Best Set The Record Straight Poems
The reason why I gamble,
I ought to tell the truth.
Those squalid tales I spun before…
Well, don’t go seeking proof.
The one about the heart op
And my desperate plight for cash -
A pack of lies, I’m fit and well
(Except a little rash).
And then there was the other one
About my mental health
And descent into depression
And the quest for joy through wealth.
And when you saw me on the street
In front of the casino,
I wept and cried ‘I have no friends,
So where else can I go.
I haven’t tasted human warmth
For such a countless while,
At least when dealing out the cards
The croupier gives a smile.’
And when you looked concerned
I said ‘Don’t fret, it’s human weakness.
But I’ve joined a local church
And hope to find a cure through Jesus.’
Then soon as you were out of sight
I dodged into the bookies
And put a tenner on a nag
(You’ll think The Devil took me).
And when this news got back to you
You started that campaign
To ‘Save Our Al’ from brimstone wrath
And flaming pitchfork pain.
And when the cash came rolling in
You gave it to my Mum,
And told her it was for
The welfare of her troubled son.
Now she was pretty mystified
And thought you were deranged.
She used the cash to buy a car
And just gave me the change.
But with all your selfless efforts,
I feel a little mean.
It’s time to set the record straight.
I’m ready to come clean.
You see.
The reason that I gamble,
There’s no tragic tale of sin.
The reason that I gamble:
It’s because I always win.
It’s Not About You
I got something to say to you
And I hope you Understand
I hope to get the message through
To interrupt your plan
You walk around with your nose
In the air looking down on me
You walk around conceited
Thinking you is better than me
Your hopes and your dreams
Are no better than mine
You need to hear the truth
And from where I stand its time
You wear red rose lip stick
Finest perfume money can buy
Everything you stand for
Isn't anything but a lie
You say God answer your prayers
Because you know how to pray
You know how to move God
With the correct words to say
To me my sister; it sounds
Like you got a lot of issues
This whole statement about God
You got the wrong picture
There is no respect of person
In God’s sight or in his mind
He loves all his children
All the same, and all the time
You think the world revolves
Around how you want it to be
And the self-centered person you are
You can’t and will not see
It’s all about God, and
What he wants us to do
It’s not about long prayers
And it’s not about you
You think that your riches
Makes you special in this world
It’s not worth a dime
If you don’t have God’s love
Your gold necklace
And diamond ring
Will not score brownie
Points with God
And your high heel shoes
Is not worth
Anything with a
Conceited concrete heart
I thought it was time
To set the record straight
You can’t get through to God
When your heart is fill with hate
So think about this; and
What it takes to be true
Today you get the lecture
And remember its
Not about you
Waste not want not.
Oh the rabbit went and died.
You should have seen us all.
The news was like a car,
smashed into a wall!
The feeling it was shock,
i felt like i would cry.
How could it be so,
that Thumper he would die!
I remembered at Pet City,
how hard the choice just was,
till we seen the Rabbit
with marks upon his paws!
The family just went "Awwh!"
We loved him oh so much.
So we took him home,
complete with brand new hutch.
It seems so long ago,
and yet it seems so near.
That we brought him home,
so small with such big ears!
I cant believe he"s gone.
We were left with excess food,
and there is an empty space,
where his hut once stood.
But Sunday Lunch was good,
a belly buster"Phew."
yes you are quite right,
we had a Rabbit stew!
and not only that,
our bad luck has been beat!
We"ve set the record straight,
with four new rabbits feet!
But the best bit of it all,
is Thumper was so fat!
That i have got to wear
a Davey Crocket hat!
It is like my Gran would say,
"You"ll be happy with your lot,
if you follow just four words,
Waste not want not!"
No rabbits were harmed in the making of this poem. Thumper is alive and well and
living at the bottom of my garden!
Puzzled are the recipients of a fruit cake from Santa Claus this year!
