Long Punch Poems
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In Memory of my close, good friend, Roger Ebert, international movie critic from Chicago, whose wisdom and warmth…. left us far too soon!
Some made me howl, some put me in tears.
Some so adventurous..I was in total fear.
These are ones, I have seen more than once.
Truly, making me as pleased as punch.
Annie Hall
Big
Bananas
Best Years of Our Lives
Beverly Hills Cop 1,2
Black Orpheus
Black Swan
Casino
Carbon Copy
Christmas Story, A
Coming to America
Copycat
Damien
Days of Wine and Roses,The
Dirty Harry Series
Days of Wine and Roses
Evil Under the Sun
Fargo
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Final Conflict, The
Firm, The
Fugitive, The
Flatliners
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
Goodfellas
Hannah and Her Sisters
It’s a Wonderful Life
Jaws. 1,2
Klute
Lethal Weapon 1,2,3
Licensed to Drive
Lost Boys
Midnight Cowboy
Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street
Omen, The
Poltergeist
Professional, The
Rebel Without A Cause
Red Shoes, The
Risky Business
Romeo and Juliet
Rosemary’s Baby
Schindler’s List
Sixteen Candles
Serpico
Sharknado
Shawshank Redemption
Space Odyssey
Splendor in the Grass
Stripes
Umbrellas of Cherbourg, The
Uncle Buck
West Side Story(1st Version)
White Christmas
7/29/2022
~1~
PLUMPY VS. BUFFY
In the ring, oh what a sight to see,
The cat and dog, ready for glee.
The cat all plump, with a belly so round,
The dog so buff, muscles abound.4
With a meow and a bark, they start their fight,
Cat throwing punch, dog's future not bright.
But oh what a twist, as the cat goes astray,
Trips on his tail in a comical display.8
The dog takes a chance, with a mighty leap,
Lands a punch, cat starts to weep.
Round after round, they dance and they prance,
In this epic battle of paws and stance.¹²
In the end, it's clear to see,
The dog emerges with victory.
The fat cat, defeated, with a sigh,
Admits the dog's muscles were just too high.¹6
The eternal beef continues between cat & dog
In the boxing ring, they danced like a log.
A funny sight, to make us all grin,
The day the fat cat fought - and couldn't win!²°
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?24th February 2024.
As I stare at this blank canvas
I wonder what to create
Should I write what I feel
I ponder if anyone can relate
Art in the form of words
There is no canvas that goes unheard
As I reach deep inside my mind
Gauging what's my biggest crime
I would have to say it's art
Now follow closely because this will get dark
Don't get lost in the shadow of my arch
There is no sun where the sun don't shine
I hope you listening close because that was a punch line
Art comes in many forms
I try to create outside of the norm
I was pronounced different from the day I was born
Now don't get torn
This is not sympathetic art
This is real raw lay out your heart
I make a puzzle out of my words
I like using synonyms antonyms and verbs
Not a shattered illusion
But a microbial infusion
Tell me can you follow
A canvas so hollow
Bruised at its outer edge
Heart still beating
But inside it's dead
Yet you can't help but stare
Would you buy it?
I bet you won't .. I dare
Form:
Akin to a journalist (hoofing
NOT huffing on the beat)
heedful, mindful, and pain fully aware, bleat
me, asper caveats help me set sights
tacking within parameters of lawfulness,
when questing without sparking browbeat
upon my person, or worse...proceeding toward
said abstract destination until...
impossible mission complete
for verity from figurative horse's
mouth without defeat
dogging this astute brute, destitute, flute glute
hirste human institute irresolute
kickstarting little feet
essentially persevering acquiring,
amassing, and adducing
for instance enlightening
fierce interest how greet
American foreign policy
provokes bristling heat
particularly sinking cerebral teeth
into tomes written by Jeffrey Sachs
(one of the world's leading experts on
economic development,
and the fight against poverty) racks
up with unassuming dignity, grace, integrity,
and prestige in my book -
for birds that quacks
without question, his expertise packs
a punch (Judy be careful),
he earns accolade to the max
factor, and rightly so, asper one of the world's
leading experts on economic development, and lax
global fight against poverty,
yet also in mine reading material canon includes:
TIME Magazine, The Nation, and now imagine klax
on (trumpeting) for Mother Jones, a six month
subscription bringing to alight me to do jumping jacks
(no doubt you remember those vigorous movements),
but tactics to expand learning I put in Italics
if only to maintain alternate rhyming pattern,
which tenebrous, superfluous,
and ridiculous poetic hacks
meant add a little playfulness,
solely intending to bloom forth
with illusory "NOT FAKE) flax
seeding, an ongoing inquisitiveness maybe last
ting influence to ferret out
off the beaten track less broadcast
revelations, since this apt cast
off firmly believes the educated people denied
knowing how government (namely
military industrial complex) past
(and of course present) involvement blast
ting away innocent lives, and/or funding
subversive activity most likely fast
intervening across the real world wide web
to coerce, force, and source vast
suppression jeopardizing United States economy.
