Best Throw Out Poems
They congregate in a bog
vying to be the boss hog
all the teethy little fishes
Swimming in circles they go
Baldy, Waldo, and Bozo
When one of them dishes
they all start to nibble
Watch them hurry to the bog
mouths drooling with dribble.
Throw out the chum
and watch them bite
at each other's bum.
It's a hilarious sight.
Swimming in circles they go
Feeding time is status quo
Along the shore they creep,
waiting to dive into the deep.
It's a condition known as stasis
but has no factual basis.
There's no hurry to reel them in
once they've been hooked.
Their circus act can be booked.
Swimming in circles they go
Banjo, Bongo and Bo Bo
A school of big mouth bass
from waters of the lower class
floating around in the bog
getting themselves waterlogged.
~ I am a Conservative
Here is who I am
and what I stand for ~
C onserving what is worth preserving
O pen to changing what's not working
N ot willing to throw out the baby with the bathwater
S teadfast when those around me are scurrying
E nabling my children and relatives to succeed
R eligious in the ecumenical sense of the word
V itally interested in my community's welfare
A larmed by the rise in incivility in public discourse
T ender-hearted and giving to the stranger, the widow, the orphan
I nterested in politics, but not obsessed with it
V oracious reader of classical fiction and non-fiction
E nduring privation graciously, with faith and trust in God
Why is sweetness a target for the buggiest frights?
Sweets do attract the sweet but
honey can come with a sting.
You see, the dern ants are in the honey jar
so I had to throw out the thing!
Why is it you can’t have anything sweet without ants?
You know, I’ve never seen a nose on an ant, have you?
The sweet ones don’t run around with signs on there backs.
Do they?
Seems the buggy ones always win
or foul the honey.
Why is sweetness a target for the buggiest frights?
Children should be able to eat sweets from anyone.
But, they can’t. There’s always a nut job somewhere.
Perhaps, sweet things should evolve a sting?
You get in the honey jar and you say die of diabetes?
Unless, the sweet thing gives you the auntie dote.
Sweets do attract sweet but
at least the honey bee HAS a sting!
Things would stay sweet a lot longer without coocoonuts!
Becarefull NOT to let ants in the honey jar,
or..you’ll have to throw it ALL out!
Rap like Rabbit battle Rap
21/05/2018
Livin by the beach and baby life’s good
Not stuck in a rut or in a crummy hood
I’m writing tight rhymes like you know you should
Or like you thought you would
No like you wish you could
But man you ain’t got no wood
Your actions so sloppy n soft
I’m holdin the trophy aloft
Yeah my critics they all scoffed
But my paper leads the way
To hear my rap you gotta pay
The pretty skirts all wanna stay
So many I gotta shoo em away
Cause I’m the one you wanna be,
livin the dream and copping cream
Yeah I’m the one they wanna see, they be givin it away for free
Now listen up a while
And you’ll hear my roarin style
Insults on you I’ll pile
So deep you’ll run 8 mile
Like a rascally rabbit
Talkin rain like Charlie Babbitt
Stuttering’s your best habit
Tear out your heart man I’ll stab it
Oops now your bleeding out
But your soulless words don’t shout
Your lips just quiver n pout
Man... I know what your about
Cause I’m the one you wanna be,
livin the dream and coppin cream
Yeah I’m the one they wanna see, they be givin it away for free
Look at you your a disgrace
Tears a runin down your face
Can’t keep up with my hectic pace
No I won’t show you no grace
Cause now I’m free flowin fast
Like I’ve had a wicked blast
And your junk is still half mast
Oh Man your moments past
Now this is kinda tricky
But your Calvin’s Kleins are sticky
Man I’m just takin the Micky
Out of your sweet little dicky
Cause I’m the one you wanna be,
livin the dream and copping cream
Yeah I’m the one they wanna see, they be givin it away for free
I can’t help but be like this
My arrows never gonna miss
And when you do throw out a diss
I’ll grin or smile and blow a kiss
Cause you can’t touch me dog
Girl on your arm looks like a hog
Girl on mine’s so hot theirs fog
Your starin speechless your agog
I got the paper, chicks and words
You can’t even find a use for verbs
I bet your smokin chockin on herbs
I’m clean n mean, mind undisturbed
Cause I’m the one you wanna be,
livin the dream and copping cream
Yeah I’m the one they wanna see, they be givin it away for free
I down poison and sleep for days
trying to take the heart ache away
I swallow rasorblades to take the headaches away
but nothing matters its always the same
what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger
liar liar pants on fire!!!!
