Best Shirks Poems
Good morning mister, of thy kindness to receive,
All groans of yester, thou does seem to reprieve,
With a promise to stir, tinges optimiste do contrive,
Pain’s sphincter lets laughter, it’s another reason to live.
Swaying pyjamas on sling, the autopsy right begins,
Stayed on the bed is a rolling, whom my kitchen concerns,
“Who took that mine bedding, and Ngwaci scantily obtains?
Wanna see me cast the ring, that thine blossom returns?”
The morning prescription taken, I am innocuously abased daily,
To equate with all good men, whose wives possess jealously,
For what woman with a noble token, shirks to lose recklessly?
Taught in the womb that lesson, it break suspicious smiles secretly.
So a frowned fellow I am, and not alone in this generation,
Often silent kicks boom, where behind the driver I myself resign,
Mister, let the news come, you know, cowboys pay to listen,
Devising to forget the theme, but slaughters make to mourn.
A day received with glory, all mine suffer classic deplores,
My stem with a rigorous forgery, in front of the boss affords strange chores,
The cold of June here has a story, then an undeliberate sudden Salsa implores,
My acquittal is my worry, nobody cares to hear the weather course.
Soon ‘t’s time the cycle to restart, wishing a fair friend had that control
remote,
All these woes at will to alleviate, yet as I am, they incur not the respite,
With some spreed daily to hurt, alone I remain, a man of living heart,
I choose to live life when I find it, even if minutes thirty like a concert.
I rise with and as clear as the sun, I return crumbled like muddy earth,
This manner of men taught me none, but the proverbial sways of youth,
What shall I do but a resolve one, tonight, where else to go but Unguth!
Limited of option, I have all mornings mine, even if not couth.
Do you ever wonder where Santa goes after Christmas?
When Christmas is finally over, do you wonder where Santa does go?
More important, should I tell you? As it is a secret, you know!
He goes to somewhere, it is hot, I really do kid you not.
He takes Rudolph and the reindeer too. He really does I’m telling you.
On a hot beach, they frolic all day. And in the sea cool off I say.
And Santa Claus, what does he do? Paddles up to his knees, he do.
The reindeer all splash and swim about. Santa sun bathes, he does like that.
Mother Christmas has a pamper day. For the whole week the elves do say.
Oh the elves are away too. Visiting their families, that’s what they do.
In woods and forests everywhere, where their families live I declare.
When their holidays are at an end, all go back to Toyland refreshed as friends.
Then they all start on next year’s work. All say it’s nice and no one shirks.
So I hope your presents were alright.
The ones we delivered on Christmas Eve night.
Hope we got your address right, as it was very dark that night.
Santa’s holiday was soon at an end. Where he goes, I cannot say.
As that’s the secret I cannot tell. Or I’ll never get presents as well.
So don’t forget all next year. Be good, be kind, can you hear?
Keep your toys in good shape. Put them all away at night.
And next year, all will be alright.
Signed The Christmas Fairy.
P.S. Don’t tell Santa, I told you, will you?
And they came home battered, bruised,some we had to carry, unlike other armies ,we don’t shoot our wounded
We give them fresh water, tend their wounds,, sustenance to mend their soul and nourishment for what ails.
They come back from the front lines at all hours and always with love their bound
Stroud where their love is abounded
To cheers and salutations and our greeters summoned great support
Some of our wounded suffered Covid and death ,the pyres stacked high with wood and carried
Meetings ten ante meridiem and ten post meridiem , everyday of the year
Bloody and ragged, torn and hungry
Stroud where we are proud to serve,
God isn’t afraid to walk freely and His grace loves His steep streets
Mums never hide and Me Dad never shirks a duty nor a pint ,My sister is
quite the sassy one though
I see a Santa Fe upon its rail;
It deviates not to the left nor right,
Nor hills, nor miles, nor weather can prevail
Upon its constant task come day or night.
I see a Christian running the long race
Who never shirks the hard work to be done,
In spite of tribulations she must face,
Blesséd is she to glorify God’s Son.
I see a faithful mother, wife, and daughter
Who brings to mind these Scriptures I now read:
“Go in my name and give cold cups of water,
Extending to the needy a kind deed.”
