Best Touts Poems
Life's like a poorly penned poem,
punctuated by emotions.
And lacking in substance and weight:
it feels abstract and mystical.
Influencing the heart and soul:
love touts its own philosophy,
And postulates its existence
as extensions of shared feelings.
At times, life can be frustrating,
while sometimes, it's enlightening.
Yet, meaningful interaction
is always its overall theme.
Hope imbues life with rhyme and rhythm,
encouraging feats of magic.
And reveals the reality,
fueled by thoughts of fantasy.
Curiosity motivates,
always leaving you wanting more.
And trust fades to an illusion,
conjured to appease scripted tears.
Categories:
touts, emotions, feelings, hurt, love,
Form:
Blank verse
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!
The English, Locals and Arabs!
Jews, Africans and Chinese!
Gather to the aroma of the herbs,
And to relish the Indian Cuisine!
Vending stalls have lined the route,
As the natives and tourists wander in,
Flanked by cycles, bikes and touts,
Amidst the music and the din.
This mela of colours and clothing,
Will make a rainbow look white,
travellers in town need updating,
And wear colours that are bright!
It is dusk, and it is getting dark,
the street lights are coming on,
Be warned of strangers in the park!
Hide your wallet, or they will be gone!
Watch the trash, the puddles at feet,
And the stray dogs at your shin,
At every shop a smiling greet,
“Try our food! Please step in!”
Unique, unique is this ensemble,
On the streets of sweet Mumbai,
Where petty human irks crumble,
In the stream of gastronomic joy!
See the Mexican laugh with the Texan,
Over the Goan seafood platter,
Even the Arab and Jew have taken,
A place at the table together!
The leaders at the United Nations,
Who have failed to make a deal,
Must learn from this congregation,
How problems are solved at a meal!
UN policies, treaties at the table,
Have had no effect on peace,
But sandy Juhu is ever so stable,
For people eat and mix with ease!
Let these vendors in Mumbai, Juhu,
Take the lead in creating the peace,
Let their Chai make you go Yoohoo,
And hatred in the world will cease!!
On the streets of lively Mumbai,
Close to the sandy Juhu,
They serve Chaat and Masala Chai,
To make your heart go Yoohooo!!
Categories:
touts, arabic, beach, color, feelings,
Form:
Ballad
Durin' my nearly four-score years I've had many a grand repast,
But there's one delicacy that will never, ever be surpassed!
There ain't nothin' like a huge helpin' of luscious fried chicken!
Ah, just thinkin' about it makes my pulse begin to quicken!
Mom was an expert at preparin' a bird for the old iron fryin' pan.
The hapless fowl was beheaded and plucked in the shortest span,
Cut up, seasoned and fried before you could count to ten,
Leavin' the old rooster crowin' in bewilderment sans one hen!
The preacher made his periodic visits for dinner at our house.
Mom's admonition to us kids beforehand always made me grouse.
Sayin', "Let the preacher help himself to the choicest parts!"
So we kids usually ended up with the necks, gizzards and hearts!
If I was asked to plan a dinner menu, here's what it would be:
Heaps of fried chicken, mashed pertaters, gravy and iced tea,
Sourdough biscuits, garden fresh carrots and sweet spring peas,
And for dessert a huge slab of cherry pie ala mode, if you please!
Nowadays the Colonel touts chicken from San Diego to Nantucket,
With all the fixin's in a box, bag or a handy two-gallon bucket,
Spicy or original and fried in lots of grease to a crispy, golden brown,
But I prefer my spouse's southern fried 'cause it's the best in town!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
touts, food, funny, old, old,
Form:
Rhyme
On freezing days, I turn to fleece
To wear beneath my down;
And wool or corduroy might work
When traipsing through the town.
But there’s an oft-forgotten cloth
That also can perform
By keeping those who use it,
Day or nighttime, snug and warm.
Yes, flannel is of what I speak;
It’s great for shirts and sheets,
Yet no one touts its virtues –
Not in odes or texts or tweets.
So let me be the first to write
Of flannel’s cozy charms.
It’s comfortable enveloping
Or underneath my arms.
If winter were a TV show,
We’d likely change the channel;
But since we’re stuck with it for now,
To help us, we’ve got flannel!
Categories:
touts, clothes, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
The nation is very rich indeed
But,
Wounded out of loss direction;
Wounded out of lack of ambition,
Weeping out of lack of impulse;
Wounded out of lack of imagination,
Ingeniously exhumed out of the citadel of corruption;
While the funereal ultimately boils down to collateral.
