Long Taxi Poems
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In Jan, nineteen thirty-three, there was man called Mick Malloy
At the time he was an alcoholic and a poor homeless boy.
A young Irish fire-fighter out of work
He left his home in Donegal - to find some in New York.
He fell in with five real bad men
Who wanted to cause murder back then.
Poor Mick they had him in their sights
An insurance fraud, they brought to light.
They signed three life policies on Mick
Now they had to kill him quick.
Unlimited credit in a speakeasy, they gave him
To drink himself to death-they went out on a limb.
Although he drank all day long
His life it just seemed to prolong
They switched to antifreeze instead
Expecting Mick to wake up dead.
With turpentine they then did tempt
But no success, so they switched to horse liniment.
Finally a drink of rat poison, they gave the poor lad
But Mick never ever seemed to get bad.
They tried oysters, then methanol.
Bad sardines, poison and carpet tacks
But poor old Mick swallowed the lot,
And still poor Mick kept coming back.
The five would be murderers were baffled
Poor Mick just would not die
The murder trust then knew,
something else they would have to try.
One night poor Mick unconscious, they stripped him and carried him out
In minus fourteen degrees,naked, not wearing a single clout.
Threw five gallons of water on him, to make sure that he would freeze
Poor Mick returned the next without even a cough or sneeze.
Mick returned the next day to order himself a drink
The men were getting desperate they really had to think.
Next they hit him with a taxi and broke lots of poor Mick’s bones
But he had three weeks in hospital, then they sent him home.
The gang had thought that Mick was dead
But when they tried to claim, poor Mick returned once more
And kept on his drinking game.
In desperation in February, in fact on the twenty second
They waited for Mick to collapse, then gassed him in a second
A pipe they pushed into his throat and now poor Mick was gone.
The gang did not win even then, no not a single one.
They squabbled and were caught and to Sing Sing them they did send
Four to be fried on the electric chair what a sizzling end
The fifth was sent to prison, which didn’t seem quite fair.
He somehow managed to escape, Sing Sings electric chair
Poor Mick Malloy has been long gone, but will not be forgotten
Just remember to watch your friends though; you never know who’s rotten.
After finishing a seminar based on demand and supply,
I walked out to the street and hailed a taxi going by,
and as I sat down in the seat, the taxi driver said to me,
‘my, my, your timings perfect, you are just the same as Terry.’
I must admit he had me thinking, so of course I answered ‘Who?’
‘Terry Parker’ said the cabbie; a bloke it’s obvious he knew.
‘Yeah, anything that Terry did, he was right on every score,
he lived with perfect timing and Terry never had one flaw.’
I had never met a bloke like Terry, so I’m wary of the fact,
so I subtly gave me answer in a way most would react,
‘None of us are perfect mate,’ but the cabbie did insist
That Terry, he was faultless, and so few like him exist.
I heard that Terry was an athlete with the most amazing skills,
His golfing matched the pros, and his tennis playing simply thrills,
he could sing like Johnny Cash; and even better so I’m told,
he danced like Fred Astaire; his piano playing…simply gold.
I could only think he must be special, this Terry Parker bloke,
and the cabbie uttered ‘hang on,’ and once again he spoke,
‘there’s more to Terry yet, you see his memory never failed,
he remembered every birthday, and every one detailed.
‘He was a connoisseur on beer, and knew everything ‘bout wine,
He knew how to serve the finest foods; all simply pure divine.
And if anything needs fixing, then Terry was your shining light,
he was streets ahead of me, ‘cause I can’t do nothing right.
‘He could always read the traffic, and you’d never find him stuck,
not like me when I am driving, for I had none of Terry’s luck,
and I ought to mention women, and how he made them feel so good,
he was the ideal gentleman; he treated women how I should.
‘Terry would never answer back, even if the woman’s wrong,
he was a charming butler, and his charisma it was strong,
he kept his house immaculate, as no other person can…
no one could measure up; Terry Parker was the perfect man.’
When I reached my destination but before I stepped outside,
I paid the driver what was due, and then I thanked him for the ride,
but I thought it best I mention, at more or less a parting whim,
‘this Terry Parker is remarkable, how did you get to meet him?’
The driver took my money, and then he muttered deep and slow,
‘Actually I never met him, but I’m married to his widow.’
ENOUGH!
I felt deaf from the ‘noise’ of information,
constantly butting, buzzing against my mantra of:
“The quieter you are… the more you… hear!”
At present, my lifestyle felt media manipulated:
tv, radio, newspaper, mobile, computer.. ad infinitum!
Besieged by endless emails, monopolizing mobiles,
beset by frenzied yaps from apps!
Enough is enough is….. ENOUGH,
I have to escape from the unrelenting hullabaloo.
Can the human brain endure so much information
and who am I, an individual thinker or group dancer?
However, relief sat just around the corner
as next morning I boarded the flight to Reykjavik.
A three-hour taxi journey with a taciturn islander,
people and communication diminishing by the mile
until finally a twig of a boat out to Ellidaey Island.
Boating and bobbing towards the uninhabited …hideaway,
an isolated jigsaw piece of land
off the southern coast of Iceland,
I appraise a small-boned building clinging to its side
with ‘RIDICULOUS’ scribbled all over it.