Overdosed and dieing
survived it and now paying with liver damage and internal bleeding
The car crash of the drunk driver
how relaxing
nail biting aftermath
and another reason to go out and party
for the celebration
of the alcoholic
who just took the life of his best friend
I'm the victom
I'm the victom
I'm the victom he says
but low and behold the survivors in the other vehicle
stronger than ever
all crippled and in wheel chairs
know that
they should really thank the drunk driver and condemn
all the hippocrits who know nothing of survival
so here i am
wishing to be more strong
why bother to exercise
they surely have it all wrong
why pay attention to science any way
all those cliches can tell you about apples and sunshine
but we know what doesn't kill you makes you stronger
so i think I'll cut off my leg
go play in traffic
or fight the wars by doing too much drugs
the place inside the fire can tell you
what doesn't kill you will only make you strong
A second lease on life
a new found reason to get up and go
and find god and praise life
and all the things i should have done
and all the newfound glorious reasons to cry
why oh why oh why oh why
thank you lord thank you Jesus
thank you wars thank you liars thank you lies
thank you doctors thank you poets
thank you psychologists
thank you preachers for truly understanding an age old cliche
I'll peel off this apple to keep the doctor away throw out the core
and know
if it doesn't kill me
I'm probably just weak
and after all the rehabilitation and speach therapy i still don't feel like me
Why; Hello Colin good morning mate
Son, there is no accent in hands of fate
Throw out the tea and chug the beer
Then I bet you find a keg in ere
Everything is a riddle once it is spoke
The tag is from you to me and then some other folk
But who should I choose, I’m here to say
So many beautiful feathers float by my way
Once while I was taking a path from here to there
When I noticed beauty beyond compare
She made me smile and she made me think
Looking at her was like taking a drink
She made me feel good and forget all the rest
I reckon that is a true poets test
The only thing I really did know
What a wonderful beautiful soul
My only complaint of her poetry was the last line
For I was hoping to have just a little more time
Talk of someone who needs no adorning
She plays a huge role in the global warming
For she has a beauty that could melt Glacier Ice
I guess everything wants to see beauty so beautifully nice
So who is the beautiful Angel that I’m speaking of?
Tag Christie Moses your it my love
------------------------------------------------------
Colin if I failed I apologize my head feels like it is in a vice
this morning but I wanted to respond. I will keep this poem
and then on a better day I will write a reply to you also. I
feel better guys & gals 0r guy gals & gal guys - One just
never knows anymore. At any rate God Bless you all, mj
Sitting here with my loyal dog, Blue
From him I think I have a clue
It’s finally time to take ink and write
And tell you of my year long plight
I scratch my head and purse my lips
Throw out all my written scripts
“Dear sweetheart” seems just too much
For we have not become as such
But that is what my heart desires
As my words stumble over loves’ fires
Maybe I should just say hello
Then confess “I Love You” down below?
written: 10-11-2019
Realism Art Poetry Contest Photo #2
I live on a warpath of total destruct,
A ruinous track to nowhere,
Leaving me here, in a complete devastate,
Leaving me full of despair.
See, I throw out my life, I throw it away,
Leaving just a cup that is brown,
Leaving me free with my thoughts to remember,
My memories for me to put down,
From my mind on display, in a room that is blank,
Each flashback is now in full sight,
And I can relish all that I’ve ever done,
I can unwrap and reflect and then write,
Poems and verse, quatrains with a line,
About a woman who posed for my art,
And when my thoughts have all dried in ink,
All I’ll have is a slow beating heart.
After big waves come small swells
I saw something popping out there
Is it fish balls?
The sea is the home of the fish balls
You may be skeptical
and thinks ... a twisted and playful imagination
Do you believe that there are pearls in the sea?
Ask the goddess of the sea -
she has jewelry with oyster pearls
Everything is possible ...
Fish balls in white sauce ~
A classic that tastes very good
with boiled carrots and potatoes
Throw out the line, with a smile on your face
24/07/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Some poems are long and complex,
With imagery galore;
And some throw out ideas you think
You really should explore.
Some poems have gorgeous language,
Every adjective a gem;
But, if you haven’t guessed by now,
This isn’t one of them!
Ilene Bauer ~ March 22, 2014
Philosophical ~ for Short Poem Contest
I
Want
To
Commit
Suicide
Something we
never heard in the 60’s
When I was growing up
I
Want
To
Kill
Myself
Something I rarely heard
in the 70’s when I was
starting a family
I
Want
To
Commit
Suicide
Something that popped up
in the 80’s and 90’s on TV
but still, quite rare to hear.
I
Want
To
Kill
Myself
For some strange
Reason, said in
JEST during the 2000’s.
The
joke is on us
Only it is not a joke
Children are
saying it now
As easily as the grass is green
and the sky is blue today
It flows off their tongues
as casually as
Let’s get pizza for dinner
Parents
Please talk to
Your children
Elementary school age
children are beginning
to throw out these words
whenever they want their own way
Or
Things
Are
Going
Wrong
Once the brain hears it,
The brain believes it
That is why
I
Want
To
Kill
Myself
is
not casual
Not
at
All
Love is...
