Best Tonka Poems
I was walking through the city streets
When I passed a foursome gang
Who were playing with a Tonka truck
And an old raggedy doll that sang
She sang about her unhappiness
Because her reddened eyes were crossed
And she sang about her loneliness
Because the raggedy dolls been lost
The foursome tried to cheer her up
By dressing her up all in pink
Then when they tried to dry her lashes
Her eyes began to blink
The gang of four were children, you see
All about the age of five
They thought that if they fixed her up
That she might come alive
The only little girl in the bunch
Well, she knew just what to do
She cleaned her up and painted her nails
So that she looked pretty and new
The doll now sang of happiness
Because she felt all fit and sound
And she sang of not being lonely no more
Now that finally she's been found
Categories:
tonka, children, happiness, loneliness,
Form:
Rhyme
Under my 8 year old brothers bed
lies my dog chewed Barbie, no sign of her head
a faded Snoopy cartoon, deflated yellow Birthday balloon
and one stuffed zoo animal baboon
Romote toy car from Uncle Tom
Cassette of Raffi, sing-a-long songs
half a fruit roll-up, and a beat up
tonka truck
A wooden dream catcher, made in Summer camp
his moon and star shaped night lamp
one lonely brown button from his Winter coat
A crumpled crayon castle drawing, complete with
an alligator filled moat
A real rabbits foot, for luck, from Grandpa Mack
half a fourth of July sparkler, old fashioned box of jacks
glass jelly jars of grass, sticks, leaves, assorted bugs
science fair worm farm living in moms old Garden jug
Under my 8 year old brothers bed
it has to be said, if you find yourself lost
beneath it
you are as good
as dead!
Categories:
tonka, brother, childhood, family, children,
Form:
I’d made a tower, a wooden block tower that reached toward the sky
And on the roof stood my superman toy, I believed he wanted to fly.
He stood beside a Tonka truck that was parked safely in a truck stop.
It was an amazing build this tower of mine where all was on the roof top.
It was big, strong, the foundations were solid, it had a good grip on the ground,
And the architecture was a quaint design, and the engineering was oddly sound.
But then my young sister, let’s call her Godzilla, walked into the city of creation,
And with a whoosh of her hands she wiped it out leaving utter complete devastation.
Superman flew across the room, landing in the fish tank, quickly sinking into the pond.
The Tonka truck landed on our pet dog, who flew through the door, outside and beyond.
So I stood up, being the Giant of Good, and challenged Godzilla to a duel in our fable.
But then we stopped, had to leave the scene, mum called out, food was on the table.
I will return to this scene and rebuild my tower, make it bigger, better, robust.
And when Godzilla comes in I’ll give her a job, to cover it in her magical fairy dust.
Categories:
tonka, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Couplet
A Straight Guy in a Gay Tie
Some Men want to be Girlies,
Some Girls want to be Boys,
Some Guys like to play Barbie’s,
Some Ladies like Tonka Toys.
Genes get a bit muddled up,
It happens, It’s all in the brew.
Genetic codes keep us guessing,
When one is created by two.
Now, I like to think I’m a Man’s Man,
My Wife is all Woman, not a Guy.
An easy-going chap with no hang ups,
A Straight Man who wears a Gay Tie.
Categories:
tonka, boy, for her, for
Form:
Rhyme
Matchbox and Hot Wheels
I played with both as a child
then came Tonka Trucks
Categories:
tonka, childhood, boy,
Form:
Haiku
A Grandmother's Wisdom
All that my parents left me
could fit into a paper sack
carried like a leaden weight
strung across my broken back
A pair of bronzed booties
a jacket and Tonka truck
a small photo of Grandma
along with a note of "Good Luck"
I was left with confusion
and an old coloring book
but "stay within the lines son"
was the only wisdom that I took
As the years went by in
the most sullen of ways
I would often remember back
to those bitter childhood days
But now when I pine or
look behind to my past
the paper sack all torn
the note to brittle to last
The jacket's too small and
the truck's all broken down
the coloring book's all done
the only crayon left is brown
I no longer wonder why
I was left out in the cold
it doesn't matter anymore
at least I wasn't sold
I was raised by my Grandma
and she taught me this one thing
'The next time you leave home,
at least you'll know what to bring"
(Feb. 24, 2016)
Categories:
tonka, childhood, growing up, life,
Form:
Rhyme
What I Have Seen
Chubby fingers, chubby toes;
Clear blue eyes and turned up nose.
Everything's so bright and new,
Little Baby I love you.
Hop scotch, Barbies, long brown curls,
We thank you God for little girls.
