Best Tanner Poems
i’ve been compared my whole life
to girls who look prettier
girls who dress nicer
girls who have tanner skin
blonde girls.
blondes are the prettiest
blondes dress the nicest
blondes have the tannest skin
it’s always been a blonde.
every time i’ve been replaced
been told i’m not enough
enough is a blonde.
i’m not stupid
i know enough
to see the pattern
to hear the silence
to feel the sting
before it’s said aloud.
they don’t have to say it—
i see it
i’ve learned how
to fit into “almost”
to swallow the envy like medicine
to smile through the sting of never being chosen
but i’m not going to be
someones maybe
someones safety net
someones placeholder
i am flesh
i am volume
i am more than blonde.
Categories:
tanner, 11th grade, color, hair,
Form:
Free verse
I’m about to tell what’s an important story,
Of a singer who is sadly now long gone,
Whose story needs some increased recognition,
He could p’raps be described a special one.
He was born in nineteen forty two,
And sadly died in nineteen eighty one,
His memory and music though will never be forgot,
His charities and work continue on.
He made a lot of money, in America renowned,
At one point highest paid of all his peers,
And still the homeless charities do work that bears his name,
Despite him being gone for forty years.
At Height of fame he realised a fortune,
At times it reached 2 million a year,
At least a third of it though he did give away,
Philanthropy towards his causes dear.
In Britain there aren’t many who remember Harry’s name,
But some of his songs linger in their head,
They’ve heard about a morning DJ and cradles for cats,
And a better place to be than in their bed.
Songs autobiographical,
And others based on news that he had read,
At first he struggled for success like Mister Tanner did,
Ignored the critics views and what they said.
His passion was world hunger that was unacceptable,
He’d do what he could to eradicate,
The Harry Chapin Foodbank still stands proudly in his name,
And still relieving hunger to this date.
He always felt Long Island was the place to live his dreams,
Perhaps you’d say his opportunity,
To make a massive difference in the world to many folks,
Perhaps you’d say a better place to be.
He co- founded World Hunger Year,
With DJ friend that he knew called Bill Ayres
Congressional Gold Medal, a posthumous award
That later recognised each of his worthy cares.
On July 16th Nineteen eighty one his fate was sealed,
Going to a show in East Meadow, New York,
A truck crashed into him whose fault ended his life,
No more he’d ever sing again or talk.
That could have been the end of things, for others it sure would,
But Harry is the subject of this rhyme,
His legacy maybe seems as important as his life,
And not diminished with passing of time.
Theatres and student halls named in his memory,
Foundation chaired by Sandy, she his wife,
His legacy continues to improve the world today,
This story of a most important life.
Categories:
tanner, poverty,
Form:
Rhyme
Back in the day when kids could just play
Without the fear of being stolen away,
We would be out at almost first light
Only in for our meals until it were night.
Football and cricket both in their season,
Just to be out was a good enough reason.
You could run down the entry trying to hide,
It weren't full of junk, people then had pride.
Our Mum's donkey stoned steps, straight as a die,
If you stood on 'em wet, a clip made you cry.
Even the binmen were all trained in their skill,
A brush and shovel was there to pick up the spill.
All the tradesmen knew to deliver proper, no lip,
If they were cheeky or late,no Christmas tip.
At Kitties Greengrocer us lads would be keen,
To be picked on a Saturday to keep the place clean.
Down in the cellar we'd go and boxes we'd stack,
If it wasn't done right you didn't come back.
Those picked for the shop sometimes came a cropper,
The hardest job there was filling that huge spud hopper.
We got maybe a tanner or bob if the job was well done,
Bellies were full and we got stuff to take home to Mum.
Not many toys,but with a bat n ball we had fun all day,
Back in the day when kids could just play.
© Dave Timperley 3 October 2016
Categories:
tanner, childhood, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
You’re only a mum,
But that’s all it takes.
To be super human,
You don’t even get breaks.
You’re a cook, A dish washer,
A cleaner, a nurse.
A teacher, a councillor,
A referee, an open purse.
A sports coach, a cheerleader,
The taxi of mum.
At 2am in the morning,
Just a call and you will come.
Party, event organiser,
And holiday planner.
Clothes and food shopper,
Listener, and even fake tanner.
No time for yourself,
No breaks and no wages.
Dealing with toddler tantrums,
And hormonal rages.
You always come last,
and you always feel tired.
You should have a rest,
But it’s not how you’re wired.
A thankless task,
That’s never ever done.
You’re often left feeling,
Where is the fun?
Hot drinks or warm food,
Now rarely cross your lips.
And your underwear
All tattered with holes and rips.
