Long Pretty sure Poems

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His Life Mattered, Part Iv

..She felt so damn nervous making that call,
and when he picked up she just gushed it all,
he listened quietly, then she asked to meet,
she quickly wrote down the place and the street.

She met him at one of his restaurants,
he looked different now, his eyes didn’t haunt,
he had no gun, just company t-shirt,
but something about him still spoke to her.

She asked him, “Why did you do what you did?
Why risk it all to go and save my kid?
We destroyed your business, threatened your life,
made it clear we hated anyone white.”

He gave a sad smile, and then explained,
“If that’s why you’re worried, I’ll make it plain,
how could I have just let your child burn?
The thought of it just makes my stomach churn.

“He’s a human being, in danger great,
what kind of man would leave him to his fate?
Whatever rage that the mob felt for me
had nothing to do with a child of three.”

Jacinta learned forwards. “You didn’t care
that my people didn’t much want you there?
After what happened, and what we destroyed,
you went to rescue a random black boy?”

“My ‘people’ call themselves American,
and I’m pretty sure that you’re one of them.
Even if you weren’t, I’d still have to go,”
he said,”Such horrors children should not know.”

She felt amazement, and shame more than a bit,
that it took all this to understand it,
she thought ‘color-blind’ had been some quaint phrase,
those were the words that her family would say.

But this man had felt that her son mattered,
even when he had been just a stranger,
and she realized that his life mattered too,
whether black, white, or brown, such people were few.

This one man refuted lies she’d been taught,
her brother’s nonsense had all been for naught,
she saw a good man, wanted to know more,
started talking with him about his stores.

He told how his father had opened the spot
that the mob had burned, she felt her soul drop
on hearing how he’d played in the kitchen,
and chatted when young with those who came in.

She told him of Keenan, where she now lived,
he offered a job, said, “It’s mine to give.”
Soon enough Keenan would play in the back,
and the man smiled, gave him lots of slack,

mostly because he was dating his mom,
Jacinta didn’t stay on welfare for long,
the other workers snickered, she let them,
where would she find such a lover again?

CONCLUDES IN PART V.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Not Your Old Generation Grandparents

From the moment we became grandparents we have felt conflicted
at the way, in books and media, grandparents are depicted.

But we’ve been grandparents for a while now 
(one grandchild just graduated college)
So we believe it is time to share some grand-parental knowledge…

When a cartoonist draws a grandma her hair is invariably in a bun
If she’s not wearing a sweater…chances are she’s knitting one.

When she walks it’s with a cane and we will forever take offense
how she’s always wearing glasses and has no fashion sense

When a cartoonist draws a grandpa he is never very tall
His hair is a vibrant shade of gray or white…if he has any hair at all.

His plaid pants never match his shirt…his glasses are as thick as a window pane
He could be in a wheel chair or like Grandma…walking with a cane.

If you look around at grandparents today, you’ll find us agile and nimble and spry
In fact you’ll discover to your amazement those old stereotypes don’t apply. 

Deborah doesn’t wear a muumuu…her hair is never in a bun,
If you ask our grandchildren what they think, they’ll say their Nana’s fun. 

She’s creative, she’s compassionate, she’s patient and I can verify
She’s great with babies, loves to bake and sings a soothing lullaby.

As for me, though I am a little bald, I don’t wear plaid pants, never would.
snd if I do say so myself, I make the clothes I wear look good.

I do not fish, don’t watch much TV, I don’t read the Farmer’s Almanac
When my grandchildren ask to play football…guess who’s the quarterback?

Deborah and I will try jumping rope, playing soccer and climbing trees too
because in this day and age, in our generation, that’s what grandparents do!

We are a mix of old and new, we are much cooler and hipper than before
(Even though I’m pretty sure people don’t say cooler or hipper anymore!) 

We embrace some of the traits of our grandparents, yes the good ones have survived
but speaking for Deborah and the grandparents I know, a new generation has arrived!

So cartoonists when you draw Deborah draw her with style, grace and fun
And if you’re drawing her baking cupcakes, make sure they’re funky ones.

And when you take your pencils out don’t draw me in a rocking chair
Instead…draw me climbing up a tree or in a top hat 
and if you want…
you can add more hair.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member You Need Me, Crayon Box Edition

I am the brown crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I can color in the sand your child plays in,
or I can be the trunk of the tree that gives you shade.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure I need you too.

I am the orange crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I am the color of the fruit that holds my name,
that makes a juice so very sweet.
Don t try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure I need you too.

I am the blue crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I can color the sky that is the cosmos above your head,
and I can give you a refreshing drink of water.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure I need you too.

I am the green crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I am the color of the leaves that give you shade,
and I represent the money you spend.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.

I am the purple crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
Your art teacher might have told you that my name is violet.
I am the color of grapes round and sweet.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.  

I am the black crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I am the most popular font color on your computer.
I am the color of the lines that make the picture in your child's coloring book.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.

I am the yellow crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I color the sun that warms the day.
and I am the color of the lemons that make lemonade you drink.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.

I am the red crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I color the cheery that taste oh so sweet,
and I am the color on map to indicate heat.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.

We are the colors in your crayon box,
and we are sure that you need us all.
We work together in harmony,
but yet we are all different as can be.
Don't try to make us just like you,
We are pretty sure that we need you too.

We Got Us a Brand New America

WE GOT US A BRAND NEW AMERICA
By Roy Merritt

Meet our new friend Vladimir
He looks really good to me
I’m pretty sure he can teach us some stuff
He was a colonel in the KGB

Those kind of fellas can get things done
Can make straight down seem up
Can show us how to silence our critics
Show us how to shut ‘em up

Yes we got us a brand new America
It’s the one we been hankering for
From now on we’ll be sittin’ pretty 
If we can avoid us a civil war

In order for that we gotta be committed 
We gotta bring a lot pain
We gotta show we’ll take no guff
From those darein’ to complain  

So break out your big stash of weapons
That is if you’re on my side
But don’t you dare show no consternation
Cos’ that we won’t abide

Yes we got us a brand new America
The one we been hankering for
From now on we’ll be sittin’ pretty
If we can avoid us a civil war

Who gives a damn what our friends might say
Or even our sacred creed
We’ve embarked on a brand new day
And all in the name of greed

There’s money enough to go around 
And maybe even a lot of war
We might to get us to kill a lot of people 
Right here and on foreign shores

Yes we got us a brand new America
It’s the one we been hankering for
From now on we’ll be sittin’ pretty
If we can avoid us a civil war

So say goodbye to your Constitution
Any nonsense of civil rights
Say goodbye to your ideal America
My side has won the fight

And even though we might’ve played dirty
Compromised the fourth estate
We’ll all be standin’ around and croonin’ 
At this nation’s inevitable wake

Yes we gotta us a brand new America
It’s the one we been hankering for
From now on we’ll be sittin’ pretty
If we can avoid us a civil war

Meet our new friend Vladimir
He really looks good to me
I’m pretty sure he can teach us some stuff
He was colonel in the KGB

Those kind of fellas can get things done
Can make straight down seem up
Can show us how to silence our critics
Show us how to shut ‘em up
We intend to shut ‘em up
We’re gonna shut ‘em up

Yes we gotta us a brand new America
It’s the one we been hankering for
From now on we’ll be sittin’ pretty
If we can avoid us a civil war
If we can avoid us a civil war
Avoid us a civil war
Form: Lyric

Burning Love

I want to tell a funny story,
About this certain candle I had bought. 
“We’ll have a romantic night in”
This is the first thing I thought. 

Now this candle had its own jar,
One of those ones with 3 wick burners,
A statement decor piece, they say
A real mood turner. 

I put the kids to bed
And set up the room just right, 
I lit this big ass candle 
And turned off all the lights. 

The candle smelt amazing, 
The room was all a glow, 
I said we’ll do soft and sensual, 
You know, we’ll start off slow…

But things sped up, and I kept saying 
“shhh or you’ll wake the kids…”
The mood was very romantic and 
I was thinking “I could used to this…” 

Things were getting heated, 
And the bed was starting to shake, 
Unbeknown to us - the candle 
would crash down like an earthquake. 

Then suddenly the room went dark
and we couldn’t work out why…
For this big ass candle had other plans 
- like learning to fly!! 

In the heat of the moment, 
We forgot the candle on the bed, 
Within a split second it fell off 
And smacked poor hubby in the head.  

It landed on his naked chest, 
Covering him in hot wax from head to toe, 
Turning his red beard white and 
burning his chest hair, face and nose. 

He let out a scream of pain
He thought he had been discreet -
He woke all the kids up 
And half the bloody street! 

He leapt out of bed in a mad rush,
And slid across the wax covered floor, 
He was trying to wipe his eyes so he 
could find the handle on the bloody door. 

I flicked the light on and seen 
that the wax had started to set, 
For he couldn’t move or speak 
This will be a night we’ll never forget. 

The bed looked like a crime scene, 
For the wax had stuck like glue,
There he was standing butt naked 
Looking like one of those wax statues. 

We couldn’t get the wax off, 
We had to throw out the sheets. 
Alright candle - you win that round. 
We’ll just have to admit defeat. 

When I said things were getting hot, 
This is not what I had in mind. 
Pretty sure he got 3rd degree burns 
and is now partially blind. 

That’s the story of our hot date,
Something we could’ve never planned, 
One thing is for certain though,
All the ing candles have been banned!
© Bec Callow  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Tribute To the Day Before You Came By Bjorn Ulvaeus In the First 1982 Abba Version

Tribute to “The Day Before You Came” * by Bjorn              
in the first 1982 ABBA version 


The day before yesterday 
You came together to play
To lift our hearts in joy 
Belting out in convoy
The day after he came 
We celebrate whose fame
You wailed through self-pity 
But ne’er called it Beauty

‘Infinite suffering thing’ 
Would that Eliot could sing
Pre-dramatic event 
Your breaking-up you meant
“Pretty sure it must have rained”
”…rattling on the roof” hearts stained
The day after he came
Most songs seem sound the same

“Knowing you Knowing me”
Never meant to be free
“…my life…its usual frame”
“…sense of living without aim”
Yes “Some one is crying”
No some one’s conniving
At noon must have left for lunch
“…usual place…usual bunch”

The sad journey on rails
Must break hearts crammed in jails
Due at eight in the morn
Back at eight all forlorn
“And turning out the light”
Curled safe in bed at night
For the day after he came
My life burned on a flame

The paradox of joy
Is that it makes one cry
‘Parting is such sweet sorrow’
Better still safe routine in tow
“…I hid a part of me…”
“…in heaps of papers” for fee
And let the world pass by
Not knowing what is joy

Is joy carpe diem
Was day before he came
Now my life’s over due
I’ve met my Waterloo
The train’s an ugly monster
Dragging its hind legs after
Frida’s howl pack of hounds
Benny's sound track train pounds

Anna’s swan tones lament
Bjorn’s lines uptight breasts rent
Beauty’s not only content
It’s also the way you vent
Conceit’s the ermine cloak
Rattling skeletons croak
Bjorn’s true lines exquisite poem
Sung in sweet pain What’s its name

Notes

Words within inverted commas are from the song.
Single quotes indicate other well-known words.

*Rhyme scheme: 4  stanzas (3 of ten lines with concluding quatrain) in rhymed couplets of varying syllabic count.
1st stanza: aabbccde ff
2nd stanza: aagghhii ff
3rd stanza: ddggiijj ff
4th stanza: kk ff 
Not all in perfect rhyme: rain/came (for instance)
The syllabic count (more or less): 14 (with the exception of the 4th
line at 18 and eighth (exception: 1st stanza at 10) and tenth at 6.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Mcdonalds Poem

me and my girl kelssey just got done smoking weed
 are stomach start rumbling and we started too have cravings 
what was it what do we need 
we but our minds together and it was micky d's

so we walked in to get our burgers and fries,
but realized we aint gots no money to our surprise

i look in my back pocket and a 20 appear
 we was like holy crap then we walk up to the cashear 
she was like "how can i help you? you want that here or to go ? "
 umm i dont know but i like a number 6 plain with cheese
 but her not sure what do you want kelssey?


i want a classic combo. a sweet tea to drink. 
thats what id order im pretty sure or i think.
 burgers on our mind..thank god it was micky d's that we would find
. but watch the drinks. make sure the dont spill. 
but if you do its ok. cuz we get free refill.

they called our order and we grab our meal 
right when we seat down i cause a big deal
 i looked at my food and guess what i see 
they put lettuce ketchup and mayonnaise and the receipt says plain with cheese
 i cause a fus and a big scene it all worked out
 the food was free and i got back my 20


so we didnt have to pay.
 we got out there real fast and started a good day.
 but we were still hungry and what did we do? 
well we thought a shopping cart would fit through the drive through.

 a bad idea? i dont know. but me and west thats how we roll.
 so we climb in and away we go we went so fast no a time was spent
i was like " i hope we dont hit a car i hope we dont cause a dent"
 we finnally got to the end of the drive through 
so we told em to give us order number two and dont for get order number three
 right when we grabbed our food we jumped out of the cart and then we flea



so our trip to mickey d's was quite amazing at the least... 
as we eat our burgers and join in a great feast.
im like dang what are we doing 
we are packing our face s like a 8 year old eats pudding
 im a skinny kid but now i feel like a fat as pig 
i ate so much im starting to feel sick

so fat we feel. cuz we ate to much. kinda bad idea. 
who would of thought of such.
 well me and west kno how to kick it. eat mickey d's all day is good living
Form: Ballade

Premium Member BUTTERFLY IN THE RAIN

BUTTERFLY IN THE RAIN

If you read my poems I’m sure you can tell by the words I use
how often my child and adult are uniting…
but there are times, like today, when the adult in me takes a break
and I let my child do the writing.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate his input (yes this is his child speaking)
It’s just that sometimes I’m not after the same answers he is seeking.

Take today for instance…outside it started to sprinkle 
and as I watched a butterfly visit flowers in this part of her domain….
I stopped to ask that butterfly, “Where do you go when it rains”.

I’m pretty sure the adult in me knew the answer
(There’s a book about butterflies he keeps upon the shelf)
but I preferred to get my information from the butterfly herself.

She said, “I usually looks for safe and dry places…the same places I like to sleep at night
In a hollow of a tree, under leaves…somewhere I can protect my leaves for flight.”

As the rain came down a little harder…she said, “Come and follow me!”
then she flew and found some refuge in a nearby blue spruce tree.

She said,  “We butterflies are lucky…Mother Nature has provided us a brain…
that allows us to find natural umbrellas that shelter us from the rain”.

As we spoke I couldn’t help but notice…although the rain had filled the sky
the needles she chose to hide under protected this butterfly.

She looked at me and smiled…the from the lips of the smartest butterfly I’ve ever met…
She said, “I notice how I’m up here high and dry…while you’re down there getting wet.”

I admit I felt a little embarrassed…when with laughter she couldn’t contain…
that little butterfly stopped to ask me…”Where do I go in the rain?”

Then she said, “It doesn’t matter…you are soaking wet I see…
and since it’s still raining why don’t you come and share this tree with me.”

So there I sat under the blue spruce tree…conversing with a butterfly
while the rain fell all around me…and only one of us was dry.

