Best Slicker Poems
You’ll find that I have core beliefs, that are not written in any one book.
I believe that Jesus loves me. He’s all around, so please, take a look.
He doesn’t give me what I may want, or an answer to every prayer.
But he gives me exactly what I need, and the assurance that he’ll always be there.
I’ll never worship fine paper, or the ink you’ll find printed on each page.
I trust what he puts in my heart, and I’m thankful for his generous wage.
He was there when my dear mother died, and he came for my father as well.
I’ve always felt his loving hands, every time that I climbed up and fell.
This man was not American, he was born far across the sea.
He never closed his borders, and he died for both you and me.
All of us have an obligation to stand up and do what is right.
Whenever evil threatens, that’s when we must go and fight.
I’ve heard we should mind our business and watch out for only our own.
Would you ever tell that to God, and wished that he left you alone?
I don’t care if you’re a city slicker, or a redneck in a chevy or ford.
My faith lies in each one of you, and in Jesus, my savior and Lord.
~~~
Sunlight sweeps above the dale, while shades of Heather lift their veil
Then gentle mist of morning swirls, enhancing dawn with nature's pearls
~
Songbird's flight encircles glen, to spot late crawler's search for den
Yet...
Not all that dwells in understory, hides this day... this day's their glory
~
The songbirds flee... the piper grins
"Far Darrig O'Malice yer at it again"
The silence broke
the wildwoods rustle
from near and far, the wee ones hustle
~
The songs roll out
the barrels too
the leprechauns abandon shoe
They all break out one piece of gold, to waste before their play grows cold
~
They barter sheep while lifting hogs
They saddle ... ride ... the farmer's dogs
And all the while they laugh and shout, they never spill their mugs of stout
~
The Cluricauns with stouter trumpet, descend the town... subdue the strumpet
Spend their purse to chase romance
the quean much slicker, steals their pants
~
Within the glen with dusk's approach, the smoke gets thick as suppers roast
The music swirls, the echoes sail, the dancers chant an Irish tale
~
An those with naked butts are taught... they stop, it gives the bugs a shot
Far Darrigs crawl beneath the kegs, they pop the corks and fill their legs
~
St. Patrick's blessed another year
The sound of snoring
now all you hear
~~~
Angels - 12/28/21 This is a true story experienced by the poet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel in a Whirlwind
Storm of the decade descends upon the day
Torrents of howling rainfall flood the streets
Banshee winds whip trees, waves upon the bay
Gloomy clouds shadow skies – sunlight in retreat.
Faithful Wheaten, Snickers, too weak to stand
Brightest amber terrier eyes listless in the storm
The rainbow bridge calls to you – gentle command
My broken heart in gusts of windswept mourn.
Now the daylight leaves early – taking the light;
Winter’s hand lays heavy upon the sky;
My tears fall like raindrops dotting the night;
Comfort alludes me in the fading light.
Faithful childhood friend embraces my sorrow
Dinner invitation and shopping at the mall
“Come tonight - please don’t wait until tomorrow.”
Our old habits die hard – we hear the mall call.
Standing on a corner a lady with a Wheaten puppy
Not a hair out of place – not waterlogged or soggy
All felt calm around her – the chaos ceased -
The wind stopped howling in her chrysalis of peace.
Jumping up in greeting just like beloved Snickers
I said farewell with teary eyes in a rain soaked slicker
Pain vanished like a phantom – angelic smile released;
Gentleness of this grace put my heart at ease.
One last question posed “Where did you find your pup?”
Directed to a breeder – my hope rising up
One last puppy longing, waiting for a home
Littermates with new families – this one all alone.
The world stopped spinning on winter’s wings
Warm brown eyes, soft grey ears helped pain lose its sting
Cuddled in our arms softly sleeping in the night.
Theodore our new pup – name means gift of God and light.
Angel in a whirlwind, I never saw your wings
But I know you were God’s messenger like crocus for the spring
My heart filled with gratitude for your mission to this child
And I’ve been seeing angels ever since the storm.
