Best Thirtieth Poems
Born in Ireland in eighteen seventy four
He was a remarkably brave explorer
Three times to Antartica he did go
To that barren wilderness of ice and snow.
Once with Captain Scott and twice on his own
And it was on his third visit that his bravery became known
The expedition was to reach the southern pole
For all the great explorers, it was the ultimate goal.
The Weddell sea was freezing and tightened its grip
And crushed the Endurance, the expedition ship
The crew saved all the equipment and food stores too
They were stranded on an ice floe there was nothing they could do.
But the floe breaks up and on the sea it floats
So the order was given to launch the life boats
They set sail for Elephant island in the southern ocean
And with worsening conditions approached it with caution.
It was a temporary move, they knew they couldn't stay
Shackleton had to get help, there was no other way
Except for five crewmen all the rest did remain
On the island for four months with its inhospitable terrain.
South Georgia was the place that they needed to get to
From there they would be able to launch a rescue
Eight hundred nautical miles they had to row and sail
Through gigantic waves with snow, ice and hail.
Stromness whale station, it was their goal
But on their boat the harsh conditions had taken their toll
South of the island they had to land on a beach
Thirty six hours north was help, they needed to reach.
Three of the crew were taken ill, no more could they take
So Shackleton and two others, a long trek they did make
They trekked in conditions that could have caused harm
But they reached the whale station and raised the alarm.
The three sick crewman were rescued, thankfully still alive
And the twenty two on Elephant island were struggling to survive
Penguin and seal meat was what they had to eat
But they kept their hopes up not admitting defeat.
On August the thirtieth in nineteen sixteen
A Chilean navy ship on the horizon was seen
It was Shackletons fourth attempt to rescue his crew
Their ordeal was now over, but hell they'd been through.
Written 9th January 2018
Categories:
thirtieth, natural disasters,
Form:
Narrative
We gathered for our thirtieth class reunion at Lydia's Smorgasbord.
I'd avoided such past events since in school I was largely ignored!
But my spouse proclaimed we would attend, thus ending that debate!
The dreaded encounter is expressed in verse below that I will now relate!
A social hour preceded the buffet where the booze freely flowed!
I looked about the room to see if I could spot anyone that I knowed.
I hardly recognized the campus queen - she had acquired a heap of weight!
That once haughty snob now tipped the scales, I judged, at one ninety-eight!
I saw the big-man-on-campus who was named most apt to score success.
He had a dearth of hair, an ample gut and an astonishing lack of finesse!
Some gal with purple hair staggered up to me and planted a slobbering kiss!
Must've been one of my old flames as I mused, "Now, who in hell is this!"
Guys gravitated my way boasting about this and that bending my ear.
They bored me with nasty jokes and trivia that I really didn't want to hear!
Of course I told all how great they looked, staring them dead in the eye,
And asking the Lord's forgiveness and crossed my fingers for telling such a lie!
The jocks were trying to impress one and all with their waning capabilities.
Most were hobbling about with canes discreetly masking their disabilities!
'Twas an interesting eve and the grub was great, of that there is no doubt,
But for our fortieth, fiftieth and sixtieth reunions, please include me out!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
thirtieth, funny, school, me, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Five Tomatoes Away
Five tomatoes away
from devastation.
The bullies bully me.
They give big breaks to
corporations-While taking
unfair shares from citizens
and cutting down on
pensions and "Social Security".
I have no security!
The Arabs store on
the corner is
selling wine, beer and
cigarettes.
Sending their tax free
money home to
fight against our boys.
His taxes are
deferred, and when
time comes to pay
The business is now
switched into his cousin’s name.
One tomato is two dollars...
so I am five tomatoes away,
and I haven't had a salad today. I
am being raped, while they
are getting breaks.
I get reprimanded
severely, they are always
Shaking my tree.
I said "I have no money"
I am not living here tax free.
The levy goes
into effect on the
thirtieth day, so
I budget sparingly,
and have had no
salad today;
I am five tomatoes
away, from homelessness
and devastation;
I wish I had a break like the big
corporations
One day before
I leave this planet I hope to
find dignity.
And eat a Salad everyday
and live life healthily
never again
having to worry
about being
Five Tomatoes away.
Getting old around
here is horrible;
My senior years
unpleasant....
I paid my dues to the
I.R.S., now they
want another present.
I hope to survive
another day, while
they tax my pension;
And so, I pray....
let me eat
another salad, in spite
of being ....
Five Tomatoes Away!
So yes, I've had no tomatoes,
I've had no tomatoes today.!
Categories:
thirtieth, planet,
Form:
Free verse
There was a self pinky swear that I couldn't forget,
"Enough of looking for a boyfriend after my 30th."
And that pinky swear has been obeyed,
Though I always seek for someone to be with.
