Best Thout Poems
Listen my children and ye shall hear,
A tale to make ye quake with fear.
'Tis a scarey tale I tell ye no lie,
Of a man who was told he had to die,
For a crime he committed in the dead of night,
And each Hallows Eve he returns to the site,
Where his body was hung on an old Oak tree.
Steer clear of the place or he'll come after thee.
He searches for them who hung him there,
'Thout proof save the voice of the golden hair.
'Twas she who belied his whereabouts,
So he searches for her within and without;
So if ye be fair with hair of gold,
He'll carry ye off where it's dark and cold.
Keep ye by the hearth on All Hallows Eve.
Now I've said my piece and be takin' my leave.
My father stole my wife, Nadine,
And they run off together.
My brother took off after them,
Hell bent for leather.
I would have gone myself but then,
I was on the job,
So who was there to turn to then,
But Brother Billy-Bob.
He found them in a cheap motel,
The other side of the mountain,
Burst in the room and pulled his gun,
And Dad went down 'thout countin'.
Billy-Bob then grabbed Nadine,
And threw her in the truck,
You'd think he'd bring her straight to me,
But there ain't no such luck.
He looked into her big blue eyes,
Said, You are now my gal.
I really ought to take you home,
But yer purty as a spotted cow.
So now Nadine's with Bill-Bob,
But I guess I'll just leave her.
The best revenge on both of them,
Is fer me to let him keep her.
Your golden hair like Jason's fleece
Flows and streams, now disarrayed, yet neat
Waving as a banner at once to the beat
Yet with promise and rapacity so replete
How your eyes sparkle behind your lids
How they must glow and how they must flick
Flash when they open so wide and blue
Yet now closed, as fire trap't by flue
Your arms now lift, delicate fingers wave
To banish the world of monotony and pain
They so loose and murmuring true meaning
A life I view 'thout your simple, sweet reasoning
As you move, loose rapacious rampant glee
From a world of spirit - simplicity
Your hips they do sway, speak condemnation
Of all misery hereto, to which we seem hasten
Conniving voracious creature which harkens
Is banished and cast off, made but microcosm*
Leo, great lion is as nothing to your rhythm
Struck off as venality to your creation, your schism
The human so simple so caught up by miasma*
Is at once transfixed, in place, in paroxysm*
This viewer at once poised, caught up in his pride
Is now gravitating, and to thee I must slide
Knowest you how wonderfully you exemplify
What is contrast to left - so right
Nay but you don't, and such is thy grace
You dance so light-airy, make perfect this place
Shining hair and glowing eyes
Re-laxed posture, abandoned pride
All memory is cast away, aside
As you dance in beauty, perfection, arised.
* Microcosm - A world in miniature.
* Miasma - A noxious atmosphere or influence
* Paroxysm - A sudden attack or violent expression of a particular emotion or activity
*** The image here represented is supposed to be a girl dancing. Leo was a suitor of hers, rebuffed by the dancer, who enjoyed herself, while dancing alone to "It's a beautiful life," by Ace of Base
To know you is to love you.
You brighten my whole day.
Just what I'd do without you,
I really couldn't say.
Without you to guide me,
I'd not know what to do.
I'd prob'ly think I was okay,
I'm lucky I've got you.
Without you to point it out,
I'd miss most of my faults.
I'd probably just vegetate,
Eat chocolates and drink malts.
You tell me what to say and when,
And what I should wear;
You're quite a find I must admit,
That just shows you care.
You're so well informed and smart,
Not at all like me,
I couldn't do without you,
I really must agree.
Always there to lend a hand,
With "helpful criticism".
I'm so dull and dumb I miss,
Your clever witicisms.
You really ought to leave me,
But that just isn't you;
Because you're so long-suffering,
And your heart is true.
You're so good to stay right here,
And take such care of me;
Showing me where I fall short,
'Thout you where would I be.
You're such a little honey bun,
You fill my life with laughter.
The last time I had this much fun,
They'd just put back my bladder.
(Some people are so busy correcting the faults of their family, friends and neighbors they forget to take stock of their own. People like that don't get invited back very often.)
Hailed through the ages as the staff of life,
It takes many forms in each town and fief.
There's white bread and brown bread, biscuits and scones,
And hoe cakes and muffins, crescents and corn pone.
When setting a table, with china, replete,
Without buns or rolls it's just not complete.
The main dish is scrumptious, the side dishes fine,
But the meal is a bust without bread of some kind;
And when a young man is seeking a wife,
If she can't make a biscuit there's gonna be strife;
So when it's all finished and all's done and said,
Please pass the biscuits, it ain't supper 'thout bread.