Well, I moved into town to live like a city slicker,
Loaded my truck, found a place, and here I am,
Though a country boy has a head a bit thicker,
City life is not so hard to understand,
And I've been learnin' how to use a computor,
How to do some picture takin' with a cell phone,
How to get insurance for my truck and motor scooter,
But city life is nothing like back home,
Because where I come from, they call it the boonies,
Dirt roads, back woods, life as country as can be,
Though now I'm mixed in with all the town loonies,
They'll never take the country out of me,
Yea, I can still plant me a nice little garden,
Though not nearly as big as it use to be,
And still listen to country music, Dolly Parton,
She's on my coffee mug for all to see,
And I still get to do some dear huntin'
For those split tails runnin' 'round here,
And I make sure to keep my truck tuned and runnin'
By way of Auto Zone, or I'd run out of beer,
Yea, I livin' in the hood, straight from the boonies,
It's great be an American and free,
Though I'm mixed in good with all the town loonies,
They'll never take the country out of me,
Yea, I moved into town to live like a city slicker,
And I'm doin' the best that I can...
I can drive by Churchill Downs and hear the horses nicker,
I'm just a country boy with a city slicker plan,
I can drive by Churchill Downs and hear the horses nicker,
I'm still a country boy, yea, that's who I am,
Though a country boy has a head a bit thicker,
City life is not so hard to understand.
My son and his family drove down from the big city,
out to the countryside with open fields and steams.
They brought their standard golden poodle along,
a curly-haired fellow, name of Timmy.
Timmy had never seen a cat;
not even a mole or a furry rat.
Visiting country kin, he was checking things out.
Everything went fine that very first day.
Cats went about paying him no mind.
He walked about just passing time.
On that second day there was a big mistake.
Being a city dog with more worldy ways,
to add pleasure to his hum-drum days,
he thought it time to befriend these country kin.
The cats had never seen a dog this small,
only those on stilts, big, long and tall,
like Pyrenees, big wide mouths and teeth to match.
With barking big dogs on the scene,
up a tree they squirreled, never to be seen.
But this golden-haired fellow, with city clout--
they’d give him benefit of instinctive doubt.
Mama cat was even so bold
to sniff this city slicker right on the nose.
Sizing him up all the while, a friendly rat, she surmised,
a might bigger than some she had seen,
playing cat and mouse, yet acting so coy;
that is, until that overgrown golden-haired rat
walked up to Mama’s black baby boy.
Mama’s two other sons, another black and a blue,
began to gather nearer this city dweller, too.
Timmy politely extended his nose.
black son cat extended his razor-sharp claws,
with a bristled tail and fierce hissing jaws.
Timmy let out with a painful yelp,
as Mama cat called all boys in for help.
Cats surrounded and gave chase to the dog,
life-fearing circles around the cedar tree he’d log;
four hissing cats hot on his tail,
poor Timmy yelping in a desperate wail.
The master of Timmy gave rescue,
but Mama cat and her three grown sons,
strutting in pride, putting a dog on the run.
Written by: Carolyn Henderson
For Constance LaFrance's Cat Poem Contest
Won 9th Place
Round heels of crumpets,
aromatic lavender jam.
Poached eggs in a skillet,
succulent portions of ham.
An awakening stretch had heralded
a yawn mouthed long and loud.
While rain fell down in splatters
from the dark pewter clouds.
Dated Macintosh slicker,
hoary exhausted gum boots.
Tenacious steps into nature
in search of family and roots.
The fallacies of the wind
twists hair into long plaits.
Across wide fields of enchantment
new journeys await.
"American Grafitti" took me back again to High School in the 1960's
"Back to the Future's" nifty hot rod took me back in time and almost left me!
"City Slickers" took me way out west, to rustle cows and ride a horse
"Da Vinci's" code, did not bode well, the Vatican did not endorse!
"E. T. " turned out to be my friend, we peddled bikes far past the moon
"Forrest Gump" shared my lunch, and shared his chocolate just past noon
"Groundhog Day" is darn confusing, is it Monday or is it Tuesday?
"Hannibal" is one cruel dude,..........he sharpens teeth so he can chew me!!
"I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry" invited me to toast their wedding
"Jaws" invited me to take a swim! Those who did, were soon regretting!
"King Kong", was one poor ape who climbed too high for past mistakes,
"Lincoln" had too much at stake, but ended war between the states
"Mummy 1" and "Mummy 2" made me cry for Mommy,...PLEASE!
"No Country for Old Men"...but young dudes look, and want to leave!
