Best Slobs Poems
If guns don’t kill people
Why are so many people dead
Another moms child
shot in the head
Blackboards white chalk
splattered in Red
A teacher killed
For something she said
Victim after victim
Demons need to be fed
On violence they’ve been bred
We shouldn’t need
Metal detectors at School
A place of innocence has become cruel
What happened to the Golden Rule
Have we all taken on
the role of a fool
A gun isn’t just a harmless tool
It’s a weapon of mass destruction
and the most potent hate fuel.
I am scared by the NRA narrative
The power and control amendment imperative
Off to Washington lobbyist slobs
More and more gun factory jobs
Guns don’t lead to the collaborative
Weapons should not be the normative.
We have got in the habit of not looking up above
No gun has ever led to acts of love.
So until politicians become brave
Our society is a slave
Problems grow over time
We shouldn’t be so naive
Profiteers shouldn’t determine what we believe
In the end there are to many lives to grieve.
We gave Johnny a gun and a uniform
Trained him to kill, in a regiment conform
Sent him deep into Vietnam jungles warm
With little regard to how we did him harm
So certain we knew what we joined to fight for
We were shipped off to fight an unwinnable war
A war of "containment," unlike those before
Mothers screamed, fathers wept, siblings ached to the core
By parachute dropped to a ghastly death scene
Johnny ached for the life left behind, so serene
His family, fiance did not know what war means
Especially the haunting of lost children's screams
Those of us who survived thought we'd just done our jobs
We returned and were shamed by violent gobs
Of silver-spoon white kids in hate-spewing mobs
Spat-on and welcomed as baby-killer slobs
No heroes welcome would await these young men
No ticker-tape parades were staged for them
Just jeers from crowds, uncaring government
Greeted the lonely Vietnam Veteran
Too classy and noble to demand our fair share
We lay in that shabby old hospital there
In a closet-sized room with no visitors' chair
Understaffed, underfunded, with short-handed care
The "benefits" they found would astound all now
And it leaves one to wonder how our hallowed ground
Would be filled with unnamed graves of men once proud
Before the rows of white crosses we should bow
Our Wailing-Wall stands now in Washington, D.C.
So shiny but black, a telling-tale of the fee
We have paid for our nation, our land of the free
Will you come pay respects? Will you not at last see?
Some veterans still suffer disgraceful neglect
So please explain who more deserves our respect
Let us pause with angelic choirs and genuflect
To show gratitude as on this Wall we reflect
Friends, Dane Ann is among those who served in the army during the Vietnam war and is
now recovering from long-overdue hip surgery performed at an old VA hospital in
Gainesville, Florida. Thank you for your prayers on her behalf. Many thanks
to Tim Ryerson, another Vietnam veteran, for joining me in this write.
#1
Put the toilet seat down.
What woman wants to end up falling into the toilet in the middle of the night?
#2
Stop changing the channel.
Believe me guys, when women are trying to watch a soap opera, you best leave the remote alone.
#3
Put your own dirty clothes in the laundry.
I hate picking up crusty socks.
#4
Stop farting at the table.
Do you mind? I'm trying to eat.
#5
Excuse yourself when you burp.
And they say our children have to have manners.
#6
Roll your own damn cigarette.
When was the last time you rolled me one?
#7
Clean your messes up.
Trust me guys, you're a bunch of slobs.
#8
Don't call me stupid.
We women are just as smart, if not smarter than you are.
#9
Move out of my way.
When a woman is trying to get something done, the man always stands in the middle of the room.
#10
Turn the music down.
I know you guys love your music loud, but sheesh!
#11
Get out!
The least you guys could do is give us a little privacy in the bathroom.
#12
Do it yourself.
I'm sure you guys are smart enough to do things on your own.
#13
Get it yourself.
Guys, get your lazy, fat butts off the couch and make your own sandwich.
#14
Use your manners.
We don't like being told what to do without a simple please and thank you.
