Best Wayne Poems
“Cowboys” , big John Wayne starred.
Cowhands abandon him.
Call, joining the Goldrush.
Could greenhorn kids succeed.
Camp cook and chuck wagon,
Complete the trail crew drive.
Cow punching green schoolboys
Called on to claim their jobs.
Cimarron, the oldest,
Capricious, turned away.
Cow punching, green schoolboys
Combating bucking horse,
Caught on to rope, brand, herd
Cattle, and cow-horses.
Cattle drive is ready.
Cimarron follows close.
Cattle-rustlers kill Will,
Corralling all his herd.
Cow punching green schoolboys
Caught and killed the rustlers.
Complete the cattle-drive.
Cattle sold, gravestone bought.
Carved, “ Beloved Husband and Father”
8/22/2016
Not for contest:
Pleiades C
22 lines, 6 syllable each line
17th line 9 syllables
The Cowboys is a 1972 American western film starring John Wayne,
John Wayne nickname Duke
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cowboys
using;
http://www.howmanysyllables.com/poem_syllable_counter_workshop/index
There once was a builder called Wayne,
Who built a new house on a plain,
But his wife took fright
On their wedding night:
He’d forgotten the roof again.
*my theory on Stonehenge : )
Love, Wayne
Your skin glows like the Banana, blossoms sexy as the daisy in the purest hope of
spring.
My yearning heart rises to your guitar voice and leaps like a dog at the whisper of
your name, Wayne.
The evening ascends in on a great humming bird wing.
I am calmed by your g-string that I carry into the twilight of tablebeams and hold
next to my philtrum.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of water.
As my knees falls from my hat, it reminds me of your bed.
In the hushed, I listen for the last holler of the spring.
My heated naval leaps to my jeans. I wait in the crystal moonlight for your secret
thrill so that we may dance as one, naval to naval, in search of the glorious red and
spiritual eyes of love.
From the love poem generator on poetry soup!! LOL
Ode To Wayne Gretzky
We all carry the same genes,
and look how different we turn out;
I honed my skills for playing hockey,
and look how far I’ve come.
***
Note:
Wayne Gretzky was born in Brantford, Ontario, in 1961. He played junior hockey in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, for the Soo Greyhounds, and in 1978, signed with the Indianapolis Racers of the World Hockey Association (WHA). That same year, he was traded to the Edmonton Oilers of the WHA, who joined the National Hockey League (NHL) when the WHA folded. While with the Edmonton Oilers, Wayne and his fellow teammates won four Stanley Cups. Wayne Gretzky, aka “The Great One,” went on to play for the Los Angeles Kings and St. Louis Blues and ended his hockey career with the New York Rangers in 1999 following his retirement.
By Michael Wayne and Smriti Jha
I will paint my love RED across your face as I drink in your
beauty.
A river I will course in BLUE down the center of your chest.
You turn me RED with your vibrant strokes.
My soul melts in your arms like scentedSMOKE
Upon your left breast I will mark radiant, life giving SUN ,
The right bosom will receive my gentle painting of the MOON
The emulation of two heavens seep into my heart.
The one desire you paint reflects your inspired art.
Crimson"RED HEARTS I will brush onto your dainty arms.
Colorful butterflies I reproduce on your ticklish legs.
Like a rainbow of love streaming out of my consciousness ,
Pouring down those sensuous legs so rapturous and sublime.
MOUNTAIN peaks I will design on your smooth back.
Wings I will paint on your luscious feet, to bring you close
I will run down your chest with my feet till you drag me
closer to hear my racing heart beats.
Upwards pointing ARROWS will trace upon your
inner THIGHS ,
They will guide me to the place of our INTENSE union.
Inhibition melting arrows rest between my thighs
Like rain drops falling from fertile,blue skies.
ON your lower belly I will PAINT GREEN like the leaves of
a healthy and growing small tree
This plant of life will strengthen our nuptial bond
.This dream I find so tantalizingly profound
In COLLABORATION WITH A VERY VERY TALENTED
MICHAEL WAYNE
There once was a whale named Wayne the Whale,
In his fin there was a rusty nail,
Then he met the crab named George,
Who got the nail out of it's gorge,
Wayne the Whale left with a flip of his tail.
Would you compare me to a summer’s day?
No chance, you look more like a wet week-end
But we’ve been married 30 years, this May
And all that time, you drove me round the bend
We’ve had three kids, of whom we’re more than proud
I’ll give you that, they’ve all turned out not bad
And you are never shy to say aloud
I know - that you’re the best I’ve ever had
But we both know I was your first and last
And I knew that you’d loved and lost before
But now our love has settled, strong and fast
I guess that’s true, I’m sorry I’m a bore
You’re my bore, Wayne – and we’ll both be OK
As long as we survive Valentine’s Day!
Works too hard to catch a pound of fat on his waist
Always sees life as a to do list and an artistic canvas
Yearns for hot lead and targets infinite, one more gun please
Needs love and affection in the form of a hug or two often.
