Best Tole Poems
Written: October 23, 2023
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In an expanse full of vibrant marvels, I roam.
A restless poet soul, aiming for a spot to call home.
Amid storms and destiny's unremitting draw.
I sustain to propel upward, my spirit strong flaw.
Stand shoulder close by with the towering trees.
I still sway, in sequence states of sublime sleaze.
Having both a zesty sanity and a nexus soul.
I am a lover of tales and contemporary tole.
At a wooden desk, wrapped with trepidation.
I reveal the enigmas unveiled in my orientation.
Salvaged from time, akin to riches of the past.
I dabble with words, trying to craft a story to last.
In frostbitten palms, emotions nestling deep,
I decry solace in the icy promises they keep.
Quenched by the whispers of wind and icy breath,
I let my thoughts wander, defying death.
Inside my mind, a world unfolds,
Where stories are told and destinies are bold.
With each word written, a new chapter unfurls
As the wanderer's tale takes flight and twirls.
Through wooden limbs and ancient lore,
I paint a canvas of emotions galore.
From the storms of passion to the calm of peace,
Every word I write, every line I release,
Carries the essence of my wandering soul,
A tapestry of longing, of life's intricate toll.
For in the words I weave, my spirit finds release,
And the wanderer's tale finds its eternal peace.
I traverse the oceans within a breeze
I light my way holding burning trees
Freeing my body, my heart, my soul
I talk and walk through miles and roads
I view the future with discernable need
Yet I succumb to my fate with noted heed
Do I lack the courage to go beyond my whole?
Do I feel the need to remain stagnant and tole?
I lack conviction in my sturdy brain
Trying to fight these excuses so lame
Solitary in my endeavours I so create
My weakness I continually berate
In my minds eye I spy this epic infused
In a twilight of colours I discover loosed
Yet I traverse the oceans within a breeze
And light my way holding burning trees . . .
Don’ wanna bee roun ewe noh moh.
Don’ wanna see da trajuhdee dats heded,
At yah doh.
Ewe wuz vary ahful tah mi,
God’s chile. Eye didden doyah nuttin.
’
Yah ‘sposed, tah bee ah liter rite?
Butt ya playin’ roun wit da won,
Whooz comin’ bak leyek ah,
Theef en dah nite.
Win yah ain’t treet mi rite,
Yah naglect’d dah powah uv God.
Cuz onlee wit Him ah wuz,
Ovalookin’ wat ewe wuz doin’,
Ta mi fah da harvest ,
Of God’s chirren bein’ edumacated,
Mi yah outrite hated.
Butt dats awrite God-n-eye,
Gon’ win dis feyght.
Ah wheel hav’ victuree cuz ah,
Choze ta spread luv butt ewe,
Choze ta spread mizuhree.
Don’ wanna bee roun ewe noh moh.
Don’ wanna see da trajuhdee dats heded,
At yah doh.
Ewe ramyned mi uv ol’Pharoah,
Hoo woodn’t lett God’s pipahs goh.
Ah didden wanna fase yah awl dose
Otha daze.
Butt God help’d mi leyek God help’d,
Moses speek up tah ol’Pharoah.
God tole Moses tah lett mah pipahs goh.
God telling mi ta tale yah phake Pharoah
Tah lett mi chirren’s goh.
Ah noh ah hatta bee roun ewe sum moh.
Butt itell bee worfwile,
Cuz God wantz freedom,
Fah ebbery chile.
Yah hut mi fah alil wile,
Butt we’ll bee at da prahmased lan’,
An out uv yah Egypt.
Cuz fah awl uv uz ta prospa,
Iz God’s plan.
Ansoon we won’ be roun ewe no moh.
Wheel nat laugh leyek yah didaht mi.
Win trajudee nocks aht yah doh.
Wheel helpyah cuz God,
Wantz uz awl tah bee free.
Frum dah phake phone’ powah,
Uv da enumee.
wrote 6-27-10
It's been broke to the core
Like so many times before
Why does this happen to me?