Seems that Yuletide ain't complete 'less you git one to bring you cheer!
Fruit cakes are much maligned and I'm here to set the record straight!
However, I must admit 'tis one of the most bizarre things I ever ate!
Even a mediocre chef can be very creative in concoctin' such confection,
Tossin' in all kinds of dubious stuff and whippin' it up to perfection!
Yule never know what Yule find when into a fruit cake you slice!
You just have to take yer chances! 'Tis a proverbial roll o' the dice!
Should you choose not to eat the thing for fear of breakin' a tooth,
There are numerous functional uses fer this lowly delicacy, forsooth!
They make a wonderful door stop, foot stool or a very formidable missile,
When hurled at yer neighbor's yappin' mutt, that ever makes you bristle!
This is a not so subtle reminder so as in your mind there'll be no doubt,
If you're givin' fruit cakes as gifts next year, please include me out!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
8 mile Road
Date: Mon, Dec 21 2015 at 1:50 AM
I hear the train coming
An I'm chasing the train humming
I see the smoke puffing
I see the light in the dungeon
I see fight Tussling
I see might Hustling
I see fright rumbling
I'm on the railroad
Following the trail to gold
I inhale the pros
I exhale the cons
I hear my name called on the intercom
The Voice of Megatron
Behind me Deceptions
Trying to make it to Cybertron
Sweat in my palms
An sweat in my arms
Sweat on my face
Tears smeared the Vision to Concentrate
Running without hesitate
No time to contemplate
Got to set the record straight
While in my headphones the record play
Can't be a second late
I see the pearly gates
An Hells devilish face
Laced Leg brace
An ankle weights
I can't catch a break
Cause I'm trying to catch the trains pace
I'm pushing people & devils out the way
To catch some space
My Angel on the train waving
I'm running on the Pavement
They yelling to me Salvation
Gods good Graces
Mercy & Greatness
Glory & Gratefulness
The Story already Created
So I can't stop
I feel like I'm going to drop
My lungs feel clogged
My head throbs
But I'm holding to the Rod
Shadow of wings lift me
Demons trying to get me
I'm flying towards the trains chimney
A Seat made for me Empty
But I got to catch the next stop
So I'm flying to meet the train on the next depart
Strength in me starts to shock
Feel the strength in my heart
I look an see who's all in the carts
I see Rosa Parks
I feel like I'm about to barf
I'm almost there to meet my mark
The train stops
I walk up to the door
sweet decadent belly
how ever will you forgive me
i didn’t know
couldn’t know
how to love you
i didn’t see that you were more than a belly
you were an entire person
an easy breezy lover girl committed to the pursuit of all things joyful
i used to joke that you were bottomless
an “animal” of your own
what a gift that was
you let me live in faraway lands
and graciously indulge in local delicacies
what an honor it was to be held tall by you
to bask in your beauty
you captured hearts of all kinds
everyone wanted part of the whole hearted embrace of life you offered
even if just for one night
i must now admit
with a heavy heart
it took sharp hip bones jutting out to lengths they never should be seen
for me to set the record straight
i needed seasons of too much nausea to stand
let alone eat
for me to learn to beg for your forgiveness
my stomach now boasts the flatness I’d always been urged to dream of
and I spend my days split between my bed and survival
friends exclaim
“wow you look so skinny!”
men praise the unnatural concaveness of you
saying things like
“maybe you weren’t played such a bad hand after all”
as if whether my body has value should be up for debate
like a certain quantity of fat cells reflects a quality of life
and I can’t blame them for not seeing
because neither did I
they don’t see the poison we’ve been spoon-fed
to categorize a healthy body as
“too much”
and a starving one as the ultimate prize
they do not see that this body takes dozens of pills a day to sit upright
in it live tsunamis of fear, pain, isolation
while my old self was free
and buoyant
while I cant change the view from where they stand
(and I stood)
i can remember your brilliance
and vow
if we're ever lucky enough to be reunited
i will honor you for what you truly are:
a home
One day this old earth shall pass,
When the cosmic gods unleash their last damning curse.
