Long Good riddance Poems
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If time could rewind,
Then I'd fail my med school exam,
So no pain of being a doctor will ever be.
You need to be one to understand.
For I'd be relieved of long hours on call,
With no sleep, no rest, not even a doze,
Yet fresh work must begin the next day,
As if my bed took all my sedatives.
Legs struck with cramps during surgeries,
Eyes drained of vigour from restrained sleep,
Yet the brain must stay most alert,
Else their wigs and suits will bleed your pockets dry.
Work is done in currencies spent in dreams,
Rewards are paid in miserable coins to bank accounts,
Teachers frown at late school fees,
Landlords wave quit notices for overdue rent.
When the body begins to complain,
And mistakes seal up excellent procedures,
In their wigs and gowns they will order,
“Cease his license; he’s not capable.”
Yet the bed sheet that wrapped many years in emptiness,
Will now be used to soak tears for the rest of the years,
And on their lips will rest the cruel words:
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Your life is lived without fun,
Yet those in the so called noble profession lie in wait,
To milk dry twenty-five years of hard work with pain,
By then, grey hairs would have weakened the brain.
So what use are those years of heads buried in books,
When it's in dullard's pockets money is minted,
While you work as if work was yours alone,
So, time, can you go back to that med school exam, please?
Take your stethoscope, give me peace in its stead.
Beautiful downtown Atlanta
Sunny, blue, cloudless sky
Tall, wide, massive buildings
Window glass glistening in the sun
Beautiful, well-dressed people
Gainfully employed people
Taking care of business people
Running essential errands
Contributing to the community
Pursuing positive, purposeful lives.
I take in the sights, sounds, smells
Sounds of people walking, talking
Engines revving and car horns honking
Smells of restaurants and fast food vendors
Engine exhaust and overheated brakes
Feel of the sidewalk
Under my expensive dress shoes
Heat of the sun on my face and neck
Exciting hustle and bustle
Of a thriving metropolis.
A faint, “Please, sir …” reaches my ears
And a homeless man appears
Dirty, disheveled, hirsute
“Please, sir, could you …”
I divert my eyes, quicken my pace
Ignoring his petty pleas
His weak speech trails off
As he disappears in my wake
Bothersome soul, good riddance!
Why doesn’t the city do something?
Days later the encounter troubled me
I was so proud of the way I handled myself
How easy it is to dismiss a soul in need
Months later the encounter tormented me
Instead of the clever human I thought I was
I had become unfeeling, unkind, uncaring
Years later the encounter still haunts me
Never will it ever happen again
Never … ever …
Joseph Robinette Biden
now commander in chief yay
manning ship of state
tossing anchors aweigh
heavily pierced tattooed
donning sheepish pirate(s)
at heady roiling waterway
fending off trolling rapscallion
much more thrilling
than watching cabaret
January twenty first two thousand
twenty one marks his first full day
wherein Oval Office finally
flushed, ousted, and zapped,
whose paternal ancestry
begat genealogical linkedin émigré
name unknown, nevertheless
one Johann Trump born within
Bobenheim am Berg, a village
in Palatinate, Germany circa 1789
moved to nearby village of Kallstadt
where his grandson, Friedrich Trump,
the grandfather of Donald Trump,
born in 1869 gamboled
upon grassy fairway
whereby grandson notorious
to grandstand and gainsay,
but especially renowned
windblown coiffure
kept intact courtesy "fake" hairspray
said product he did fulminate
against and inveigh,
cuz he envied (as does yours truly)
the trademark thatch sported by J.F.K.
At long last, a stalwart adept candidate
unwittingly saddled
with onerous figurative freight
COVID-19, homelessness, joblessness
sober statistics impossible mission to inflate,
whose physique slender and lightweight
boot pulleys and levers of power
he quite savvily can operate
personable and suave demeanor doth resonate
allowing, enabling, and providing
law and order to materialize,
and accomplishments downplayed
(unlike previous commander in chief)
whose braggadocio would never underrate.
Concern still prevails
regarding that woman user
egging fascistic paramilitary
white supremacist ilk
twittering as a digital schmoozer
hell bent on sowing anarchy,
cuz other Democratic contestant
did not defeat
soured at prospect their man beat
(him - who shall not be named again
ranks as a sore loser)
nevertheless, an oafish shill bruiser.
If prognostications allowed me,
at bedtime, when a supine American,
one garden variety and generic
sleepy Joe among madding crowd
will experience glee
at prospective buoyancy, decency,
fraternity, harmony, jollity, levity,
nobility, prosperity, serenity, tranquility...
wishing no ill will toward
former forty sixth president.
Mona Lisa
Love is black, so was she.
I have regrets at not asking, but it was never gonna be.
If we dared to love, we would have broken apart,
The truest form of feeling good.
Memories I hold.
I paint their picture like a masterpiece.
It’s starting to look old.
People come and people go.
It’s the stories they tell you that you keep in your soul.
From the first to the last,
I can see love in all its glory,
But the past is the past.
Friends with Wifey...not likely.
The simple truth of the matter is she was nothing like me.
Friend’s with benefits while on the benefit.
Women need money for pleasure
And we were just the poor kids.
Then there are those who went away.
We will all reach our end regretting thing’s we didn’t say.
So there it is. What do you think?
It’s the first thing I’ve written in what feels like years.
I found my demon’s amongst the angel’s, once more,
So I can start writing again now I can pour out my soul.
If it’s garbage, so what.
You are gone.
Good riddance to you all you made me lose the plot.
Now I’m sane again.
I won’t go through what I did.
You are not worth the pain.
