Best Smartly Poems
The Rooster
He strutted ‘cross the barnyard tall and proud,
away from all the bustle of the crowd;
the other roosters in the yard felt cowed,
to him they meekly stepped aside and bowed.
Rhode Island Red to others he was known;
the yard’s top bird, to all he wanted shown.
One day a pullet walking on her own
approached red rooster standing all alone.
“Dear sir you’re quite the standout in this room
all smartly clad and dressed in bright red plume
and standing by yourself may I assume
you’re unattached and lonely, I presume.”
Replied the rooster, “Dear cannot you see,
that others always step aside for me,
and I’m the one, I think you would agree
that any hen I wanted, it would be.”
“Oh, really,” she replied with snarky grin,
“then why I ask your party seems quite thin,
and I’m the only caller who’s within;
perhaps it’s time that you and I begin.”
“My dear young hen you’re simply not my type;
you’re far too ordinary is my gripe,
and I prefer a hen who’s much more ripe
for I must always live up to my hype.”
“I see you standing proudly in your frock,
and I can see you’ve been around the block;
you’re nothing but an old conceited cock,
and you deserve a nagging hen to rock.”
June 27, 2019
I am a super duper Gerber Baby
all I love to do is wee- wee
winning all the attention of my mommy
so that all day long, she’ll stay beside me
I love to loudly fart and burp
after taking my Gerber Baby Foods prepared by dad
all my tiny fingers in my mouth as I give them a crunchy baby’s laugh
they both run to give me their sweetest kisses and hugs
Oh, how I love to wear my soft baby’s diaper
I walk around my crib producing sounds, “ mmma pppa brrrr brrrrrr”
please bathe me in my lovely little bath tub or wash
the smudges of my “ poop” now I feel them on my ass
How I love to be an adorable baby
no problem yet nor worry
all I have to do is drink milk and sleep the whole night or day
cuddled in the loving arms of my mommy and daddy
In my cozy crib are colorful toys
feeling like sitting over the rainbow with so much joy
my picture books are scattered all around
I pretend to read them smartly as I look at the picture of a clown
Jan. 27, 2012
First Place
Contest: Gerber Baby (poem contest)
Judged: 2/1/2013
Sponsor: Greatest Poet, Linda/PD
First Place
Contest: #1 Poem Only
Judged: 17/13/13
Sponsor: My dearest Poet sis, Linda
Creamy hot chocolate
bathes windowpanes
Two Clydesdales trot smartly
down cobblestone lanes
Through the trees, moon rises
pools of light, reflection's prayer
Rest now, reminders
~ of an era unscared
Cattle Drive
Roll over a bit in me swag
Get some bones clear of the ground
Dew is on us swag cover is wet
Dingo is howling around
The cattle are camped in the corner
The frogs are croaking, smile creeps
Old horse has the nose bag on
Oats n the chaff for his keep
Fox has his nose in the camp oven
Cattle dog snarls n he freaks
Fox has blurted and gone now
Cattle dog goes back to sleep
At daylight we are catching the horses
Hobbles come off as they squeak
Saddle and mount a grumpy horse
be unloaded, you’re bloody weak :)
Old horse drops his head again smartly
Pigroots around the flat
Stay with him mate it’s only
oats causing springing like that.
Cattle move on down the Stockroute
15 mile a day cross water n creeks
40 mile to the railhead Darby
The Shielas are waiting so sweet.
Don Johnson
Hey Babe
I know the feeling Im a whiz at computers been using since 1990 .
My little laptop has inbuilt webcam i record from.
I was using a usb type video camera ...which worked well.
Do make an effort to put you on you tube ...
there is lots of crappity crap there so you will be welcomed there ..
i have 190 poems n talking too...just good fun its what i do...love
Don
While attending a social do
You meet and greet others
It’s more a social norm
Than any ‘real’ connect
As you attend to calls
Or get yourself updated with ‘Updates’
Or simply fiddle with your phone
And mind you
You are not alone
Almost everyone is doing the same
Some listless bites of conversation
While chomping on the fare
And it’s time to take leave
But ironically
The same social do
Which you had so perfunctorily attended
Finds the pride of place
On social sites
And horror of horrors
You too find yourself
Engaged in mindless chatter
With the very same crowd
You didn’t much involve yourself with
Just a couple of hours before
In that crowded venue
The story is the same
Whether you are with friends, family or neighbours
The present moments are sacrificed
With ‘smart’ phones smartly severing you
From your surroundings
Ironically when face to face
No one has much to say
But there’s frenzied socialization
Every day
In the ‘virtual’ world
Leading to tch, tch
A 24/7 disconnect in the ‘real’ world.
