Best Socials Poems
There is a house on the cliff’s edge,
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline
At night, the tide lifts high against a foggy moon
In the morning, gloomy clouds settle with the sea
At times, not even the birds are seen or heard
The house is left to nature’s caress
Home-crafted seashell chimes sway and sing with the wind
Crushed sand dollars lie together on the back porch
The shells were once whole, collected by the former owners
Long gone are they now, smiling with the moon
The owners are the very sound of the ocean spray,
Striking the rocks, announcing the cool dawn of day
They are not the dark, empty rooms,
The rooms that nobody thinks of as they go about their lives
The quiet owners are long gone—thought of only by one
A stillborn legacy about as tiresome as the sun,
When the clouds crisp out its beams . . .
A seawater puddle is in the middle of the dining room
Nobody knows it sits there, sinking in the floorboards
It used to be a far larger puddle after a storm,
Stealthily leaking into the house
But now it is small—so small—and the boards are moist,
Moist with its only companion amongst the instilled silence
Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
They were not much for socials and gatherings
They always lived their quiet, happy lives
Without a care of the outside world,
Far from anybody’s thought
Miles from the nearest home
Where the next generation comfortably lives
He never finished fixing that leak . . .
Sometimes the puddle gets bigger after other storms
And when it does, there is almost life there again
You can see the chandelier reflected on the unperturbed water
As a crystal dangles and falls from on high
The dark silence following the drop is as deep as thought . . .
Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
There is merely a house on the cliff’s edge
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline
-March 21, 2013-
Who are the ugly people?
I cannot really see
Your nose is a tad wonky
But seems perfectly shaped to me
Who are the ugly people?
Perhaps the way you stroll
Is not quite catwalk ready
But you have ambulatory soul
Who are the ugly people?
Your hair it whisps and flies
And yet I see the beauty
Hidden there behind your eyes
Who are the ugly people?
If you stutter when you talk
I just hear words of kindness
Though the world may call you dork
Who are the ugly people?
Not the poets or the painters
It's the socials and the media
Determined they should taint us
Who are the ugly people?
Not the ones who try their best
But the judgement laden critics
Or the ones who just detest
Who are the ugly people?
Those who preen, pout or pretend?
For ugly is a choice we make
From inside, in the end
14th October 2023
To live a talented retiremant,
i dreamed of a normal retirement,
Meeting classmates again coincidently
Getting together for a cup of tea or coffee,,
To be with the church,
When I retired that all began,
A storytale retirement,
I did participate and did things,
I have never done before,
I wrote two books, "Living with God",
The next good book"The Sounds of Christmas",
My poems were well-liked by the seniors at the residence,
I gave them as christmas presents one year
Blessing my relatives and friends,
I was featured at the Open House as a guest poet.
They praised my accomplishments,
We had a lovely reunion with my relatives,
The sound of music came honestly,
I taught myself as a teacher to play many songs,
A friend came up to me and said,
That they would like me to play for the birthdays,
I played the piano for the birthdays and socials,
Previously I had sung with the choir,
I participated in bazaars,
A well-respected poet and pianist,
I said to myself, perhaps I have practiced all my life ,
Just to be featured today as a senior today,
I met a future mayor of our city and a bishop of our church,
I had friends that were ministers and lunched,
I thank God for the many accomplishments and blessings,
We have a beautiful conservation area nearby,
Many hikes and lovely walks guested with relatives and friends,
A retirement that is blessed by the Lord,
To have been blessed to share my retirement with my father and relatives,
To have discovered my favorite miracle singer,
These are the many blessings of God and I am truly thankful.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz
We celebrate her majesty Queen Elizabeth's reign,
Majestically guiding us with excellence.
This year is diamond jubilee,
So fancy and free.
Persons everywhere cheering,
They show they care.
Lunches and socials galore,
Garden parties to adore.
Her model kingdom,
Respected by all.
Viewed on the television,
Received as an excellent passage in history.
Music and song,
Poetry and story.
Beautiful ways to cherish the day,
Always our favorite royals.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Help Me, Help You, Help Them, Help Us, Help Men, Help Women, Help Rich, Help Poor, Help Blacks, Help Whites, Help Asians, Help Latins, Help Europeans, Help Africans, Help Animals, Help Plants, Help Earth, Help Parents, Help Children, Help Young, Help Old, Help Disabled, Help Abused, Help Psychopaths, Help Criminals, Help Gays, Help Straights, Help Celebrities, Help Nations, Help Leaders, Help Followers, Help Government, Help Economies, Help Socials, Help Anti-Socials, Help Weird,
Help Normal, Help us all!
We all need help, so help one another.
SAMIRA
Samira,
The beauty of 3 arts
General with elegance,
Enigma without resemblance
You should have called
Before you left this earth,
Cousin to Maryam, owner of
My heart.
