Best Serviced Poems
NEW: Sep
When the guy at the garage
who’d serviced my car
said ”Ahoy There Me Matey!”
and added ”Oooh Aarrrr!”
I just stood there perplexed
and confused as to why
he was wearing an eye patch
across his good eye
“Look I don’t understand
why you’re acting this way”
“Cos the 19th’s World Talk
Like A Pirate Talks day”
Then I asked how my car was
as if to tempt fate
“Landlubber, me hearty
‘tis in pieces of eight!”
The Diary So Far
Jan
to an air infused with wilting pine
and the first eight lines of auld lang syne
new year proclaimed for all its worth:
hope, happiness and peace on earth
it kissed and danced about the floor
- then yawned and fell asleep once more.
Feb
I wish to thank a roman priest
who died in two six nine
as he's the reason centuries on
we now have valentine
I like the verses on his cards
and how for just one day
he writes nice things about my wife
that I sign anyway
but I like his chocolates best of all
as they melt away the thought
of last month's resolutions
and that gym pass that I bought.
Mar
I don't see spring as others do
with nature's love therein
- that sense of hope when winter leaves
and warmer days begin
for come that warmth I see but death
as battles march once more
just like my name derived from mars
- the roman god of war.
Apr
Dear Gary
We're printing your poems in a series of books
to be studied by pupils at school.
Please accept an advance of ten thousand pounds.
You are great!
Kind Regards
April Fool.
May
in any given year this month
is so unique because
no other month begins or ends
on the same day that may does.
Jun
It’s around this time of year
when summer’s sun is realigned
I’m reminded of that solstice
at stonehenge in '93
I’d ‘rolled’ up for a concert
when it dawned upon my mind:
”See Ancient Stones And Rock” was not
The Stones I’d hoped to see.
Jul
Five days on the Thames
Rounded up, ringed then released.
Summer’s Swan Upping.
Aug
When Gaius Octavius became Emperor Augustus
they renamed the month after him.
Just Imagine the outcry if a leader today
did something like this on a whim.
When everything seems peaceful
and all is going well
you'll find out that Murphy's rules
will grab you like a spell
When you build your money up
a bundle in the bank
and trouble strikes at every turn
then you'll know who to thank
The car you just had serviced
is spewing smoke and oil
the fridge just out of warranty
now watch that good food spoil
Just when you least expect it
Old Murphy will appear
He's cruel enough to make you spill
your last mouthful of beer
At every turn he's waiting
until you think you're safe
the shoes that fit well yesterday
today will make you chafe
Your wallet's in your pocket
at least that's what you think
until its time to pay the bill
then feel your light heart sink
You glide along life's easy way
it's such an easy dance
Until old Murphy comes along
and kicks you in the pants
From my PDF book "Bush Ballads and Bulldust"
I was listening to roller skating tunes.
Yes, I am shallow, sir.
And though thou may say villainess or mistress,
I am content to be who I am.
One noon, we were over dull
and our hearts we serviced
like two thieves there
in the kissing place
where breaths are both as one
and the first of many kisses doubles.
He made vows in mine ear.
He has such hands and lips
and his fortunate nature fed mine eyes
oh, nothing was scarce.
Our horns locked together
with the intensest chutzpah
and we well-made our match.
We sparked feelings we all ascribe to heaven.
I would not tell you
I can serve a man
that by slow designs
men can melt.
He swore oaths
and dropped
half won.
Later he paid
the sweetest
after-debts
—he did owe it.
.
.
songs for this:
Find Me the Pulse of the Universe by Laetitia Sadier
Stormy (Bossa Mix) by S-Tone Inc
Inside the fierce beast, beats the heart of a king
No challengers come forth to contest his throne
Leisurely days spent dreaming of his pride
Ingesting meat taken down by his females
Knowing his reign ends when age betrays
Enjoying his vigor as he awaits that fate
Another, younger male, comes to call
Lying in wait while the females are serviced
Inhaling the scent of the pride in heat
Only caution stays his hunger and power
Not so when the mighty male is exhausted
Out of the bushes he rushes the fatigued king
Ultimate victory assured as challenge roars out
Though winded, the pride male answers swiftly
Like boxers they circle, searching for weakness
Incensed at the impudence, the elder attacks
Keen reflexes, the challenger moves like a ghost
Engaging the king with teeth, claws and fury
A fatal mistake, now the old king lays wounded
Limping away, weak from blood loss and pain
Already he dreams of the death that approaches
Maybe his time is over, but another will come
Behind him, the new king begins his reign
The mechanical components, the valve that pumps my heart
The reactive nerve endings that serve a sensory stimulus
The tear ducts that latently only lend lubrication
The silly little practical necessary body bits, pieces and parts
I yawn & it reminds me… I should probably inhale & exhale
I smile because it is simply facial muscles that need exercise
I do mechanical muscle management to strengthen & maximise
Biomechanical body’s like mine don’t simply go frail..