Hopeful, Stong I try to be
Yet my heart still does bleed
Love is all you need,
Is what the song writes
But still to many fights
Fights inside my sole
To understand why there is such a hole
Fights within myself
Because my hopes are on the shelf
I used to believe in love someday
But now thats all been thrown away
I only believe what they tell me I am
And not anymore do I give a damn
Love above all, is what I believed
But even that has been thieved
I don't know when my heart will find
A peace between my sole and mind
Someday hopefully soon
With the graces of the sun and moon
My heart, my mind, my body and my sole
Can end this life threatening tole
When night came, the cattle bedded down
And the night riders making their rounds
Samuel would take a strole to the chuck wagon
And Cookie would hand him his cup of coffee
As he savored it's taste
He'd check with Cookie to see
If his supplies were holding out
Then find ol' Jack crawl aboard and make another round
The nights of stary bliss
Or winds a blowin strong
The drovers were right there
To keep things from going wrong
The rivers they did cross,
Sometimes took their tole
Little Zeke was lucky to be on hand
He threw Luke a lasso and drug him to dry land
Some cattle were lost
Due to the heat
Some they had to nurse maid
If they got snake bit
The prairie dog towns were dangerous grounds
For horses, cattle or cowboys
Their holes were the cause of many a fall
With broken legs you can't ride a saddle
Nights in the bedroll
Days in the saddle
Day after day
They trailed the cattle
The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".
Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.
Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.
Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe
The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon
Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild
With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather
Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.
Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"
Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.
"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.
Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".
Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"
On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
Notta easy grasper – days back I cross ole Jasper
neath the olden ground’s crooket pine tree
and, oh, bless be, things he tole there to me!
He wanna’d me to hear all bout watz truth –
he say he’s hillbilly like you and me - says it, he do,
but, he say, da world changed cause fueds
bout hippycokecaine comin roun’ waz fuel.
Jasper members days bein’ rough n crude tough
onaccounta cokecaine bein’ ‘round, bein’ used.
Soon to long, Jasper say, powder sniffers
waz denied their share a da hillbillie clan dinner –
given nothin a’tall, not bread, nope, not any food.
Soon, seems the brood just came to be unglued.
Moonshine badmouthers called sniffers, “thinners.”
Stillers was fierce sure ‘thinners’ was bad news,
stillers was sure they’d get all hillbillies screwed,
so they upt their stills, said bye-bye and shooed.
They never come back, an as a matta a fact
theys the ones we waz raised up callin bibillies.
Say Jasper all got worse, never a bit unscrewed -
next hillbillies made da cokecaine addacts move.
They never come back, and as anotter matta a fact
theys the ones we waz raised up callin blowbillies.
That waz all Jasper got about sayin’ to me afore he
took to sniffin salt in his hand to then quick look up da tree,
over and over, Jasper did, it was a right peculiar thing to see.
... CayCay Jennings
May 4, 2018
The silent screams of a woman in pain,
the death tole climbs as she rattles her chains.
Tears fall down like ashes on snow,
She weeps only now because she is alone.
What started out as perfect spring,
Has turned to be the most horrid of things.
When first they met it seemed ordained,
But when all done there is only pain.
Tube Ambition
I wanna be one under,
I bin' thinkin' it's the safest bet;
I haven't the skill to get any thrill,
From being on this planet.
Yea, I done tole me Ma,
She said "yor jes like yor Da";
"He went an don it and how
We slum it, go on, leave me now."
I wanna be one under,
Famous, y'know, for a while;
Can see me photo, in the Metro,
So I'll try to keep on a smile.
Yeah, don' say I'm not ambitious,
I may be on the dole;
But I can get in them history books,
By bein' in a hole.
I wanna be one under,
I tole my friends the same;
But now the blasted tube's on strike,
My plans are done today.
Yeah, I used to be a no-gooder,
But now I found what I like;
I'm cyclin' through the streets of London,
Thank crikey for Boris's bike !
I don' wanna be one under,
What, me, I'm under progression;
I've seen the worst, now time for best,
Forget the bloody recession.