Relationships went wrong,
Nobody gave me peace like home.
So then I stopped searching,
I let my heart rest from any breaking.
And when I decided to only wait for the one,
There's this man who came named Brian.
I wasn't looking for love when I knew him,
But love found me and my heart gave in.
I know and he knows that he's not my first,
But yes, he came before I reach my thirtieth.
He loves me and accepts me for who I am,
He's a perfect picture of my dream man.
Sometimes I ask myself if I really deserve him,
For he is too good to be true like I'm just dreaming.
But when he said; "For all the struggles that you've been through, you really deserve to be loved."
That's when I knew that he's the man that I never had.
I finally found someone who feels like home,
My heart is at peace and my life is at its bloom.
No words can express how happy and loved I am,
When I met and fell in love with this man named Brian.
I love the way he utters my name,
It's like music to my ears when he calls me "Jen."
I also love the way he talks,
It is so good just like his looks.
I love his lips especially when he smiles,
I love the way he looks at me with those pretty blue eyes.
But beyond the physical appearance of this man,
His character is what I really love about Brian.
He accepts me in his life with no hesitations,
He loves my flaws and my imperfections.
All he wants is just to see me being happy,
That makes me fall for him more each and every day.
Showing his love for me is very consistent,
The kind of love that I really dreamt.
He knows how many heartaches I had,
And I like the way he handles my heart with tender love.
He is the kind of man that I've been looking for,
A man who healed me and became my cure.
He knows how to handle me on my worst days,
He makes me smile when I'm about to frown at my face.
Brian is the kind of man with respect,
I love it when he considers my opinion in all decisions that he will make.
But there's one thing that I really love about Brian,
And that is when he includes me in his every plan.
Categories:
thirtieth, love, romance,
Form:
Rhyme
A.W. Nutter
Morning grass laden with diamonds
Reflecting light as the sun ascends
Sleep riddled muscles slow to respond
Fear shoved aside as hunger transcends
Past sins continue to haunt the present
Forever trapped in an earth bound hell
The plague of suffering is heaven sent
My soul imprisoned in a living shell
Born to a sadist, another reprobate
Life a facsimile of countless others
Reincarnation, my preordained fate
Symbolic murders in my thirtieth year
Breeze caressing, naked legs and chest
Involuntarily shivering from the cold
God's retribution, collecting his debt
As this day of torture begins to unfold
My master approaches giving me a kiss
Before he begins carving away the skin
Eons of screams, echoing in the abyss
No salvation offered, no remission of sin
Categories:
thirtieth, death, imagination, religion
Form:
Rhyme
THIS MAN CALLED JESUS - 3
He left His home in glory
And came as a babe to earth
Born in the town of Bethlehem
To a mother of virgin birth
He worked as the son of a carpenter
Till He reached His thirtieth year
Then ministered with twelve chosen men
Performing miracles everywhere
On a cross He was cruelly crucified
His life blood He freely shed
He was buried in a borrowed tomb
Three days later, He arose from the dead
He ascended to His Father in Heaven
He will sit in judgment of men
Make this Man called Jesus your Savior
Thank God, He’s coming again!
Curtis Moorman
12 June 2013
Categories:
thirtieth, christian, jesus,
Form:
Rhyme
We'd have had a party today
But we never got the chance to play
No bottles shaken, no first steps taken
No diapers to throw away
We never wished on a star
Or climbed on monkey bars
No knee boo boos, no trips to the zoo
No wagon rides or plastic cars
It would have been fun to play catch in the yard
Teach you poker or stupid tricks with cards
Your first girlfriend, what fun that would've been
Your first date in the family car
I could've taught you a few manly jokes
But not around your mom or other folks
I'd have built you a pool, watched you graduate high school
Maybe ski behind the family boat
You'd have graduated college by now
Be a doctor or lawyer somehow
Whatever made you happy, would've made me happy
Today we'd be saying wow
You would've been thirty today
But God took you away
If one wish would come true
Just to say I love you
And son Happy Thirtieth Birthday
Feb 10 2016
An original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Categories:
thirtieth, birthday, father son, sad
Form:
Rhyme
It is tender and blue, unspeakable
Quiet land after tempests and storms
And my soul’s boundless field, it’s typical,
It is smelling with honey and rose.
I calmed down. Years gave me the reason,
I don’t blame things that happened and passed,
Like the furious horses in threesome
were rolled all over country so fast.
They have dusted with hooves all around and then
They have lost with the whistle of fiend,
In the timber asylum here and now I can
hear that leaf quietly flies in the wind.
Is it bell or far echo? And easily
All is stabbing again in my chest,
Hold it, soul, we have passed through the misery
Of this life where I was only guest.
We’ll find out everything that was seen in days,
What did happen in country, what’s wrong,
We’ll forgive all offenders for their ways,
Their fault, our fault, all is done.
