Best Siree Poems
I always wanted two slices of ice cube pie
“You only get one”, was the standard reply.
I don’t know why I did
But since I was a kid
It was my favorite treat on the Fourth of July.
The pastry is known by all our relations
Since the recipe’s passed down for generations.
Every bite you’ll savoir
Exceptional flavor
But remember, don’t settle for imitations
Long ago, my great Aunt tried experiments
By leaving out one of the ingredients.
Once Uncle took a bite
He stared out in fright
And barely survived that bad experience.
My oldest son, Johnny became quite wise
He grew up like the others, before our eyes.
His passion for confection
Was a gainful connection
When he opened the first ice cube pie franchise.
Soon after that, we made our first million
And played in the sun with friendly Brazilians.
But to our surprise
We saw ice cube pies
On bamboo platters next to our pavilion
Right away we knew this was an infraction
Without delay our family took action.
We found a private eye
Who loved our ice pie
But his research left him broken in traction.
It was apparent to us that that kind of job
Was endorsed by the brutal ice cube pie mob.
But we didn’t frown
Or give up and back down
We were going to prevail; oh, yes siree, Bob!
With a meeting of minds we gathered resources
And then undersigned the following courses.
To make sure our ices
Sold at cut-rate prices
To knock competition off its high horses.
So back at the shop we assembled platoons
To build enough pies to reach to the moons.
And made plenty dough
That allowed us to mow
Down the cube racket’s, knuckle dragging goons.
We now manage an ice cube pie monopoly
Sales started smooth, but then turned choppily.
So we eased the frustration
With another vacation
But guess what we saw in downtown Mexicali?!
Categories:
siree, business, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Gullible I am
Gullible I will always be
Been burnt many a time
Lesson learnt….No Siree!
Soft hearted, trusting
Is who I am
Will I ever change
Lesson learnt…No Ma’am!
Categories:
siree, heart, humor, me, trust,
Form:
Rhyme
Infinite Dot Universe: A Spoof
This rhyming poem was inspired by Arthur Vaso.
It's about a poetic form, and just so you know...
these lines are being written just as a silly spoof
because some of my poems can be called a goof!
There's a new form called, "Infinite Dot Universe"
No, there really is not. Writing this, I feel perverse
because you see, I'd never tout my own poetry.
That would expose a definite lack of my humility.
The gist is that a person's favorite poet should be
him or herself. A bit like the haughty, Vivien Leigh
who thought, "Everything should be all about me."
If things didn't go her way, she'd say, "Fiddle dee dee!"
I digress and must confess this notion of Infinite Dot.
Perhaps instead of dot, let's rename it what it's not.
I think a narcissist would consider it more of a dote
claiming a masterpiece with each poem he/she wrote.
I have favorite poets, and one among them is not ME!
I wouldn't choose those I'd think special in PS. No siree!
That would be like saying who is worthy and who is not,
like the flawed Universe poetry form called Infinite Dot.
I know the first verses are nonsensical to say the least,
but they serve as a sword to slay an insensitive beast.
It's all "Much Ado About Nothing," I would tell a troll
who thinks he's of some importance. Ha! I took a poll.
Categories:
siree, how i feel, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
"Possums on the Run - Part 3"
Collecting cut
silver blue grass
carries garbage bags
green-ant bites, no siree,
this aint fun.
Stand guard, he’s the
lawn mower Pope
(she laughs)
on his ever vigilant run.
Look on him with sadness
Look on him with Love
“one less mouth to feed”,
she thinks,
“best to run run run”.
What could have been
lies under Palm, Pinaroo
buried under rain and Sun
never coming home…
He’s a roll your own man
sits on the back step
watching the setting sun
dark indigo shooting star sparkles
gecko changing colour on the wall
Fruit Bat squeals
hissing Bush Rat runs.
He’s thinking, “make
the lawn safer
ruddy trapdoor spiders,
poor piping hot water
down the holes
cover with dirt.
That’ll kill 'em,
stop the effers
before they bite ‘n hurt.”
Takes a sip of hot black Tea
gets up to iron the school shirts.
Sunday becomes Monday
becomes Tuesday bleeds
into remaining days
like Autumn leaves into
Winter trees bare barren branches
of each week, this is his life
these days his ever dwindling
seeds of memories.
