Best With A Grain Of Salt Poems
Upon waking up this day, a single tear
Father your eternal immortality
Still proves wise and gracious
I haven’t been misled by popular opinion
Which should be taken with a grain of salt
You showed me how to expose the counterfeits
who foster misperceptions,
Which have shaped our faith
How to think with an open mind, heart, and soul
Father, your every word was a rare gift
A worth guide__
A teardrop of glad remembrance and a
Prayer for your soul
You might take this with a grain of salt
Knowing I heard it on the grape vine
Why they let the cat out of the bag
I'd say your guess is as good as mine
They say I tend to sit on the fence,
Off my rocker by not a far cry
That I'm not playing with a full deck
They should let those sleeping dogs lie!
Because there's method to my madness,
And I'm to blame if things go south
So I'm not beating around the bush
You heard it straight from the horses mouth!
Why Poets Write
Why do poets write?,
Why does the moon shine at night?.
Why does water fall with such grace?,
Why is a rainbow such a beautiful sight?
So, why do poets write?
Do they write because the moon shines so bright?
Do they write because water falls with such grace?
Or is it because of the majesty of a hawk, in flight?
Poets write because that’s what we do,
Whether it be a Sonnet, Etheree or Haiku,
We see things through our own prism,
And write about it in our creative point of view.
This is why I write,
I write because I see beauty in the moonlight,
I appreciate the splendor of a waterfall,
And the majesty of a hawk, in flight.
I write because it feeds my soul,
Writing the perfect poem is my ultimate goal,
I write, I do my best,
The rest is out of my control.
The perfect words, in the perfect order,
Follow the rules, no pressure,
Slowly see your creation come alive,
When it works, there’s nothing better.
Poets, generally, don’t write for the glory,
We heal people by proxy,
We are emotion peddlers,
And we do it all for free.
I can’t speak for everyone, nor would I try,
My urge to write is something I’d best not deny,
Or things go drastically wrong,
Like ice, in the middle of July.
So, regardless of why you write,
Keep your vision in sight,
Take criticism with a grain of salt,
Never get discouraged, never get uptight.
© 2011
I am in deep despair
I fear my name he will smear
I don’t know who he is
But I hope he uses a little sense.
I understand My Cowboys
Heard about OUR LOVE STORY
And this one guy
Says he’ll tell ALL
I don’t know what he can tell
Billy wasn’t a gossip
And neither am I
So whatever you do hear
Will surely be lies
I didn’t know how to title this poem
Head Hung is used and also Boo Hoo
And I didn’t know what to do
So I though I should at least warn you.
Please, Please I beg of you
Take it all with a grain of salt
And if you should choose
A little bit of lime is good too.
So I hear
THE ISLANDS OF SAN JUAN - TIMESHARE
[FOLKTALE]
IN A PORTION, A SPELL IS CASTE.
THE PEOPLE ARE CALLED NUGLUMMI.
IN A TRANCE STATE, THEY EAT HONEY AND BEES ARE FORM FROM THEIR EYES.
INSIGHTFULLY THEY BEGIN TO TRANSFORM THE TERRAIN AND ISLANDS FORMED FOR THE FREEDOM OF WOMAN AND MAN.
THE PEOPLE OF THE SEA ARE FREE IN THE PUGET SOUNDS.
DOUGLAS FIR GROWS TALL.
THE LANDSCAPE IS EVERGREEN AND THE LUMMIS ARE SALISAN.
DIALECTIC VERSIONS OF THIS LANGUAGE ARE POSSESSED.
THEIR LOGIC IS HOW THEY TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES.
*
THE PENINSULA THAT RESIDES IN THEIR TOPOGRAPHY IS VAST IN SHAPE AND FASHIONED BY THE UNINHABITED PORTAGE ISLAND WHERE THEIR RESERVED LAND NOW LAYS. LIKE MANY NORTHWEST COAST TRIBES, THEY GASTRONOMY CONSISTS OF THE COLLECTING OF SHELLFISH, GATHERING OF PLANTS SUCH AS CAMAS AND DIFFERENT SPECIES OF BERRIES, AND MOST IMPORTANT, AS SALMON FISHERMEN, THEY DEVELOPED “REEF NETTING.”
THEY ENJOY POTLATCH ON THE ORCAS ISLAND, SAN JUAN ISLAND, LUMMI ISLAND, FIDALGO ISLAND, PORTAGE ISLAND, AND NEAR POINT ROBERTS AND SANDY POINT.
IN ALL NUGLUMMI, WERE COMMERCIAL TO THEIR TRADE.
THEY GREATER HARVEST IS TODAY.
THE PADDLE TO LUMMI IS 68 CANOEING FAMILIES PADDLING HAND-MADE CANOES TO THE LUMMI RESERVATION FROM PARTS OF WASHINGTON STATE AND BRITISH COLUMBIA.