#15
Take your boots off at the door.
Women hate it when men carry dirt into the house after just cleaning the floors.
#16
Shut up!
When we are trying to watch a movie, that means we are trying to hear it too.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Sept.24/2004
I know some of these sound mean. No offense guys.
The see-saw backsides of obesity traverse across the promenade
Led by bustling torpedo breasts thrusting through the hustling throng;
Past tarnished chromium espresso bars, burger vans with frying lard,
Ice cream parlours, sagging deckchairs and the sunlight blazing on.
Splayed upon the greying sands with butts of cigarettes in shallow graves,
Bikini babes in thin floss thongs, sun oil basted, lie and fry,
The effluence of sewage farms foams ochre crests upon the waves,
Cheap sunglasses and tinted shades warp vision as the seagulls cry.
Or are they coughing in the choking rise of hotdog onion smoke,
Or searing blast of diesel oil drove upwards from the fairground sprawl,
And do they dive for fish and chips discarded by the glutted folk
Until cholesterol weighs them down and they no longer fly but crawl?
Oh, I did like to be beside the seaside in the golden memories of my youth,
Before the tattooed mobs and greedy slobs and moguls came to town,
And though rose-tinted, real dreams of childhood wonder sing of truth,
But now I’d much prefer it if they torched and burned the whole place down.
Humans are we with bodies of structures complex.
Death comes to all of us though in varying effects.
Flesh. blood and bone are we, held together by
sinews. Also we have organs on which we rely.
Bipeds are we –meant to walk with postures straight.
We dance and ride and run, adapting to our favorite gait.
Intelligences are we, but few have the audacity
to use perhaps a fifth of our brain’s capacity.
Mortals are we, unlike One who had the power never to be dead.
Had He not been willing, He’d not have sacrificed Himself instead.
We are a mystery. To scientists we come from evolution.
Unfaithful souls refuse acceptance of any Godly solution.
Together all as one, we are called Humanity,
but racism and cruelty show much insanity.
We are parents, siblings, spouses, and the list goes on and on.
Our ancient kin are many. By the time we’re born, they all are gone.
We are workers; we are slobs; we are losers; we are winners.
If wise, we learn that love is all, even love for sinners.
We are members of societies with presidents and chiefs,
many who start wars over differing beliefs.
We are colors of our skin, called black, brown, and white.
And even red and yellow. Such titles don’t seem right.
We are categorized by classes though most the world is poor.
The middle class knows comfort; the rich live in grandeur.
We are sufferers of hardships, of trials, pain and grief.
Joy we also know in this earthly time so brief . . .
We are our brother’s keeper, and none deserve neglect.
All we really need are love, kindness and respect.
Well perhaps I should talk about foreclosure,
Let’s see, at first as it begins to happen
it feels like your life is being flattened
By a big ole dozer.
It is an especially dire , disheartening fate,
When one’s credit has been almost eight.
You’ve toiled hard and cleared the land,
remodeled the house in the course of seven years
and built a six stall barn by your own hand
with literally your blood sweat and tears.
Oh yes, the post and board fencing
In a Florida sun that’s unrelenting
And the two small rectangular decks
built by dumpster material specs!
Built a sixteen by sixteen air conditioned man cave,
Or it could be a dog house, I guess
If this week you’re not your wife’s fave…
anyway, a nice place, a hobby nest.
All this done while working for the man,
Scraping by with an upside down loan,
Gratefully doing the best you can…
Notwithstanding an occasional moan.
Had to work a few side jobs
To make ends meet.
Some for unethical slobs
But some folks were sweet.
We’ve grown a lot of veggies on our seven acre patch.
Home grown maters and string beans are hard to match.
Then after nine years the man leaves a message on your answering device..
“Found someone cheaper move your stuff out now.” …That ain’t so nice.