What purpose day in day out
he is screaming on the inside
no where to voice it, no one to
share his Black Dog bouts.
“Make sure the table’s set for breakfast
and all the doors are locked girl,
before you turn the lights out”.
And you think,
“Is this all there is?”
You look through the windows
outside into the dark
along the fence
possums are running,
You think,
“Run Possums Run”.
Lynette, Linnet
a small bird, goddess, idol
ever golden burning Pheonix
on your shoulders
sings her fading song
“lovely child please,
never ever forget”
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
All 4 parts of "Possums on the Run" dedicated to an honourable man, an extremely courageous man, who served in both Royal Australian Army (first regiment into Vietnam) and Royal Australian Airforce, who lost his wife to cancer (32 yrs) and raised three girls on his own. This man was all about speaking his "TRUTH" and standing firm by what he believed in, my father V.C. (Peter) Burton.
1. T-Rex/Cosmic Dancer
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pw8BNPn6U
Categories:
siree, childhood, father daughter, journey,
Form:
Free verse
Dragon was in the park one day, and wanted to touch a rainbow. Yes siree’!
But no matter how close he got… It kept running ahead of him, you see.
Are rainbows really, so Shy? Why won’t he let me touch him? He did cry!
Doesn’t he really like me at all? Dragon being broken hearted; said it all.
I’m going somewhere over the rainbow, So Don’t bother to tell me, I can’t!
Aren’t I a mythological Dragon, aren’t I supposed to do what others can’t?
But, even little Dragons have limits, and, yes, he eventually found that out.
It totally broke his little heart, and mine, as he wandered so very hurt, about.
Cheer up, little dragon, I said as I cuddled him, as he lay down, and he did cry.
The rainbow loves you; see how he sends those colors, through the air, so high.
Long ago, when he left his Mama, and first came here from the rings of Saturn.
Many tried to steal his essence, but at the last moment, someone saved him.
Some said he was a Great man, others a Wizard, with a kind and gentle hand.
Now, no man may capture the rainbow, no matter how fast, or bold, they ran.
The Man that saved the Day, was from then on, called Santa Clause, my dear.
The rainbow gave Santa a gift, to be able to fly, and spread Christmas cheer.
And yes, also to the reindeer, which helped him, I do say to you, quite clear.
And like the rainbow, Santa and the reindeer, will never grow old, you hear?
If you see Santa fly thru the sky, you will see streaks from the little rainbow.
For they became such great and fast friends, on that day so very long ago…
Now they all celebrating Christmas together, with all the little girls and boys.
And the true meaning of Christmas is not lost on them, as they hand out toys.
For they are celebrate the birth of Christ…as they give and receive joy.
Now as Santa would say ‘Merry Christmas to all and to all a Very Good Night!’
Written 12-19-2015
Categories:
siree, celebration, christmas, fantasy, fun,
Form:
Light Verse
Grandpa and his kin gathered at the mill,
“It’s n’uther thanksgiving, y’all! Eat yer fill!
Hey cuzz Joe Bob, what’s the deal?
Whose turkey did y’all steal?”
What turkey? Y’all be chompin on road kill!
Yes siree y’all might have to chaw some,
But this barbequed swill be awesome!
Be a shame for it to waste,
So salt and pepper to taste,
And feast on some almost fresh possum!