My skin surface is stimulated, & sympathetically constricts.. it must be cold?
My mental function set to maintain a neutral base
My muscles, skeletal system, ligaments, tendons & bony structures
Encapsulated by a mechanised myofascial web, complete the outer mould
Organs operate internally as a well serviced engine, its all systems go
Emotions just pesky little hormone imbalances, from a time long ago
Where we as woman once needed in order to reproduce
Will evolution shrink our ovaries as they have outgrown their use?
My tongue embraces words, my tongue the sharpened sword
I trip stumble & fall and my senses heighten
My pelvic floor constricts & I feel it twitch & tighten
I massage the distressed muscles & release multiple rewards
It’s my body, it’s my temple, my vessel my machine
Not some sensitive, high strung weak inferior copy of a male
It is supple, soft and silky to the touch, all curves & contours
It’s my body, it’s my temple, my vessel my machine……
Spring in all its splendor has arrived - what a pleasant relief!
The grass has greened and the trees have begun to leaf!
Robins have returned and cheerily serenade me at the break of dawn.
Alas, those pesky dandelions scourge my pristine, emerald lawn!
The golden sun greets daffodils awakening from hibernation,
And colorful tulips blossom, beautifying God's grand Creation!
Pastel blooms of many hues adorn my cherry and apple trees.
Lord, please spare them from the usual late springtime freeze!
The roses were pruned and ample fertilizer was spread.
The snowblower was gladly stored securely in the shed.
The mower was serviced and its blade was finely honed.
Tomorrow the lawn must be mowed - it cannot be postponed!
But hold on! This morn I'm greeted with a grim surprise!
Drifting snow is piled as high as my shivering thighs!
Yesterday 'twas seventy degrees, now I shovel snow in coat and hat!
Fiddlefaddle! So much for Springtime in the Rockies and all of that!
During Springtime in the Rockies 'tis common modus operandi,
To keep the John Deere snowblower and lawnmower handy.
"Just wait ten minutes, the weather'll change" is an apt old saw,
As my lawnmower idles and I impatiently wait for the snow to thaw!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in Carol Brown's "Spring" Contest - January 2012
There once was a ram who retired,
who really was terribly tired.
Having serviced the lot,
he should have have been shot.
But the gun thankfully backfired.
The Captain's new wife was "true blue"
Whilst he stayed The Wives Club main screw
But rather than pout
When the Captain was out
She serviced his troops two by two
Acrid thoughts flow from this observer’s savaged mind,
permutations monitored by the auditor
infestation serviced by worldly parasites,
chromatic skin quivers in the shimmering haze
nicotine stained dentine reflex the noon sunlight,
while recorded historic slaughter highlighted.
Redundant talons clasp at a life just stolen
the fallen, amongst the trodden eglantine lay,
proving yet again man the perfect eraser;
yet a deathly silence impales the aftermath
infected only by cries of fidelity,
ghostly images belying their earthly tack,
genetic torment dipped into another’s hate,
alas no chance to make amends for ancient ways!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
Crack open an eye on Saturday morn,
and reach out to give him a cuddle.
To find he's been up since break of dawn,
and crouched in a black oily puddle.
Began with the Polo, a fast one I guess,
On day three the engine goes BOOM!
Self serviced the car to cost himself less,
Now there's wires spewing out from the loom.
A holey exhaust, a broken headlight,
and *** burns adorning each seat.
The bulbs have all blown so he cant drive at night,
or too far coz the car overheats.
To top this all off, he then bought a Golf
GTI so it's fast as a cheetah.
It's German, it's black, he's named it Adolf,
The fact it won't start, common feature.