In the funky train,
All the hoo-ha-noisy end in fisticuff;
And the crumpled greenback hand-out cough,
The law has nothing to handcuff,
Kindred turned puppets loss of self-worth in defacto state
of war,
Faced with hemorrhaging despondency;
And splitting migraine disillusionment,
Miseenscene always greeted with fire and blood,
With fight and struggle half dead;
To trip in goats, straw and timber carrier,
Inevitable suicide spoof of teeming commuters,
And a caterwauling exodus end in thousands of legs under
the sea,
Carnival of Sharks tongue-smacked and praise-devour the
abundant feast;
While the aura of authority has little or nothing fish,
Often, sudden delight death cry of assailed victims,
Owa! Owa! Owa! {Alight}
A cry for shanty shambles bus stop,
As if deaf, the tyrant conductor
Lashes out in blinding curse and abuse;
Pressing and shoving for umpteenth fares,
Owa! Owa! Owa!
A plead for just a measure of tonic air,
Hard kerchief to wipe off addicted
Face of invincible gossamer,
Diabolical gene galloping in strides;
As compassion flees from rigours of heart of stone,
If swearing non-syllabic stunned altercating joust;
Could result in re-ordering of the lost world,
Plotless plastic lives of mean children of absentee Mamas
and Papas,
Would gauche braggadocio even king to brutal submission;
O! wretched loud louts touts,
Very loud louts touts foaming with tactless forming;
A riposte, may your road be rough,
A stamp on every man destiny.
Categories:
touts, urbanloss, cry, loss,
Form:
Free verse
The States are a total mess
and crumbling under the stress.
Trump has nuclear access,
yet he attacks the free press.
Turning his back on progress,
he touts the value of coal.
And crumbling under the stress,
the President sold his soul.
When Trump chose heroes to mock,
the country slipped into shock.
Now democrats vote to block,
and congress is in gridlock.
Republicans are all talk
and can't pass a healthcare bill.
The country slipped into shock
this; wasn't the people's will.
Alternative truths confuse,
reality's now fake news.
And many quite simply choose
to ignore facts that accuse.
Now, a man with a short fuse;
commands the military.
When reality's fake news,
it can be very scary.
(Rhyme)
11/10/2017
Categories:
touts, america, angst, anxiety, confusion,
Form:
Rhyme
No, It was not my time
to jaunt & jump about
the Morld with You, to
glowering-green-glows
of Ischia, the privileges
of Mackinac, "...our Paris, Ilsa!"...
Ornamented ataud &
calefacted incinerators are
merely better-funded!, to a last-
notice of proteaned hoar, the
dearth of silk...
So, it was to be
Goa, or Delhi "curry-in-a-hurry" not,
and the touts & shouts
as We passed...
You in those shoes,
toeing-up with heel asway
like a silent, ticking-pendulum,
Me, watching...
Allowing sole specialnesses, but a few
to my inti-mated Life,
why there was You insinuate...
E'er Yours-sporadic, tho'
an extravagance of Soul!, like
incipient Sinatra, or
the piano of Jarrett! But,
No, it was not your time
to jump & jaunt-about
with Me, but for You,
like a junkie afeared of needles,
to be going, & mine
to Write... of It, plecking-off
the pilpuls from
My blanket, & You to
replacing contoured batteries
and
for Now... perhaps as recent
as tomorrows' accident.
H.e.m.
c.5.10.MMvii.
Categories:
touts, introspection, life, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
At the break of Dawn, She poses in place;
a rising sun tints ivory clouds pink.
And my artistic hand begins to race;
sketching her beauty with charcoal and ink.
Ebony outlines mesmerizing eyes;
as if She stepped from a fantasy dream.
And as cotton-candy clouds tint the skies;
golden shafts of light make her aura gleam.
Though her face is featureless as white smoke,
silk ribbons adorn this porcelain doll.
And imbuing elegance with each stroke,
my muse is inspired to capture it all.
My Japanese Geisha touts perfection;
nothing about her invites correction.
Categories:
touts, art, beautiful, color, imagery,
Form:
Sonnet
I've traversed Kansas more times than I care to remember,
In the searin' heat of August and the chilly cold of December.
I suppose the Kansas Tourism folks would disagree with me,
But bless my soul - there just ain't all that much to see!
The roads stretch interminably - towns are few and far between.
To stay alert I slurp numerous cups of rancid, vile caffeine.
There ain't nothin' but nothin' along the monotonous route.
Will this agony ever end? The pointless question is moot!
Crestin' a rare hill and stretchin' ahead arrow straight,
Are endless miles and miles of shimmerin' interstate.
I even welcome my spouse's idle prattle to keep me alert,
As eighteen-wheelers and the road crews I try to avert!
There's lots of sunflowers but a definite paucity of trees.
Praise be for air conditionin' - outside 'tis ninety-nine degrees!
I do spot some cows, goats, sheep and Poland China hogs,
And a sign touts a place to see rattlesnakes and prairie dogs!
We whiz past places like Russell, WaKeeney and Kanorado.
At last we cross the line to my colorful state of Colorado!