Inspired by :
my poetry friend Carolyn Devonshire. : )
Categories:
siree, funny,
Form:
Limerick
dang,
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
killer-diller
khaki wacky boycrazygirl
a spiffy hot damn hoofer
during the dark hours of WWII
and the devastation
followed with
unrestrainedjubibilation
beat me daddy eight to the bar
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
franksinatracrooner
singing grandma put on her stompers
she was a babydoll soppysappysharp
a spiffy hot damn hoofer
worked in a factory
building partsforairplanes for the boys
no siree bob she was not giving up her job
she had
dreams
a white picket fence
in the
boondocks
grandma was-
a spiffy
hot damn
hoofer
no gobbledygook she told great stories
of what it was like
after the war forthetroops and all
pin-up girls like Marilyn Munroe
Elvis
Roy Orbison
Jerry Lee Lewis
drive-ins
fancy wheels ovaltine
casablanca goingmyway its a wonderful life
for whom the bell tolls earnesthemmingway
it was a time of attitude
no fuddy-duddy she had the gams
met grandpa doingtheswing
they had no lettuce moolah greenbacks
but they
were over the top
stuck on glued
bonkers in love oh grandma had
no fear of saying hi-de-ho
he said hey sugar are you rationed
dang
grandma was a real hubba bubba-
killer-diller
kacky wacky boycrazygirl
take a gander withyourpeepers
at this thingamabob poem
____________________________________
June 2, 2015
Free Verse
Inspired by the slang of the 1940's
For the contest, Talk the Talk and Walk the Walk, sponsor, Debbie Guzzi
First Place
Categories:
siree, grandparents, history, word play,
Form:
Free verse
If there ain't no Bacon in Heaven
I'm gonna keep right on sinning
For hell's where I rather be
If I can enjoy my BLT
Now don't be a judging
No use of nudging
If there ain't no Bacon in Heaven
Then Heaven ain't for me
That pure smell of delight
That gets you to jump up from night
Bacon for breakfast, yes siree
Bacon Bacon all for me
The smell of Bacon
The taste of Bacon
The flavor of Bacon
Crispy, chewy, fry or bake
Bacon Bacon for goodness sake
If there ain't no Bacon in Heaven
That's hard for me to believe
For how could there be no Bacon in Heaven
When Oscar Mayer is the patron saint of meat candy
Yes there is Bacon in Heaven
Saint Peter those angel wings are mine
The taste of Bacon can only be Divine.
Categories:
siree, food, funny, heaven, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Dragon always needs to be entertained, or there’s trouble brewing, I Say!
So we got him an electric train set, for him and his penguins the other day.
But naturally, he had to sit in the middle of the track, not to mention his tail!
It kept constantly, knocking that train, plumb off its tracks, without fail!
And his penguins were way to big, to ride those cars that go clickety clack.
Yes, siree’, every time the train started up, another calamity, set him back!
Nobody likes Dragon when he’s frustrated, and Grandpa Troll, least of all!
So he picked up Dragon, by the scruff of his neck, and that’s not easy, atoll!
He said the idea we had was a sound one, but it didn’t fit his age and size.
So he plunked him into the old hay wagon and began to take him for a ride!
Erelong the trolls had laid a wooden track, to run the wagon on for a furlong.
Dragon was having such great fun, that he decided to pull his penguins along.
Our neighbor witch made Dragon a fancy harness with which to pull them all.
Yep, there was more bling, per square inch, on it, than to count before next fall!
Here, it’s Spring with her sun, my poetry friends, giving him energy to burn.
And he was so energized, that every kid on the block, got more than one turn.
Yep, the parents brought them in their Easter Best, as cameras started to roll.
A circular track made it more fun as they all burst into great children’s’ songs!
Now Dragon had everyone’s eyes on him… so he was the happiest of them all.
Even the Trolls got long rides, you know, those who built the track, you recall?
So today we were all winning and swimming in fun, because of Grandpa Troll.
My moral is: fancy gadgets, aren't always what we need, when we want to play.
A little imagination and moving around can sometimes be better, to save the day.
And some times Fun, with no competition can bring friendships closer, your way.
Categories:
siree, childhood, fantasy, friendship, fun,
Form:
Light Verse
Dragon was in the park one day, and wanted to touch a rainbow. Yes siree’!
But no matter how close he got… It kept running ahead of him, you see.
Are rainbows really, so Shy? Why won’t he let me touch him? He did cry!
Doesn’t he really like me at all? Dragon being broken hearted; said it all.
I’m going somewhere over the rainbow, So Don’t bother to tell me, I can’t!
Aren’t I a mythological Dragon, aren’t I supposed to do what others can’t?
But, even little Dragons have limits, and, yes, he eventually found that out.
It totally broke his little heart, and mine, as he wandered so very hurt, about.
Cheer up, little dragon, I said as I cuddled him, as he lay down, and he did cry.
The rainbow loves you; see how he sends those colors, through the air, so high.
Long ago, when he left his Mama, and first came here from the rings of Saturn.