They are looking out tiny boxes
traveling toward the city from the suburbs
wearing tennis shoes on their tired feet
Many have left their dress shoes at work
Some stop at a gym on the way,
these are the high brows who do not punch in
It is Chicago, nineteen ninety-six
My husband is in one of these jam trains
looking out his tiny box, as trees and cows fly by
Upon arrival, the gritty of the city meets them
Gray concrete is their first welcome mat
They are careful to not fall into the trenches
Some race by, but most march as robots
staying in order until they reach Union Station
People stop being human here
The stores are expensive, so most cannot shop
Their lunch sandwiches are tucked into hot baggies
inside the briefcase they hold onto as they march
a line of unsmiling creatures
who have left their mommy and daddy cap forty miles out
being an employee or an employer, less than human now
Theres a saying that says that opposites attract
Well I am so gorgeous it seems it's a fact
I like a plain girl for whom I can care
Cos I like a girl I'll not have to share
To not have to punch other blokes would be great
So I'm really glad you're a bit overweight
I'd like to point out that you've made the right choice
For no other man could put up with your voice
You shouldn't feel bad that you're not that good looking
At least I'm not dead from your ‘inventive’ cooking
And who else could bolster this ego of mine
But a girl just like you who drinks way to much wine
I see guys look at you, I guess that it's pity
They wonder why I'm not with somebody pretty
I love our nights in, we don't go out to dine
You might scare the children my sweet Valentine
Well this is well weird, I'm sat home alone
You had to pop out when you'd answered the phone
I glare at the clock and it's three in the morning
I'm nearly asleep and I cannot stop yawning
At last there you are with that silly false smile
Some shortsighted fella has tried to beguile
A loser in love with no romantic powers
Who lumbered you up with chocolates and flowers
Who's that outside with a rose that is red
Don't get no ideas about three in a bed
You should understand that it's me that you're for
Er... why are my suitcases outside the door?
17 February 2021
Contest: Valentines
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
He was born, I was happy.
I could play with someone,
Grow up with someone together.
I never lacked love or care but being the youngest had its own downside.
No one to play with me, no one to hang out with, no one to share secrets with.
But after his arrival, everything changed, I knew I needed no one.
I didn't care if my cousins played with me
or my parents gave me attention.
Because now I finally had my own punch bag, my own chaos to handle.
I loved every moment growing up.
Its scary how you grew up but also wonderful.
I look back at time when I took your things and you cried.
The beauty lied in the innocence of it.
But now I see you all grown up
Helping people and sharing things
I feel immensely proud of you.
I look back at and I can tell
I never knew how much I needed you
Until I saw you for the first time in that hospital
But with that came the worry and anger
Love from parents would be divided or worst taken away.
But seeing you cleared both worry and anger
coz I knew you deserved every moment of it.
Truth to be told, for me love never decreased.
Instead it increased, the care you saw, the maturity you possess, and the love you shower
make me wonder how fortunate I am to have you.
At the end of the day I can happily announce
You are my ride or die
You are my home
And
without you I have nothing.
Running around frantically,
The wrong lock for a key,
Boiling over, fuming,
Cleanness always looming.
Lurking over, smiling ear to ear,
Small, always wanting to steer,
“Too controlling!”, spoilt I’d say,
Always wanting their way.
It’s like their hearts are astray,
In one spot, you can’t stay,
Oh, how I’d love to keep them quiet,
Pitter, patter, follow it.
Fighting, battling in a “war”,
Toothpicks drawn over an apple core,
How silly we were as children, making food sculptures,
Fighting over scraps like vultures.
Contagious, maturity spreading fast,
Cough, breath, that’s my last,
Punch to the face, youth ending soon,
Lies spread by a goon.
The street seemed so much smaller now
The grime and the smell were still the same though
Engrained like the people who lived there
It was the only thing that never left him
She stayed at twenty-three
One tough girl
Christ, he still remembers the day she knocked him out
Slightly concussed, he proposed to her
Not bad for a twelve-year-old
She couldn’t stop laughing
She wasn’t marrying no wimp that day
In fact, her daily ritual was knocking him down
Mum, is love painful
If it’s true love, it can be
It was, his head was testament to that
He just kept going back for more
To give her, her due, she was happy to give it to him
One day he told her straight. I don’t care how many times you knock me down. I’m going to be your boyfriend. He waited for the punch
She kissed him
He fell down again
She starting laughing
It felt like the greatest feeling ever
They became inseparable after that
Young love had conquered
One day she told him she was going away
I’m going with you
It’s not that kind of going away
Is there another kind
It’s the dying kind of going away
Yes, but you won't die for a long time
A year the doctors said
That didn’t make sense to him
We’ll just have to make the most of it, she said
Make the most of it
The most precious year of his young life
She died the way she lived.
Demanding he did the best he could with his life
There were times when he really struggled
Times he thought of joining her
The pain in his head always changed that
Even in death, she got to him
The years passed by
He made good
She would be proud of him
The street seemed so much smaller now
The grime and the smell were still the same though
Engrained like the people who lived there
It was good to be home...
Rising while others are falling fast asleep
Should I go? Now that ain't even a question 'cause baby girl gotta eat
And so does my wife, and I
Gotta go! Yes, gotta make that run just so we can get by
Dreams! Sweet dreams of the future, both near and far
Reaching earnestly yet, they're like a distant, fading star
Running to punch someone else's clock, now this ain't ever made no man rich
I know it, but I haven't found it, yes, that good 'ol niche
Running, running, running, but to where?
Just trying to stay focused on that distant star as I persevere
SLOW DOWN! I say slow down 'cause what's gon' be, gon' be!
Every time I say this, I quickly remember that the car note is a month behind and the pantry is empty
Running! Running into the night and days
Baby needs a new pair of shoes and still no pay raise
Lord! Being caught in this whirlwind makes me wanna holla.
Running, just running to make that mighty dolla
God knows I've been struggling to make these old ends meet. I've moved slow and fast
Don't know Lord, don't know how long my energy gon' last