Well it’s been hand to mouth and now looks like we’ll lose this place,
Real upset at first but then, one just can’t keep up that pace,
At this age I’ll just roll with the punches ; of late, it’s come in bunches,
Now we’ve graduated from upset to feeling grateful,
God’s got a plan, much better plan; no sense in being hateful.
We’re looking forward to the best, in God’s hands we’ll leave the rest.
In this market, to all who have lost their home,
we’re with you, we understand, God bless you all and…
Shalom.
Hawk-teuchin - spitting up phlegm
Nimmer - dinner
Gundie-guts - fat slobs
Mickle-moud - great big mouth
Sachleasly - Innocently
Muckle herts - big hearts
Rabbie wis hawk-teuchin frae the back o’ his sare throat,
Afore he gave his efter nimmer speech.
He said tae the landed gentry, “ye’re a set o’ gundie-guts,
But far be it frae me tae staund up here an’ preach.
Ye ken ah’ve stacks o’ gumption fur ye widna asked me by
Tae render words o’ prose frae ma mickle-moud:
Sae sachleasly ah’ll spout ma rhyming ware fur ye,
It’ll mak yer muckle herts feel staunch an’ proud.”
Despairing all the popular belief
We are working for your relief
Creating millions of jobs
To pacify all you slobs
Oh, and don't believe what you read
Lonely people in a crowd, lonely people all around
People chatting everywhere, sounds of laughter fill the air
Laughter loud throughout the room, loud pulsating empty sound
Inconsequential chatter, idle gossip all can share
Lonely people in a crowd, lonely people all around
Laughter ringing in the air, laughter hiding their despair
Chatter, chatter everywhere, the intellectuals and the snobs
Doctors, lawyers, accountants, sad drunks and gay movie stars
Young girls flirting, men staring, overweight people eating like slobs
Part time hookers , some divorcees and the men with large cars
And yet together their patter it means nothing at all
Their laughter so empty as it drifts down the hall
Desperate lonely people, wandering in and out of bars
Unhappy people grabbing at air, their lives filled with lies
People who won’t comprehend money won’t buy you the stars
People with no real meaning to their dull and hollow lives
People without knowing, giving out sad empty vibes
Lonely people in a crowd, soundless sobs and soundless cries
Chatter, chatter everywhere, as shrill laughter fills the air
I don’t want to be part of that empty shallow sound
Laughter ringing in the air, laughter hiding their despair
I want to be needed with caring people around
I don’t want to hear my empty laughter in the hall
I can’t bear to think that life has no meaning at all.
Sometimes I feel like such a jerk
To hear friends talk of long lost work
Few leave their homes
All had good jobs
From nine to five
Just working slobs
When all is really said and done
Where was real life?
Where was the fun?
So as the years now just roll by
And no one really cares a bit
To hear these has beens spew their wit.
Hold it jumping knife
Lead me now
Off pride quality resembling stationary trains
Under velvet willows
xylem yields Zephaniah
Angelic baritone can decorate
Everything from giants hollering inspirational jargon
Kids leaping mysteriously
No-one obscures problematically quaint
Redound steadfast triumphs
unwarrantably viscous wispy
XX
YY
Zany are bold claims
Diluted evaporates frost growth
Highly~Ineffective indefinite Jade•Green knavish
Limitation manifests naturally over periods
Quantify
Regurgitated slaves troublesome ugly vagrants
Wonderfully xenophobic yearlong zadnica,
****(nic) betrothed chatter delusional escapades
Fondled gifts harass innocent journey-men
Knowledge learnt more-so note-worthy opting-out
Presidential quarts recollection subsides
Troublesome undergrads vigorously womanize
***
Yesterday's Zzz's awaken by cognitive dialect
Eventually freshmen graduate
Hiding inside jambalaya ketamine
Luring man nonchalantly obsesses prostitution
Quietly
Real sex trumping unnamed vagina wilding-out
XYZ
Ambivalent bass clowns drenched excessively
Fake giggles heard intuitively
Jakaroos knock loudly mocking noises
Obesity plagues queen rich slobs
Time undos vestiges
Worry
X
Y
Z
•THE END•
10~07~16
Goodness Gracious!
