Golf loving Paddy from sunny Glambole
was truly a gentle fun-loving soul
but he was a big bloke,
he took a well-aimed stroke
Sara the caddy yelled "wrong hole, wrong hole”
a fashion statement
frilly and prissy
Mary Kay lipstick
fifty-nine caddy
sneaky pink panther
ruffles and lace
babe reveal
wedding color
Barbie dream house
prom dresses
feminine
Barbie car
toddler
baby
pink
Chad, a lopsided bird had a shoulder that popped up
The other one held him down when he went to sup
Why am I so asymmetrical? He asked his birdy daddy.
No idea, his dad said. Want to be my caddy?
His dad was a golfer, and symmetrical too.
His mother was teensy lopsided, her name was Lu.
His sister was symmetrical like their dad.
I guess I could carry your clubs, said lopsided Chad.
she was the victim of amplified suicide
what does that mean? I asked Detective McBride
She tried to hang herself first, he rapidly replied
But the knot in the rope had become untied
She took fifty-nine pills from a bottle
which explains why her skin has a bit of a mottle
she finally crashed her caddy into a bridge
in the next county over, by Strawberry ridge
How do you know it wasn’t an accident? I dared to ask.
The sixty-two-page suicide note next to her aluminum flask.
amplified suicide was a strange and new term to me.
But now a concept that I finally could see.
I don’t dream often, but I dream of Jeanie,
the only one who ever touched my Nadi.
I met her bathing in the Irrawaddy.
You’d classify her as an in-betweenie,
but looking pretty hot in that bikini!
She got me going when she called me ‘daddy’!
Jean self-identified as “thorough baddie,”
but never let me see her Kundalini.
I couldn’t leave her working in that paddy,
so whisked her off to Venice. Like Houdini,
she made the transformation: loved linguini:
but part-time jobs (a waiter, then a caddy)
meant I could not afford her. One bellini
cost forty bucks! Forget the Lamborghini!
Winnie learned all about fixing motors from her daddy.
She had tuned up six Fords, two Chevys and a Caddy.
Daddy got her a jalopy of her own when she was sixteen.
She took it all apart, so it would be oiled up and clean.
Labelled the parts as they came out one by one.
Winnie’s mother threw up her hands. Said “this is no fun!”
Her daddy was delighted, and excited to see his girl enjoy….
Her first car ever; which she treated like her favorite toy.
Sue’s nine-year-old husky Blue wanted to drive
she laughed and said “not while I’m alive!”
The next time I saw them, he was in her lap.
Driving her Caddy; she said “I am such a sap!”
Her children have all bested her in many ways too.
A really weak sister is my neighbor Sue.
His spine curves right, then left
one shoulder lower than another
A hitch and a wobble in his gait
couple shots of whiskey tempt fate
A caddy, he calls himself a ‘pro jock’
follows the sun to work year-round
Wows the young jocks with mythical tales of the (PGA) tour
~ though his liver will rot before long, that’s for sure
_______________________________________
A 'caddy' carries a heavy bag (or two!) of golf
clubs (usually) on one shoulder, traversing a
golf course of four or more miles.
PGA = Professional Golfers Association
bizarre stuff
in fact, she'd never visited a golf course before
in fact, as i took my daughter to the clubhouse toilet
i held the door open for her
the contents of the coffee was
all over the floor
i hit my tee shot against the trees
and the ball ricocheted back onto the fairway
'Good shot!' my mother yelled
there was a lot of top of the lungs stuff
MASHED POTATOES
i shanked it
mammy chops and bunkers like thunder thighs
my daughter wants to sleep in a bunker
i want to throw my clubs in the lake
worm burners
and municipal memories
this was meant to be a love sonnet
i'll be your caddy
i love you flagstick
No longer in the workforce
big changes to my ways,
not something I am use to
my life, a brand new phase.
Lots of time, but no money,
a tricky lifestyle maze
the months, they change, seem swiftly
in my sedentary haze.
Must look for a solution
perhaps some games to play
as hours pass, they're fleeting,
my pill caddy tracks the days!
I miss Saturday mornings with Soul Train,
When brothers and sisters would take a ride to release their pain.
I miss Momma's twice-baked sweet potato pie.
She didn't have a recipe; she just baked with love, so she didn't have to try.
I miss long rides with Daddy in that 'Caddy' with all the windows down with some nice blues.
Just riding and nodding and Daddy telling me, "Son, whenever you try, you can never lose."
I miss the rapturous feeling of asking a pretty girl for her hand for a dance.
To feel her feminine embrace and to cherish a moment of chance.
From time to time I sit and reminisce.
Such lovely thoughts, images, and sounds I sorely miss.
we’re in France
fantasy France
good ball
I like France
hand wobble
your the champ
I’m your Caddy
good ball
It’s DuChamp
Cause we’re in France
Call me Caddy DuChamp…..
I TURNED OFF MY MOBILE
AND LEFT IT AT HOME.
I WAS FEELING SO FREE
I STARTED TO ROAM.
SIXTY FIVE CADDY
WITH NO TRACKING DEVICE
OUT ON THE ROAD
AND IT REALLY FEELS NICE.
WORLD SURVEILLANCE
WHEN WE LOOK ALL AROUND.
TRACKING YOUR MOVEMENTS
AND EVEN YOUR SOUNDS.
SO HERE I AM
JUST OFF SORE FINGER ROAD.
LOVING LIFE
AND PANNING FOR GOLD.
HIGH IN THE DESERT
BLUE SKIES AND CLEAR.
NOTHING IS CLOSE
AND NO ONE IS NEAR.
IN NATURE I HEAR
WILD FLOWERS RINGING.
SMALL BIRDS IN THE BRUSH
PLAYING AND SINGING.
THE HOT DESERT SUN
IS HEATING THE GROUND.
SHINING ITS TERROR
ON ALL THAT'S AROUND.
WITH TIME MOVING SLOWLY
EXTENDING ITS ARM.
NO NEED TO BE WORRIED
AND NO NEED FOR ALARM.
WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN
STARS INFLUENCED THE VIEW.
SHARING PERSPECTIVE
OF THE OLD WITH THE NEW.
BEYOND MILLIONS OF LIGHT YEARS
ETERNITY KNOWS.
TIME CAN BE CAPTURED.
NEVER THE SOUL.
Michael E.HARRIS
02172022
three ducks paddling
300 yards, dogleg left
……..no short game
a feral cat
digging in the sand trap
……..replacing divots
an old dog
lays on the first tee
………..licking his balls
the golf ball smiled
the golfer slammed his club
……the caddy smiled back
he addressed the ball
not knowing where it would go
……no return address
a blind approach shot
swinging from the hips
………a gaggle of geese
the nineteenth hole
burgers, fries, beers and BS
………lies about lies
John G. Lawless
©2/20/2022
I climb in Suzanne,
She ain't no hippy van,
She's rusty and forgotten
Her soul is slightly rotten
But I believe she's grand.
I turn the key and roar her
Then I beg her like a schnorrer
Won't you let me live inside you
If not own you then to ride you
With life becoming more.
They tell me you're a clunker
And a worn out useless junker
I want you fixed and waxed
With my refund income tax
And life will be so good.
Sleeping in the back
Of my rusty Cadillac
She promises me a meal
in Gorst's finest diner
And a ride o'er the sea
to a place she loves in China
And that's the way to feel.
But I died asphyxiated
From this life liberated
When Suzanne turned herself on
Ran exhaust until the air's gone
And I smiled in my sleep
Eternal and so deep
For only Death is real.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.