I’m happy, with me.
I’m not half of what I was,
But I am free.
Long hair is gone, so is my six pack.
If that’s the price of getting old, then that’s ok,
I don’t want my youthful mind back.
I am old, but I’m ok.
I know one day I will not be here,
But I don’t fear my grave.
Who cares if one more light goes out?
I can rest at last.
I’ve been working on working hard as a matter of fact.
I’ve got some cash to splash.
I think I’ll buy whatever I want.
You are still poor if you still need that.
Your drug of choice is various boys.
Now I’m an old man, you don’t want me
And I am happy with your choice.
You gave me stories not love.
I thought you’d broken my heart,
But in fact you gave me a voice.
I can speak...see?
I can see through all your lies,
Now you’re not next to me.
(C)2024 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Goodbye cruel world!
I won't miss you when you are gone.
I'm looking for a better place,
Where I feel like I belong.
Goodbye cruel world!
I'm not sorry you have to go.
I'm looking for the time,
when only love and peace will grow
Goodbye cruel world!
I won't miss all of your violence.
When finally joy reigns supreme,
And all hatred will be silenced.
Goodbye cruel world!
Good riddance to all your badness.
There is an end in sight,
to all mourning, pain and sadness
Goodbye cruel world!
So long to you and your ruler.
Be happy your judgement day,
doesn't come any sooner.
Goodbye cruel world!
I won't miss your evil ways.
God's Kingdom is at hand,
His new world is here to stay.
John Derek Hamilton December 08,2014
Who are You that I have to fear You?
Who are You that I have to love You?
Who are You that I can't just do anything I feel like
and have You telling me what not to do?
Who are You that You can say anything you feel like and it comes to pass
- Whether it is good or bad?
Who are You that You can create or destroy?
Who are You that for a time being that we know You and know You no more?
Is this a case?
Well I just made a boo boo
I messed up
I did the impossible, incredible
I went over your wishes
And not listened to You
Are You still in love with me
and call me the one?
Or do You just take off and go?
I am testing You, God
I want to see if You say what You do
and your love is unconditional
I don't want to please You any more
It is a trying process
I want to see if You packed up and left
That would serve me right
That would serve You right too
'Cause I don't need You
Good riddance
Or is it?
My muse is gone,
good riddance to the witch
And don’t come back,
you extraneous lil b’itch
Off to prey on others,
pour napalm on their souls
Sublimate good poetry,
burn stanzas full of holes
Infiltrate kind minds,
corrupt joyous prayer
Tear apart covenants,
seed corrugated despair
Yeah my muse is gone,
in search of new hosts
To spread vile poison,
through every new post
I’m an angel once again,
deliverance fills each line
A paragon for good,
no more evil rhymes
Champion of the soup,
clear broth I’ll deliver
Served with fava beans,
Chianti, and my muses liver
# Her name is Clarice #
By
David Kavanagh
What good would it do to have everything
And you have nothing
You can never claim anything as your own
Because anything is owned by God
Your friends, your possessions, the people that you love
You don't have nothing
God determines it like that
When you don't have nothing
That is when you have everything
Am I talking in jumbles?
Why does God want it like that?
Why does He want you to jump a lot of hoops
Only to the end to leave everything
He is nuts!
That is all I can say
Kidding aside God
Forgive me but there is no logical reason
for what You say
for what You do
And I don't want to think of it
As You are going to do something else anyway
No one can figure it out, You out
And I gave up trying
I like things the way they are
You say - NOT
Okay I don't like the ways things are
You say.....what?
(My ears perked up listening to You)
He knows when I don't mean it
There is no way getting around You
I gave up
You got it God
Whatever You want
Whatever You say
I don't careeeeeeeeeeeeee
Lol
I do care
That is the problem! Lol
I need Your love
I need Your forgiveness
I need Your guidance
And to be my “good riddance”
Your love is not unstable
Your love isn’t a broken cable
I need Your love more than ever
I need it for the better, for the better, for the better
I regret everything…yes, I do
Yet, I look to You still…I’m such a pill…
I bet any prayer will do, yes You
You are my love at good will, at good will
Your love is not unstable
Your love isn’t like a broken table
Your love is what I adore much more
Than anything that I adore…I adore…
I need Your joyfulness right now
I need Your high above somehow
I need your guidance
And to be Your ressurection
Your love is not unstable
Your love isn’t a broken cable
I need Your love more than ever
I need it for the better, for the better, for the better
I regret everything…yes, I do
Yet, I look to You still…I’m such a pill…
I bet anything will do, yes You
You are my love at good will, at good will
Your love is not unstable
Your love isn’t like a broken table
Your love is what I adore much more
Than anything that I adore…I adore…
Thought it was a Saturday night…
Guess it was a Thursday night alright
I will love You with all my might
You are my love and my delight
Your kind of love is far better than a good riddance —
Your love is a soon-to-be ressurection and I need Your deliverance
I won’t regret loving You,
Yes I do…
Yes I do…
Yes I do…
I don’t want to be upset with rue
It’s true…
It’s true…
Your kind of Love — I’ll make it through
I am tired of all this b s
So here it is God
From now on You can do anything You do
And say anything You say
And I don't give a damn
You think I care?
Well I am going to show You who cares
It's always something
One thing after another
I could never catch a break
Well break time is right now
I am on break
Break with You
Break because I can't cut any craps
Break because I can't do any s
Break because it's break time
And I had it
Break because anything I do is never going to be enough
Grand enough
For your approval
Well I don't need it
And I don't want it
Good riddance
I just wish You never want me to go back on my words
Because I don't wanta
You hear what I say?