I accept all that happened and that was not,
But I’m sorry for my thirtieth year –
Oh, my youth, I demanded not so a lot
in the tavern and it wasn’t fair.
But in fact, a young oak, that’s not ready share
With its acorns, bends like grass in field,
Oh, my riotous youth when I wasn’t care,
Golden madcap who cannot just yield.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Sergey Yesenin
Categories:
thirtieth, emotions, feelings, metaphor, philosophy,
Form:
Lyric
My spouse and I attended my thirtieth class reunion at Lydia's Smorgasbord.
I had avoided such past events since in high school I was largely ignored!
But my wife proclaimed that we would attend, thus ending that debate!
The dreaded encounter is expressed in verse below that I will now relate.
A social hour preceded the smorgasbord where the booze freely flowed.
I looked about the room to see if I could spot anyone that I knowed.
I hardly recognized the campus queen - she had acquired a heap of weight!
That once haughty snob now tipped the scales, I judged, at one ninety-eight!
I saw the big-man-on-campus that was named most apt to score success.
He had a dearth of hair, a girth of gut and an astonishing lack of finesse!
Some gal with purple hair staggered up to me and planted a slobbery kiss!
Must've been one of my old flames as I mused, "Who in the hell is this?"
Guys gravitated my way boasting of this and that, bending my weary ear,
Boring me with nasty jokes and trivia that I really didn't care to hear!
Of course I told others how great they looked, staring them dead in the eye,
I asked the Lord's forgiveness and crossed my fingers for telling such a lie!
The jocks were trying to impress one and all with their former capabilities.
Most were hobbling about with canes discreetly masking their disabilities.
'Twas an interesting eve and the grub was great, of that there was no doubt.
But for the fortieth, fiftieth and sixtieth reunions, please include me out!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Categories:
thirtieth, school,
Form:
Rhyme
today we have gathered here on one accord
to celebrate this union orchestrated by the Lord
a marriage, that state of matrimony what our people call 'jumping the broom"
for Aleshia Zaneta, the beautiful bride and Trevor Anthony, the handsome groom
marriage is not to be taken lightly it requires a whole lot of labor
just always love and respect each other as you already have God's favor
you're evenly yoked in your faith and true disciples of Christ
remember in all things to put God first and let Him guide your lives
as a husband Trevor your role is to protect, respect and support
and never to answer that question, "honey, do I look fat in these shorts?"
as a wife Aleshia your role is to encourage, respect and keep the home neat
and train your new husband Trevor not to leave up the toilet seat
whenever I'm in the presence of the both of you
I see the love you have for each other emanating through
and when I happen to see you gazing into each other's eyes
I see the wonder on your faces that God has given you this love prize
It's May thirtieth in the year two thousand nine and we'll never forget this date
for that's when we witnessed a union of love which is rooted in faith
CONGRATULATIONS, HALLELUJAH, OH HAPPY DAY
I WRITE THIS POEM OF LOVE FOR YOU BOTH ON YOUR WEDDING DAY
Categories:
thirtieth, anniversary, celebration, faith, god,
Form:
Epithalamium
He rode in from Texas, calmly chewing a piece of straw.
Folks rumored him a Ranger, some sorta man of Law.
An expressionless face, eyes close 'n stern.
Long barreled pistol, well kept 'n tied down firm.
It was the thirtieth of October, I remember it well.
Sit back 'n relax, I'll narrate the Stranger's tale.
Beer 'n whiskey shots, made the Stranger's tongue loose.
Tugs at his scarf, revealed scars from a noose.
Said he'd come to Denver, to escape the prairie fires.
Recipients of his story, placed him amongst certain liars.
Utterances of bright lights, in a calm night watch dream.
Stampeded cattle, loud voices 'n a haunting scream.
Empty hollow eyes, like death the Stranger was cold.
The annual midnight curse, is what the Ranger told.
Awoke in the saddle, by a Dark Angel of certain death.
Calm night air stirred, vapors rise from cattle's breath.
Focus controlled visions of the chilled dark night.
Squinted images appear from his questioned sight.
At one stroke past midnight, the curse we all had seen.
The Stranger changed to a man of straw, twas now Halloween!