"O' Brother Where Are Thou?" escaped their chains to play like Ringo
"Psycho's" bathtubs scare me silly, my next motel will be Flamingo's
"Quarantine" because I'm sick? If I stay in bed, they call me lazy
"Rosemary's Baby"...yikes that kid? Babysit....?? Are you crazy?
"Superman" claimed that he could help me, but flew away with no advice
"Titanic" hit a piece of ice, (that Superman was not so nice!)
"Unforgiven" (now is Superman)...Clint Eastwood is the slicker guy
"Valkyrie"'s plot has thickened...Let's all poke Hitler in the eye!
"When Harry Met Sally" I was jealous....her cafe' scene has made me blush
Xanadu had me roller skating.......racing faster, while I'm dating
"Young Sherlock Holmes" was just a kid, I kid you not, he met his Watson
"Zoolander" 's slacks were Cuban made.. I borrowed some and they were awesome!
(and I'm exhausted!)
______________________________________________
For Cyndi's exhausting ABC contest!! Whew!
A spring rain falling
watching him jump in puddles
bright yellow slicker
2/2/14
Faberette
is the name of my wild
and incorrigible cat...
down the stairs she scurries
to keep intruders off my door;
and she, with her sharps claws,
challenges the most vicious dogs,
who would like a match
on my newly carpeted floor...
without letting me breaking up the fight!
Faberette,
eat your food and grow strong,
they will be back with their groan,
but your meows won't do much;
let me teach you how to win a fight
and keep them off for good...
more faith you must have in me!
Faberette...
come here and jump in my lap;
Faberette...there's no need for fright!
They haven't bothered you for a week now,
they must have sensed a change indeed;
and like friendly dogs they play and crawl,
instead of pulling off your spotted fur!
And cautiously you mingle with them with minimal fear...
can cats and dogs in friendship suceed?
But a word of caution I should make you aware of,
not all of them can change
and remain tame for long...
Faberette, be slicker than they are!
Faberette,
on my leather couch lies
under a warm blanket...
I pat her, and her feline eyes
flash the warmest glow; and I couldn't be
more proud of this wonderful pet,
keeping me company and share moments of joy!
And on her birthday, I even buy her a kitten toy!
O Faberette,
my adorable cat!
Softer than snow flurries
Slicker than cigarette smoke
Sizzling than bouncy bubbles in an open soda can
Ticklish like a patient soul after a rouch day
Sweeter like a loving tongue
Curious like a dog's muzzle sniffing and living
Foggy like a neglected sleep
Love like cold and grey
Introverted like a deck of cards
Playdough like mud, like words in poetry, like soles and souls of poetry.
man donned in yellow
rain slicker dripping wet knocked....
two pomegrantes
sweet husband bearing
gifts of the pomegrante...
one large, one small fruit
three pomegrante
bushes only fruit bearing...
remembers just me
She arrived from the big city
wearing a red ten-gallon hat,
and a denim stone-washed outfit
which topped off her shiny new
cowboy boots that were designed
by Tucson Sue.
This dude ranch cowgirl had a secret,
she never rode a horse in her life,
she knew it was time to learn the ropes,
all her life she lived in the city,
the closest she got to a horse was on T.V.,
it was a shame and a pity.
Early next morning she arose,
washed her face, brushed her teeth
and combed her curly hair,
carefully placing her tall hat on her head,
she sauntered into the dining hall.
looked around and decided to sit next to Fred.
He was a cowpoke who roamed from town to town,
grabbing jobs wherever he could working with horses,
the young lady and Fred made small talk,
she confessed she never rode a horse before,
and didn't know the front end from the rear,
he knew she was a city slicker and had to learn more.
Fred took a liking to her right away,
he told her that he had a perfect horse for her,
her name was Ginger, a stawberry roan,
the only problem was that she had a three-legged gait,
would she mind learning on Ginger for her first time,
she noticed that the cowpoke was handsome was this fate?
She told him that her name was Cindy Lee,
he liked the sound of her name and thought she was pretty,
off on the trail they rode together,
Ginger with her uneven trot headed straight into a tree branch,
Knocking off the young lady from her saddle,
She tumbled and fell and wished she was back at the ranch.
Cindy Lee and Fred fell in love while she was on vacation,
he taught her to ride and learn about horses,
she was determined to hang on and not let go,
Ginger was replaced by a quarter horse who knew leg commands,
a palomino with lots of pride who on occasion would throw its rider
against a fence and snort without demands.
