Best Wanta Poems


Premium Member Rainfall Roulette and Games For Suits

As the dogs led me on our walk, I took a chance and left my raincoat behind despite the threatening clouds.  The sky turned from dappled to grey but I stayed dry, although my legs were damp from dogshake after we past the creek.

In the woods, the air was quiet as nervous birds flitted silently from tree to tree, uncertain if they should hunker down to feed for a few more days or move on afore it gets too cold.

Across the border, the wanta be leaders of the flock, all dressed up in party suits, are playing a different game with stakes almost as high. And while I don’t have a vote I sure do hope that Hillary trumps Donald.
Categories: wanta, political,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member Exposed

The first time
Goodness?
or not
the first time I saw a man’s parts
I was five…….

Such confusion, such disbelief
hide and seek we played and in a a box he hid.
Sears had delivered a new frig
his sons and I “ally alley out free……..”
we called and ran from room to room 
in giggling search for each other.
Closet ……….no..
Behind the kitchen door ……no
Upstairs we ran His son and I to the kids bedroom.
Under the bed….nope!

Downstairs we ran and out the door,
the boy went left I went right.
The backyard with all the sheds and trees and….
a huge cardboard box……….
His eldest son squealed from the front yard…
baby boy was no where out front!!!

The flap on the cardboard box moved.
Ever so quietly I approached ……….
“I got him!” I screamed and lifted the box flap.
Inside the box sat my friends Dad?
In an over coat and nothing else….
“Wanta see what I got?” He said?
Between his hands stood a rigid rod
he petted it. Looking down at it and up at me….

I screamed. I ran. “Grandma! GRANDMAAAAAAAAAAA!”
And that was my first exposure to man.
Categories: wanta, introspectionson, son,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Prom Girl

PROM GIRL
Here at the prom and here I set
I'm as alone as I can get
I thought I'd die but haven't yet
things are just as bad as they can be.

I'm all alone I cry and cry
I dance alone I want to die
don't want to live but don't know why
things are just as bad as they can be.

I'm all alone here in this dress,
I made the grade but failed the test
I lost it all throughout my quest
things are just as bad as they can be.

I'm all alone when in my bed
I'm so alone I hate my head
it's hard as stone and thick as lead
things are just as bad as they can be.

I'm all alone and hurt a lot
I'm so alone I'm all I've got
my love life's always not so hot
things are just as bad as they can be.

I'm all alone and ugly too
I'm so alone my life is through
My dog hates me what can I do?
Things are just as bad as they can be.
("Excuse me, do you like maybe wanta uhhmmmm dance...?")
smile
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
© Vee Bdosa  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wanta, abuse, culture, dance, love
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Crack of Dawn

I get up early at the crack of dawn
Gotta see my babe ‘fore she’s dressed and gone
Daylight peekin thru the window blind
Me and that gal get to feeling fine

The crack of dawn, nothin’s wrong
My baby starts shakin when I sing her that song

The crack of dawn is my favorite thing
I get inspire-ation and it makes me sing
Makes me want to sing my favorite song
About stuffin that muffin at the crack of dawn

The crack of dawn is the finest way
For shakin, up wakin, up every day
Pushin that cushion at the crack of dawn
Wake it up, shake it up, all day long

It’s Mabel on the table in the afternoon
Chiquita finds pita by the early moon
Shagin in the wagon don’t turn me on
We got to get up early at the crack of dawn

Two legs over, three eggs up
Mix it up, fix it, in a coffee cup
Shake that bacon up, shake that pan
Shake my belly up, man oh man

Baby said daddy you’re a big old jerk
She’s still shakin and late for work
Keep it to the right and hold on tight
I wanta see my shake-it-up home tonight

Gotta get outa town ‘fore the days is done
Gotta get more chicken, oughta to get it done
Gonna see my bade at the crack of dawn
Gonna get more shakin, gonna get it done 

Dawn-der-deen won’t you be my queen
I like it when you shake it like a wash machine
Be my queen, be my rose
Shake it like a chicken, when the rooster crows

Rooster crows at the crack of dawn
Got to see my babe ‘fore she’s up and gone
Up and gone, she’s up and gone
Choke that chicken, she’s up and gone
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015

Dedicated to Sheldon and his Girlfriend Dawn
Categories: wanta, funny love, hilarious, humor,
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Antique Knights

A summer Saturday night brings them all out grates shining
spit polished chrome, driven by bald men with pates shining.