Baseball diamonds, lots of toys;
Tonka trucks for little boys.
School days, Proms, and lots of friends.
Soon the boys are full grown men.
Girls go shopping, Brides Boutique.
Because of promises we keep.
Life rolls on an unending line;
Quickly toll the bells of time.
The Soldier who must find his way;
Was just a baby Yesterday.
I've watched it roll as here I roam.
On my peculiar Journey home.
Somehow it all fits in God's plan;
This is our life, the lot of man.
Categories:
tonka, age, birth, boy, child,
Form:
Couplet
(to be read out loud)
I'll eat the nibble naggle nooky nickel
nipple nappy mum mum mum
I'll chew your gooble gobble giggle gaggle
gimpy grampa's gum gum gum.
I'll call the wimpy wappy wiggle waggle
wacky wobble wum wum wum
I'll drink the wiggin' wimple whoopy whacker
wookie worker's rum rum rum.
Woo wow wee wah
Geegaw mee mah
Hee haw hoo har hey hey hey.
Mao moo mud muck
Wigwam poobah
Mad mook mick mack yay yay yay.
I'll have a murky muddle maple maggot
monkey marbles chum chum chum
I raised a ticky tacky tinky tonka
tailor's tiny thumb thumb thumb.
I'm really punky pickled pooka puckers
pitter patter dumb dumb dumb
I hear my diggle daggle doggy dingle
diddle daddled hum hum hum.
Categories:
tonka, humor, imagination, nonsense, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
Baby, You're not mine
I'm not giving you the time
I'm too busy
writing my lines
in sweetness sublime
Baby, Get away
I don't want to play
With
Your sandbox of toys
Your mommy took away
I'll drive my Tonka truck
All over your face
To release you games
Don't you cry
at me in shame
I'll make you eat dirt
written
all over your face
Don't even think of
playing emotional trains
You'll get a reward
when my Tonka is floored
You will think twice
before I play nice
Damn,
Your not my type
I think of you
like lice
Scratching my head
with evil intent
Just go away
I don't want to play
I have my own toys
Being a tomboy
My Tonkas are rockin
yours, are sweet nothing
Let's give them away
and play another day
Categories:
tonka, character, child, imagery, loneliness,
Form:
Free verse
We're nearing the end of another year
But this one feels different than before
As we mourn our heroines and hero's
Hearts of family and friends are sore
There's Eddy, Pete and Peter Green
They're guitarists in their own way
Lost to the Great Gig in the Sky
Amidst those twenty twenty days
Barbara Martin, Reddy and Tonka
Whom have played to many a crowd
Caressing our ears with their talents
Whether guitaring, or voiced out-loud
Heavens Gate where the Gig is staged
Where Neal and Lee continue their beats
Enjoy life until you're here, engaged!
It's where everyone will have a seat
Categories:
tonka, deep, giving, guitar, heaven,
Form:
Rhyme
these are the words of a seeker of light
a believer in the knowledge of old
through our fathers we reach a new height
from their lives, and the stories they've told
we must never forget, or sunder the ties
that binds us all to our past
for that is where our virtue lies
honoring them, our Nations will last
the river is calling out to be free
and the sky, is where it's spirit will fly
now, i hear the gentle voice of the tree
gathering the winds, as they go by
the fish in the river frolic with the bait
as our men on the bank strive to catch some
they seldom see them, yet still they wait
landing a few, whose time has come
the dog is silent, and watching for now
the beaver is home dry, and resting
we could be as free, if we knew how
to ride lifes wave to its' cresting
there are birds on the water, and some overhead
they float, or soar, with the ease of belonging
each content to live where God has led
feeling no sense of lacking, or longing
deer come down to the shallows to drink
then return, to lay again in the shade
they have no reason for fear, they think
knowing somehow, our meals are all made
i look to my poeple, and see reflections of me
listen to the shouts, of the children at their game
i am at peace, and the spirits agree
this land and our TREASURE, are one and the same
we've cars now, and jobs for the taking
and fierce pride in anscestors long gone
ours is a "new" life, of our own making
and our Fathers are still with us, as we go on
living this life that we love
with peace, and harmony in the sharing
looking always to God above
for He is "Creator", alive, and still caring
as long as our Mother, this land, is still somewhere
and Wakan Tonka (?) lives in my heart
then where i am, He is there
nobility, honor, pow'r and love cannot part
all this concrete, these people, so different from me
that surrounds, and closes off my horizons
all the baubles, light, shadows, trinkets, and wares that i see
can't seperate me from the Wise Ones
they are only proof that i'm free
and i can still go home
Categories:
tonka, epicgod, god, river,
Form:
Prose Poetry
these are the words of a seeker of light
a believer in the knowledge of old