Happiness, for the couple just starting out., finally getting a feel for what love is all about. Not a care in the world as long as they have each other, thinking they'd be happy as long as they're together.
Love is..
Confusion, they don't know what's going on, they were once so happy but now they don't know what's wrong. The communication is failing, they seem so far apart, they are desperately trying to hold on to each others heart.
Love is...
Pain, because she just found out about the affair, wondering what she ever did wrong to make him not care. She cries herself to sleep and he drinks himself to sanity, nothing could heal the way they both are feeling.
Love is..
Desperation, he begs her to stay, promises her he'll change for her, she believes he'll change his ways. He spends every day trying to make up for what he did, but that trust he has broken can't easily be fixed.
Love is..
Anger, she can't trust him like she used to anymore. He gets mad when shes questions him so he just ignores. Both so angry and tired, they just want to give up, so that's what they do, they throw out their love.
Love is..
Fear and sadness, and tears and madness, they've made a mistake and they sure as hell know it. He wishes he could make things right and take back all the pain, she just wants him back in her arms, they're going insane. They could've worked it out, what they had was real, they both are wondering how the other must feel.
Love is...
Real, it'll always find a way back, he showed up at her house and she took him back, they know they've learned a lesson, and they know it'll make them stronger, and they know when they are together, this will make them hold each other longer.
The world out there so big they say.
The one inside grows smaller each day.
Where once stood the crowd I knew.
Empty space and a remaining few.
The dreams so grand, with limits none.
At my feet I find not one.
Where the endless expanse of days.
Spread before us like crashing waves.
Now a night that draws us nigh.
Time to sleep that gentle sigh.
So sweep up the memories, throw out the lies.
Hush now my friend your frightened cries.
It was so sweet all I tried.
So scatter me far and scatter me wide.
Its true, no man ever went so far.
Travel by foot, bike and clanging car.
The people, places and things I’ve known.
The joy, my children, to my heart have shown.
What man should lament his having to go?
For it merely be what we are born to do.
Ain't life a wonderment???
Hardness softens under serpents eyes of gold.
Concrete becomes her;
Crystallising lakes of,
Oceans of,
Serenity
What may we envelop with our softness
When our branches cannot reach the sky
For fear of an axeman’s careless wielding.
I will be hurt.
My iron will shatter into feathers, falling as crescent moons in a breeze,
Before I chance to dent you with
The knife edge of my tongue.
You believe in my horizon.
My sinking sunbeams throw out shades of golden reds and bloody orange.
The belly of the beast; illusion under seas that hath no space nor space constraint.
In my drowning sun you see a female devil,
Residing in her lair of fire.
You see her sleeping,
Beneath a stage of watery glass.
She is not retiring.
She is halving,
From the final throws of her fire,
That you drank like drops of sugar.
How much can you see?
A steely serpent drinking from versuvius in drunken sin.
When snakes wake from their poisoned mist
are they clear enough to see that their volcano-
Is a puddle from a broken tap,
Warm from the burning reflected in your gaze.
I feel myself drip like storm water,
Hiding under tarmac from the thunder.
Zealots are totally incapable of any emotion other than rage. It is an unalterable law that people who claim to care about the human race are utterly indifferent to the sufferings of individuals.
— Quentin Crisp
ZEALOTS
The raging machine, storms of zigzagging arrows, fueled by each word that bounces off the trampoline of their eardrums. A zealot sage, an oxymoronic knight, not a saint. Stained not with tears but billowing eyes and cheeks.
emotional wreck
concentrated on one theme
no deviation
The heave and the ho of heavy sacks. Teamwork in torrent. The zealot doesn’t stop to hear a prophet, except Simon. Simon will buzz in their ear about a diamond but the team has their eyes on the gold. With cold, strong hands, they sharpen their swords, meditating on the prize. They want to topsy-turvy, throw out the law, upturn the tables of dirty coins.
if one turned his head
a scene of perfect substance -
heals blind, deaf and dumb
Does the tyrant trump the zealot, or is power the point? Both explode. Not on their sides, you will be imprisoned or stomped out. Simple Simon was a zealot whose ears steared toward the Son of God.
Simon the Zealot
apostles known by their works
one’s tax collector
Zealots loose whilst hell’s hammer wills the fastening of cruel suffering. This innocent has the right approach to rid the world of tyrants though the chariots have not entered the course. The zealots would still be wielding their swords as the stone was kicked away in a powerful way.
Zealots have their way
the martyrs follow Christ’s way
Simon chose wisely