**
[TODAY]
THESE ISLANDS OF THE PUGET SOUNDS IS TOO FAR AWAY TO HEAR.
WITH A GRAIN OF SALT, THE SEA SWEEPS THE BEACH.
REMEMBRANCE IS IN WALKING SILENTLY AND HEARING THE TRIBAL SINGING IN SALISH.
THESE ISLANDS ARE A CASTAWAYS HAVEN – A HARBOR OF CONTENTMENT, WHICH LAY IN BRITISH COLUMBIA AND THE NORTHWESTERN UNITED STATES.
ROMANTIC ENDEAVORS ARE BASED ON YOUR IMAGINATION.
THESE ARE THE SAN JUAN ISLANDS OF WASHINGTON STATE.
MAY YOUR VISIT BE SAFE!
***
I’m thankful that I’m a woman
With the power to beguile
With charm at my fingertips
And bewitchment in my smile
I’m proud to be a woman
Of genders the fairer one
With a silken soft beauty
And aura to match the sun
I’m glad to be a woman
Of creation the very best
The epitome of all the finest
By whom mankind was blessed
I revel in being a woman
Full of such delicate grace
The one to woo and dazzle
With passion etched on my face
I relish being a woman
For I’m able to dominate
To conquer and subdue
With one motion to subjugate
I celebrate being a woman
To have voluptuous curves
Not angular and muscled
But supple, with gentle swerves
I jubilate, for I’m a woman
Made as a help meet for man
To console and nurture him
Add my wisdom to his plan
Yes…oh yes, I am a woman
I know what I’m capable of
At times I am a tigress
At others a gentle dove
A woman is the essence
Of beauty and all that’s good
Men, I advise you to be careful
And treat them as you should
For women are little girls
Made of sugar and of spice
Now do be good little boys
If you want them to be nice!
YES, I’m thankful I’m a woman
I embody pleasure sweet
To be found in my presence
Is a never ending treat!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
OK men...take this with a grain of salt...C'mon! It is the International Women's Day. Show that woman in your life a little bit more love today, for where would you be without her! ;)
A man, 20 years of age, another man, 40 years of age
The young man in his inexperience asks the 40 year old man
"You've lived twice my life, whats your advice?"
The older man pauses
Reflecting on his own life, in hindsight..
He says:
It is said by many
The best teacher is experience
This statement is true, but experience
Does not equate to intelligence, or intellect
As both do not equate to experience
With every word from spoken by a man in his youth
It is received by the senior with a grain of salt.
Though in reality, they are both adults
What distinguishes a person whos lived longer?
Is years of learning beneficial if they accomplish little?
A decade spent listless watching days blend together
Carrys more wisdom, more growth than 5 years of struggle?
To believe this I refuse.
Adults of seniority, arent always mature
Bickering, arguing with each other,
Talking over the other
Neither letting either get one word in edgewise
Their bodies mature, years experienced
Yet arrested development has left them
Adult children
The fresh face child who endures struggle
And is given responsibility,
Experiences his growth as man
A man who never has had to struggle and grow
Is stuck in his adolescence,
I'm as honest as the day is long which means
I'm more honest during the longer days of summer
So if I tell you something in the winter
Take it with a grain of salt
There's a good chance I'm hoodwinking you
If you ask me directly, of course I will lie
In the middle of the summertime
I'll be forced to divulge all my past exploits in lurid detail
For I am unable to tell a lie
In the spring and fall it's a fifty-fifty proposition
Maybe I'm lying, maybe I'm not!
Have I totally confused you?
I need to go lie down!
© Jack Ellison 2015
7/31/22
Can't get time back
Regardless if I tip my hat
Going down a different path
I'll leave it at that
No matter if it's been a rotten day
They always got a lot to say
Then towards god they pray
I go my own way and walk away
I overdo it at times I gotta pay
The process is drawn out or occurs andale`
With a quickness
Spreading like a sickness
Always trying to stick their nose in my business
You've no idea, because for you everyday is Christmas
One wrong move, you write me up and give me tickets
Even though you were the only witness
I don't need anyone's forgiveness
Listen, I want to hear the sound of crickets
Own a home and land with a fence made of pickets
Another stupid verbal assault
Trying to make it seem like I'm all at fault
I take it with a grain of salt
Then continue on, such matters can't cause me to halt
As I travel across the asphalt
At night often drinking liquor with or without Malt
He bluffs and she sucks
All these cheap f***s
So surprised when I speak up
It's been ongoing for more than three months
Did you say there's a new baby in your home?