Everything will be digested, into the bellies of a billion skies,
The black smoke will paint hands, waving a billion goodbyes.
It will be the end of all roads:
The day the sun explodes.
There will be no one to witness this earth-shattering glory.
No reporter will cover this last breaking story.
The curtain of history will come down in a stellar blast.
The present will marry the future and become one past.
It will be the greatest show on earth, but no audience or applauds:
The day the sun explodes.
Physical matter will become statistics, that will never again matter.
There will be nothing to record, and no one to enter the data.
Gold will be worthless, unredeemable by dollars or pounds,
When the periodic table goes haywire, and bonds all its compounds.
No defense gadgets, stock markets or computer codes:
The day the sun explodes.
Millions of years dominated by the greed of humanity,
Reduced to vanity by unstoppable cosmic insanity.
Leaving nothing to stand, not a strand of grass nor a city.
Annihilating everything with no pity or peace treaty.
In a colorful ceremony to mark the end as it unfolds:
The day the sun explodes.
It will be the last day for the outdoors, the brightest sunlight,
But neither will a girl hold an ice cream, nor a boy fly a kite.
The last carnival on earth, the summer of all summers,
Before the gods bang together, their thunderous hammers.
No picket-fenced suburbs, no mortgages and leaseholds,
The day the sun explodes.
The sun is like a big whale and the earth its worm-like bait,
On a nuclear collision course, to set the record straight.
Not even our millennial graves will be respected.
While we are resting in peace, they will be desecrated.
Lakes and oceans will evaporate with fossils of fish and toads.
The day the sun explodes.
WHAT’S IN A NAME
My Name?
I'll set the record straight, right now for what it's worth
Wordancer was not the name my mother gave me at my birth.
My avatar can be Emu, Fairy, Frog, or a dinner suited Wagtail
Like the one who tattles to the birds when a Cat is on their trail.
This Poetically Spirited Soup shows there’s a welcome at the door,
I don't know you; you don't know me, I'll see you on the dance floor
As I travel through this varied life other names I sometimes own,
Like, Eliza and Threadneedle, they're all part of me alone.
On the Southern Fleurieu Peninsula, on the South Australian coast
Near the town of Yankalilla, is the place that I haunt most,
And if you're ever down our way the door is left ajar
You'll be welcome whether travelling from close by or from afar.
Oh yes, I love to dance.
Wordancer
I heard the tale of Humpty Dumpty who sat on a wall,
and how he managed to have a terrible and fatal fall.
But let me be the first to set the record straight,
everything that happened that day was not fate.
Humpty was a rising and upcoming gymnast,
that could do flips on the balance beam really fast.
He had enemies that hated him to the core,
they wanted to be Him,and so much more.
So one day they greased down the infamous wall,
Dumpty practiced there everyday, they knew he’d fall.
Until this day no one knows the true story,
It was the biggest lie told in modern history.
My father was a king's horseman and a gymnast,
and helped kill him and think of a lie that would last.
6-28-18
Humpty Dumpty had no yolk
As oft implied to younger folk.
This hatched idea in oviform
Should never have become the norm.
And so, before it is too late
I mean to set the record straight.
For Humpty was a tortoise bold
With hankerings to break the mould.
‘Why should it be?’ he’d often sigh
‘That we chelonians cannot fly?’
With lofty thoughts, aerodynamic
He climbed the wall – no sign of panic.
His oak-leaf wings in ten-fold ply
Assured success in his mind’s eye
But birds in flight looked on in dread
Knowing too well what lay ahead!
It's great to hold high aspirations
But best to know one’s limitations!
Now Humpty is content to roam
At leisure in his mobile home.