Many tried to steal his essence, but at the last moment, someone saved him.
Some said he was a Great man, others a Wizard, with a kind and gentle hand.
Now, no man may capture the rainbow, no matter how fast, or bold, they ran.
The Man that saved the Day, was from then on, called Santa Claus, my dear.
The rainbow gave Santa a gift, to be able to fly, and spread Christmas cheer.
And yes, also to the reindeer, which helped him, I do say to you, quite clear.
And like the rainbow, Santa and the reindeer, will never grow old, you hear?
If you see Santa fly thru the sky, you will see streaks from the little rainbow.
For they became such great and fast friends, on that day so very long ago…
Now they all celebrate Christmas together, with all the little girls and boys.
And the true meaning of Christmas is not lost on them, as they hand out toys.
For they are celebrating the birth of Christ…as they give and receive joy.
Now as Santa would say ‘Merry Christmas to all and to all a Very Good Night!’
Written 12-18-2014
Categories:
siree, celebration, christmas, fantasy, fun,
Form:
Light Verse
Lincoln, Lincoln
Lincoln, Lincoln he no stinkum
he was good man, yes siree.
He the one that set um free
makeum homes for you and me.
Him the one who wears black clothes
had tall hat and crooked nose.
He the tall and stately bird
people all around him heard,
as him giveum big address
at Gettysburg, him didum best.
Him was shot by John Wilkes Booth
oh, this man was quite uncouth.
Then they laid um Abe to rest
me thinks him the very best.
By: Marilyn Jennings
Categories:
siree, america, tribute,
Form:
Free verse
Change Aint Easy
We thought it was so simple back then
Things didn't need to have to make sense
different words were okay,
yep green on both sides of the fence
We just played
I was a boy
you were a girl
My hair straight yours had a bit of curl
Jumping on pogo sticks
feeling dizzy when we'd twirl
Boy things, girl things?
Forget it, let's follow that squirrel
Today kids gotta be gender neutral free
No labels, no siree
He's not a him and she aint a she
No one knows for sure who they might be
maybe somewhere in the middle or all three
I remember boys and girls climbing trees
hopscotch, jump rope and skinned knees
We'd pretend to sail the seven seas
Little kids didn't know about birds and the bees
We didn't have the politically correct disease
Yep, we were more interested in running with the breeze
Playing outside in sunshine
or even when it would freeze
Just kids building forts
Playing cowboys and Indians in our shorts
Using pieces of wood as racquets
on the tennis court
playing with snakes and toads
unconcerned with warts
Our biggest worry
was bringing home our school reports
Yes, I understand the world is changing
It's time to point fingers and start blaming
The past generation needs shaming
We're toothless fierce
But somehow
we still need taming
trying our best but lacking training
No need to worry
the old ways are fading
Now it's okay
if it's us you're hating
In time you'll be old
and with the new young you'll be debating.
I'll be long gone
Hopefully you won’t be complaining
Yep, change can be awfully frustrating...
Note: I put myself in an older person’s shoes and tried to imagine how things have changed since the 40s and 50s. The landscape has changed quite a bit since then. Each subsequent generation will look back and think their time was the good old days and the next generation will need to put their stamp on the world. Then their time will end, and the following generation will think they had it all wrong. As long as we keep trying hopefully we'll get more right than wrong.
Categories:
siree, boy, childhood, conflict, confusion,
Form:
Free verse
Rivers roll, across the lands
and their song is heard, by many ears.
While oceans roll, upon the sands
and cry their crystal tears.
The tides will help to cleanse the earth;
sand-showers; they are free.
Though ocean-lands, may have a wide girth;
the tides will find it, yes siree!
Water is the source of life;
a precious, roaming gift.
A lack of water, produces strife
and sands, they cannot shift.
So pray, the rain, will always come.
To water’s music; life must hum.
Categories:
siree, environment, nature, ocean, poetry,
Form:
Sonnet
One day I was really busy with chores as my son was sitting all around.
Not helping, he was driving me crazy as he got in the way, in leaps and bounds.
Every few seconds he was asking what to do, and acting, oh so bored.
His whining and irritation carried on, as all my suggestions, he deplored.