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright © : August 31st, 2003 ~ Sunday
Categories:
thirtieth, cowboy-westernnight, dark, dark, night,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Deep within throes of writer's block cerebral cortex feels frozen to the core
Haint no rhyme nor reason
why writing a poem such an arduous chore
twenty two days afore
winter solstice twenty twenty more
or less three weeks from tomorrow
November thirtieth, I implore
the god/goddess of poetry,
perhaps found within Bangalore
highlighted by the 'Green Door'
guarded by the key don Eeyore
also known as Al Gore
him of Earth in the Balance fame
who by George got ambushed unsure
if he chad chance to claim victory tour
when former candidate did score
less electoral college votes
nevertheless in my mind before
thoroughgoing count did ignore
discarded ballots scattered
all across the floor
which outcome incurred Iraq war
insinuating weapons of mass destruction
the gung ho forty third president forswore
existed but quite a few
respectable Republicans did abhor
pinning such ambiguous lore
upon head of recalcitrant Saddam Hussein
bombed back to stone age
think lavishing primitive home decor
no imprecation heaped and hurled
upon United States military, nor
thug, who nobody did adore
asking politely "por favor
can I pretty please take detour
to Galapagos Islands of Ecuador
made famous courtesy Charles Darwin
still popular best selling author
at garden variety generic bookstore
which borders on ridiculous for sure
yet inane rhyme tore
thru my noggin after writer's block
yours truly did deplore
he would spend countless hours in vain
every burst of creativity I did explore
found me smack dab against
figurative cul de sac and bonjour
to you too three score
orbitz after me late papa did bore
mama, she passed away
fifteen years before.
Categories:
thirtieth, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Another Day...Another Accursed Blank Screen
Ma wink'n and blink'n
mind nod yet awake,
nor insights keen,
asper ho hum usual, this
(day-glo bull leave
me you) after noon,
(October thirtieth
two thousand and eight teen),
mine myopic brown
marbled occipital orbs
fixate upon a
lone blinking cursor -
hooping such intense stare
will magically glean
a divine comedy,
or even mediocre
shaky spear writ tragedy, none
the less letting thoughts
glom (cess) pool like
into some elusive essence,
finding me madly chasing
(feebly, lamely, queerly
and ridiculously
likened to a teen
age paramour) intriguing,
nattering, and wordlessly
spellbinding notion
all the way to Abilene,
perhaps metamorphosing
into a topnotch
poem (ska lean),
swiftly tailored harried
style even out rivaling
the best newsy
Lake Woebegone fabulist
(formerly Nordic European)
scribes, that juiced might earn
me some crisp
legal tender green,
yet impetus to write,
NOT predicated on ram
ping up checking account,
which primary queen
tis essential money source
of mine to pay bills
appears extremely lean,
and thus apologize if
any hint of desperation
(PULL EASE pledge to
Matthew Scott Harris charity)
seeps extemporaneously typing
this poetic expression,
when financial resources
picked bone dry clean,
and me fanciful
thoughts cannot help
wishing for miraculous
intervention tub bring,
a raft of smiley faces
tomb eye gentle mien
such as receiving
an anonymous bajillion
dollars donated (tummy)
from tennis scene legend
(in her own mind)
aery Billy Jean
King, whose near
exhaustive earnings -
at least compared
to thy germane mein kampf
(accrued during - her mist
starry re:us horse sing around)
straw berry fields
forever hay day
with tangerine trees,
and marmalade skies
completing tennis
(tense) backdrop against
engendered match with
the late Bobby Riggs.
Categories:
thirtieth, 11th grade, art, dream,
Form:
Lyric
Riotous revellers' laughter drifts up from their apricot lit late night haunts, four cafes are notoriously avoided venues for overindulgent consumption of alcohol.
Across the street, from my thirtieth floor apartment window, remote portrait of bodies bent enthralled over their beers,
toads on stools at mushroom stem tables.
Flicker of forbidden recognition crosses my cortex,
- I'm a resident of Broadwater Tower now.
Unstated policy prohibits proximity with riff raff.
Our bar ensures we wear careful attire,
floor gleams mirror marble.
Chrome and cracked leather oud absorbs expensive scents.
Ladies laughter upscale conflicts the low fading mens' vocal.
Tipsy sensation enhanced by deck docked
rolling prestigious flagpole chiming yachts.
Over the road, neolithic neon signs post grotesque cafe names,
Salivate, Green Grotto among them.
Customers come from squat squashed suburbs,
five minute drive away.
Dive bar dark sparks alcoholic amphibians unremarkable bravado.
January holiday season sees sardines huddled heartily under awnings, abandoning next morning necessity.
24th February 2023
151 words
Written for Contest: Four Cafes
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Categories:
thirtieth, character, fashion,
Form:
Prose
K-eep your chin up,
E-vade the forlorn sight;
N-ew dawn has broken,
N-ever stay in the night.
A-im to keep your chin up, remain joyful in the dark day;
H-igh up in the wide sky, as the clouds are gray.
G-ladly keep your chin up,
A-ugust thirtieth Wednesday;
B-e mirthful and glad
I-n the midst of bleak way.
S-mile in a tough situation,
A-llow not the thrill to stop;
N-ever fret nor worry, keep your chin up.
Categories:
thirtieth, birthday,
Form:
Acrostic