THE MYSTERY OF HUMPTY DUMPTY CONTEST
05/07/18
"He was a brave, resourceful and honest boy. He would have been a successful man under
other circumstances. I loved the youngster in the old days and can say now after the passing
fifty years that I still love his memory. He has gained an unfair and undeserved reputation.
Most of the stories told about him are simply not true at all. He was born into poor
circumstances and did what he did to get by. He was a thousand times better and braver
than any man hunting him." - George Coe, close friend
He was a remarkable boy. Far above the average of the young men of those times and he
undoubtedly had the making of a fine man in him." - Susan McSween, close friend
He had a great personality and could ingratiate himself in people's good graces very quickly.
He had laughing blue eyes, always smiling or laughing, very accommodating and good
hearted. He had an innocent timid look and all of this took with the girls at once."
- Lily Casey Klasner, resident
"All the wrongs have been charged to him, yet we who really knew him know that he was
good and had fine qualities. We have not put our impressions of him into print and our
silence has been the cause of great injustice to him." - Martin Chavez, close friend
"He (The one who killed him) was afraid to go back into the room to make sure of whom he
had shot. I went in and was the first to discover that they had killed my little boy. I hated
those men and I'm glad I've lived long enough to see them all dead and buried."
- Deluvina Maxwell, very close friend
"He has gained an undeserved and unfair reputation to this very day,
and so his truest to life story written poetically is my mission to set the record straight."
- William A Cleator, Me
****************************************************************************
That last quote of mine actually does rhyme poetically,
and so that justifies my posting all of these documented quotes from history
about this well known historical figure, but who is he?
****************************************************************************
To Continue Go To
2. "Quien es?" "Who is it?" Part 2
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=195856
"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers…"
Every time I hear a kid recite this twisted rhyme,
I'm 'minded how 'gainst Mother Nature it's a crime.
What that peck of peppers was no one can tell,
Perhaps banana, jalapeño, cherry, bell.
But whate'er they were, it's plain, at least to me,
That such a peck as that came off no bush nor tree.
For years this simple nursery flaw
Has scraped, and scoured, and rubbed me raw,
And in my very craw the thing's been sticking.
So to bring the problem up to date,
And to try and set the record straight,
I've checked with Vlasik, Clausen, Kraft,
And all agree the notion's daft
That peppers can be pickled prior to picking.
Author's note: Of course, there could have been a typo in the original manuscript, and Peter actually "packed a peck of pickled peppers", or maybe Peter, himself, was partially "pickled" when he picked 'em.
Entered in Tom Woody's Nursery Rhyme Wackiness Poetry Contest on July 16, 2024.
4
Have gone so far
To be left behind
No longer longing for a reward
To set the record straight
I know I lived every day
But these thoughts are rearranged
Can’t remember and I forgot
What I was after in the first place
What I sought now I’m after
Is for someone to fill the part
This aching in my heart
To find someone
To play her part
To make me an honest man
Well, that is the plan
If I were an elephant:
I would set the record straight
And squash that big fat lie. I'm
not scared of an little ole mouse.
It's fleas that scare the HELL of me!
12-08-16
Contest: If I Were An Elephant
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
I've crossed over life's next great divide
Joining others from near as well as far and wide
A new world where memories are king
And one knows not what each day may bring
Seems only yesterday that I was young
Strong of heart and quick of tongue
Now I move more slowly down life's path
Stopping only now and then to look back and laugh
Eyes are dimmer now and view a different world
One that moves much too fast as events unfurl
Yesterdays are many, tomorrows are far too few
I don't rise each day and shout "there is work to do"
Where once there was energy now only fatigue remains
And I dream of a place blessed with soft summer rains
Life is full of pain and beauty beyond belief
Moments of extreme joy and overwhelming grief
To wonder "why" is to find that silence always prevails
Hidden deep in the heavens are the secrets of life's intricate details
So we find that we have no choice but to wonder and to wait
And hope that the next major "crossing over" will set the record straight