through our fathers we reach a new height
from their lives, and the stories they've told
we must never forget, or sunder the ties
that binds us all to our past
for that is where our virtue lies
honoring them, our Nations will last
the river is calling out to be free
and the sky, is where it's spirit will fly
now, i hear the gentle voice of the tree
gathering the winds, as they go by
the fish in the river frolic with the bait
as our men on the bank strive to catch some
they seldom see them, yet still they wait
landing a few, whose time has come
the dog is silent, and watching for now
the beaver is home dry, and resting
we could be as free, if we knew how
to ride lifes wave to its' cresting
there are birds on the water, and some overhead
they float, or soar, with the ease of belonging
each content to live where God has led
feeling no sense of lacking, or longing
deer come down to the shallows to drink
then return, to lay again in the shade
they have no reason for fear, they think
knowing somehow, our meals are all made
i look to my poeple, and see reflections of me
listen to the shouts, of the children at their game
i am at peace, and the spirits agree
this land and our TREASURE, are one and the same
we've cars now, and jobs for the taking
and fierce pride in anscestors long gone
ours is a "new" life, of our own making
and our Fathers are still with us, as we go on
living this life that we love
with peace, and harmony in the sharing
looking always to God above
for He is "Creator", alive, and still caring
as long as our Mother, this land, is still somewhere
and Wakan Tonka (?) lives in my heart
then where i am, He is there
nobility, honor, pow'r and love cannot part
all this concrete, these people, so different from me
that surrounds, and closes off my horizons
all the baubles, light, shadows, trinkets, and wares that i see
can't seperate me from the Wise Ones
they are only proof that i'm free
and i can still go home
Categories:
tonka, philosophygod, god, river,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Going ‘round about, up and down,
Always crawling out of bounds,
Big brown eyes, tiny pink feet,
Great big smiles, without any teeth.
Giggles and grins rule his day,
Play with me mommy his face seems to say.
My joy, my dreams; bouncing on my knee,
I thank the Lord daily for His gift to me.
A gift so small, so precious and sweet,
A son of my own to raise and to teach.
Crawling at five, walking at nine,
Each month flies by, as does the time.
Learning quickly, he passes my expectations,
I am soon exhausted; he is my recreation.
Kindergarten and middle school, they fly by too fast,
Legos and Tonka trucks become toys of his past.
Taller than me now and soon on his own way,
Video games and computers are his choices for the day.
I realize soon he will depart; fond memories
and sadness fill my heart,
Dreams of his own lead him on his way.
Keep him safe Lord. Daily I pray.
Categories:
tonka, change, child, christian, mother
Form:
Free verse
This poem was written on May 3, 2022,
When I heard the alerts for the next few days.
From 4-6 May 2022, 8-10 Tornadoes,
Hit Oklahoma, Texas and Kansas.
There's the siren that sounds,
That sends fear thru our veins and,
Has us running to hide and cover.
We watch the skies and listen to the TV,
For these falling funnel clouds,
That throw massive buildings and cars,
Like they're tonka trucks and Lego's.
They can level a town like Moore, Oklahoma.
Once in 1999,
Then again in 2013,
Both F-5's , being the most violent.
Yes Oklahoma is Tornado Alley,
But it's no joke.
We don't sit in our front yard,
Waiting for tornadoes,
If we did they would end of life.
We protect life and limb because,
These monsters are unpredictable and evil.
The only thing you wanna do is,
Run, cover and hide and pray,
You make it thru the night.
Categories:
tonka, anxiety, death, environment, heartbroken,
Form:
Free verse
The windows pane upon my face,
The door unlocks, I fall from grace.
My friend he screams, a crunch of steel,
Stabs of pain, then the blood I feel.
The car we stole, a ride of joy,
Treating it like a tonka toy.
Speeding 'round the Mumbles mile,
Off our heads for a little while.
Pass the chippy, towards the pier,
We hear the sirens, "The cops are near".
Faster, faster, we approach the bend,
This so called "joy" is about to end.
Headlights shine from the road ahead,
Then when I wake, my mates are dead.
Broken limbs, a mangled wreck,
The sense of warmth from my swollen neck.
I try to move off the cold damp floor,
My legs and arms I feel no more.
The scents of fuel, blood and smoke,
I try to breathe, but can only choke.
I hear a voice coming close to me,
I tried to look, but could not see.
These words I tell about this night,
From a darkened world, now I have no sight.....
I was asked to write a piece about the crime of so called "joy riding"
Categories:
tonka, death, family, fear, life,
Form:
Verse