Candy apple red antique corvettes with white wall tires
soft topped convertibles from Isadora Duncan's estate shining.

Well preserved women with beehive hair in leather bucket seats
go out for a ride with their Romeo's down the interstate shining.

Elvis dreamed of bee bop queens escorted round the scene
down, down town in La La land on the silver screen shining.

So put on your pedal pushers, grab a bottled Coke Classic
tie a scarf in your ponytail and dress like jail bait shining.

Cause it Saturday night at the antique car show and "YO!
and I wanta conjugate on that bumper's silver plate shining.
Categories: wanta, car, cool,
Form: Ghazal

I'M a Country Man

I’m a country man living in this beautiful land 
Every day seeing how lucky I am
When I drive into the city
Because the woman are so pretty
Inside and out  
They are filled with beauty
From the legs, to the hair,
All I can do is smile and stare
Sometimes I wave here and there
To these pretty girls that are everywhere
Oh when I have had a long day at work
And I am feeling like I need to smirk
I just drive in to the city
Because the woman are so pretty
And sometimes when I am at the city bar
So many girls are there looking pretty good when they dance
So I flash them a smile 
Hoping for a little romance that will last
Cause I’m a country man living in this beautiful land
I wanta settle down with the prettiest one in this town
Yes I am a country man
Oh I am just a country man living in the city
Where the woman are so pretty
Categories: wanta, cowboy-western, happiness, beautiful, woman,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme


Jobs, Jobs, Jobs

Schwegmann, Winn Dixie, the Superstore and more
Customer service was instilled indeed in you for sure
You hungry so you pull up in the drive thru
Welcome to McDonald's, how may I help you?

Baskins Robbins, oh so sweet
Brownie sundaes I love to eat
Easy Serve turned into Quicky's
Sometimes soda cans are sticky

Working at Lowes after Hurricane Katrina, business was a lot
We sold paint, copper, propane, plywood, nails and sheetrock
Get the items off the shelf at night this had to be
Don't leave it on top stock cause you can't sell what you can't see

The Sky Room, Terminator, Charlie 15
If you ever worked for Delta, then you know just what I mean
Working with the schools were oh so cool and fun
Enjoyed working with the kids and playing in the sun

The job at the Convention Center was indeed a Hot Mess
And the management team, shh... I wasn't impressed
Wasted labor is when you pay desk boys $75,000 or more if you will
And you got spiders and cobwebs growing inside yo window sill
Even the HNIC act like he don't see
Bake me a potato cause this shh... ain't fly with me

This is unacceptable, the words that I would state
Feisty, fierce, dominant and confident, the one they love to hate
I never was a follower going along with the flow
Who the hell is Colette Dright? 
They will all come to know

Stand out, even if you gotta stand alone
And if you don't wanta work, stay yo lazy self home
Categories: wanta, change, fun, growth, jobs,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member No Break From You

I am tired of all this b s
So here it is God
From now on You can do anything You do
And say anything You say
And I don't give a damn
You think I care?
Well I am going to show You who cares
It's always something
One thing after another
I could never catch a break
Well break time is right now
I am on break
Break with You
Break because I can't cut any craps
Break because I can't do any s
Break because it's break time
And I had it
Break because anything I do is never going to be enough
Grand enough
For your approval
Well I don't need it
And I don't want it
Good riddance
I just wish You never want me to go back on my words
Because I don't wanta
You hear what I say?
Categories: wanta, faith,
Form: Free verse

Fear of Violence Fill In the Blanks

Stop drop 
gun shot pop 
whoops to late 
hollow point penatrate 
your cranium N===='s.be blastin um 
like the wild wild west 
N===='s.ya don't wanta test 
roll up on ya quick as S=== wit 
Glocks cocked 1 in the chamber 
14 more in the clip 

Go ahead N==== start talkin S=== 
get your dumb A== pistil whipped 
Say what N==== make me squeeze my trigga 
Take your narrow A== and teach ya how ta dance 
wit 2 in the head N==== never had a chance 