My father stole my wife, Nadine,
And they run off together.
My brother took off after them,
Hell bent fer leather.
I would have gone myself but then,
I was on the job,
So who was there to turn to then,
But Brother Billy-Bob.
He found them in a cheap motel,
The other side of the mountain,
Burst in the room and pulled his gun,
And Dad went down 'thout countin'.
Billy-Bob then grabbed Nadine,
And threw her in the truck.
You'd think he'd bring her straight to me,
But there ain't no such luck.
He looked into her big blue eyes,
Said,"You are now my gal.
I really ought to take you home,
But yer purty as a spotted cow."
So now Nadine's with Billy-Bob,
But I guess I'll just leave her.
The best revenge on both of them,
Is for me to let him keep her.
When I finish the row and
yonder my soul is invited-
for my casket will they lay beneath-
I'll take with me desire.
On the top unseen
where we rule the fate of men,
I'll despise my present state;
O that I could perch and mount.
What a wonder yon!
'Thout tales old and vain,
for all folklore will be actuated,
Charles the Darwin will not be.
That land ashore and blissed,
I'll see no monkey in the lineage;
Adam will contend Darwin sore
Who'll wish he'd no manly essence.
Now is my boat rowing
and the tempest doeth beset;
Of fate and destiny am I tossed,
Drifted on course I rest assured.
Blest assurance, O how sweet this sound!
For that voice I once heard again I hear,
In the upheaval the master beckons,
"It's I, fear not."
Gold and silver have not stumbled me,
I've kept rowing and the master holding,
The trances I have and often inadequacy
Have set my face aflint and numb.
mjs 2015
Listen my children and ye shall hear,
A tale to make ye quake with fear.
'Tis a scarey tale I tell ye no lie,
Of a man who was told he had to die,
For a crime he committed in the dead of night,
And on each Hallow's Eve he returns to the site,
Where his body was hung on an old oak tree.
Steer clear of the place or he'll come after thee.
He searches for them who hung him there,
'Thout proof save the voice of the golden hair.
'Twas she who belied his where-abouts,
So he searches for her within and without;
So if ye be fair with hair of gold,
He'll carry ye off where it's dark and cold.
Keep ye by the hearth on All Hallow's Eve,
Now I've said my piece and be taken' my leave.
Judy Ball
I was working alone late one night,
When something occurred that gave me a fright.
Outside my window the moon shone bright,
And I saw something strange in the pale moonlight.
Out on the lawn in the shadows was lurking,
A figure, a shadow, furtively searching,
For a way to get in under cover of darkness,
And I stifled a scream, sought panic to harness.
The figure was tall, slender and lithe,
And as it moved it seemed to drift,
Seeming to float as it moved place to place,
And a cold, clammy sweat ran down my face.
I rushed to make certain the windows and doors,
Were all locked and barred as I ran 'cross the floor.
I turned on the lights both inside and out,
And as I did I heard a great shout.
Please turn off the lights and let me come in.
I will not harm you, I come as a friend.
I did not answer, I ran to my room,
But the voice followed me, seeming to croon,
I wish not to harm or cause aggravation,
And I cannot enter without invitation.
Please come to the door and open to me,
And I'll give you a gift that will set you free.
Such power you'll have that you cannot dream.
I covered my ears and tried not to scream.
I felt myself weaken and I prayed aloud,
Lord, let not my senses this demon becloud.
My prayer was answered, the demon was gone.
'Thout leaving a sign outside on the lawn.
The voice in my head just drifted away,
And did not return in the bright light of day.
I know that somewhere the vampire lies sleeping,
Waiting for night to come out a-creeping.
When the moon is high and the hour is late,
I'll sit by the door with my cross and wait.
Do you see it, do you know
What the mirror sees, how you glow?
Your eyes so bright so fascinating
Your smile so wide, illuminating
You love so well, your soul so free
You embrace it all, even me
Your life seems so simple, you make it so
Although there is much I don't see, or even know
You often can wander, amuse yourself
When I would be stricken, and confused - Myself
Things I would never dare, not even consider
You lunge into 'thout care, 'thout even a dither
You laugh when you smile, and smile thence thus
The whole world is your oyster, quick joy your lust
I can see you now, walking, bright-eyed, into life
the grand marquee, the circus, all strife
You don't care if anyone is near, beside you
Don't care for anyone to protect, to hide you
So where will you go, and what will you do
When all others fail, and I in shadow, lover, mute
Do you think of consequence, of failure, like me
Or do you surge on, no care, conscience free
I often wonder, as I wander in my analytical fugue
Do you wonder, feel, love, know, as I do?
