Well here it is another night, or is it day?
It's really hard to tell since they put me here to stay.
Unusually cold I dare say, or so it seems to me.
Oh how I wish that I could be set forever free.
This thing that is lying on me never seems to move at all.
By the length of it I judge it to be mighty tall.
I hear a noise above me a little to the right.
God I wish I had a shiny ray of light.
It must be raing up there, I hear water splashing on the ground.
If only I could move this awful, heavy mound.
Ugh. Here they are agin, those creepy, crawling things.
Boy how I'd fly from this place if I had some wings.
Oh! I smell a lot of freshly picked flowers.
Someone up there is helping me to pass away the hours.
Why was I imprisoned and condemned to this life of being so alone.
Did they have to give this thing to me for a final resting home?
All it does is lie there each day and night, it doesn't even speak.
Oh well, maybe it is just a might to weak.
Still. I can't bear the weight of it on me all the time.
You know, the way they treat us coffins,
is just a shameful crime.
Dam! I had trouble fulfilling what I wanted to do in the previous last hour,
All was going well until a few minutes were left and then it went sour.
69 times I slept with a girl (that’s my zodiac sign)
One that didn’t take the pill
Me bit were looking like a crispy pork roast
And all I got was a multiple dose
Of tv, vd, 3v dvd
So, let me see, what shall I do?
Yes! I’ll put on a mask of Osama Bin Laden
And go on tv and say, “You missed Obama, I’m chillin’ in yo back garden.”
Or walk around naked with my rhino horn exposed to the air
And tell everyone it’s the new Armani swimwear
No! I’ll connect every door in me house with an electrical wire
And watch my wife jump of a change to my every desire
Ooh! I’ll go to the most expensive restaurant and eat my fill
Then pay them for it with a twenty-six dollar bill
Dam! I’m paranoid now, Is it my last hour or everyone else too?
I think I wasted me time so for the last minutes I’ll go to the loo...
My lady friend Mary invited me over one day to have a little ham
So, I put on my big heavy coat and my fur hat and grabed a digital cam
It was late in November and the streets were white with snow
But when Mary invited me over for some ham, I was sure to go
Now I also want to mention that come spring little Mary
Becomes a different person, quite to the contrary
Last spring I asked her, Mary, Mary...(she's hard hearing) "how does your garden
grow?"
Well, she just went sort of weird on me and and replied: "sheeps in the meadow
and cows in the corn"........
I could tell that she was a "Little Girl Blue", so I just went over and for her I did
blow my horn
But after a little while (the ham was gone).. so Jack (me) I was nimble about it and
sort of quick
I turned all of a sudden and just jumped right on over her candle stick
I had my digital camera with me though and did take her picture, but no more talk
And what do you know when I steped outside I ran right into this bean stalk....
Well it was more than I could resist, so I climbed it.... and so it just went on and on
Till it was gone......... And so am I............ Real Gone.........
“I don’t want a computer!” (I vehemently said)
“I’d rather you bought me a TV instead
I’m too old a dog to be learning new tricks
Music and Poetry’s where I get my kicks”
“Megabyte-Schmegabyte, it’s all greek to me
It would bore me to death, now just let me be!”
To make a long story short, I caved in at last
Now to tell you the truth, I’m having a blast!
The first week, I cried and ranted and raved
When I lost all the poems I thought I had saved
“That’s it” I cried and ran out of the house
Vowing never again to pick up the mouse
But the lure of the Web was too much for me
There were so many places for me to see
Game sites, health sites, chat sites galore
But that’s not for me, because I want more!
I look for good books, great music and such
Researching the Classics I love so much
And of course, being a poetry buff
I sit there for hours, typing my stuff
Who said an old dog can’t learn new tricks
I’m in another world with a few quick clicks!
So don’t bother to ring me, or come to call
I’m on the computer just having a ball!
Copyright© Beatrice Boyle For Talkin Technology contest.
(All rights reserved)
Who is that woman
That follows me around
She mimics everything I do
But she doesn't make a sound
She looks somewhat like me
More mature I must confess
Although her hair is grayer
She copies the way I dress!