Washed and smartly dressed in school uniform
Judy tucks into her healthy breakfast
while watching cartoons on television.
Her mother smiles. Outside the sun shines bright.
Rami wakes to sounds of jets overhead.
He pulls his worn blanket tight to his chest
afraid to look outside and see the dead.
His nation torn and by tyrants oppressed.
A friend’s birthday party awaits Judy.
With present in hand she knocks at the door;
already, music fills the evening air.
She’s greeted by hugs and happy faces.
Wails of crying mothers fill sooty air.
Where did Rami’s go? She’s been gone so long.
Each day he offers for her a prayer,
knowing well she would want him to stay strong.
Excited, she tugs at her father’s hand
as she watches the colored lights around
the fair grounds. Nibbling at her candyfloss,
she makes a mental note of the fun rides.
Will there be food today, food he can share?
It’s his duty to care for another.
He crawls through litter, finds the wee one there,
but cold is the body of his brother.
Today it was a public holiday
and Judy’s parents took her to the beach.
A lovely day has now come to an end.
Judy’s mother gives her a goodnight kiss.
With family gone, Rami takes up arms.
They’re readily available to all.
It matters not to him which side he harms;
in battle Rami is willing to fall.
Judy falls asleep in her cozy bed
as her mum softly sings a lullaby.
A fleeting smile lights up her peaceful face.
She dreams of life’s delights, cuddles and love.
To a staccato rhythm bullets fire
as Rami dashes from the ragged tent.
Of Rami’s fate nobody will inquire;
for war’s children, none are left to lament.
Life is a dangerous struggle
Full of inconsistencies, challenges and pains
Life is not fair even to the fair skinned
The dark skinned are not faring better either
In everyone's backyard a little rain must drop
Whatever be your lot, set your goals and go for it.
In life, even the rich also cry
The poor in pains and agonies cries ceaselessly
The middle class have no problems 'cause they never existed
The orphans on the street go bare footed and hungry
Everyone is plagued by this turbulent journey called life
Whatever be your lot, set your goals and go for it.
Life is an endless and unpleasant adventure
Ending in one phase and continues in another phase
Beggers beg and no one gives to them
Widows cry and no one hears their voice
Everyone is caught up in this crazy web called life
Whatever be your lot, set your goals and go for it
In life, the religious are not the righteous
The righteous looks rough and rugged
Unnoticed because they have no class
For long we have been in this turmoil called life
And it has promised to continue unabated, no end at sight
Whatever happens, set your goals and go for it
The smart acts smartly by running away
They cross the sea, the Mediterranean sea
Unfortunately, you can't run away from life
Run away from it here and you will meet it there
Even though we're here, I know we'll soon be there
Only if we can set our goals and go for it
Life is everywhere, has no friends, has no foes
Life rewards, reproved and reprimands
Everyone is lotted opportunities in life
And it's their responsibility to take them
The faithful pray while the unfaithful prey
Whatever you do, set your goals and go for it
Life has no end, life has no beginning
Life is an omen, the omen never lies
Life keeps everyone busy on their own lane
Though some lanes are fast, some are slow
But ultimately every vehicle gets to its destination
Only if we can just set our goals and go for it
Life cares for no one, Life is hostile
Life is an excruciating and toilsome lot
Imperfect Life preaches perfection
Unfortunately, no one needs perfection
We're all trapped in this vicious cycle called Life
Whatever be your lot, set your goals and go for it
Sitting on a park bench
and taking in the sights,
she's always got an eye out
for the children, running
back and forth till they are wired,
then pestering their parents -
"Come on, Mom, we're not tired!"
They cluster all around her,
they call her 'Auntie Pearl,'
to listen to her stories of
when she was just a girl;
tales of pinafores and mittens,
lovely hats for Sunday best,
patent leather shoes and stockings,
turning out so smartly dressed!
There were picnics and fun times
out by the river when they'd walk
two miles or more learning their rhymes.
Riding in a carriage pulled by
horses up and down the street,
calling at a neighbour's house -
there'd always be a treat!
Taking presents to the homeless
the day after Christmas Day,
helping those who didn't have much
food to eat, or games to play.
She told them, "Listen to your folks,
try to grow up big and strong,
help others when you have the chance,
your lives will be full and long!"
One Saturday she didn't come to take
her usual seat. The kids all clamoured:
"Where's Aunt Pearl?" she made their day
complete. Moms said: "She's telling stories
to the angels now, it's true. She loves you all,
remember, she is watching over you."
Sitting on a park bench
and taking in the view,
she's always got an eye out
for the children, me and you,
pestering our parents
with a grumble or a pout.