He pulled out the seats and the engine and tanks,
It's now just a sad empty shell.
I put up and put up but still get no thanks,
So I wish these cars would burn in hell.
I'm tired of washers and bolts on the floor,
of my kitchen and hallway and loo.
Got wires and leads and cards off the doors,
Full suspension in my living room.
Im sick of these Dubs, I'm sick of the sight
of alloys and tyres and....just....bits.
The attention these Dubs get from morning til night,
It's beginning to get on my.....nerves.
Just put down your spanner, your socket and wrench
and grab a cold drink from the fridge
Take off your stained jeans, and jump in the bath
Now, where did I put the phone number for the scrap yard?.......
6th September 2011
O no, it is that time again.....
My car, it's due for its scheduled service and care..
Gotta to call the service centre, gotta to make an appointment...
Yes, ma'am, tuesday tomorrow is just fine, should be no problem..
O no, it is that time again...
My car, it's due for an oil change, gear oil change, any others to change..
Gotta to have them changed, gotta to keep the engine well maintained..
Yes, ma'am, change whatever those that need to be changed...
O no, it's that time again...
My car, this regular maintenance, by my wallet it is such a strain..
Gotta to have cash or credt card ready, the latter is additional pain...
Yes, ma'am, gotta to use credit card, glad it will do fine by you...
O no, it's that time again...
My car, some stranger gotta to get to it, gotta mess the insides...
Gotta to seat and wait, seat and wait for the services alright...
Yes, ma'am I'd rather seat and wait, so the waiting needn't be stretched..
O yes, YES! The maintenance has been done...
My car, though it is not obvious, I'm very sure it was properly serviced...
Gonna have a smoother drive, gonna have a swell handling as I drive...
TQ, ma'am, my credit is good, I trust you will see me again soon enough...
O yes, YES! Safety first, so my car is well maitained...
My car, everyday I drive, it is an integral part of my daily life....
Gotta to keep it healthy, gotta to have it reliable and road worthy...
Yes, ma'am, my sentiments exactly...
What's a little money spent for a healthy car to ensure my safety...?
The Mullumbimby blokes new bull
Was looking kind of poor,
He shunned Ray's Jersey milking cows
And serviced them no more.
To buy this so-called champion
Poor Ray had saved for years
And seeing him the way he was
It near brought him to tears.
Ray thought ... I'll ring the local vet
To come this very day,
If any one can perk him up
He'd surely know a way.
The vet he looked him up and down,
Then handed Ray a pill.
"This ought to do the trick," he said,
Then handed him the bill.
That pill it did the trick all right
His vigour was now back.
Ray fed his mate a pill a day
To keep the bull on track.
The neighbour viewed the goings on
And sought the secret out.
Ray then revealed, "It's in a pill,
A miracle no doubt."
"So what does this pill look like then?"
The neighbour sought a hint.
"It's big and white," Ray then replied,
"And tastes like peppermint."
On Kensington Avenue, under the railway,
Her stage is a paperboard box.
The sounds of North Philly provide the applause.
Her venue’s the school of hard knocks.
At the drama’s finale, the curtain comes down.
She’d serviced her role like a slave.
Just the tip of the needle, a neat little hole,
But the exit wound gaped like a cave.
The boiler man’s coming at three,
He's handsome so fit and hunky,
Forget our old boiler,
(He’s just come to oil her)
I’m wishing that he’d service me!
We had the oil central heating boiler serviced today and I couldn't resist a silly poem
16th Sept 2020
"My grandfather's bicycle"
I still have the memories of my grandfather's old bicycle that was a always packed behind the house,it was blue in colour and always sparkling because he always spends three hours to wash it thoroughly. The tyres were so black and big that I love playing with them. It has a bell that when rang every one in the community hears of it. The basket in front of it was where he usually put me if I cry to join him..The breaks were very fast and always serviced..he always say to my dad "the breaks are your only hope in case of unforeseen accidents".Not forgetting the seat which was made of a thick and soft cushion covered with a genuine black leather,my grandfather never jokes with his bicycle. Sometimes I get jealous because its like he loves and pays so much attention to his bicycle than to me..haha I guess I was very young to think so. I remember the bicycle been given to an uncle when my grandfather died,since then I have never set eyes on it. Any way it just came to mind..
Isaac Asante
Nov. 2017