She only appears in the mirror
Whenever I primp and preen
She's the spitting image of me
Except for the years between
Who is that aging woman
What does she want with me?
She always appears on my birthday
I wish she’d let me be
Now that I am eighty three
I thought I saw a tear
Did I say I'm eighty three?
It couldn’t be THAT year!
I’m still in my prime
Having fun and loving life
Getting into trouble
No worries, strain or strife
It must be HER birthday
We celebrate today
I wish her health and happiness
And good luck along the way
But she's really getting old
What more can I say
Why is she in my mirror?
I just wish she‘d go away!
Copyright©2011 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
I got the S on my chest
Cause I am the best
You wanna come and see
Then follow me, not the rest
I will show you how to rock
Then show you how to roll
I will show you how to get lean & fit
That’s for sho’!
Cause I’m strong, I’m lean
I’m healthy and fit
My hott Beachbody is too legit to quit
I like to do TurboFire, P90X too
Cause Chalene and Tony don’t play me like no fool
Now I’m jumpin and punchin like never before
Then Shaun T’s got me doin pushups on the floor
Now I’m lookin fine
And I’m feelin great
Yes, doin Beachbody has made me lose weight!
And drinkin Shakeology
From day to day
Gives me lots of energy so I can run and play
So don’t mess with me
And my Beachbody crew
Cause we’ll whip you into shape
And you’ll see a new you
Now don’t be scared
Have no fear
We are here to help you
Within the next year
So soon you will see
That YOU are the best
Yes!
Soon you will see
You got the S on YOUR chest!
Peace!
THE POME
I wanted to be famous,
So I thought I`d write a pome,
Somethin`reely spiritchul,
With touching undertones.
Somethin`folks would reed about,
When I`m dead and gone,
And call me poet, artist, bard,
And put it in a tome.
Them great big heavy books folks buy,
And never reely reed;
But if yer in one of them books,
Then folks are all agreed,
That yer the best that ever was,
A reglar Willem Shakespear,
So I set down to write it,
And found that it has took near,
All my time and energy,
To come up with a title,
Let alone the pome itself,
For me this writing`s futile.
Judy Ball
Fergive me Yàll.
I got writer`s block.
I don’t believe there is such a thing as a mirror,
Because this so called reflection is not really me.
I think he is a stranger that moved into my house,
For the man that I see is somewhat, ugly.
I think he built this life size window
To spy on everything that I do
And I can tell you he is beginning pissing me off
I can feel my anger’s starting to brew
Once I moved to the side of the window
And he disappeared out of sight
What I could see a part of his room
Gave me an terrible fright
The bugger’s been to the same shop
And bought the same things I have
The bed, cupboards and lamp shades
And on the table he even has the same Sat. Nav.
I peeped into this window
With the hope to catch him off guard
But there he was looking at me
Staring just as hard
I stood in front of the loser and cussed the most colourful words
The monkey aped every action even the moving of his lips
Then it dawned on me that he wore the same clothes
In the same pose with his hands on his hips
So infuriated, I punched the window
And ended his years of peeping tom jeer
However, the bugger is now haunting me
In every glass I happen to peer
In honesty I must admit
I'm slipping slowly past my prime.
I hadn't noticed lines and shadows
happening to me over time.
Though my memory needed prodding
when I forgot an old friends name,
I told myself I hadn't changed
and still looked very much the same.
But windexing my mirror in
a seizure of fanatic clean
took the forgiving film away,
the hidden changes to unscreen.
I can no loger tell myself
a candid picture of me lies.
I must accept as fact the face
I had refused to recognize.
A glass of wine helps me to relax.
My inhibitions become quite lax
But after three or four
You'll find me on the floor,
So out of it I could sleep on tacks.
“Tweedle, my dear, are you Dee or Dum?”