I'm sure Kansas ain't all desolation - that I would not imply,
But next time we have occasion to head east, I think we'll fly!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
touts, funny, travel
Form:
Rhyme
Acid Test
Each step of mine for me is an acid test
One step I take forward they come and ask my caste
Two steps backward I run
And reach to the skirt of a beautiful village
With all the curiosities in their eyes men and women
Like a platoon of army they surround me
And inquire the sect along with my religion
Disheartened I walk
And unintentionally cross into a district
There I meet on a down town street
A wave of crowd, a pack of wolves
A gang of touts and a hive of bees
Before I take my breath in
I am grilled and asked quite fast the place of my origin
Bitterly I tell them what sweet sound holds my real name
They suspect and I have no doubt
The colour of my eye balls gives them goose bums
So I quietly tell them the root of my clan
They appear and I see clearly
The hint they give is clear that they are not glad
Disgusted I feel and before I decide to move
I yell I shout
And tell you to tell them
I am also from the same race of you, man!
Categories:
touts, race, racism,
Form:
Free verse
'Tis said that God loves all His creatures great and small.
Here are just a few of them - I can't begin to name them all!
He loves us one and all the whole world wide from A to Z!
His steadfast love is extended to all including a sinner like me!
God loves atheists, alcoholics, bootleggers, bums and Baptists -
Bailiffs, Catholics, conservatives, coopers and capitalists -
Doctors, dentists, democrats, extortionists and Eskimos -
Farmers, fishermen, golfers, generals and hypochondros!
He loves harlots, hypocrites, infidels, judges and jackasses -
Kings, kooks, lawyers, Lutherans, liberals and lasses -
Marines, Methodists, nerds, nurses, oracles and optometrists -
Presbyterians, politicians, poets, pilots and proctologists!
God loves Quakers, quacks, riveters, radicals and ragmen -
Republicans, rednecks, ranchers, reporters and raftsmen -
Sailors, Santa, scholars, scientists, sinners and scouts -
Thieves, tithers, teachers, taxmen, tradesmen and touts!
He loves unbelievers, veterans, villains and ventriloquists -
Widows, xenophobes, Yankees, yuppies and zoologists!
With so many folks to cherish, oft I wonder how it could be,
That He takes the time to love poor insignificant me!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
touts, funnylove, , atheist,
Form:
Rhyme
A warrior by nature as summer grew in sultry heat,
I sweated with desire to count coup on the first foe I beat,
Swear by my breech clout I would grapple in hand to hand assault,
Toss and turn this Ute in mortal combat before I halt;
Or steal his associate to my ultra joy and his dread,
Add another feather to my cap seeking it shows red,
Along the Tipi fire I see a shadow stir the soup,
Keenly attempt to pull off a red color feather coup;
Enter slyly to put my first feather to the systole,
In the confounded move I flounder to breath down her taught mole,
Duel precipitates in raw battle weary raptures,
Surrenders to roll within my bison hide captures;
Victorious I swell with sensuous pride and forget to scout,
No witness on sight says the chieftain with power he flouts,
Cheats as he sequesters her away from me in his clout
I am left with out my prize and the red feather he touts.
Categories:
touts, native americanred,
Form:
Free verse
I suppose the prez is proud of his mealy-mouthed spokesman Carney.
('Carnies' are carnival touts famous for spewing a heap of blarney!)
I think I'm quite well-versed and understand the English language well
But when I hear his party-line spin on things, I get perturbed as hell!
Carney keeps spouting "No worries! Obamacare will not change a thing!"
That's lingo I comprehend, but, alas, that to which many gullible patsies cling!
Not surprising, it turns out to be piffle, fiddle-faddle and downright balderdash!
Alas, many folks are seeing sticker shock and their insurance coverage crash!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Categories:
touts, humorous, political,
Form:
Couplet
A nation proclaiming democracy
touts equality and freedom for all.
And with a naive belief in justice,
brave young soldiers proudly answer its call.
Internal conflicts and world opinion
raise matters of morality and soul.
For innocent lives are bartered for oil
in a costly war, with a deadly toll.
Immersed in a storm of raw emotions,
east versus west in a fight to the death.
And as the daily drudgery of war
wears you down, you learn to value each breath.
Killing is murder; yet war breaks the rules,
it's sanctioned by law, but does God concur?
For although both sides ask for His blessing,
it is the Devil's counsel they prefer.
Injecting faith into the scheme of things,
we vehemently pray for wars to cease.
And yet, justify death with comfort words,
like duty, patriotism, and world peace.
(Quatrain)
4/7/2017
Categories:
touts, anger, angst, conflict, death,
Form:
Quatrain
President Trump is well versed in the art
of exaggeration
and procrastination.
He constantly breaks campaign promises
despite obligations
and or demonstrations.
Always begging His financial friends for
generous donations
for favorite foundations.
He brazenly touts alternative truths
luring congregations
feeding aspirations.
He’s transformed lying to a form of art
declared declarations
spurring confrontations.
His juvenile vindictive tweets effect
market fluctuations
and global relations.
Because angry Americans voted
his administration
will harm generations.
Congress must act and pursue impeachment
or his resignation
and rescue their nation.
(Rhyme)
Jan. 2, 2019
Contest: As easy as ABB
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Categories:
touts, 12th grade, allusion, angst,
Form:
Rhyme