Energetic worry-wort such that he is a bit OC
His last days
in his dreams
in Jamaica mon
The capital Kingston
He prayed to the heavens
Gods only laughed
in the Caribbean waves
as this small minded
prang called
the pond of frogs
glorious
You are the wild grass growing between the sidewalk crack.
The support you need rests on my sturdy, rugged back.
I am the peak sheltering you from flashing thunderstorms.
The path we walk, I will clear of thistles and sharp thorns.
Life's meaning is clear when shared with an eternal friend.
And time will know about our unbreakable strength.
Worry not about the whirlwind of the past.
Rough surfaces will no longer last.
As I promise you a peaceful tomorrow.
By drinking the bitter ocean of yesterday's sorrow.
It was great fun collaborating with a very Talented Wayne Hill. The first five lines were written by Wayne and last five lines by me [ Smriti Jha]
I loved you John Wayne!
I wished you were my father
or maybe an older brother
who’d tutor me to be tough
when manners weren’t enough
and toughness was needed
that civility be heeded
and not to brag or complain.
O I loved you John Wayne!
As soon as I was old enough
to earn the price of admission
I saw your films in succession
at the first run houses down
in the big deal part of town
and enshrined each one on a list
taped to my bedside wall
and read about the ones I’d missed.
Shucks, I loved you most of all!
Fort Apache and Red River
took pride of place on the page;
they’d eaten up my weekly wage.
I missed the Yellow Ribbon;
I hoped I’d be forgiven.
At the Rio and the Broad
(in a dicey neighborhood)
I atoned with films you’d done
before I was even born.
Western after Western
and tales of oil and whiskey
and scheming ladies, O so risky!
I hoped I’d be excused
when I compromised my muse
by adding well-built gals
to Duke and all his pals.
Montez, Russell, and Lake
made my hormones quake.
O I loved you, John Wayne.
I could feel your bashful pain
When the pretty lady roped you
and hat in hand you’d bow,
the furrow deepening on your brow,
and utter monosyllables plus “Ma’am,”
no longer a ram, more like a lamb.
O I shared you pain, John Wayne!
And still I loved you John Wayne,
your true grit and donnybrook,
your menacing brow, the look
that said, “Enough, my friend.
“This bull is going to end!”
You swaggered? (not quite it--
as if your boots didn’t quite fit?)
You took him by the horns and shook;
Plomp! Down went the snook!
How I loved you, John Wayne!
And I love you still when again I see
the doughty Duke on my smart TV
as much as Papa’s lone old man,
with fish chewed down to the bone
loved Joltin’ Joe Dimaggio
when the Clipper’s legs began to go
and he was hobbled by his heel.
John Wayne, you were the real deal.
Written April 14, 2017
It's easy to fall in love
Even easier to break apart
I've been trying for six long years
To mend this broken heart
You used to talk to me so sweet
My biggest fan in the bleacher seats
From the rose bush to the baseball bat
Why'd you have to go and be like that
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Why'd you go and have to die
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Even he cried sometimes
Life never looked so bleak
Than the day you left me
It's easy to forgive sometimes
But this ain't one of those times
Sticks and stones may break my bones
Glass houses are all I've known
From the salt shaker to the baseball bat
Why'd you have to go and be like that
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Why'd you go and have to die
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Even he cried sometimes
The challenge for all relationships today is to be passionate friday to Friday.
To have a inner-friendship thats commentable in caring thursday to Thursday.
The secret to the cornerstone of your heart(for each other) is understanding
the expectation of mistakes(cause there will-be some) wednesday to Wednesday.
Can we have passionate romance outside of the "bedroom", (Yes) when? we are
around each other in the high-noontuesday to Tuesday.
When we disagree against the odds monday to Monday.
And you teach-me the latest fashion sunday to Sunday.
And together we'll face, "The Challenging Passion" saturday to Saturday.
7-days a week is more than I deserve for my action/The Challenging Passion.
Wayne a Great Dane,
from a princely court
was playing in the courtyard.
He rolled and fell short
in the castle moat.
A good sport
he was. With laughter roar
from the royal court;
out his nose water he snorted.
3/6/2021
John Wayne would not entertain
self-doubt or indecision
jumped in again and again
with full blown tunnel vision
pure bravado does not stop
mortality's sure advance
nothing can give assurance
we will have that one last dance
not every situation
is cause to pose scream and shout
will be no acclimation
if we can't find our way out
lies turn into bolder lies
words sole purpose is deceit
no use trying to disguise
sometimes we'll take a backseat
unease growing faster now
leering faces seem stranger
no one going to ask how
words led to this much danger
not an outstanding question
of what might make it alright
flat out wrong situation
when lives are taken for spite
cannot simply turn and run
at this point of no return
too much cannot be undone
to dodge permanent downturn
this world's not all black and white
except in minds which are closed
we've all become wrapped too tight
in myths long ago composed
John Wayne would stick to his guns
in those technicolor dreams
but we're the actual ones
coming apart at the seams