You'll always have a special place
A home inside my heart
It's comfy, cozy, warm and snug
There's music and there's art
There's wooden floors and throw rugs
There's mountain views and streams
There's coffee pots in every room
And exercise machines
It's spacious, open, airy
There's flowers all year long
Lilacs mostly, every shade
They're all yours for a song
The only thing that's missing
Is you, you'd make it fun
This home inside my heart was made
For me to live plus one
I'm just an artsy troubadour
Who writes down all his dreams
And dream of you, oh yeah I do
In many ways and means
Now getting back to business
If you do stop by
The key is hidden in a box
Just look for the butterfly
It's painted on the box top
Under the willow tree
And when you open up the lid
There's two more things you'll see:
1. A deed with your name on it
The home is yours and mine
2. A picture of my new tattoo
Your name inside a vine
You may be wondering where I am
And how come I'm not there
I ran real quick to Nashville
To buy a smaller chair
~ To the tune of 'Let it Snow' ~
The weather inside's romantic
our ocean-liner across the Atlantic
Perhaps outside the storm is howling
on the couch this cat is me-owing
Who cares if this ship's gonna sink
It's just a flick ~ I'll pour you a drink
_________________________________
Just in case, a gentle reminder: 'The
Chairman of the Board' is Frank Sinatra.
We all know when to find it:
The time guests ate to down sit
And host cleans chairs not a bit,
Careless cleaners sometimes hit,
A move to have their throats slit
Or sure make their teeth they grit…
When it’s windy, streets dusty,
Not-paid maid with tasks rusty;
Rooms by owners left for long,
The ones used by the not strong…
Dusty chair not for chairman:
She’d curse you: a chairman;
Faster cleaning for respect
Of all acts one she’d expect…
Dust-laden chairs backsides paint:
If they’re women’s they will faint.
You're facing a gun complete with barrels
And of all things with firm holder quarrels!
Chairman Mao would have laughed at you
And kept repeating "No... No it's not true!"
I guess, definitely, in their Chinese,
Even if you had been a Taiwanese,
"Why don't you reserve games of Squirrel!"
If you were English and your name Darrell...
I have a cursory look given Mao
And the result - no schemed insult - but "Waow"
A long braving of the unpopular,
For it finding pillars; new formula:
One might fully own one's shirts and trousers,
For private accounts there shall be browsers,
One's country first but not like Kennedy's
Often voiced by takers of Cannabis...
For their foes communism the hammer!
I knew he'd said so not a slight stammer
To Tito on the same ideas feeder
Chairman was China's outstanding leaders
Mao's last words: take your time don't be anxious
A good advice but not for something vicious.
John Fred had been a nice chairman,
Able to Union's Machine man:
John Fred: Your Excellent Buddy,
For years your preferred study;
Lots of quotes from his speeches
His Firmness Ideas he preaches,
Until David saw Bathsheba
With the glamour of Queen Sheba
Out dashing like a Mad Vandal
After lust and winning scandal...
Yet, raise you not hopeless matter
You shan't Chairman's image batter
His prized life show you could scatter
His as much prized wife's heart clatter.
They all know the capacity
He’s enjoying in their city,
His hurting voice at its loudest;
Body movements of the proudest,
Powered by his swell bank account;
Many swear he does billions count;
Yes, his pay slips on a table
And No Normal remained stable…
Yet, it has been Trickles from him;
If you grab his dime, sing a hymn!
His criticisms breed like flies,
His smiles included in his lies…
Who ever turned A True Sponsor
That would Helping Dollars censor?
Now for ‘Chairman’ dreams not of bars
But this shall be rather in Mars,
Voters dead sure that no miser
On money matters got wiser.
A place to call home
A field in which to roam
A hundred and fifteen reasons
As many Christmas seasons
We are justifiably proud
To be one of the crowd
Come rain or sunshine
We are just fine
Under lockdown, our spirits soar
To toast each other, once more
As,our illustrious past Chairs, we praise
To Chairman, John, our glasses we raise
After the riot-
With Chairman Wuhan swirling around his head.
President Trump, with a Bible in hand,
strolled from the embattled white house
toward a smoldering church.
Quoted some apocalyptic verse.
Then cussed out the press...
For the first time in seventeen years
The cicadas were snickering
They were not in the least bit impressed.
Dear Chairman:
It is the eleventh hour, Mr. Eleven,
nearest possible time ere it's too late.
Best days done, this is no seventh heaven.
Time will tell, will you become Xi, the Great?
May 23, 2020
contest: XI Poetry
sponsor: Anthony Slausin
Snow, mountains, white horse
Flop side to side, bounce and flop
Majestic bumbling king
Chairman of the Bored 13
life can be a bore
…if you snore...
live and don’t ignore.
5/3/5
Syllables
June.15.2018
MagiCicada 13
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy
The tiger pounced,
Arrived unannounced,
She's Chairman Meow,
Don't know how,
Here anyway,
What to say?
Fine thinking woman this,
Doesn't take any blip,
A femme of self-esteem,
A misogynist's dream!
All dance to her tune,
Is this a tiger moon?
"Yes, dear," men reply,
I only look and sigh,
Why can't I be like that?
Training men--old hat?
Really don't know how,
She's Chairman Meow.
My Little Green Propelling Pencil.
I was only a child when you were given to me,
By the then, Chairman of Nottingham Forest, When he came round for a cup of tea.
Harold Wrigley Alcock was his name.
Nottingham Forest football team was his game.
The year was nineteen fifty nine.
Forest were doing fantastic at this time.
He also was the owner of the Bridgford Wine Stores on Melton Road in West
Bridgford.
Where both my parents worked, my sister and I were often in the back room,we
were never bored.
He came round to our house every Sunday morning the books to do.
We lived on Exchange Road number one hundred and twenty two.
He often brought us gifts when he went abroard.
We just went to Skeggy in our little old Ford.
He took us as a family to Forest ground.
We watched the game from the V. I. P. box, the excitement the sounds.
As a child this was all mind blowing.
The excitement was truly flowing.
Now fifty years later this all came flooding back to me.
While clearing out a cupboard I found my little green propelling pencil. Given to me
by he.
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