Ha Samira believer of Mosha
I loved your dressings during
Socials,
I recollect the afternoon you
Said I should never be sober,
I wish I saw death hanging on
Your shoulders,
Tell me why tears shouldn't be
My roster?
Too early call, no reason to
Rejoice
I now fear this air
I don't know when she will stop
Been my friend,
Keep me among the dead
Everyone has a place of rest.
No ceremony for the dead.
Rest Samira Jibril.
habib akewusola
Now I'm not about to play DEVIL'S advocate I hasten to say,
But chances are you'll hear a DEVILISH expression most every day
The term "The Angel You Say" would better soothe my sensitive ear,
But even with utmost care, my ears can't screen everything they hear!
In attending the church socials, the utmost pleasure I find,
But I stand in fear and trembling with the good Lord in mind,
When I sneak a hunk of delectable DEVIL'S food cake,
Or eat too many DEVILLED eggs 'til my stomach doth ache!
As a youth I was a DEVILKIN as I traveled along the way.
My DEVIL-may-care DEVILMENT was exhibited most every day.
A caning with a DEVILWOOD twig ususally kept me humble,'
But occasionally into the DEVIL'S devious ways I would stumble!
In my youth fiery-eyed preachers scared the DEVIL out of me,
Ranting about eternal damnation vis-a-vis heavenly jubilee.
"The DEVIL made me do it" is really very suspect,
And is probably no excuse to qualify for Saint Peter's elect!
"Idle hands are the DEVIL'S workshop" so I have heard.
I suppose if we heeded that old saw, trouble could be deterred.
And if we curbed our dare-DEVIL race down life's treacherous road,
We'd have a smoother ride to that eternal and Heavenly Abode!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 6 in Constance's "Bedevil" Contest - October 2010
Happy May Day, all you PS boys and girls...EVOE!
Squeeze a cherry and let it sit,
And don't forget to take out the pit.
Let it ferment,
At least a day as a rule,
To give it some zing
And a kick like a mule.
Do the same with the blackberry,
There on the vine,
Then fill full the flagons
With festival wine.
From cherry to berry
We'll ramble along,
Our cups full of hooch,
Our young hearts full of song.
Inside the tubs
The fruit still ferments.
Those juices have uses
To enhance our intents
To revel with Bacchus,
The god of the vine.
With each quaff of the vino
We erupt into rhyme.
Be it barley and hops,
Or cherry or berry,
Let flow freely the brew
Whilst we drink and make merry.
Tomorrow's regret
Is tonight's joyful song,
The flesh may be weak, boys,
But the spirits are strong.
Author's note: I'm just doing a bit of reminiscing with this one, dear readers, remembering all those Sunday afternoon "beer busts" and "ice cream socials" that added so much flavor to my university experience. Also suggested by a story on the local news some time ago about the theft of a great number of cherries off trees in a private backyard here. No evidence to suggest if they were destined for pies or, perhaps, spirits like Kirsch or Maraschino. A Wikipedia moment for those who don't know: Bacchus is the Greco-Roman (Dionysus to the Greeks) deity of the grape harvest, winemaking, and wine, and of ritual madness and ecstasy. He was a real party animal.
Summer time was filled with laughter and fun
Childhood remembered playing in the sun
Swimming holes and watermelon served ice cold
You can’t go home again, so I have been told
But home, I go,when my mind drifts back
To ice cream socials, rodeos, supper in a sack
Hay meadows kissed by the morning dew
Sitting on the porch on an old church pew
The smell of the rain and the grass when you mow
Memories take me there anytime I want to go
Cotton patch battles with that old Johnson grass
Learning how to cook, the burning of the trash
Toting water buckets , feeding those old dogs
Making a log cabin simply outlined by logs
Nehi grape soda's purple circles on your lip
Visiting relatives, always ready for the trip
Learning to ride a bike and skinning your knee
Picking juicy peaches from that old peach tree
Snow cones, ice cream, a RC and a moon pie
Memories like this can bring a tear to your eye
A tear of joy for all things simple and sweet
Waving at your neighbors, whenever you meet
Listening to the radio and sleeping outside
Playing hide ‘n seek, knowing just where to hide
Frog legs, crawfish, and running a trot line
A better kind of life you will never find
Just a poor white girl living in the sticks
Not a bit ashamed that we were called hicks
This is the life I enjoyed as a kid
You say you can’t go back, well, I just did
I am a dreamer tell you interpretation
I am single looking for my broken ribs
I am lonely need a company
I am skinny feed some milk
I am a poet eat my writes
I am a student teach me studies
I am an introvert help my socials
I am a preacher see my congregation
I am a teacher show the classroom
I am a son I have a father
I am an amateur swimmer I need a swim pool
I am an author read my autobiography
I am Holy Spirit filled I speak in tongues
I am a Bible scholar ask memory verses
I am born again waiting for trumpet call
I am a Christian I believe in Jesus Christ
I am a prayer warrior give me your prayers
I am a Shepherd with forty eight sheep
I am God's messenger send me to God
I am a clay baked in the hands of the Potter
I am a heavenly spirit being am up with Jesus
I am a basket baller I need a Court
I am a leader see my followers
I am a barber give a clipper
I am a flutists play you a lovely melody
I AM: A LIST BIO CHALLENGE.