Show me how to pray, Lord,
To communicate with You;
To bring to You my wants and needs,
But first my praises too.
Teach me how to praise You.
Give me the words to say;
To say how much You mean to me,
Teach me how to pray.
I want to say I love You,
How grateful that I am,
For all that You have done for me,
For helping me to stand.
Without Your help I'm nothing, Lord.
'Thout You where would I be.
It's You who floats my tiny boat,
Upon life's stormy sea;
But words aren't all that's needed,
To pay You what You're due.
Teach me how to live my life,
In subjection just to You.
Let my life style be my prayer.
Give me strength and courage too,
The wisdom to know right from wrong,
Firm confidence in You.
Let my life give You all glory.
Help me to show the stuff,
That it takes to serve You well,
For mere words aren't enough.
SMOKEY AND ME
Smokey was a funny cat,
Filled with fun and love;
Adventurous as all cats are,
And Master of the Hunt.
He stalked the house in search of that,
Which posed some kind of threat,
A bug, a mouse, a ball of yarn,
No pest escaped his net,
That he had formed around our house,
He took responsibility,
To protect us from it all,
Because we were his family.
From babyhood he was my ken,
He always slept with me,
We played for hours in the yard,
Beneath the old Oak tree.
We climbed my swing set, climbed the tree,
Played in my sand box too,
Imagine my surprise to find,
He used it for a loo.
Kitty cat and little girl,
Fought jungle wars, climbed trees,
And then we sailed the Seven Seas,
Buccaneers were we.
We'd hide behind the sofa,
The curtains or in the hall,
And wait in ambush for our prey,
We really had a ball.
My sister's boyfriend happened by,
One night as we were hiding,
I yelled,"Chaarge!" and Smokey leaped,
The boy knocked off the siding,
On the book case in the hall,
As Smokey climbed his leg,
And we were sent to bed that night,
'thout supper though I begged.
Incarcerated pirates we,
The game continued on,
We'd wait until they were asleep,
Then eat til it was gone.
Then we'd escape into the night,
With valuables they cherished,
We'd be away by early light,
Leaving the guard embarrassed.
Judy Ball
when wind blows and engine wails
when music rises and tires tear
when gears shift, up without fail
when landscape passes, so does fear
when heart beats and smites in chest
when senses race, beg for life
when human instinct cries, protests
when arrow rises, up and right
when gas is streaming, brakes lie still
when roaring wind fills the head
when speed is great, enough to kill
when glory beckons, til now unfed
when all thoughts leave, save for one
when nothing's left, no pain, despair
when this is reached, the wall undone
this is perfection, without compare
thus who would now this venture dare
who would in this state entail
now who would offer a heartsick pra'er
to the dark Gods, reap souls 'thout fail
we mortals seek this place oh why
this place where thought is total, s'pressed
s'pressed all thought but race or die
race for ever, or from reality fly
Smokey was a funny cat,
Filled with fun and love;
Adventurous as all cats are,
And Master of the Hunt.
He stalked the house in search of that,
Which posed some kind of threat.
A bug, a mouse, a ball of yarn,
No pest escaped the net,
That he had formed around our home;
He took responsibility,
To protect us from it all,
Because we were his family.
From babyhood he was my kin.
He always slept with me.
We played for hours in the yard,
Beneath the old Oak tree.
We climbed my swing set, climbed the tree,
Played in my sand box too.
Imagine my surprise to find,
He used it for a loo.
Kitty cat and little girl,
Fought jungle wars, climbed trees,
And then we sailed the seven seas,
Buccaneers were we.
We'd hide behind the sofa,
The curtains or in the hall,
And wait in ambush for our prey.
We really had a ball.
My sister's boyfriend happened by,
One night as we were hiding.
I yelled, "CHAARGE!" and Smokey leaped,
The boy knocked off the siding.
On the bookcase in the hall,
As Smokey climbed his leg,
And we were sent to bed that night,
'Thout supper though I begged.
Incarcerated pirates we,
The game continued on.
We'd wait until they were asleep,
Then eat till it was gone.
Then we'd escape into the night,
With valuables they cherished.
We'd be away by early light,
Leaving the guard embarrassed.
Hailed through the ages as the staff of life,
It takes many forms in each town and fief.
There's white bread and brown bread, biscuits and scones,
And hoe cakes and muffins, crescents and corn pone.
When setting a table with china replete,
Without buns or rolls it's just not complete.
The main dish is scrumptious, the side dish is fine,
But the meal is a bust without bread of some kind;
And when a young man is seeking a wife,
If she can't make a biscuit there's gonna be strife;
So when it's all finished and all's done and said,
Please pass the biscuits it ain't supper 'thout bread.