To cap it all off,
you go out to work too.
It’s nothing short of amazing,
Just what you can do.
You are super human!
Admit it you must.
You must be a saint,
For the gut you must bust.
But it all becomes worth it,
When you look at their smiles.
Being a mum has to be
the best job by miles.
Categories:
tanner, child, children, funny love,
Form:
Rhyme
Sometimes I wonder where I am in the scheme of things;
I often ponder who I am.
The more I age the more epiphany's I get;
each of them making a different man.
Yesterday's me could never foresee who I am now.
I can't pretend I'm not surprised.
Who I have become seems to be a stranger to me,
It's like I'm looking through another man's eyes
Who am I, who are you, who are we
Whoever we are, is it who we should be?
Is there a reason for all this, is there something I missed
that could tell me definitively
Who I am, who you are, who are we
Do you ever wonder if there's more than meets the eye;
something's afoot behind the scenes?
Is there a point to this life we live pointlessly,
that couldn't be imagined in our dreams?
Do tears cried throughout the years, have purpose in the end,
or should we weep more because they don't?
I think everyone should seek for a reason in life
There's no chance of finding meaning if you won't
Who am I, who are you, who are we
Whoever we are, is it who we should be?
Is there a reason for all this, is there something I missed
that could tell me definitively
Who I am, who you are, who are we
Why did I bring this all up anyway
Just sharing thoughts as I think of a tune
I guess I just had to get it all out
as I write me a song in my room;
musing on life as I do
Who am I, who are you, who are we
Whoever we are, is it who we should be?
Is there a reason for all this, is there something I missed
that could tell me definitively
Who I am, who you are, who are we
© L. James Tanner
Categories:
tanner, introspection, wisdom,
Form:
Lyric
“Magic Arrives”
“In love with me yet?”
she said and the
world laughed
at least
for once,
they
didn’t look
so grim
magic arrives
to haunt
flirting It captures
the poetry of life
romance in disguise
is born then dies
walking through fire
for Love
to rise
magic arrives
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“The Stars in Our Dust” / Nova Orum
https://youtu.be/l8RKeST7CMw
Innerbloom (feat. Tanner Fruit & Cassie Wilson)
https://youtu.be/2_90TNQlgnI
“We don’t see the world how it is.
We see the world how we are.”
Categories:
tanner, muse,
Form:
Free verse
On the ocean waves in a stormy sea
goblinskin sails fly o'er me.
To a far off lands wid bloody hands;
upon Savage’s shore did 'e land.
“Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!”
Threw a mad mans skull, 'e spot me prey;
and call me black 'earts into the fray.
Knee deep in mud and covered wid gore
I gouge out der gold teeth ta add to me store.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
At least its nae a part of me!
We loads de treasure, raise anchors of bone;
hoist high de midsail and fly fast home.
Wid a new gold tooth and diamonds rare;
an' Booberie feathers dance’n me hair.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
From de Slaugh bones jaw 'pon m' knee;
I carve a comb wid a tee hee hee.
Wid a skillful 'and an a bone white knife;
I finish a fob ta bring ta me wife.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
To Cursing's foul harbor threw sewage galore;
bundles of pelts stacked ta da fore,
down da plank, 'e walk wid swaggering stride;
viper oil coats the sword at me side.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
Threw thieves’ foul dens 'e carry me horde
unload at de tanner, strut ‘board.
“Cook ‘ere!” I holler “Bring me dat stew!”
Snowbeast meat pie and hearty brew.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
Ghoulskin sails unfurled, storm crestin' high
'e sail out ta plunder and land 'e spy.
“Ahoy! Me buckos! What’s ’pon dat shore?”
monsters dressed in bones, naught more.
“Sing Hey, Ho, I be wild and free…..
“By gum,” der dressed in de likes a me.”
Categories:
tanner, adventure, funny, me, me,
Form:
Lyric
dear journal:
hip hop to me is a DREAM WITH A JOURNAL,
a journal with written poems about yourself,
about your health, or maybe about how you need help,
think of it as an autobiography,
written from your life's history,
a journal with misery hidden behind each page,
sadness that might lead up to madness with a slight rage,
a journal about your best or maybe even your worst day,
but most of all a journal that says what you want it to say.