Don't act like you got somethin that I won't take 
Get in my way fool end up at your own D=== wake 
I learned to solve my problems wit my fist 
Traded that S=== in for a Smith and Wesson 
now pay attention cause here come the lesson 

A real menace to society 
a product of hypocrisy 
my mind is twisted 
there's no remorse 
I'll stomp the S=== out ya N==== 
leave ya face down in the gutta 
M===== F===== that's par for the course 

so when I roll up on ya.N====.... 
give up the cash 
and don't start talking S=== 
cause your punk A== will get hit 
in a quick minute N==== so come on wit it 

West 55 Philly 
N===='s be ILLY 
make ya sleep wit a lily 
' RIP' above your name like I told ya 
from my hollow point that holed ya 
I be the trip that'll trip ya 
like the LSD someone slipped ya 
I be like the grim reaper 
I'll send ya 6 feet deeper 
ta see the crypt keeper 

rated R for violence
Fear, and violence as a result, but no truth behind the reasons, or thought for the solution
Categories: wanta, social
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Notcher Mama's First Choice

NOTCHER MAMA'S FIRST CHOICE
       (White Boy Rappin)
There's a whole lotta nuthin thacha can't get free
it's the price you pay for whatcha wanta be
if ya gotta have a reason then ya just don't see
you
just don't see.
there's a curtain on her window and it's snugged up tight
if you's peepin through the curtain she is dyna-mite!
she will meetcha in the parlor and she doesn't bite
you
just don't see.
she's a little understanding but she won't say how
if you ever read her number you could call her now
she has wrote it for a reason on the bathroom towel
you
just don't see.
If you think you gotta leave she can turn you on
if ya ain't got no money then you best you gone
with a hunert in you pocket you all set to dawn
you 
just don't see.
She's a little underhanded when it comes to love
if ya don't know she's planned it whatcha thinkin of?
If ya prayin at her curtain, does ya need a shove?
You 
just don't see.

© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
© Vee Bdosa  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wanta, addiction, racism, rap,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Father and Son (Rhyme and Slam)

Watch me, young man, more intently this time 
I will teach you to write poetry with meter and rhyme
The way poems have been written for hundreds of years
With beauty and grace enough to bring you to tears

no disrespect meant old man
but throw that shtuff in the garbage can
i could duplicate byron if I wanted to
but I want to express a new attitude
some’n that’s free
come’n from me
not repeating crap from history
revolutionary
i wanta be bold
not simply do what i’m told
you’d understand if you weren’t so old

A poem should be written to express beauty and love
With words of wisdom inspired from our God above
When read aloud, the words from our lips should flow
And radiate our listener’s mind with an intellectual glow

that’s fine for you and your conservative crowd
but some things need to be expressed more loud
shouted from the street
not all pretty and neat
with a young man’s beat
don’t expect me to kiss your feet
i am not you
and you are not me
i don’t want you to change
actually, i accept you the way you are
why can’t you do the same
i think it’s a shame
my youth you blame
for wanting to express poetry in a different vain

Anger is not a healthy form of expression
Your poetry leads me deep into depression

you call it anger, 
to me its just passion
i like your poems 
but for me, they’re old fashion

I guess in the end, you are really just being my son
Following the path I taught you when all is said and done
I told you always to be true about whom you are
Go ahead son; use your own style to reach your star

i love you, dad

I love you, too, Son


(Inspired by, "The Controversy")
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wanta, on writing and wordswords,
Form: Free verse

My Baby Loves Me

My baby loves me, it's plain to see,
she don't wanta go shopping without me.
Although engrossed in the latest line,
loves to see her "sweetums" trailing right behind.

Asks my opinion about everything,
making me feel like a virtual King.
Through Riches, Parisians and all the rest,
for me, says, she's gotta look her best.

She bought us a Jaguar the other day:
in the need to impress me, she don't play.
The home we bought, she found with ease,
extravagant, but me she wanted to please.

I'm just as healthy as a man can be,
she knows the best restaurant's; exhaustively.
I work much overtime, - each and every day,
'cause I know my baby loves me that way.