For one whose deeds upon good deeds get blurred
I think that ‘saint’ is not too high a word.
[In the U.S, 'Santa Fe' is a well-known railway. The words translate to 'holy faith']
Written in 2016
Do you ever wonder where Santa goes after Christmas?
When Christmas is finally over,
Do you wonder where Santa does go?
More important, should I tell you?
As it is a secret, you know!
He goes to somewhere, it is hot.
I really do kid you not.
He takes Rudolph and the reindeer too.
He really does I’m telling you.
On a hot beach, they frolic all day.
And in the sea cool off I say.
And Santa Claus, what does he do?
Paddles up to his knees, he do.
The reindeer all splash and swim about.
Santa sun bathes, he does like that.
Mother Christmas has a pamper day.
For the whole week the elves do say.
Oh the elves are away too.
Visiting their families, that’s what they do.
In woods and forests everywhere.
Where their families live I declare.
When their holidays are at an end
All go back to Toyland refreshed as friends.
Then they all start on next year’s work.
All say it’s nice and no one shirks.
So I hope your presents were alright.
The ones we delivered on Christmas Eve night.
Hope we got your address right
As it was very dark that night.
Santa’s holiday was soon at an end.
Where he goes, I cannot say.
As that’s the secret I cannot tell.
Or I’ll never get presents as well.
So don’t forget all next year.
Be good, be kind, can you hear?
Keep your toys in good shape.
Put them all away at night.
And next year, all will be alright.
Signed The Christmas Fairy.
P.S. Don’t tell Santa, I told you, will you?
Barely weeks of seven of the orgy
Space crash of 117 people in a Bellview
Tragedy came knocking
This time harder with anger to
Ginger blood off its hunger
Unto the street of heaven came the commotion
On the Flyers descendant to the open
Field in the Rivers of Port-Harcourt
Emerge the Sosoliso Tsunami
Sixty future seeds of the Nation with
Fourty eight others including the Woman of God
Who churn out words for the Bachelors and Spinsters
Burnt into ashes as the Flyer caught fire with power
Before their very eyes they got burnt with
The Sosoliso bird of 1145 providing the
Shield to which the fire fired in Port-Harcourt
Parents of the future seeds of Ignatius Loyola Jesuit
Were garbed with the toga of helplessness
Other loved ones waiting at the open field
To receive them, had the cap of loneliness on
But for one survivor they had all perished
Burnt for their Negligence
Burnt for their palpable Levity
Burnt for their Greediness
To whom shall we point accusing
Finger of Sosoliso Tsunami?
Unto whose neck shall we hang
The blood of the Innocent lives of Bellview 117?
Unto whose head shall we heap all these
Garbage of calamity and catastrophe?
Who shall replace the three shinning
Future seeds of the Ilabor family?
Unto them that sold the People’s
Fliers for surplus value
Unto them at the top of the Rock
Who loot and siphon cowries meant for the People
Unto them I say ,Unto those who shirks their
Responsibilities and hang it on Private mediocres
Unto them whose insidious desire is to sell
Our land and the inhabitants
Unto them whose long throats and wicked eyes
Is driven only by profit
Unto them all who shall be burnt into
Ashes of Filthy history and memories
Alayande Stephen .T
14th of December,2005
11.23pm
For Victims of Bellview 117 and Sosoliso 108
Those that Nigerian Government sent on a
Mission impossible on air for their negligence
And looting galore in the Aviation Industry
Each girl came for looks
Each girl took some work
Each girl never meant much
Each girl left for shirks
Wonder what each would want
Wonder what each one got
Looking for looks to date
Caring which looks were not
COPLA TREINTA Y SIETE: This Bad Guy World
When wrongdoing piles up on top
Bad Guys strut and yell out like hell:
Whose fault’s within
Withdrawal sloth makes the worst cop
Nature shirks to balance rights well:
Yang lets Yin win
Either abandon all to Dao
Or seize the seasons by the lock:
Life comes alive
Winter solstice arms the Yang’s bow
Zhen’s lightning thunder bolts spring shock:
Let Yang Guys thrive
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2014
(My thoughts about doing the project without getting the credit)
Without grandiosely postulating
I will offer my opinion.