-Tanner Cox
a.k.a
-Profound
Categories:
tanner, art, friendship, passion, song-
Form:
Free verse
In a little wood box
lies her greatest treasure
A priceless gem
worth can't be measured
In a little wood box
There's a pair of shoes
A special gift
for church and school
She wants to run to it
Wants to look inside
But she can only sit
and stare wide eyed
There's someone talking
she can't hear
There's music playing
soft somewhere
But she just hears the clock
as she stares at a little wood box
In a little wood box
There's a pair of glasses
They're custom made
In the latest fashion
In a little wood box
Is a little bow tie
Made it herself
for her special guy
Her husband helps her up
holds her close to him
walks her through the crowd
people watching them
If it wasn't for him
she couldn't move
It's seems so surreal
so untrue
And finally when they stop
she looks into that little wood box
Just eight years old
in his young prime
Made it to school
but never left this time
Her dreams shot down
in the blink of an eye
a man took his life
she still wonders why
In that little wood box
she brushes off his shoes
straightens his glasses
and his bow tie too
In that little wood box
lies her greatest treasure
A priceless gem
worth can't be measured
© L. James Tanner
Categories:
tanner, grief, heartbroken,
Form:
Lyric
On a pirate ship in a stormy sea;
goblinskin sails fly o'er me.
To a far off lands wid bloody hands;
upon Savage’s shore did 'e land.
“Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!”
Threw a mad mans skull, 'e spot me prey;
and call me black 'earts into the fray.
Knee deep in mud and covered wid gore
I gouge out der gold teeth ta add to me store.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
At least its nae a part of me!
We loads de treasure, raise anchors of bone;
hoist high de midsail and fly fast home.
Wid a new gold tooth and diamonds rare;
an' Booberie feathers dance’n me hair.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
From de Slaugh bones jaw 'pon m' knee;
I carve a comb wid a tee hee hee.
Wid a skillful 'and an a bone white knife;
I finish a fob ta bring ta me wife.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
To Cursing's foul harbor threw sewage galore;
bundles of pelts stacked ta da fore,
down da plank, 'e walk wid swaggering stride;
viper oil coats the sword at me side.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
Threw thieves’ foul dens 'e carry me horde
unload at de tanner, strut ‘board.
“Cook ‘ere!” I holler “Bring me dat stew!”
Snowbeast meat pie and hearty brew.
Sing Hey, Ho, ’m wild and free;
at least its nae a part of me!
Ghoulskin sails unfurled, storm crestin' high
'e sail out ta plunder and land 'e spy.
“Ahoy! Me buckos! What’s ’pon dat shore?”
monsters dressed in bones, naught more.
“Sing Hey, Ho, I be wild and free…..
“By gum,” der dressed in de likes a me.”
Categories:
tanner, adventure, fantasy, funnyme, me,
Form:
Lyric
imma microphone killa gorilla, ballistic
you can try to come and get with me but only if your mystic
i work with grand wizards, lyrical lizards
we slithers into your body mind n soul
we puff bowls as we spew coals
hot no ashy words, catcha with a hip-hop curse
i spit one sick verse n you come down with the flu
its like h1n1 lyrical sick son
don't wanna mess with none, ill leave you dead from the barrel of my tongue
~Tanner Cox
A.K.A
~Profound
Categories:
tanner, art, music, song-sick,
Form:
Free verse
The Mystery Of Girls.
When I was just a nipper
And I was very small
I didn’t really like girls
At all
I found most were very spiteful
And when at primary school
No one wanted to kiss me
When we played in the farmers den
But looking back now
Looking at the state of some
Who’d want a kiss from them
Always playing elastic hopscotch
And two balls against a wall
They seemed like a different species
Full of mystery voices like fog horns
When they shouted and called
Of course I found some pretty
And I was madly in love with Marilyn
Elsie Tanner and Doris Day
And I was so jealous of Elvis
Surrounded by pretty girls all day
Unless you were a Tomboy on the Common
Girls generally hanged around together in gangs
And us boys in ours
We had so many adventures
Went on long walks through the fields
And wouldn’t be back for hours
I had three blister sisters
We had good times and some bad
But wearing my sisters hand me downs
Didn’t make me glad but sad
I had to dance with a girl around a maypole
Yuck!!! I was so embarrassed
What if my sister blisters and mum found out
So I just watched from a safe distance
When I opted out
As puberty came along
I couldn’t help noticing
Something was wrong
As girls started sprouting everywhere
And when adolescence finally came
I noticed things had really changed
Girls looked so pretty
their hair smelled nice too
I wanted one or two
At school and the Laughton Common youth club
I’d be in love with a new girl every week
But they sere not in love with me
I was shy and could hardly speak
I was so embarrassed
My Mum would find out I liked girls
And my older sister would tease
I was 33
Before I brought a girlfriend home
And put posters and pictures up in my bedroom
As far as the eye could see
Been out with a few Rotherham Lasses
Who must have been short-sighted
And needed glasses
But I'm a good guy with a big heart
Who just wants to settle down
I have a lot of respect and appreciation
For the women in our town
Just need someone to share life with
Before the sun goes down
For the last time.
