Jerry was an evel knievel without the evil part.
But he definitely was a child with a daredevil’s heart.
Get the picture! He would yell as he did flips, flops and other stuff.
He proved all the time that he was reckless and amazingly rough.
Get the picture! He would yell, even when upside down.
We liked everything about him, even though he was a bit of a clown.
I expected him to yell “Did you get the picture?” one day.
But his antics had broken his neck, so he lay in the clay.
Categories:
knievel, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Take a chance the new employee said; the entire room laughed.
She is the Evel Knievel of our company, someone informed him.
As a newcomer, he was arrogant and a tad bit mean.
He never got to meet the real me, so he never knew.
I take a chance every opportunity that comes my way.
I am the one who invests in the craziest things imaginable.
I stick my neck out, daring the guillotine to come down.
If he had not been so pompous, he might have gotten to know me.
But he was a misogamist, and I have no room for these people.
So I did not get to know him and he did not get to know me.
He is really great once you get to know him, someone told me.
Additional proof that she is the worst judge of character I know.
Categories:
knievel, work,
Form: Prose Poetry
Some say money is the root of all evil
I believe it is taking unnecessary risks
Let’s ask Evel Knievel!
Written August 9, 2021
Categories:
knievel, adventure, money, scary, stress,
Form: Free verse
Down the highway shes all lock up
Got a bear at my back door
Just dropped off in shady town
Heading down the big slab I-5
Need to get some go go juice
10-4 it was my travel agent
Just passed 32 yard stick with bull dog
He was skateboarding down the road
Drove over an alligator flipped over
My hundred mile coffee
Chicken Coop coming up
Turning on my chicken lights
Filling out my comic book
Two wheeler Evil Knievel parked on the side
Wipin her feet through the snow
Stay loaded go daddy go
" My Sons Truck"
Categories:
knievel, son,
Form: Free verse
If my bike sails through evil,… there is little doubt I’m Knievel
If I Am A Super Heroine-Hero Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Burl
August 28, 2020
Categories:
knievel, evil, hero, humor,
Form: Monoku
I'm at Dunkin Donuts dunking a donut,
for the experience.
Letting my memories pass through me.
Not repressing any of them.
I'm pretending to be a scientist
of the mind.
It's not fun though.
Makes you glad spreadsheets have functions!
Somewhere in the donut crumbs
stirring around in my coffee
is a hidden key to the messages in my head.
There must be a rhythm to all
the misunderstandings and misapprehensions.
But just as soon as I think I've found some answers
a damn truck drives buy and vibrates the windows and the tables and distracts me,
or some saucy ass walks by on the street.
Maybe I should go somewhere else.
No, damn it, I should be able to do this here.
The answers are wrapped in the distractions
now that I think about it.
They are everywhere.
Doesn't matter where I go.
Focus.
Don't focus.
Balance the two.
I'm Evel Knievel of the mind!
Maybe I'll look for a job today.
I should stay here and keep at this though.
I'm on the verge of something.
I know it.
Categories:
knievel, confusion, psychological,
Form: Free verse
Sitting with Joseph
playing video games
he stated "Thats what
I want to do when I get older"
talking about the jumps
they made on the bikes
of the video game
a little dare devil waiting to grow
yet never do they have a plan
where do you get
the money for the bike
perhaps you should
train up to be a machanic
that way you'd have a wage
to buy the bike
and have the knowledge
to fix the bikes
Joseph was the type of kid
that was going to be successful
didn't really want to see him
as an Evel Knievel
breaking legs and spines
I like to see him healthy
as the years and time went by
Kids will have their dreams
but need plans to make them grow
connect with education
and perhaps the seeds you sow
Categories:
knievel, career, child,
Form: Narrative
My stomach recoils as we
lumber up, sending
raison bran and apple juice
up my throat for an encore.
As the brakes whine, so
does my memory, tossing
advice from the base of
experience to flee, to
fake illness or just climb
to the top of the bus and
swan dive into a ravine,
breaking more bones than
Evel Knievel after he
jumped the fountain at
Caesar’s Palace while
wearing patriotic colors.
I get slugged in the
shoulder, sending the
book in my hand
soaring five seats ahead.
With a sigh, I reach
to understand why
so much glory gets
offered to bullies.
Categories:
knievel, childhood
Form: Free verse