Well that's your replacement if truth be known
You'll raise him up through many trying years
As he becomes a teenager and gives rise to all
your fears
Your advice to him is taken with a grain of salt
of late
Because you're old fashioned and he's up to
date
But revenge is coming when out of the blue
He's got himself married and its his turn for a
replacement too
I even voted for Ross Perot once and Reagan and consider myself a middle of the roader. The biggest problem the Republicans have right now is a lack of experience. Who else has been through all that Hillary has? She has a husband who is a prior President, She has been a first lady of both a governor and President, she has been
a Senator of the Largest state in the United States, she has been a Secretary of State, she gave birth to a child while being a first lady (only one ever to have done such of a thing), has endured and put up with the Monica Lewinsky as well as Whitewater Incident, decided to save government money by putting everything on one cell phone instead of two, suffered every physical and mental embarrassment, prejudice and discrimination that no man has to suffer and after all of that has still decided to run for President again. With all of her education, experience, background and connections, who else could possibly be better than that putting all partisanship aside. That is sure one word that should be thrown in the trash. If you can't say something positive about anything or anyone, why say anything at all? If that was the case, guess we wouldn't have any newspapers or news shows left. Take all of this with a grain of salt be it big, small, crunchy or perfectly clear like Nixon used to say. Right? Oh, and not only that she has over 40 years of governmental experience. Some resume. All of that would make a great poem. Now what form and category should I call all of this?
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Daily Poetry #79, April 18, 2017
Word: Adolescence
If
I am
no longer
here, I want you
to smile for me.
Go and experience
life and everything else that
you could possibly imagine.
Drink merrily, love faithfully, and
most importantly, please live happily.
Take what I’ve taught you with a grain of salt,
Make a dish that savours your life.
With that murmur of time,
that first sound, that I still
remember, continue
walking through life.
Know that I’ll
be with
you.
when I'm an old woman & live on an island somewhere
I'll have dreadlocks & nobody will care
chix will flock at my feet
both feathered and none
sleeping without all of his snoring
and coughing and wheezing
as the tropic breezes blows
away all of those allergy things
growing organic food
taking life with a grain of salt
a slice of lime
a tequila shot
wearing out hammocks
one after another
thumping the bass
howling at the moon
making home brew
flip flop art for the tourists
to take back
no such thing as crime
overlooking the sea
just you and me
and all the things we do
to feel free
your neighbor is your family
sunset building
with nothing else to do
savor rare bottle of wine
to do list- he he ha ha ho ho
beat the drum like the native that you are
sex on the beach night -n- day
exotic plants grow big as houses
wearing shorts on Sunday
puttin' round on the lil Triumph
peace and love
only wannas no gottas
sandcastle champ
solar panel attached to stationary bike
grilling what we catch
check is in the mail
got all the time in the world
trading eggs for a
Bob Marley cigar
every once in a while
observing life between my toes
then being really lazy
during the week
with bare feet
Consuming time is hard
Harder than many people think
Your mind begins to wonder
Pushing boredom to the brink
The brink of disaster
Mind and body begin to work
Motionless your mind moves
Your body begins to hurt
Unsettled and settling
Who can compare between the two
Unfinished buisiness among us
Ten years feeling like two
When will it all end
These Time consuming days
Every year it gets harder
constantly pushing work in my face
Growing old and working
No sleep to one's eye
The feeling of being useless
The feeling of wanting another life
Take lifes cookie
And crumble it as you wish
You take it with a grain of salt
And try and make another dish
Most everything written
(and learned ya in school)
Yukon coon sitter, (and bet
your bottom dollar) tibia bunch
of contrived information
all details bu...bu...bull...low knee
within this poetic missive
after spending a lifetime crunch
ching numbers, the following
singularly just my hunch,
but despite minuscule
approximate i.e. kid size lunch
meal, (sans two clenched fists,
and weighing about 1.5 kilograms),
not much to munch,
yet if smacked in the kisser
by a pugilist visited
square in the jaw deadly (Judy hush
hiss) sucker punch
whereby the unlucky
recipient may see "unlucky stars"
after brows severely scrunched,
thee above poppycock, and potentially
"FAKE" though (Ripley deed lee)
believe able to ye,
nonetheless behooves me
to segue-way (by Segway) to pre
sent a "TRUE" revelation see
(gnome hatter, aye
cheese silly contradict
mice elf alias Stuart Little) prithee
please just accept what I write
with a grain of salt
(from the Sultan Sea),
cuz yawl do yarself grave
injury and lodge a gree
vance against this harmless
right ham handed cree
chore from the outer limits
of the twilight zone, thus
I STRONGLY ADVISE thee,
NOT to stake eh knee
un mensch chin hubble cogitation,
and figuratively swallow,
hook, conga line
and sinker thine highly suspect re
dunk yule us gobbledygook mee
cully (meekly) reed this
more so asthma
childish entertainment, hence oak key
jist put aside any urgent task
to revel as sigh bee
devil logical syntax
with sum man tricks
playfully wasting yar
precious time free
cully (freakily) inventing outlandish nee
incoherent yawping, towering,
and brutally butchering,
Brooklyn speak (homer over
mayor later mother), she
nearly always... er added
letters "er" at'er the ender
her sentences - er stain?