3RD PLACE
Andrea Dietrich
5/11/2020
Barn dancing, taffy pulling, bobing for apples
Enters the girl with the red cotton hose
Riding in a wagon pulled by horse of gray dappled
Prettiest girl, girl of his dreams, her smile was ample
Asking her for a dance he's so glad he chose
Barn dancing, taffy pulling, bobing for apples
So much fun those community socials one can't grapple
At the notion, meeting new people where love can grow
Riding in wagon pulled by horse of gray dappled
Fun in the hay all the way as they rode as a couple
Now more fun inside the barn my she has cutest nose
Barn dancing, taffy pulling, bobing for apples
Bobing for apples showing her how to grapple
All the way down, show her how it goes
Riding in wagon pulled by horse gray dappled
So much fun with the girl in red cotton hose
Some day after love with her grows their children goes
Barn dancing, taffy pulling, bobing for apples
Riding in the wagon pulled by a horse gray dappled
oh, when your family life depends on disability checks coming in the mail,
food stamps to eat a good meal, it sucks, because it's the same routine,
over and over, month after month, nothing to get by, oh, yea we have
clothes on our backs to keep us warm during harsh cold days,
but if respect got lost it'll immedialty turn to grey, in this lonely society
called home base, where narks get bad impressions from everyone,
socials get jacked were the identity can't be identified, so they'll spy,
try to get the truth from the hood, where no one's fellings are ever understood,
we're all under the rug, which must mean we're all considered hoodlums doing dumb,
but we're the under-rated group loosing control, as a whole we make up a big majority
of enterprise to bring down this lonley society, to swing on a seat with strings, to run, have fun, come out our houses and speak about principles of the world,
which would be to defend the defensless on this planet from creul intentions including humanity why oh, why you lonely society did you bring me into a way of life, which hardly anyone sees insights
While I deleted all my socials,
why have I just installed one to look what her favorites are?
I swear I should have just leave it and let it stay in deleted.
I am not meant to use such things,
I always won't stop what other people might think.
Because when I saw that he is following her,
both my cheeks got warm and my heart beating fast.
Even though she does not follow him back
why can I not find in myself what I like and put them into favorites,
but wait for hers?
I do not know what this feeling is,
you know my heart isn't stopping and my cheeks still feel heavy.
I just hope my brain does not feel shaky how it does everyday.
Seeing the amount of na*ed girls he follows,
I think I knew already before.
But why do I not find it funny anymore?
I just did not find it as bad.
I did not really thought much about it and immedietly forgot it
It aligns with his past behavior very well.
With the behavior he has now too I guess.
We just do not talk anymore so I do not know.
Not any feeling,
just something bad lingering you know?
There are so many things in life that give me so much pleasure,
Family, friends and fishing all of which I treasure.
But having my ice cream fix, ah, I'm the happiest guy on earth.
Never mind that such ecstasy adds to my ever-expanding girth!
My spouse closely monitors the types of foods that I consume,
Concerned that cholesterol will bring about my early doom!
So surreptitiously I sneak about for my ice cream ration,
Fearful of getting caught and causing untold consternation!
I fondly recall as a lad the ice cream socials that we had,
When friends and neighbors got together with my Mom and Dad.
Bringing their favorite ice creams to mix in hand-cranked freezers.
Ah! Such delectable concoctions prepared by those old geezers!
A hot fudge sundae is a treat that I really savor,
Or a thick shake made with real ice cream of any flavor,
And every chance that I get I sneak a luscious banana split.
Am I concerned about those calories? Not one little whit!
Some folks relish sherbet, but I think that is sissy stuff.
They can have my share of that, but of ice cream I can't get enough!
When I cease to function you can etch upon my stone this theme:
"Nothing could make his eyes gleam like a bowl of ice cream!"
Valentine's Day is a day where you care,
Traditionally you exchange valentines with relatives and friends.
Boyfriend and girlfriend send another flowers and chocolates.
Their are socials to honor St. Valentine.
Valentine's Day, a day where relatives and friends ,
Share care and friendship.
They have celebrations in honor of St. Valentine,
Performers could guest.
Writing cards to show their affections,
Sent to relatives and friends.
A day where you look back and think about friendships and romances,
A miraculous wedding could have guested.
Miracles like your children and grandchildren,
A day where we celebrate God's love and friendship.
Valentine's Day should be all year
The planet is God's favorite Valentine.
Royalty celebrates Valentine's Day.
King and Queen, prince and princess.
Thankful to God for the many blessings,
Happiness and thankfulness everywhere.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz