Best Sure Fire Poems
Dark Spells
As a clock running in black circles down
Distant stars lighting reddish fairy gowns,
Earthen pastures in darkness all aglow,
Awaiting dawn's eager cock to thrice crow.
Two wagging tails on huge fantastic birds
flying with dust stirring African herds,
For life in wailing pain must thus this bring,
curses spun from magical, hellish ring.
Night-winds ill blowing with green, nasty stench
coming calamity, sure-fire cinch,
Time and Fate conspire with evil blood-lusts
removing hope and adding deep the rusts.
Dragon pair emerging to life consume.
Old hag weaving spells on wicked loom.
Robert J. Lindley, 12-31-2016
My shaking hand ~ Inside my pants pocket
Warmed it be ~ When I pulled out my locket
Zuzu's baby picture ~ My dear treasured keep
Always with me ~ By my bed when I sleep
Her face so meek ~ So small and so squib
As she sleeps silent ~ Alone in her crib
I thought that I lost her ~ When she fell ill
Pneumonia's burden ~ A baby's...sure fire kill
Her temperature high ~ One hundred five
She should have passed ~ Somehow, she's alive
An haloed angel ~ Came to me that night
He answered my prayers ~ Gave Zuzu...new light
Ever since then, I've prayed ~ Along with my wife
Clarence, thank you ~ It's a wonderful life
12-13-2018
Movie Magic Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Gregory R. Barden
It's a wonderful life- George Bailey
Ordinary dolls for me
weren’t too exciting.
Dolls I wanted had to be
sure-fire delighting!
Dolls like Chatty Cathy or
ones with tapes to play. . .
Speak, and a devise would store
what your doll would say.
These dear Santa never brought
as a gift for me.
Barbie, though, and trolls I got
underneath my tree.
Tiny Thumbelina was
one doll that I raved
to my mom about because
she’s the doll I craved!
Crank her knob, she’d move her head
sweetly to and fro
like a real child on my bed.
How I loved her so!
Inspired by Linda-Marie Bariana's
Contest: "Toyland"
Greed is a gambler...dropping the dice...high anxiety rambler
Roller coaster ride...eyes and ears set to extreme
Back and forth up and down...black, blue, and blurred in a blink in the breeze
Jokers always looking for that big jackpot...red lights roar and the sirens scream
Endlessly searching for that sure fire scheme
Stain glass sinner on a winning week
Greed is a gangster...pulling big paper and pushing bad bullets
Hair trigger henchman getting bigger and badder
Rob to get richer...gruesome giant starts to grow
Grabbing and getting...never giving back what he stole
Teardrops on tombstones...still ruthlessly he rolls
Greed is a gold digger...Pearl necklace on a pig
Smooth and sexy swine
Drunk on diamonds and dollars...demoness dressed so divine
Keep taking until it's all took
Corrupt with the coochie...that cutie's a crook
Sweat stains on the silver spoon
Her shadows turn to slaves
Prostitute her pride but she's still getting paid
Greed runs out of gas and leaves it's victims burned and bashed
Lies get told like whips and lashes leaving you cashed out cold just like a hot check
Greed always gets another to do its dark bidding
so it can live longer and keep on sinning
Greed says the grass is always greener on the other side of the hole
Greedy death is what you get when your master is more
Those who enforce and make our laws
Must be of sound body and mind, that is not impaired
To administer The Law, justly and fairness to all
Protect the honest, not mingle with outlaws
We have the best legal system in the world, does not need to be repaired
But only as good as the ones that carry the ball
Like those in the medial field, they take an oath
Promise to care for all, not just those they choose
As we are a great land, we should have the best
As for the bad ones, we need to cut out that growth
If we do not, in the end we will loose
A very simple and cost effective cure, is a drug test
To get and hold a job, we all have to take one
So why should they be any different?
Where I have been, if you did not take one, you were fired
If one's mind is altered, should he or she carry a gun?
This is the message that needs to be sent
If they do not take one, they are not hired
So what is done to the little man should be done to the big man
They maybe the law, but no one is above the law
If any should fight this, the first sign of failure
And a sure fire way to protect every American
In every state, drug test those in law
Then we can sleep better every night, that is for sure
Forget your Greek grammar,
And your algebra, top set,
Brush aside history, economics even if your grades are a sure bet,
And I'll tell you why,
For knowledge money cannot buy,
And that's cake, yes cake.
Whether it's cheese, chocolate or creamy and layered,
You tell me what's the sure fire preference?
Another jammy finger licking wedge, or an obscure civil war reference?
Sorry! Calm down, you just don't seem to be on the same recipe page,
Yes ok, Marx, Aristotle and even Einstein, wise, sage touching the sky,
Yeah right, when did any of them knock up a half decent mince pie?
Ok,ok but you say it's not the point but it is a fact,
And yes I personally take it to heart,
I'm not going to trust anybody who can't cook a blinding treacle tart.
Lets face it, it's all about priorities, and degrees centigrade or fahrenheit,
No, seriously when you're down with nobody to offer advice,
Can't you see there's solace in the next sticky slice.
It's cake, that's the answer, not to your questions, I'll grant you,
But to your cravings, frustrations and failings,
So who cares about syntax and what rhymes with silver?
That Socrates was right and who's Pitt the Elder?
No, here it's time to cut to the chase, it's now, make or break,
We must all rise up and demand more cake!
Once there was a dame called Pella”the Ma’am”
Courtesy her strategy to get things done. Great dame!
Ma’am today you are so cute!
Ma’am you got a date with bond right!
Bloody this is a sure fire strategy for dames!
Whorls of smoke mock the void of the heavens; in a wiggling ascent
With lusting waists of a samba decent.
Turmoil combs the fragile mane of the soil
The scalp is torn and leathery fingers of dust rest against the helm.
The stench of burning tires staggers on its knocked feet.
Embers are peach, ashes are red; a jihad is ablaze.
While ceasefire less sure-fire, birthdays wis deathdays;
Missiles are fireflies, explosions are lullabies and cops are corpses.
Life lays under the belly of the drone
And Islam feels a bending moment about the fulcrum of redefinition.
Fathers rot in the mild stomach of war;
Mothers drought in barren maroon eyes;
The succulent chaste vines of daughters squashed for concubines;
Cheerful flames of innocence choke in lanterns of caliphates,
Quills swim in ink, wrists are steady and boys are authors of death.
A realm lit with dead air, no heirs
Human rights lay in mass graves
While death and her cousins dance in a masquerade.
Soils are rich with the blood they sip
Walls bleed on in reds of graffiti.
White phosphorus rains, post traumatic stress reigns the rainbows.
Wings are spread and the tail is cocky,
Tides are breathing and the black flag wafts on,
With flickers of pride darting off its white scribblings.
But the drone cuddles its belly, licks its fingers,
The drone burps as the flag wafts on.
For the Sandy Hook Newtown
children and their mentors
Rondelet: Rat-a-tat-'tat
Rat-a-tat-'tat
Rattle staccato riddle tumble
Rat-a-tat-'tat
Toppled children scatter rat-tat
Innocent voices all tremble
Rifled trillions sure-fire treble
Rat-a-tat-'tat
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2012
Well some they say though straight or gay
Get fun from innuendo
While others wait ‘til dark
To get their kicks outside your window
Some do the deed without a sound
Some labour in the dark
While others roars would wake the dead
Some sing out like a lark
Variety’s the spice of life
And while there’s a great selection
We’ve all been screwed from time to time
At every new election
There’s watersports and bondage
There’s even golden showers
Beware though not to mix the two
Or you’ll stay wrapped up for hours
Some wear a mask with eye-holes
Or some dangerous protrusion
Some sport a tail or riding crop
While lost in their delusion
Some women favour veggies
To chippies sparks or plumbers
They relish every celery stick
Or juicy green cucumbers
There’s tales that tell of fishermen
Quite partial to a skate
Though fond of fish I always was
I prefer mine on a plate
Some wrap up like an onion
For fear their skin is showing
While some rush in all fingers and thumbs
With boobs and buttocks glowing
There are those without a conscience
Who swear they’re not the owner
Oh deary me it had to be
Someone elses *****
Though some would up and go all night
Some finish in a minute
While others just the thought alone
Would push them past their limit
While girls dress up as men
And Lads like Cinderella
It takes a little work sometime
To tell female from fella
Uniforms are common place
Considered rather arty
A sturdy pair of coppers cuffs
Are the rave at swingers parties
There’s beads and balls and bangles
They may become a habit
And a whirling whirring weapon
They call the Rampant Rabbit
When picking out a present
For your partners Xmas box
Have Duracell a plenty
In her little Xmas socks
So while sex it has its ups and downs
Even Daniel would agree
It’s a sure fire cure for unwanted frowns
And it beats a cup of Tea
Lily,
Her beauty surpasses the moon,
The fragrance of her voice charms the world
And draw sorrows away from mankind
She is a woman!
Lily,
Her smile embalms the sorrowful world
And soothes the weeping nations
Making them smile, and smile again
She is a woman!
Lily,
The glare from her eyes make heavens blush
And clouds to no longer hold their sorrows
Their tears fall and wet the earth
Because she is a woman!
Lily,
Who’se holds her sure-fire conviction,
That whips me into convulsion
And I mislay my age-old senses
Because she is a woman!
Lily,
Because she is a woman, I make a man
Because she is a woman, I am alive
Because she is a woman, I smile
Because she is the ideal woman!
How come many mothers forgot that breastmilk is STILL,
And ALWAYS will be BEST, for babies suckling lips???
What’s next then?
The twinkling of a star turning into cliché,
Repeated only in nursery rhymes?
Memories of long walks drowned by the ever turning,
Wheel s of cold, metallic and unfeeling cars?
The Lover’s Moon losing its magic,
Against all of electronic medias?
Bill’s words fading to echoes of classroom walls vandalized,
By students apathetic of Romeo and Juliet’s tragic lives?
The aroma of home cooked meals forever gone from,
Refurbished houses whose kitchen’s gravitas are nuke boxes (and limp pastas)?
Damp “Homes” generally viewed by all as dumping grounds
For graying (former) loved ones seen as burdens?
Many more young lasses cramming fingers against throats,
In pursuit of vanity and skeletal perception of beauty?
Stock market denizens hurling their bodies against speeding trains?
Green and be-heroed paper bills overrated,
Against all other of life’s simple joys?
How many still remembers…
That plants cure and most meds packaged in fancy boxes,
Are miracles drawn by roots from the humble earth?
That the most sure fire way of treating boo boos,
Is TLC to the umpteenth level?
That even though a day’s good job brings satisfaction,
It can never compare to a loved ones approbation?
That one can never get enough of kids’ hugs and kisses?
Indeed…
It will really be a future oh so bleak,
When humanity’s mind- to simple but powerful truths,
Becomes weak…
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When mankind forgets the true value of NATURE and NURTURE, we will surely forget to
define our humanity! There's tons more of examples why and how this is happening. If you
can add up, I'll put them up there! Thanks!
Oh death,
You are ugly!
Get away from me!
Each time you laugh
Your guttural laugh,
Like a Python,
I know you have devoured
Another poor soul
I know because evil forest
Lives next door
Every witching hour,
I observe your lifeless victims
From my tiny window,
Where I plead my own case
As they ferret one unfortunate soul case after another
To the church yard
No one knows who is next
Or what hour you will cold-cock
Even the most vicious witch,
Witch doctors are impotent
When you register for them
Your confederate earth and earth worm
Know not to pique you
For fear of famishing
The day a coffin maker
Swears at you,
He goes home without a bounty
Doctors who snooze with cadavers
Shudder ceaselessly when you sneeze
A morgue attendant
Would rather have his eyes plucked out
Than peep through the window of a morgue;
For angst of what lays in wait...
What the peeper has spied
The maw cannot orate
An obdurate hover,
Knows not to stalk
A soul case into it's crypt
For death angst
I have hailed you Ozoemena
And christened my folks Onwubiko
That has not pacified you
You have only lent a deaf ear
To my feverish entreaties
Tonight,
I shall restrain all sacrifices to you
And your allies
I have heard of a sure-fire Ace
Who once bequeathed you
An undying pin-fall
Before you skedaddled from Hades
And commenced afflicting everyone
The poor and rich
Are at your mercy
My folks and I
Shall seek solace in the sure-fire Ace
Oh!
I see your guttural laugh dissipating!
Because you know
He is coming to judge
The living and the dead
Death, concoct yourself
You will not be passed over
Your internment is at hand
As our people ventilate: death dey smell
You have caused enough pain, sorrow and suffering
To our people
When the master descends on you,
You shall get an overdose
Of your own pills
Death,
You are already ugly;
You are going to look
Even uglier six feet under!
Speculations abound, on the news and Internet.
Doomsday prophecies, when the planets alignments set.
But I have my theories, that I will share with you,
might as well accept it, there's nothing you can do.
Twenty-twelve is coming, that is a simple fact.
Just sit back and read along, have yourself a laugh.
I believe on that day:
That those aliens, that abducted Elvis,
to be their king, will bring him back to us.
Their ship will land on the White House Lawn,
a whole lotta shakin', will be goin' on.
I believe on that day:
Man will find chocolate is a miracle drug.
They'll melt it down and use it, as synthetic blood.
Saving the lives of thousands of women on the verge.
They will find that P.M.S., finally is cured.
I believe on this day:
Jerry Springer will announce his intent,
to run in the next election to be our President.
He has a sure fire way, to end all the wars,
let the leaders fight it out on his shows stage floor.
I believe on that day:
All manner of nonsense will ensue.
I don't think it is a day, that we will come to rue.
Bets in Vegas will still be laid,
our next payday, we will still want paid.
The Earth will turn upon it's axis,
there will still be, death and taxes.
No. 2012, should not be feared.
But, I have my seat reserved, on the next ship outta here.
For the contest: 2012
Hosted by Gareth James
Placement: 1st
A liquorice sweet has a real variety
has been popular for many years
liquorice allsorts are everyone's fav
such a mixture makes one hit the gear
A cold remedy really needs full flavour
blackcurrant and liquorice sweets a real cure
to get you moving, drive Catherine's Wheel
so it's really tasty makes it the real deal
Now quite diverse is Liq Torpedoes
your taste buds feel a sure-fire hit
from there you can have Liq Comfits
too many will make you unfit
When one is offered a cake dessert
you think its a sponge in soft cream
but Pontefract Cakes are so different
Liquorice small tablets, not what they seem
Now also there's Cream Rock and Liq Sticks
too many to mention including Black Jacks
these were the days of liquorice delight
lovely memories of your tasty sweet rack!
(Just a little piece from my memories of favourite liquorice sweets in my younger days.)