Oh God, why am I always soooo exhausted.
Categories: wanta, allegory, baby, me, baby,
Form: Rhyme

A Mile In My Shoes

ALONE IN THIS HOUSE QUIET AS A MOUSE WONDERING WHEN IT'LL BE MY TURN
 
NOTHINGS FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU ARE POOR

THE PRICE I PAID THE WOMEN YOU LAID ONLY IF SHE HAD STAYED

ID SLAY A DRAGON WITH JUST ONE STONE WENT FROM BIRTH TO FULLY GROWN

HE OWNS HIS WIFE A BORROWED LIFE MOTIVE OR EXCUSE ITS RATHER TRIFE

WIPE THOSE TEARS NO ONE CARES THE WHOLE WORLDS SCREAMING THIS ISNT FAIR

FACT OR FICTION WHITE BOYS LYNCHING EVERYONE WISHING UPON A STAR

THINKING THEIR DREAMS ARE WAY TOO FAR

THE CHOICE IS HARD ITS A WILD CARD

BURNED LEFT SCARED RUINED AND CHARRED 

THEY HIJACKED FOUR PLANES AND KILLED FOR FAME

HARDLEY INSANE JUST A COURT ROOM GAME

FORGOT MY OWN NAME EASY TO TAME

IGNITE THE FLAME AND DELIGATE THE BLAME

MY PICTURES HUNG WITH A TACK NOT WORTHY OF A PLAQUE

BUILT AND STACKED BAGS ALWAYS PACKED

STREETS ARE MY HOME ALONE I ROME

PAY THE TOLL RACE THE COPS IT NEVER STOPS

LOOKING FOR LOVE IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES

CONFUSING FACES HIGH SPEED CHASES

LEFT OVER FOOD WHATS UP DUDE

CONSIDERED RUDE VORN WITH AN ATTITUDE

PICKING UP STRAGGLERS IN A BAR FRONTING IN A RENTAL CAR

STANDING MY GROUN PAUSE REWOUND 

USED TO BE FUN WHEN I WAS YOUNG AND DUMB

YOU THINK YOU WON IT'LL NEVER BE DONE

COME ON SON YOU HIDE BEHIND A WATER GUN

THIS IS NOTHING MORE THAN NONE

          WANTA BUN BUN
Categories: wanta, lifelove,
Form:

Trash Ii

he will find a me
gonna wanta trim
the Ruldolph had laugh
to just to two more-
delight chymistry,
But health Never good
too slow an old friend
out of bound wild
call form Animal
which lead too wrought ****-
blemish the spot mesh
tarnish hatt hardier!
metal daily use
his reputation
up, so thin and fine?
still like her hat mess
buy the pan flute tie
biological
in wake of the work
way technology
Categories: wanta, angst,
Form: Blank verse

Coastline

Reliving Coastline memories. 

We drove to the beach.

I wrote in the sand.

 "  I hate

the way you

make me feel"

I wanta depend on your hand.

You make me the happiest, 

man.

I want you back.


You get me out of my comfort zone. 

 taught me about cow bellys,

I don't want anybody 

to feel the way I do,

  about you.

So don't let them in!

You made me who I am.


Recalling coastline memories

walking on the beach.

Hour car ride.

You're calling /canceling 

With that guy.

You were supposed to meet.

I'm attracted to your honesty.

Did you wait to call him ,

when you were with me?


You wanted me to know that you moved on.

Cause I cut you deep.

I wanta scream Sorry.

We are

Close to the coastline. 

You know where I stand

 I'm stuck on you.

I'm driving you to the beach.

Never losing you again.


I wanted to start the  drive 

 with a list of 

redemption apologies.

At the end of the night, I wanted you to forgive me.

I know in takes alot from your history

Will I have another shot ?

Wannabe on the coastline with you.

 

Promise I won't break your  heart,

Not this time!

You may break mine!

I'll take that chance 

You are more than a treasure chest.

I learn my lesson. 


Even after 20 years

 Making me feel uneasy 

with that stare.

When you are mad at me,

For trivial things.

When old friends bring up your ex.

Talking about your history 

Im still jealous when 

 they mentioned him.


You're still are out my league.

  Deeper and harder  in love 

with you. 

Im into only.

 You still have a chance to break my heart  because it belongs to you.

It ends at the coastline with you.

It will always be you.
© John Diket  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wanta, beach, betrayal, break up,
Form: Free verse
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