Best Usual Poems
I’ll never forget what’s her name
A PE teacher and ogre she became
For I was such a sickly child
it really made this ogre wild
Held in my hand a medical certificate
exempted from all things physical
with Rheumatic Fever and St Vitus’ Dance
for me to take part ~ there was no chance
Instead I assisted the Deputy Head
with clerical duties I helped him instead
But clearly this really annoyed her
As she gave me her evil stare
She appeared to be looking right through me
No words were spoken ~ was I even there
Each and every year she wrote
inside my school report
A snide remark that ended with
“as usual she did not take part”
For I was told such illnesses
Could leave me with a weakened heart
And so upon Doctor’s orders
in PE I was not to take part
I can still see her face
As she filled me with fear
No compassionate words
from her lips I could hear
Whilst illnesses kept me off school for a year
It’s time I let go of this nasty so and so
For she left planet Earth a long time ago
And my heart ~ it still beats
I’m so glad to be here
With a smile on my face
I have no one to fear
*This was sadly a true story which whilst writing this poem, brought back some of the feelings, which by her actions she made me feel – she made me feel weak and insignificant because I could not partake in any physical education classes, but I did become a very competent secretary in adulthood, so all that clerical work for the Deputy Head was clearly beneficial…some teachers have a lot to answer for...
21st September 2019
9th place ~ Premier Contest
Contest Name: I'LL NEVER FORGET WHAT'S HIS NAME (OR HER NAME)
Sponsor: John Lawless
Contest Name STRAND CHOICE 7,
Sponsor Brian Strand
3rd Place
Rock Hardon just called a staff meeting
To hear a complaint about cheating
Our Xerox machine
Could not be wiped clean
So privates were publicly sheeting
Ah, sweet business!
And it's smooth as usual!
I freaking love life.
An important man suffers a serious head injury.
It’s a cerebral blood clot requiring surgery.
However, it cannot be performed the usual way.
Here is an ultra modern method available this day:
This is a scientific advance quite difficult to realize.
They shrink a submarine and its crew to microscopic size.
The ship is injected into the patient’s body.
Only a short time is available to reach the injury.
The surgeons on the ship use a laser to cut the clot.
A maximum time of sixty minutes is all they have got.
The patient’s immune system will easily realize
when the ship and crew begin to restore to normal size.
White blood cells will engulf them and eradicate.
The crew has to escape before it is too late.
Want to know what will happen in this science fiction fantasy?
If it is available, just watch the DVD.
Based on the 1966 film “Fantastic Voyage”
Nary earthly idea what needs done next,
each candidate seeks his opponent’s hex.
Their Agapes are sloppy,
carnal mistake they copy,
lost in a googolplex of carnal fix!
All their tables are full of their vomit,
very much so with all idle comment!
We need us a carnal flush,
right down the white throne a plus!
Carnal greed gone to seed, they are unfit!
For and in honor of Carolyn Devonshire and Contest!
They promise the sun, moon and stars
Kiss all the babies and pass out cigars
Wild campaign vows are spoken
When elected they're broken
We should send them all packing to Mars
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 in John Freeman's "Political Woes" Contest - July 2010
This one called that one a crook;
That one called this one a dud.
Neither could be clearly seen,
Once they were done slinging mud.
In lunch or dinner
at table my guests waiting
bees, jelly... cats, fish
Our boss employed a receptionist
Whose beauty we could not compare
Double D cups woke up the knights
As pheromones surged through the air
Her chair is usually empty
Excepting this handwritten note:
"I have just stepped out for the male"
Exactly as written I quote
Every day at quarter to four
There is often a rush to the library door
The ‘usual suspects’ are often there
Sitting on a library chair
They speak to the teacher who they have upset
It may have been deliberate or even for a bet
They could have been fighting, swearing or smoking
When they arrive for their chat no one is joking
Disturbing others, using their phone or often being late
They will end up in the library - it’s not just down to fate
Some may learn and try to refrain
But the ‘usual suspects’ do it again and again
After a short time their chat is over, and to the bus they run
But I love to see the days when the library list shows ‘none’
Our staff they do a marvellous job to try and educate our youth
Poor behaviour can stop this task, it is the sorry truth.
brutalized senseless happenstance
with a corkscrew conscience
full of cheap wine.
daylight rammeses unraveling the
sheets in the morning.
three bottles tipped sideways lieing
against the alarm clock.
such a strange cracked nautilus,
my eyes flushed with water
in a cheap sink.
but i will spare the stranger in my skin.
live until it becomes all to usual.
If I had an IQ of 17,
would this be normal?
My son,
with cerebral palsy,
no language capacity, no LeftBrain ability to read or write
or speak using linguistic tools,
with no hint of verbal or violent dominance issues,
has an angelic peace-loving IQ
in the 17 ballpark
On several behavioral measures of IQ
(does he have a swallow reflex?
Does he flinch
if his toe is pinched
or his foot is tickled?).
For him,
this IQ is normal,
when he’s feeling healthy,
relatively free of trauma
(including social
and political
and economic
and ecological
and theological
and biological, etc.),
Having a good win/win cooperative,
synergetic,
unconditionally warm regarding day.
And, for me,
his IQ seems normal,
or he would not be
the magnificent young man I know
and love
and care for
and listen to,
As he most times sits in silent
(hopeful bliss?)
Yet sometimes roars his verbal agency
to be seen
with unconditional warm regard
and heard with warm and sacred prophecies,
Our indigenous EarthTribe time
will never be less wisdom
than restoring ecojustice
compassionately co-invested
healthy and safe enough
for all organic species.
Usual cliche opening line
A trite and superficial rhyme..
Now exposition maudlin-
about pain or love or the weather.
A clever offset bit of sing-song;
Stuff like ding-dong or even King-Kong.
And, as usual a line to make-
this thing too long. Now finish strong-
to alert the reader to the fact
this poem has run out of time.
In this space, of course, I'll tack
A little "AbAb" end rhyme.
And too be cute, say it turned out fine.
Thomas Watson works to cure
the diversity of man
with computers to assure
no one takes flight from their plan
as the mesh gets cinched tighter
behind lines then walls of stone,
dooming writer and fighter
to brave barricades alone
while the cabal keeps gaining
freedoms we should be saving.
Brotherly trust drifts; waning
flags are waving, still craving
blood for profit and order
with smiles and needles in hand
to dissolve creed and border
in culling their grand demand.
Forgotten what it's like to be thought consumed,
Feeling a little rough while appearing well and groomed,
Something on its way and I sense it more than most,
A choice I haven't made already in the post.