him as 'first favorite'
of poets I could follow here.

But the first thing that I noticed
was the last poems listed here
he hadn't written anything
for much more than a year.

I admit my heart was saddened
as a first thought drifted in
what if I was too late to follow
my new favorite and his pen?

I'm smart enough -sure old enough
to know when something's wrong
A poet writes until the end
only death can stop his song.

I base this on the note he wrote
in the next to his last poem
"I'm writing this as tribute to the servers
in my Assisted Living home."

Perhaps I'm wrong in assuming
that I found him much too late
and if I wish to follow him
I'll have to meet him at The Gate.
Categories: servers, death, poets, sad,
Form: Ballad

The Waffle House Way!

Customers are like bouquets of flowers passing through our twenty-four hours.
Breakfast, lunch, or dinner all 365 calendar days guaranteed for a full twenty-four seven.
“Hello Sir”! Welcome to Waffle House America’s favorite place to eat!
Some say we are the closest thing next to God's Great Heaven!
We have a confusing language of our own, the blabbering towers of the real “April Showers”
Service with a smile that has walked the many hard-earned extra tenths of miles,
Nothing computerized with files, just organized by our own genuine unique styles.
Waitresses are serving with hard enduring time and each crosses over a mighty fine line,
Master grill operators optimize a divine talent marking your plates perfectly aligned.
Friday and Saturday nights the party train arrives blessed coffee to the many lips we’ll revive.
Regulars and irregulars you’re served just the same, pardon me did I really get your name?
Loud ones, quiet ones, and even the picky ones strive to come back to us,
Here we bring back the basics of being alive.
Scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, diced, peppered, capped, or topped? 
So do you want them “All the way or just partly aflame”!
Young, old, or different at being indifferent just being sane, 
Especially when the “Waffle House Way” is to say the first “HELLO”!
“Morning Mam”! Can I get you your usual or will you be having something different  “TO GO”?
Brief moments of insanity with the moods that walk through our doors, 
Thank God for every single one of those Jukeboxes!
The quality of service opening an eye to the sly foxes, 
We’d really be in trouble if we sold liquors!
Foreign, military, and even civilian are in and out, 
Our servers are like the gold stored at Fort Knox.
So what can we get you today that you haven’t already had before?
 “The Waffle House Way” America shouts!
 It’s like being home because that’s what we are all about.
© Ann Rich  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: servers, adventure, allegory, confusion, devotion,
Form: Narrative
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

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