I don't know whom you're quoting,
I presume he's not a minion.
For he's not the one, I'm thinking
who is doing all the work
just for the love of working
while the credit seeker shirks.
Do the work because you're proud of
doing such a peerless job.
The irony in those cunning words
would make a lawyer sob.
The Lords and Earls took all the gain
while the serfs and vassals strove.
They were thrown a larger slice of bread
and told they worked for love.
Slave labor built the pyramids
and so many things since then.
All of the credit for their work
was assigned to lesser men.
The sneaks have used that line before
up past the time of rockets.
They gladly take the backslaps while
they're filling up their pocets.
It's time we had a turn around
and recongize the shirks.
Any credit that is given
should go to the man who works.
6th place
You have a shelf full of bling.
But never won a thing.
Your coaches claimed you tried,
But in your heart, you know they lied.
Educators spoke of hard work,
But awarded indolent shirks.
They preached about school pride,
But in your mind, you know they lied.
You shuffled off to college.
Seeking higher knowledge.
America, they did deride,
But in your sole, you know they lied.
Now you toke a lot of smoke,
Try to laugh and joke.
But mostly you just hide,
From a world you know has lied.
Today Joe Biden spelled it out crystal-clear
that he's 'leading' solely from the rear
Our sanctions, he stressed, were never meant to deter
Given that, why on earth should Russia ever fear
A country whose president shirks helping democratic Ukraine
with its two biggest needs: a no-fly zone and up-to-date planes
Mr. Biden just sent Zelinskyy 300 fighter planes built in the '80's
and he's bragging as if he did something quite weighty...
As a matter of fact, not only is Biden leading from the rear
He's betrayed the ideals free people everywhere hold dear
~ I pray fervently that an end to JB's presidency be near
Sweet Grace married a guy from old Amory
He worked for the government gendarmerie
She was a postal clerk,
He was a total jerk
And they soon lived in Amory's armory.
written July 18, 2021
Sweet grace who's job title is postal clerk
Got married to a man she met at work
Although he's a jerk
She has made it work
At home she's boss, lord help him if he shirks./
added by Belle Bellevue
The crab on the salty sandy sod,
Making his way to the cold sea,
This odd crustacean decapod,
Crabbiest thing in the briny deep.
Yet, there is a swagger about him,
That’s the envy of all others,
Doesn’t value being proper or prim,
Nor have need to regale another.
Confident he will make the water,
He has done it a thousand times,
Nothing in his way that bothers,
Only nine empty diet drink cans.
Yikes, there approaches a dark shadow,
Must abruptly move all those legs,
This could be something of matter,
The shadow is carrying a keg.
It’s a mad dash to the ocean blue,
To escape what could be trouble,
This could be day a crab might rue,
Time for the ten-legged crab shuffle.
The crab makes it to the briny deep,
Shirks a crustacean tragedy,
Wasn’t the time to slumber or sleep,
Or shadow claims his anatomy.
Slotted abruptly into a concept
Bold intimation begs he correspond
Gypsy psyche brown moth becomes windswept
Attempt to bracket him or wander on
Waiting with pattern disrupted, fear tinged
On crops offering fluffy promises
Closing chapter rips lustre from bronze wings
Field generosity astonishes
Cotton airborne released from spindly twigs
Soul exfoliated floats borderless
White flight blank wanting absorbs all of his
Virgin shirks burden of choice, subordinate
Soft vessel travels to land's bitter edge
In salt soak Pacific, brief life extends
9th May 2021
Written for Contest: Summer Love Sonnet
Sponsor: John Hamilton
MISS JULY
Vitamin-D shot —
Temperate, she’s not!
She’s cool and she’s hot.
Miss July, her gold complexion shirks shade.
Possession of yacht —
Lease was a long shot.
Time reflects in knots —
The noctilucent cloud waves, sunlight sprayed.
Buds eternal thought:
Untrimmed moon garden sought.
At zenith, Vega spots
Delphinus the dolphin — East heaven played.
8/2/2019
A Summer's Day Redo Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner