Long Helping hand Poems
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The Old Lady In The Shoe
November 22, 2013 at 5:57pm
Dedicated to all my children around the world;
The big and small of it.
Some appreciate the little
things that encourages
them to do big stuff.
Some won't say anything,
because they never
get enough.
N'ary a second thought they give.
Some think they are entitled to it
and know not of reciprocation.
Some think that they should always
be the center of your attention.
Some children you can
doat on, and give them
all you've got.
Then there are
those to who will never
reach out to offer invitation.
Never lend a helping hand
To execute your plans,
It's selfishness
that guides them
because they love you not.
Some children want to be heard
others just wanna be seen
but the unappreciative child
won't amount to a hill of beans.
Some children need a little push
while others need a shove
mothers can never tell a child
Which one who best she loves
When mothers see these attitudes
She knows which child
will pass life's test.
Some play in the corner
day-dreaming all alone
Some children keep
lots of company;While
others have one friend
that is all his own.
The one you devote
your time to
may not be the child
that does his best.
Some children need you more-
Some children need you less.
But the child that won't say
" thank you" mom....
and never listen to advice
is the ones that breaks
a mothers heart,and
discounts her sacrifice.
Some children need a little push
while others need a shove.
Some need a swift
kick in the pants
or maybe a wake up call;
Others just need
a little coddling:
But never does a child
deserve no love all
Just remember the old lady
who lived in the shoe..
She had so many children...
They said "she didn't
know what to do."
Mothers learn your child,
try to give each what he needs
The one that appreciates
their mother is...
more likely to succeed.
footnote : original version
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;She gave them some broth without any bread;Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
Earlier version:
There was an old woman Who lived in a shoe,She had so many children,And loved them all, too.She said, "Thank you Lord Jesus,For sending them bread."Then kissed them all gladly and sent them to bed.
I was working for Jack Daymond, a farmer,
who farmed livestock, potatoes and vines.
I s’pose he had over two hundred cattle.
The spuds and the grapes grew in lines.
Oh gawd! Jack had me slaving ‘til sunset,
keeping his farm spick and span.
Jack kept his eyes on the produce,
while I was his cleaning up man.
And that meant me days were all busy,
spraying and killing off weeds,
grubbing out hundreds of tussocks,
before the darn thing set its seeds.
Sometimes old Jack was a good bloke,
he’d jump in with a fine helping hand,
and we’d spend our day in the paddock,
destroying the weeds on his land.
We were digging out plenty of thistles,
in the north paddock up near the creek,
and we worked like a couple of Trojans
clearing what should have taken a week.
Then a voice loudly filled up the air.
And it was quite menacing too.
A bloke in a suit was striding to us,
declaring his strong point of view.
“Mr. Daymond, I am here to warn you,
that I represent government’s need.
It appears that with government water,
that your quota you far did exceed.”
“I’m here to check your irrigation,
and make sure you’re not being unfair.”
Jack Daymond replied “Do what you must,
but don’t go in that paddock up there.”
The bloke in the suit became snaky,
standing over poor Jack with a leer,
“Don’t tell me where I can or can’t go,
See this card that I am holding here.”
“This card is a reminder to you,
I have authority over your land.
I am allowed to go wherever I wish,
have I made myself clear? Do you understand?'
Jack looked down at the card in his hand,
and knew there’s no sense to rebound,
so Jack nodded politely and joined me,
grubbing thistles from out of the ground.
It appeared that Jack had been beaten,
and in silence he’s taking it hard,
between thistles he gazed to the paddock,
at the bloke who had shown him the card.
But then a grin formed on his face,
we heard yelling like never before,
for the bloke in the suit he was sprinting,
and it’s something we cannot ignore.
Jack beat me on reaching the fence.
With the bloke in the suit in full flight,
and hot in pursuit was Jack’s Jersey bull,
with a look that was all sheer delight.
As the bloke in the suit got beside us,
with the bull behind him by a yard,
Old Jack cupped his hands and yelled out -
“Your card! Your card! Show him your card!”
What on earth is going on over there, do you have something to share, what on earth is going on over there, you are acting as if you don’t care. Is there any good news for us? Is there any recipe in the cook book? She always has something new to cook.
There is food in the pantry but the drain is clogged up, you have to get the technician to remove the plug before the day is done so that you can get the food from the pantry.
The wine is fine but there are few berries on the vine. You have got to put in a new crop before the autumn ushers in. They have the grain, the water and the drain; they just need a helping hand to clear the land.
The drums are leaving the town and the villains are homeward bound, the oligarchs are surveying the place and the customers are running all over the place. Everyone is looking for the best price before they roll the production dice. The season for the “bleeding” can be so demanding when you have twenty meetings in one day and nothing positive is coming your way. Negative energy will make you sick, and kinetic energy will throw you off the cliff.
Oh, I almost forget the shares; India has rice and beans to spare some people dislike the frosting on the cake because some flavors are out of date.
The Indian rice is white and it is piling up to the sky, the people will starve to death if you don’t act before the break of Dawn.
Narendra Modi, the King of the East must gather his administration in front of the beast, to discuss the rice ban before starvation devastates the land.
We don’t understand the reason for the ban, is it to purge the bad people from the land? You cannot allow the good to suffer for the bad or you will leave the entire world sad.
Prime Minister Modi is a good man and he need all the rice to feed the 1.4 billion people on his land .
This has caused some disruption in the global supply market. This is what you should do to protect the horse and the shoe. Export half of your rice to the globe and keep the other half to nourish your people’s soul.
You can add an extra dollar to the price to compensate for the ruthless sacrifice, consult your loyal customers and apologize for the rice ban.
You must put the politics aside and serve the people with much delight. Send the people to plant more rice and rescind the global rice ban, Prime Minister Modi…lift the rice ban.
6 years ago, I wrote limericks about 5 PS poets. Today, I've posted
about another 5 and will continue to add more... before 6 years.
I tickled funny bones of five Souper men
So, I gave thought to trying it once again
In the order they replied
My sarcasm was applied
As I gently heckled them with ink and pen
First, Tom Cunningham, who "liked my collection"
To femme limericks he had no objection
But now it's his turn
Tom, forgive the burn
I heard you're headed for a house of correction
Jerry T Curtis said to "keep them coming"
But I think that lately he's been slumming
He's all aflutter
And starts to stutter
When his lady friend starts his heart strumming
Then there is the poet of romance, Tim Smith
His sweet words of seduction are not a myth
I know it to be truth
Don't ask me. It's uncouth
I don't kiss and tell so I'm pleading the fifth
John Gondolf said my limericks made him "chuckle"
His comments are always filled with honeysuckle
But if he wants a date
I'll have to castigate
I have a black belt in the use of my knuckles
"I needed smiles and giggles," said Greg Barden
His poems are flowers blooming in a garden
But some words are couture
Fertilized with manure
Now I guess I'll have to beg for Greg's pardon
The new additions...
Like a brother he comes to my defense
This man wears no guise and has no pretense
Mark Koplin, misunderstood
A modern-day Robin Hood
To me he shines with rays of effulgence
There's a man who took me under his wing
Says what he thinks. Doesn't hold back a thing
Danny Turner, my friend
A helping hand he'll lend
For offering kind words, he's a wellspring
David Kavanagh, true friend from the start
Encouraging advice, he does impart
Throws Monoku lines like spears
I raise a glass to him ~ cheers!
Loyal, his word. A man with a good heart
Canadian, Vaso, we don't see oft
Art doesn't come across as being soft
But has a tender heart
For countries torn apart
His poetic words should never be scoffed
His funny thoughts overflow in a Flood
Terry writes humor that's never a dud
Risque, and sometimes not
His stories have a plot
Rumor has it that he's known as 'The Stud'
Gentlemen, I ask forgiveness for this spoof
My humorous parodies should be the proof
That I like all of you
And don't mind if ya do
Get even in your own limericks of reproof
If you stick your neck out for a friend, you’re likely to lose your head.
A friend is a potential enemy in disguise as a loving wife just before vowing ties.
Friends are of all kinds but the kind you want them to be.
A friend you use is a friend you abuse and who has no use of you.
The friend you call upon in need is always in greater need.
If you give a friend an helping-hand, make sure you take it back as soon as you can.
If you trust your friend with your girl, you’re the biggest dope in the world.
When friends meet, they always talk about beating meat.
If you take a friend to dine, make sure he leaves his horse behind.
The friend with daughters is the kind you wished sported blinkers.
A friend who works in banks, we always drop in - in person - to say thanks.
The friend’s wife even if she’s a bad cook is no chinook to hook.
If friends go on vacation with their wives, they always know who connives.
Friends who live close-up always end-up in the lock-up.
A friend with an axe to grind always uses it on some friend’s uterine.
A friendly father is one who takes a lasting interest in his daughter’s girl friends.
A friend who loans you some dough is always knocking on your door.
Only a friend who walks his dog picks the hour your wife goes out for a jog.
A friend at your beck and call must be wondering why you don’t him enthrall.
A friend by any other name is a still a friend you can put to shame.
A friend is someone you can entrust your shame with, but never your fame.
Keep your distance from the friend who shouts in your face for it’s a downright disgrace he spits in your face.
Friends who work for rival companies tend to share daily work memories.
Friends who work in different embassies are thick as thieves.
The greatest friends are those married couples with very large families who realize far too late they are/were really homo-sexuals.
Friends who give one another too many presents ought to look for friends who only give presents.
The best friends are those who need no psycho-analysts for they can see each other without waiting for appointments.
Childhood friends always end-up wishing their friends on other friends.
A friend of a friend always turns up for a spend or a lend.
Long lost friends who meet to go out for the night leave behind wives happy, whallop-py and tight.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
United
Let everybody hold hands and we can build bridges across the horizon.
Let all nations be of equal character and we can stand united as one.
Let all people gather together, if we try, we can all offer asylum,
To those who are in need; those who are in need of someone.
A helping hand across the world, reaching out to raise you up;
A voice from a distant land, from a never seen face,
Is needed to offer the thirsty, an endless water cup.
If we have riches, then they should too;
If a person has nothing, then charity they should be given.
If we are full, then they should be full too;
We are all only trying our best, to not just give in.
Without charity we would be without our humanity;
Without an embrace, where would we as a species be?
When we are lost in the dark and need a light to set us free,
Tell me where are we going without companionship?
Let no person stand alone, when they are in need of a friend.
Let no woman cry and let no man be able to sell the world.
We are all together under the same sun, without end,
So let us rise as one each morning, side by side with a smile
And mankind will be kind to the future boys and girls.
If it is already too late for us to save,
Then let us make the best of a bad situation.
If there is nothing we can do about climate change,
Then let us at least be united as one planet;
So together we can all find a united constitution.
Imagine all the people, living life in peace…
We could really start something.
If the hippies are all gone, then let them all be reborn.
If peace is truly lost, then let us find it once more.
If there is no hope left and we are only here to mourn,
Then let us heal the world with healing hands;
Our hearts are in need of being loved
And if one man is poor, then we are all of us, poor.
If we all plant a flower-power into the barrel of a tank,
Then we can put an end to war and remember how to love.
If we all stand united and truly give each other thanks,
Then we can shine a light so bright,
That it will be seen up in the Heaven’s above.
In our world of plenty we have more than enough to give.
Let us all become friends and send the love all around the world.
We are all human, so let us all be humane and think…
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
*To seek divine mercy in the aftermath of a major coronary surgery I underwent towards the end of last month.
Placed 9th in:
No. 1255 New Poem Only Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Brian Strand
A Simple Prayer*
O supreme Lord, give me the strength
To bear with fortitude my pain,
Bestow upon me the courage
To meet without groan any strain.
O mighty Lord, let your mercy
And the bright aura of your grace
Heal the core of my surgery
And restore the shine of my health.
Mightiest among the mighty
And the universe sole guardian,
From the depth of my heart I pray
That you do lighten my burden.
My whole life I have been chanting
Hymns of your wonderful glories,
My whole life I have been prizing
Your name in the crest of my heart.
For ever I have kept my mind
Free of evil thoughts for all men,
Besought peace for the entire world
And treated all humans as friends.
For ever I have spent my life
In extending a helping hand
To whoever dipped in a strife
And to all folks in dire needs.
Gracious Lord, if deep suffering
Is by You Inscribed in my fate,
Let me with pleasure digest it,
Let me of such stern stuff be made.
Merciful Lord, I seek Your grace
To ever cleanse my inner soul
Of any remnants of low taste
That I am worth to be Your child.
"The E.R.I.C."
by: Eric L. Boddie
To each of you who feels you have failed to evolve
Because you are constantly running into various barriers
Sit back, relax, and let me tell you the story
Of the eight realistically inspiring characters
The first was a son to God and his mother
As Seen Through The Eyes Of The Word and not any other
Because he Learned That Love Is Stronger than what words can even utter
Because Love Is So Much Of An Action, there is no distance it can not cover
The second was a brother to his siblings and all humanity
Blessed With Many Gifts, but never known for vanity
Because he felt any fear outside of God only led to insanity
So every situation that arose, he handled so candidly
The third was a man, standing both, strong and proud
Humble to all men but Only To God had he bowed
Always soft spoken but forever searching for that loud
Forever content with self-reliance, no dependence on the crowd
The fourth was a friend, extended with helping hand
Forever faithful and true, never using that betraying brand
Knowing that friendships must be grown, they can't be bought in the can
Because instead of desiring to down-grade, he wanted to understand
The fifth was the freak, known to all and one
The inspiration of desire, the innovator of monogamous fun
One Eve at a time, that's how he got it done
Because the motto was for her to only leak at the grasp of his gun
The sixth was a nerd, but cool in all other ways
Serving as a lifetime member in how her hip sways
But something about knowledge always left him amazed
And for that reason, attention is what he always pays
The seventh was a soldier, always Fighting For Christ
Which did he Love more, God or his Life
Because the things that he did show that he paid his price
In Respect For The One Who Made The Greatest Sacrifice
And the eighth was the one who would let neither give up his fight
Telling each he is not wrong until they PROVE they're right
Because To Live Under The Star That Brings Bright Morning Light
Can only bring Hope, and there is no better sight
Each was greatly strong, each was greatly misunderstood
Rarely could either be challenged, but far too often, each was abused
In ways too great for a simply common mind to ponder
Causing the E.R.I.C. more Prayers, A Power that can never be overused
I last saw him at our oldest sister's funeral. Why did death bring us together that dark day?
Why did life show the last of his face to me that day? Why, oh death, were you so secretive, leaving me clueless?
Had we known this would be our last, we'd have had more to say I tell you, we were worlds apart, different in so many ways
We fought as kids, talked like men, and lived as brothers Blood brothers, and 19 months separated our ages
I must confess that he was often misunderstood,
because he seldom did the things he should
Comfortable inside his own skin, he had nothing to hide and went out of his way to applaud the success of others
But he certainly danced by the beats of the music he made I never knew if he had a confidant, a hero, anyone he admired
I think that he never heard the drummer of anybody's band,
but he was always there for me to give a helping hand
He laughed at his own jokes. He was genuine, the real mcCoy
He was entrepreneurial and creative. I miss his honesty
and graciousness. He lived too fast and died too young I thought we would grow old together, but at 55 and
2000 miles away, he breathed his last and died Would to God my dear brother was still alive
121112Soup, Strand Special 5, B Strand, HM
You only live once, I’ve heard people say.
Oh how I wish, it wasn’t that way.
I hadn’t a chance, right from the start.
No, not a helping hand, nor a loving heart
It was no bed of roses, not even close.
A life full of hurt, I endured more than most
My brother and I, we survived the ordeal.
Then came the years, where we chose not to feel.
Years and years later, seemed one day out of the blue.
I felt like I woke up, to a life that was new.
I was many years older, but still this was me.
A bit shocked and confused, how could this be?
Where did the years go? I was just thirty three.
I’m fifty years old now, I missed out on being me.
So I woke up in my forty’s, is what you’ve heard me say.
I’ve been cheated from life, in the biggest way.
No proper upbringing, just hurt and abuse.
Which made all the wrong feelings, with all the wrong use.
No choices made right, examples were not there
Run away to whoever, showed me a care
Decisions were made, in the blink of an eye.
No thought ever put into it, didn’t even know why.
So here I am now, so much time spent and gone
I was cheated from a life, I played only a pawn
People don’t think, when they act like they do.
It’s true what they say, to thine own self be true.
So go ahead mom and dad, rest in your grave.
Just know I’m still searching, for a life that I crave.
The life that you took from me, so long ago.
You thought nothing of it, but I’VE carried the load
Thanks a lot mom and dad, my life could have been
Something worthwhile, not just a downward spin.
But think nothing of it, you never did
Don’t worry yourselves, I was just a little kid.
She won’t even remember, isn’t that what you thought?
You kept me busy, with all the stuff that you bought.
But a kids just a kid, for only so long you see.
Those darn kids grow up, they don’t always stay three.
So what will you do, when I’m twelve and can’t hide?
You still claim denial, and cling to a false pride.
Well I paid for all that, your cheap thrills and lust.
Because you were sick, I learned never to trust.
So thank you for all this dear mom and dear dad.
There’s much more to mention, in this life that I’ve had.
But now that I’m your age that you were when I grew
I’m happy and proud to say…..I’m NOTHING LIKE YOU.
2016