Peter Dome©2019.
Categories:
tanner, childhood, first love, funny
Form:
Verse
She sits on the bathroom floor
Hiding behind a tightly closed door
Afraid that prying eyes will see
What society has forced her to be
With fingers pushed halfway down her throat
On the remains of dinner she silently chokes
The taunting cries of her classmates in mind
Loudly calling her fat all the time
Just a size ten but not a three
Like the girls in magazines you see
Thighs that need to be as slim as a boys
Boobs need to be as large as flotation toys
He sits and stares at his pale skin
Apparently white is out, tan is in
Long hours spent on a tanning bed
Risking skin cancer to fit in instead
Only sixteen, muscles not developed yet
Need to be leaner and stronger he frets
And so the need to be more than he is drives
To bottles of steroids he soon arrives
The school bell rings, all the kids scatter
Except one lonely girl that seems not to matter
Classified as poor by the labels on her jeans
Not worth socializing with by those that have means
The parking lot is filled with such flashy cars
Kids talking on cell phones, their heads in the stars
Gucci sunglasses draped across their nose
Life as an stereotype dawns clear and slows
Everyone wants to emulate a great big star
Society tells them it's no good to be who you are
You have to be better than everyone else you see
The thinner, the tanner, the richer, the better you'll be
Girls should be blond, blue eyed and demure
Sexy and seductive, rich and not poor
Boys should be muscular yet tanned and lean
With smiles so white they blind when seen
Everyone needs to drive a fast fancy car
Designer clothes are the very best by far
For all those that don't fit the wonderful dream
The world doesn't even see them it seems
Too much hype splashed across billboards to the young
Expectations are too high but are haphazardly slung
Into the schoolyard the hype does quickly spread
Feeding egos and turning them into bullies instead
Those that have more and who fit the desired mold
Hassling those that haven't reached the gold
Next thing you know there's a kid with a gun
Trying to silence the voices of everyone
Then we wonder what happened to him
Well the truth is, he just couldn't fit in
Too many stereotypes not enough understanding
Life just became too absolutely demanding
Categories:
tanner, people, sad, social, cancer,
Form:
Rhyme
Bloomin Eck,Bloomin Eck !
I just got mi-sen a job.
A mista wants his coal in,
An offed me a bob.
He told me if a hurry up,
A can chop some stiks an all.
But if tha wants another tanna,
A gorra mek um small.
He watched me gerrin coal in,
He anded me a shillin.
If tha wants that extra tanna lad,
Them bags o stiks want fillin.
A BOB and a shilling were the same value
Equivalent to 5 new pence(12 old penny's)
A tanner was 2 1/2 new pence(6 old penny's)
25/6/2022
Categories:
tanner, fun, funny, work, youth,
Form:
Rhyme
Gross misconduct bullets falling like rain drops
Mosquitoes kissing marinated children
While in the hood homeless and thugs
Suck on those the things unruly plugs
Crack-cocaine, meth, mary-jane
Elusive while simultaneously being inclusive
Only check me N marching boys to men
Both dying over seas
Are we protecting democracy
So they be so illiterate literally can't pull the trigger
Might have put a fon to his heads go figure
Counterfeit dreams nightmares
So they fought for us they be home now
Lock them up seclude them drug them out checkmate it's a stand still Satan steals and kills
He even tries to bends our wills women mothers crying because their boys and men are out in the war they come back home they're being denied governments denying urban city countries wars going to get you got mine seasons change what it is what it ain't none of that mistreatment and where are the trains on the railroad tracks cell phone tires towers missing children the promises of ups All I see is down mental health rising And I'm on a checkerboard multi-colored squares summer black summer white that's the closest we touch Where is the heaven where God is my witness yet it seems like he dismissed us in Jesus what color is he black or white or is he red yellow Tanner Brown Is he mine Is he yours do we just belong to the burns And how do birds live or more how do they sore in the sky or how I wished and I could fly I know I never die because my true self is energy but I don't want to be consumed and compiled in the colds of raising fires I want to live in a new body and love embrace by the father above the Grossman's conduct of my flesh body deformation my character caught up and pride like Illuminati The only luminess that I want to shine in is the resistance being a child of God about living God I light shines from my heart outward I light I come across the evils of myself first I liked this game in this worldly plain and it's physical vein I light I am of prophetic energies I am like in my father and he might be in every step that I take I go right because if I were to go left it would be checkmate?
4/6/23
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Categories:
tanner, analogy, anxiety, character, emotions,
Form:
Dramatic Verse