Best Workold Poems
As you sit down for your tea, take a moment to think of me
I am the one who leaves the quay, to bring home harvest from the sea
Lobster pot and fishing creel, Dover sole and jellied eel
Biting wind and roaring gale, I risk it all when I set sail
The quota’s nearly done for me, too many a catch thrown back to sea
The jobs-worth from the ministry, care’s nothing for my misery
Lobster pot and fishing creel, Dover sole and jellied eel
Biting wind and roaring gale, I risk it all when I set sail
The sea cares nothing for my fate, the ebbing tide will never wait
There’s not enough to fill a crate, as I battle Neptune to fill your plate
Lobster pot and fishing creel, Dover sole and jellied eel
Biting wind and roaring gale, I risk it all when I set sail
When deep-sea fish no longer spawn, when my rusty old trawler has been withdrawn
When fishermen are no longer born and the old Sowester’s no longer worn
Lobster pot and fishing creel, Dover sole and jellied eel
I trawl the waves from dusk ‘til dawn; there’ll be no fish cakes when I am gone!
Goodbye old friend it is time to go
Now that spring has melted the snow
The sunlight and rain brought freshness again
So it is time for spring cleaning to begin
It seems each year it is out with the old
Many things at a yard sale to be sold
Pots, pans, old clothes, shoes, and hats
Trinkets, tools, and a little of this and that
Someone will buy you and take you home
They will cherish you as their very own
Your time is only finished here and now
You’ll have a good life out there somehow
I don’t know what I’ll do now it’s true
I’m not sure I can live without you
Maybe with some fixing and a bit of a shine
I can make you last just a little more time
I think I will keep you just one more year
I would miss you too much, I see it so clear
This is the same thing I said last year
So we can’t tell my husband he can never hear
He’d never understand I’m not a pack rat
But let’s see him part with his cracked ball bat
So it looks like you’re safe right where you are at
But next year, well… I’ll think about that!
A simple man, I don‘t need much, I use few words; I’m Joe.
I once framed houses, now drive trucks. That’s all you need to know.
I love my wife and think she’s great, but one thing I can’t stand
She’s got so many things that it is getting out of hand.
Last month I hauled out all her * #^%$ and tossed it on the floor
of our garage because I could not take it any more.
When she came home and saw the mess, I told her: Listen up,
Your clothes take up three closets cause you’re such a cluster * %$#$#
I don’t care if the kids are gone. You don’t need their old space
to keep old clothes that do not fit and shoes such a disgrace.
The kitchen drawers are stuffed with junk that you don’t even use.
You have to clear the cupboards out before I blow a fuse!
I’ve taken all your Christmas crap and boxed it up for you.
It’s now in the garage there with your filing cabinet too.
These books and all the videos you never even play -
We’ll buy more bookshelves for them but throw a lot away!
You’re right. I never help to clean. but I feel too depressed
to wash clothes in the laundry room when I see all the mess. . .
the gifts stockpiled for grandkids; and that junk for holidays . . .
It’s got to be made orderly. Who needs it anyways?
I’m trying to be nice here. It doesn’t have to be
done all at once, but all this stuff. . .I feel like I can’t breathe.
I’m cleaning up my work spaces and then when I am through,
I’m going to redo the porch and uproot bushes too.
That sink we needed to replace I’m finally putting in.
I’m getting a new ceiling fan and also storage bins.
You poets here, this poem I post to keep you in the loop.
My wife can’t be here much this month at this here Poetry Soup.
I know she’ll come here anyway and say that I’m a louse,
but I won’t rest until we both have finished cleaning house!
* These are the expletives I had to take
out before posting because wifey said they don’t
accept swearing here. What a sissy site
For Nathan Dilt's contest: The Opposite Sex
and now for Destroyer~Poet's In the Mood * any poem goes Poetry Contest
John Wayne movies have been a thing of mine,
But my "Top Ten" I think divine.
"Rio Bravo" as number one I rate,
The "Duke" and the cast were just great.
"The Searchers" is a close number two,
His unique portrayal of a troubled character so true.
"The Quiet Man" is next in line,
I have to see it, come St. Patty's time.
Number Four would be "True Grit"
He won an "Oscar" for his role in it.
At number five is "The Shootist" for me,
The old gunfighter facing personal tragedy.
"Red River" comes in sixth I'd say,
From young man to old in less than a day.
Seventh to "The Sands of Iwo Jima" would go,
A reminder of the sacrifices our parents would know.
"The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence" comes in number eight,
"Tom Donovan", a portrayal of values and love just great.
"North To Alaska" forget I would not dare,
The role he played with such comic flare.
"They Were Expendable" rounds out my ten,
The action and heroism portrayed then.
But I have to admit that this ten was hard to come by,
As he made so many great films...to my minds eye.
"Wings of Eagles", "In Harm's Way", "The Commancheros" all are there,
Not to mention "She Wore A Yellow Ribbon" would not be fair.
Let's not forget his breaktrough role in "Stagecoach" when
John Ford picked him to be one of his "Top Ten".
Oh, I could go on and on about the movies he made,
But it was the American character that he displayed.
Maybe that's what is missing from our lives today,
A man that will stand for something, and lives as he'd say.
As movies for us are but a relief,
Especially in these times of grief.
"The Duke" was a man who lived life and the American Dream,
A dream that he captured, time and again on the "Silver Screen".
Been all over this map, from dot to dot
Red and blue lines, like his old tired eyes
Running late up and down every interstate
It is a living, like it or not
Another truck stop, burger and a order of fries
Rather hauling cattle or packing freight
A long haul from Laredo to San Pancho
"Dead heading", from there to God knows where
Flirting with a truck stop Cutie, a hot cup of coffee
"Sure Babe, make it to go"
Millions of white lines and little prayer
The country, he is getting to see
Over weight, got to dodge the scales
Chain up in Bozeman, slip and slide to "The Mile High City"
Maybe there will be another load
"Black Ice" everywhere, white knuckle driving, biting his nail
Co-pilots, little white pills with no pity
"I need to get off this damn old road"
Blow into "The Windy City" then on to Fargo
Half a tank of fuel, it is freezing in this old "Pete"
Wind a blowing fifty or more, drifting snow four foot deep
Driving all night, nothing but snow
Frozen to the core, no sign of any heat
He is a road runner...Beep Beep
San Pancho is Mexican border slang for San Francisco?