The adult in me would not have wanted to get wet…
would not have followed that butterfly into that blue spruce tree…
but this soaking wet child couldn’t help but think 
there is no place I’d rather be..
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

How I Found Love and Lost It Part One

I only said it, to make you smile back
You wouldn't say it back

I like to shy away from the world
To silence the thoughts
don't have to think about the camera girl
With soft locks
Just stick my head in a book, my masking mistook
I think I killed the atmosphere
It's okay, it wasn't so great in here
Some say my vocabulary is full blown
And some say I'm a misanthrope
Oh ho, you couldn't wait to say hi
Is she looking at us? just smile and wave
I don't know what she's saying
Does she want us to come over?
You do it, now say it
Oh you disappoint me

She's a party girl if I ever saw one
And I only saw one in my brother’s black room
Air always smelled like a Hippie reunion
And I'm pretty sure they were all doing shrooms
She's a Rhythmic, non-cynic, hygienic class act
She likes to speak like a debaucherous Nazz
I don't know what I want
But I know what I need is her
Stay right here
I'll get the girl

Can't sleep as I think of a song
I can't remember the words but it went bom bom bom bom
my wind, my world
Ah, Those dreams with my girl
Ever notice in the life of your dreams
You're never self-loathing, or nervous or mean
It's so fine
Good times
All sorts of lives
With her hand in mine


Time and time again, I'm on the far side of Earth
They say it's different as you get old
But I doubt I'll stop myself from looking too dumb
Where is that so called spirit you speak of?

"Oh stop, you silly boy.
I told you I like you as a friend.
Oh is this for me? Why thank you.
We're still just friends.
Oh my now you say you love me. 
We were just friends a week ago.
You're too attached.
It's okay, we all get that way sometimes.
Here, let's go for a ride."

"See all the boys think of me as a temptress
Like I use guys and make them do my bidding.
But you'll find I'm just trying to be nice.
We can't all be lovey dovey.
What's a girl to do?"

Feeling sappy on my own
I know someday I'd make you turn
Well it's the classical pneumonic state you're in	
I can’t believe this wild wicked sin
It's in your genes, it's in your blood
It's 90 degrees
Let's flood flood flood
Time to do it tonight
Form: Ballad

Play Ball

So exciting, I'm next, I'm next                                         
My turn up to swing, make that bat sing 
Don't think it gets any better than that
Your chance at a home run to bring

Oh No, they're switching pitchers
She must be that NEW girl at school
I have no conception or Clue... of her technique
Wonder if those well defined muscular arms
are any indication... That little girl don't appear weak

Silently sweating in the dug out,
listening to all my peers frantically shout,
"That girls throw is like a tornado invader, 
It's been told she clocks off all the radar!"

Her last season was historically undefeated
All the batters were left feeling depleted 
Every rival team ultimately conceded
I'm starting to feel a 'lil cheated

"You there, Your UP", shouts the ump
"Make sure to secure your Cup
 as you approach the mound,
been told this little girls throw is faster
 than the speed of sound,
"She'll leave you writhing 
in awful pain upon the ground!"

The catchers mask is fastened in place
Perspiration beads break out on my face
My team mates expect me to place
How can I lose to a girl,  with grace
I'll never be able to show my face

"Play Ball", is called,  "Strike One"
This suddenly doesn't feel like fun
Muffled shouts within the crowd
"You suck", is all I hear quite Loud
Her team cheers effervescently proud

In a split second, Whiz," Strike Two"
Our catcher falls back from the thrust
Up in the air is his shoe, pretty sure I am threw

If I don't hit the next one, it's a definite bust
I think I even heard my grandmother cuss
This last shot at bat will determine the game
The scores are tied, no innings remain

My palms are sweaty upon the bat as I get ready
Oddly, I think that girl is pretty, as I hold my bat steady
As the crowd is chanting, my breath heavily panting
In the fastest whoosh I've ever Seen,
 " Strike Three"
That pretty girl is now The towns Baseball Queen

 Yup, So it's a tie, and I'm not exactly sure why
 But at the pizza party tonight that shall follow
 After a big gulp and unusual pride swallow
 I'm gonna ask that pretty girl to Marry Me !

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