Fred and Cindy Lee decided to get hitched,
a September wedding was planned with everyone invited,
all the dude ranch staff and the entire small town,
both rode their horses on their wedding day very much in love,
she wore an old-fashioned lace dress with her boots,
off they rode into the sunset together peaceful as a dove.
Born of the light, shadowed by the darkness of time
Theseus knew, not the love of a father nor friend
Seen for the man he should be by an 'ancient' sublime
Bound by the love of a mother, whose love wouldn't bend
Raised with a mothers love in begrudging of times
Always a watchful eye and a helping hand
Scorned by her peoples, outcast, for anothers crime
Lowly in stature, exalted by Gods demands
A friend stood by, shoulder to shoulder
Prepared for to fall, by his side
Unflinching, steadfast, as a boulder
A voice, in the Holy Land
The 'Oracles' eyes are opened by that which she saw
'He' wielding the 'bow of the Gods' by his side Ezekiel
A body encased in a shroud, left her trembling, in awe
His race it is run with the Hellacious hounds at his heels
Bathed in the gaze of her beauty
Wrapped in the veil of her smile
Torn in the Hell of his duty
Daring to walk, the long mile
Trained in the art of war by the God of Gods
Heart beating rapid, but strong through endless odds
Faster and slicker than most, in a lethal dance
Raised for this War of Wars, to quell evils advance
Laid at his feet, like the kill of a rabid dog
Battered and broken, yet, vengeance is all he demands
Blinded by sweat and by pain in the clearing fog
He strikes at the giants weakness... with dying hands
rondeau
Envision your route, it's quicker.
Like your crowds thinner or thicker?
Traffic can ruin a trip, no fun;
my choice - less-traveled paths, bar none.
country bumpkin / city slicker?
Long journeys can be a kicker;
on a bus, some snore, some snicker.
Think through your options one by one.
Envision your route.
Some folks will dally and dicker?
Others like to blame and bicker?
think ahead ere the trip's begun;
you'll be happier when it's done.
If you drive, don't drive on liquor,
envision your route.
written 07/27/12, revised 07/19/19
to meet requirement of 8 syllable lines.
Host: Charles Messina - Contest: Rondeau
The Camp Cooky’s singin again outa tune,
about turnin 60 today around noon
"What good is there in it?" I hear him say,
and it got me to thinkin . . . seein it was his birthday
It seems bein 60’s got two spins to that tale,
one frittered and wrinkled, the other covered in shale
The one who’s 60 if truth be told,
is still younger than all those 61—to real old
In the campfire’s crackle of light I can see,
how everyone younger, is likely dumber than me
So if my hands struggle with the knots and riggin fer sure,
the knowin and the tellin to those younger’s worth more
Havin outlived many a cow horse, while lovin them all,
the awnry and skitterish, the short and the tall
The summers ridin drag, and the worst winters mendin fence,
with a slicker full a holes, and that ol dog with no sense
And while the cuttin and the brandin seems boring to some,
it’s the importance of their nature and gettin things done
When the hats and the spurs and even the saddles are all gone,
and the sun sinks over that last mountain, like in Dusty’s ol song
I’ll remember the good times, lettin go of the bad,
and think back on the pards and the ladies I’ve had
Because just like for Cooky, it happened last year to me,
and turnin 60 seemed ranker than any bronc could ever be
But like that new Visalia saddle the boss man said was now mine,
I've found somethin that’s different, somethin gentler and kind
The speed and the strength ain’t been traded for free,
and somethin woke up that I guess was sleepin in me
And as I yell to the wrangler “Cut me one gentle and nice”
without loosin too much pride I ask, “Can you help Ol Jim
cinch his riggin real tight”
Then once more in the dark I ride off in search of the herd,
singin that one favorite cow song every real hand has heard
And as I inch up on the lead steer whisperin mellow and low,
“Yippee ki yay, Ol Fella; you ready to go”
For maybe one last time we push North thru the dark,
the sun still two hours off to the right of our mark
While in the distance a wolf howls, as that lead steer catches my eye,
and in that instant I know I’m still needed—a long ways from g’bye
(Dewey Montana: Circa 1990) Read In Elko Nevada, 1993