“I’m neither Dum nor Dee, but Doo, you see”
“I’ve never heard of Doo; of the Tweedles that is”
“Well I’m Doo, and I do say so to you”
“For I am the third offspring of the Tweedles
I don’t like needles or crunchy beetles
Though I do like toffee much better than coffee
And I love to scuba while playing the tuba”
“The twins, Dum and Dee, often forget about me
They are like one mind, body, and soul you see
They tease as they please and cause me to sneeze
With tricks up their sleeves, they don’t eat their peas”
“No stories of me you’ll ever read
Yes, indeed, I am the bad seed in need
Of a normal home, a pocket comb, a friend that is
not a garden gnome
To love me is easy, not cheesy or leaving you
feeling queasy”
“Dee and Dum had their fifteen minutes of fame
Now my name, Tweedle the same, I’ve got no shame
This Tweedle Doo begs of you, not to bid him an adieu
I am yours, open your doors, I promise not to snore”
“I am never Dum or Dee, just me
Little brother Doo wants to come home with you
I’ll always be a Tweedle who doesn’t like needles
But love you forever this younger Doo will do”
Breathing in than breathing faster,
A perfect disaster this life of mine.
I need a drink while I'm still here waiting,
For this to all to be over and I'll be home.
To sit by myself and think for a second
Turning into minutes and now hours long.
I turn on the T.V. just clear the silence,
But just like always there is nothing on.
Except for the news, but thats so depressing,
And the weather man is always wrong.
I lift up my voice to clear out the ghost,
With a voodoo doll and my imported monkey gong.
It's pretty and gold, red trimming and swirls,
My own ancient chinese secret hex reverse curse.
It says ring it once and bow to the east,
Than read the inscription its in cantonese.
If I follow these simple directions my demons will be driven,
But unfortunately my ghost only seem to speak english.
Than they complimented me on efforts with a nice try,
A pat on my back and even said to me good night.
A Collection of Oxymorons
By Elton Camp
When contradictory terms appear side-by-side,
We recognize that an oxymoron the writer tried
An “Open secret” really can’t be
“Larger half” is an impossibility
“Act naturally” just has to be fake
“Deafening silence” sense can’t make
“Microsoft Works” is just a big joke
But Apple users won’t have to choke
“Jumbo shrimp” would be something to see
“Pretty ugly” seems highly unlikely to me
“Exact estimate” contradict each other
To defend “rolling stop” I had druther
“Only choice” means one thing to do
So how can “choice” then be true?
Think about meaning of a “fine mess”
That’s it’s contradictory you will confess
So two things have “about equal” worth?
It’d be like a “just war” here on the earth
“One of the only” we hear all of the time
“Accurate horoscope” so says a ball of slime
A “bankrupt millionaire” can’t really exist
A “calm storm” would be too easily missed
If your favorite oxymoron doesn’t appear,
Please send me an e-mail and let me hear
GROUPER GROPER
My god is this ocean getting crowded or what?
Time was I could swim here for days and spot
Not even another Goliath Grouper
Now I can’t even see - it’s like fog - a pea-souper
Because of all these pesky tiny fish.
Do they have no homes to go to? I wish !
It’s me or them - so I’ll have to attack
I might get a few but it won’t scare off the whole pack.
But oh oh, who’s this guy I see with the camera?
Looks like some semi-aquatic chimera
Man he’s sexy - check those flippers - woweee!
And the single big glassy eye - Oh god, he reminds me of me!
Think I’m falling in love. Better switch to my camera-smile.
This down-frown mouth probably ain’t his style.
He’s no Grouper - but he’s the best I’ve seen in a while
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Written for Carolyn Devonshire's Contest "Attack!"
My whole life consists of games, yet I have no face.
Kings and Queens get all the love, plus some guys named Ace.
In the middle of the deck, just another guy.
I’m a common number; it nearly makes me cry!
Shuffled and reshuffled, I feel so unwanted,
but there’s one occasion when I’m always flaunted. . . .
Holding me, they wait their turn until finally,
When no other card will do, happily they play me!
Then they call me crazy, though. I can’t understand
how I’m nuts if I am the best card in their hand!
But it feels so good just to hear them say,
“Crazy Eight” with so much glee,for I save the day.
Guess I’ll have to be content with my crazy nickname,
for at least at those few time, I can taste of fame.
For Paula Swanson's Contest: "Pick a Card, Any Card"
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