Bait ready, line in the water,
it is in the waiting that taught her...
its all in the way you put out the tease,
chumming the water for fishing the seas...
as the schools begin to near
easy meals entice the absense of fear...
slowly and smoothly reel in the line,
you have their attention, they're ready to dine...
May I catch a moment of your time?
Having it makes me feel real and sublime...
give me your interests, and I'll give you a piece,
in this little game of catch and release....
the pain of hunger is taking its tole,
instinct draws you in close as I pull at the pole
you nibble the bait approaching the hook
but here little bites bring on a second look
Ah, the pole bounces and the fisherman smiles,
it all goes to show and its been a while...
then the pole bends and now its time to pull in
the awaited moment thats about to begin...
May I catch a moment of your time?
Having it makes me feel real and sublime...
give me your interests, and I'll give you a piece,
in this little game of catch and release....
Since you were lured
I pull you a board
and measure you....
measure your growth,
but just rest assured,
you are adored...
I kiss you on the lip
as you flounder and flip
in my grip...
I only mean to help, I only mean to give,
return you to water so that you may live....
See, I got to hold you and you got to eat,
I played you and we got to meet....
Life the abattoir of emotions,
create the corps that is the heart.
What donnybrook takes the tole?
Empathy, the vicarious plight,
direct the cruel incorrigible start.
The Thief
Sweet,sweet spirit
nectar of the gods, I suckle
at the teat of your promises.
You have cast your spell;
an end to pain, escape from hell.
Alas, you are a false prophet
you've exacted your tole
by destroying the temple
and stealing my soul.
There is a little town where once they mined for gold.
now it's just a tourist place, where stories are retold.
Like the one about the miners, who where both on their death bed.
Well, one he bet the other he'd out live this friend call Fred.
As the clock stuck midnight, poor old Ed he passed away,
And his old miner friend he lived another day.
Now both these two old fellas lay up on old boot hill,
And the story it lives on, and we hear it ever still.
Now as you walk the pathways that the miners use to tread,
You see the lovely forget me knots, And hear the voices of the dead.
You hear them whisper gentle,though the needles of the pine,
as they walk and talk together about another time.
Yes, they walk and talk together about the days of long ago,
and you wish that you'd been with them, so your story too, could be tole.
Give to me sweet gentle mist.
Thoughts complete my world turbot.
Of peace whisper peer cool fist
their voices music cords cane doe.
Unspoiled world pound stepsister.
To the children who spoiler
the most where ditch prankster.
And death elope they oilier
in the graveside bolier.
Wickedness poignant thoughts pomp
over magical tole.
Ride to hide in apses pomp
billow clouds angels clutch coal.
On fear diversification
inevitability
aulthood precipitation
beauts comparability.
Most Children of war are the objects of pranks and hatred of men. The beauty of {beauts}
life is to grow well, safe, and strong but for war torn countries this is not the case.
You came into my life, before I was born.
How could I know, our relationship was to be forlorn?
I knew in my heart, I should just walk away.
Time I was thirteen, you were here to stay.
I thought it was cool, never going by all the rules.
I was the hippest, never no ones fool.
You were with me everywhere I would go.
New friends, you would get to know.
Dad was in the Service, often we would move.
Long as I had you, I could find a "New Groove".
You went with me everywhere that I went.
Dad, died on his Birthday, he was fifty-one and Heaven sent.
I made a promise to him, one I never kept.
I should have listened, but now I regret.
Mom died young, not even a year later, from secondhand smoke.
I thought at the time, that had to be a joke.
I now have C. O. P. D., I do not want the people to see...
Me, stuck on an oxygen machine, with a forty foot hose.
Thinking how bad the Tobacco Companies and smoking,
really have got to go!
Comments: C.O.P.D. is Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease)
This is a revised version of a poem I wrote a few years ago. I guess with this
I want to get across how Smoking takes it's tole on families. This is my true story, I hope
some can see what it does and can stop the madness. Judy