My classmates are all hot messes,
They all managed to get cookie crumbs
all over their dresses,
They have warped into little monsters!
Attacking snacks as if they were Edward
Scissorhands,
I can't bear to look,
Their antics are repulsive man,
Please stop the presses and the publicity!
Someone needs to show these kids how to
eat,
How can anyone go from enjoying a meal,
to being the most notorious violators
of fine cuisine...?
There is no peeling, patting or baking
involved, so why is it so hard to partake
politely, without being ghastly and unsightly?
Goodness Gracious!
It is such a turn off when youngsters act like
complete slobs,
I wonder how they would fare eating pasghetti
in globs? Or cotton candy melting by the millisecond?
They would probably need a Nursemaid......
I reckon.
In the great scheme of life, many choices you make,
Where to work, who to date, your yard when to rake.
The game of hearts is not quite the same,
Who you love and end up with, is all based on aim.
Yes Cupids aim, is sometimes not good,
Dam arrow it lands, in many a strange hood.
Once per chance the target is hit,
They may be charming, attractive and full of wit.
Only the lucky lovers get this type of win,
The arrow is known to bring pain, shame and sin.
Never knowing what's in store for you,
Loving arms and a partner that’s totally true,
Or an unfaithful idiot, to make you real blue.
You may think you scored, they look smokin' hot,
Having sex day and night, you love them a lot.
This sounds pretty awesome, is there a down side?
Not unless you count secrets, and the lovers he hides.
The girl that finds sales, and will spend all your cash,
She goes out on black Friday, doing the fifty yard dash.
Coming home the next day, a smile on her face,
I saved money here, and there, and lets not forget that place!
What she fails to tell you, is your fresh out of money,
Say something about it, she'll resign as your honey.
The men are no better, there tempers get hot,
Slobs and the lazy, and the ones that smoke pot.
Choices-cont
One time in the game, Cupid seemed to shoot straight,
He gave me a lover, to see I couldn’t wait.
We had some good times, but the end is the same,
Bad excuses, feelings hurt, another to tame.
Please freakin' Cupid, have a talk with William Tell,
Take an archery lesson, or your bow I will sell.
You keep making me fall, for the wrong type of mate,
Just want a good friend, not someone to hate.
Visit poemsbypaulie.com
A Well Balanced Beer
A well-balanced beer may cost this gal dearly
It’s a cabaret act the tax guys said clearly
They caught her “act” in a bar late one night
And the way she poured beer they said was “all right!”
She would balance a glass, sometimes 3, sometimes 4
Right there on her frontage and then she would pour
They said it’s an act, she said it’s my job
It brings in the tips from the beer drinking slobs
They took her to court, they said she should pay
Over 44 thousand and she said “no way”
She knew the law, she had been there before
For indecent dress and a little bit more
When the judge threw the case it was greeted with cheers
For they too had enjoyed a couple of beers
College Tuition Goes Up and Up
By Elton Camp
There is hardly any college that even tries
To find a way it can reasonably economize
With their plans it doesn’t seem it need fit
Because they have found a money-filled pit
If the college’s finances should get a bit rough
Then on students & parents they make it tough
Tuition and fees they will raise again this year
Also the next year, so reductions they never fear
They think there’s no limit to what folks will pay
It doesn’t bother them to treat students that way
So they try to see just how much they can get
No matter about student loans and crushing debt
They hire deans, secretaries and assistants galore
So they just have to charge ever more and more
Greedy professors demand always increasing pay
Lest, like a herd of angry jackasses they will bray
But students may decide it isn’t worth the cost
And then to the colleges, everything will be lost
We will then see a bunch of unemployed slobs
For without enough students they will have no jobs