We cluster all around her,
we call her 'Auntie Pearl,'
to listen to her stories of
when she was just a girl;
tales of pinafores and mittens,
lovely hats for Sunday best,
patent leather shoes and stockings,
turning out so smartly dressed!
There were picnics and fun times
down by the river when they'd walk
two miles or more learning their rhymes.
Riding in a carriage pulled by
horses up and down the street,
calling at a neighbour's house -
there'd always be a treat!
Taking presents to the homeless
the day after Christmas Day,
helping those who didn't have much
food to eat, or games to play.
She told us, "Listen to your folks
and grow up big and strong,
help others when you have the chance,
and greet them with a song."
One Saturday she didn't come to take her usual seat.
We kids all clamoured:"Where's Aunt Pearl?"
she made our day complete. Moms said:
"She's telling stories to the angels now, it's true.
She loves you all and she is watching over you."
“hope floats from purple petals to ebony buds”
- Silent One
In darkness, I dreamt in color,
with eyelids fluttering like butterflies.
I’d thought I’d see sunlight,
before I fell into a trance, but hope
tickled the air and the sandman was there,
not to torture but to divine adventure.
“Purple petals and ebony buds,” like pollen
sticks to the fluttering wings of butterflies.
In cruising altitude, felicity is decked out.
The garden site’s lit up with fairy lights.
Trellis rose blooms, suave in velvet,
like a smartly dressed groom in a new tuxedo.
I float, in my restful state, as a bright butterfly,
better than ever, testing my titillated wings.
In darkness, I dreamt in color.
In sunlight, I awaken to the tease
of a truant dream, a rose plucked
and tenderly tickles my cheek and neck;
silent is the touch of a purple leafwing.
He is a failure, my cousin Tee said.
How so?
He had two businesses, neither of them made it.
Yes, he is a loser, Cousin Dexter chimed in.
What were they?
A bakery, and a laundry mat.
So he can bake and do laundry! I said smartly. Sounds like a good catch.
They both laughed.
What does he do now? They did not know, so I found out.
He works at a Wal-mart, I told them. He is the manager.
So I asked them, “instead of a failure, would it be possible that he successfully
Eliminated two careers for one that is working for him now?”
My cousins looked at me.
You are odd, Dexter said. Tee nodded.
I smiled, proud to be odd.
And so it is
And so it was
And so shall always be
This group of smartly sounding words
Leaves little hope for you or me
Can what will be, be
If what was, wasn’t
Because what is, isn’t
If the truth becomes the lie
And the lie follows suit
Would that make seeking either
A trivial pursuit
These questions seek no answer
They sit idle in a fog
Amused by the lunacy
The tail chasing the dog
What is Man
Written: by Miracle Man
12-15-2019
Man’s life is more than the sum of his years,
From birth he steps smartly toward judgments gate.
With calloused hands, and eyes dripping tears,
He fulfills his purpose trusting life was au fait.
He spoke of faith. I told him I had none. He laughed. I scowled, muttering an obscenity. He continued. Telling me that we all had faith, that I had faith. He asked me if I had a brain. I told him I did. He asked if I had ever seen it. I said I hadn’t. He chuckled. I scowled loudly. “So you believe you have a brain though you have never seen it.” ”Do you use it?” He asked. I smartly replied: “every day”. “And you trust this brain to be there when you need it?” he asked. “Of course I do” I shouted, “I’m not stupid.”
Then it happened. He sprung his trap, asking: ”So you believe in the presence of something you cannot see, trust that when you need help it will be there, rely on it to assist you in making decisions.” Some would call that “faith”.
“When you wait at the bus stop for the bus do you believe that the bus will come?” He asked.
“Of Course”, I replied, “I’d be a fool to wait if I didn’t think the bus would come.”
I had no faith
Save the faith I didn’t have
In having faith
"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas time.”
– Laura Ingalls Wilder (1867-1957), American writer (of the Little House series of books), teacher, journalist, wife, mother, and native of Pepin, Wisconsin, USA
The holidays arrive with fall’s last call,
As frost’s glazed fingers tuck in frozen earth.
Thanksgiving gathers kinsfolk one and all,
With memories and fun beyond mere worth.
The calendar soon finds December late,
With Christmas joy and greetings all at hand.
Details to tend to prior to that date,
But season’s meaning – do we understand?
A New Year may refresh our souls and roles,
With resolutions we all hope to keep.
By weighing more than just our wants and goals,
Improved relationships we’ll sow and reap.
By smartly skipping season’s snares of strife,
Our holidays give happiness for life.