In a moment of weakness, I told him to go fly a kite high up in the blue…
Well, we all know how karma has its way, and comes around so true…
He found a kite and sailed it with a kid with wilder views, outdoors.
Sure enough, trouble began as a girl in tears came running to my door.
She was begging me to save her froggy friend, the one she so adored.
For he was indeed taking a trip to worldly heights, as that kite soared.
Panicked, thoughts of a little broken froggie now sailed thru my mind.
And PETA knocking down my door was of course not far behind.
Chores forgotten, and with eyes full of horror I raced out the door.
Low and behold a kite that never could seem to get off the ground, before…
Was soaring at 200 feet where it continued to climb and soar, some more.
I figured my sons real want, had been to get attention from his Mom, for sure.
And he had won as we were together, as we tried to get that froggy to our side.
But he kept telling me the froggy had, himself, jumped twice on the kite, to ride.
But of course I didn’t believe him as we fought for froggy’s life.
After an hour of swoops and dives while praying for the best, amid the strife.…
Finally he was settled in a tree. But was the little guy happy? Did you guess?
No siree! No way! For when the kite took off again, I must confess…
With a leap of faith… he was again riding that kite as it shot up like an arrow.
And my son told me SEEEE I told you he really wanted to go…
As I reeled him quickly in, I ate a little crow, for not believing in him, before.
As we brought the froggy back down…I explained he didn’t want to soar…
But no matter what he wanted… he must not let him, ever sail again…
For my son was old enough to now understood the danger he’d been in.
I told him it was his responsibility to protect and pay attention to his little friend.
Instead give him love and attention, and to always be kind to him.
Dedicated to my Hubby always encouraging me on this site. PS: This is fictional.
Categories:
siree, adventure, caregiving, fantasy, travel,
Form:
Rhyme
"Camptown Races sing this song, Do Dah! Do Dah!"
( sung incessantly by a certain, unique rooster.)
Henry Hawke: ( Sung to Holly Jolly Christmas:)
" I'll be there and back by sunset.
There's a chicken there for me!
Mom and Dad will be proud, you bet!
when a chicken, they'll see!"
Henry: ( Sung to Arkansas Traveler:)
" I think that there's a chicken, yes, indeed!
No need to check, that's a chicken, yes, siree!
I know that that's a chicken , yes, indeed!
Even though he has a snout for pecking at the seed!"
POW! ( cue woozy music.)
Barnyard Dog:
Hey, wait a minute, kid!
Have you flipped your lid!"
Henry:
" I hit you a good one and I'm the winner!
Now come along with me! You're what's for dinner!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Eh, kid.. I'm a dog, don't you get it!
Now, scram! Before I make you regret it!"
" Camptown races, sing this song..
I say , I say.. it's not the words,
son, it's the song
It kind of.. eh, moves me along, err.."
Henry:
" Oh, the shame!
The family name!
Life for me will never be the same!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Someone's given you the bum steer!"
He looks at Henry crying.
" Kind of gets you right here..
Tell ya, what, kid!
I'll give you a real clucker with all the feathers!
Now listen to me, the sooner the better.." Pss. psst. pss..
"Camptown Races, Uhh, oh, I say, I say..
What do we have here?!
An unholy alli, alli alli, joining together.
and the word is ..Beware!"
I say, son!
What are, what are you doing here
in my little slice of paradise?!"
Henry:
"Ehh, Mister Cock-a-Doodle Doo..
I'd turn around if I were you!"
"Heh, heh heh..
Obviously, this boy believes
that I was born yesterday
if not the day before!
Let me lead him on a little more.."
"Just what am I supposed to see, there, ehh, son?
The rising moon? The setting sun? Heh, Heh, Heh.."
BAM!
"I, I, I think I've been way layed.
I, I, better look for some shade.."
PLOP!
"That boy's got more nerve than a bum tooth!
ehh, that's a joke, son!
Miss Prissy! My my time has come too soon!"
Eeee, THUD!
Henry and Barnyard Dog( together.):
"Geez, What a maroon!"
Cue the Looney Tunes end music.
(" Eer.. That's your cue, son!")
" Can't find no good cartoon help these days!" THUD!
THAT'S ALL FOLKS!
Categories:
siree, animals, fantasy, parodyme, me,
Form:
Light Verse