Someone had said Iceland was a niceland
where you could float free, peace and tranquillity!
But someone hadn’t warned me about…Mr Loneliness
Who was soon tapping me sharply on the shoulder.
So here I sit, three days into my week’s stay
in the island’s lodge, dubbed the world’s loneliest house,
where the only neighbours are passing ships and puffing puffins.
No internet, no tv, no electricity, no running nor strolling.. water
just remote, alone and contemplating my countenance
while wondering if God is lonely too!
Suddenly, clouds bump and bruise against each other
as they race away before the darkness snarls in.
Soon, night has sent in its stormtroopers
who land and splinter into shadow groups
while wind angrily sprints up to the house
bombing it with blockbuster punches.
Then rain happily joins in, machine-gunning the house
until the building begins to stagger and stumble.
I check my face and it is still in the same place
but I sit timorously trembling, tyrannised and terrified
while my eyes follow the house’s dimly lit path
as it wags its tail to the cliff’s edge
and jumps into the void of darkness.
But this poem is a broken wrist, with a twist,
as suddenly, my bones brittle and inside myself…..I faint!
What possibly could happen now?
But there it is..
the knock at the front door!
Ian Souter
"I love you"
These are the three ripe words that
I wanted to whisper in your ears.
So, I
Fixed a date
You came
We met
We spoke
But I couldn't propose:
Though tattooed on the tip of my tongue,
at my dismay it refrained to flow out.
Then,
I packed all my feelings and emotions in a box
with a love letter clinched to it
and laid it on your desk.
Looking at the hourglass
Counted the time.
Zealously anticipating
for your arrival
But,
Unfortunately
you were on sick leave.
Poor me
Carried the box
ran and hopped into a taxi.
Impatiently sitting,
throughout the ride
yearning to meet you..
After reaching the destination
Carelessly forgetting the box,
restlessly I jumped down
Rushed to your flat
Found your name plate beside the door
Pressed on the calling bell
Faced your maid
With a fine clarification
I stepped inside the hall
Not finding you
Confused I stood.
In a while,
Got to know
that you have been shifted
to hospital;
Not knowing the address
and the exact location
I stumbled
Place to place..
In search of you
With a wrong information.
Cash had melted;
Looking my wallet
I sat on the street
gaping at your photo,
that..I had stolen
from your locker.
Hit suddenly an idea..
Thought of calling you
But,
In a hurry had left my
mobile on my table;
Recalling your number
I went to a telephone Booth
I tried and tried and tried..
With many failed attempts
I just heard the recorded voice
which repeatedly said:
"your call is not reachable"
My eye lids were twitching
prophesying something awful is to happen.
The clouds were shadowed by darkness;
And I returned back home
with a huge sigh;
Found my pillow
Embraced ,
Cried my heart out,
Lay insomniac,
whole night
Thinking
Of YOU
I stay awake
Worrying,
What might have happened to you..!
The next day morning,
I found newspaper
Headlines said:
"Airplane crashed due to turbulence"
Strange was to know..
Your name typed too..
under the missing passenger list.
Why such a shocking news ?!
Why the hell did he board the flight
all in sudden with no clue?
Myself wriggled
On the floor..
Soul paralyzed
"Losing him"
~The Untold love~
The one who capriciously
got away from me
in a very
short span
of time.
3-7-2020
Second place in the contest.
Note:The one that got away poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Silent One.
" Sci-Fi Bar Jokes & Riddles ... "
( 1 Tim. 1: 11)
(1.)
"Star Wars Bar ..."
A Jedi Knight and a Wookie, walk into a bar ...
The Jedi tells the bartender to keep the drinks coming.
Around dawn, when the Jedi is too drunk to think,
the bartender, then tells them both, its time to pay
their tab. Then the Jedi, turns to his buddy, the Wookie
and asks, "Do You Mind?"
------- ------- ------ -------
(2)
"Dune's Sand Bar ..."
On Arrakis, the desert planet known as Dune,
A Duke and a Baron, walks into a bar ...
Now, which one orders the biggest bottle of Mezcal?
------- ------ ------- -------
(3)
"The Matrix-Mixer Bar ..."
Neo and Morpheus, walk into a bar ...
On that night, every patron, gets their first drink free
Now, the selection is between two drink choices on
the list: They can choose either the 'Crimson Cocktail'
or the 'Blue Kamikaze' ... Which did Neo pick?
------- ------- ------- ------
(4)
"Stargate Symbol Bar ..."
Col. O'Neill and Teal'c, walk into the Stargate
and wine-up in a bar (he-he) ... in a world
very much like our own. While there, they
socialize with the locals, sample strange brews
and get very intoxicated. However, not to worry,
on this world, the bartender is used to visitors
who can't handle the native liquors ... So,
the bar has their own taxi, on standby
for such occasions. So he dials the cab.
But before the cabdriver comes, the taxi
has to be gased up. The question is:
"What gas station does he use?"
------- ------- ------- -------
(5)
"Barsoom/Mars' Whiskey Bar ..."
A Thern and a Thark, walk into a bar ...
They join John Carter, who was drinking Cutty Sark
and a Martini. Also there, is The Princess, who
sips on deja-blue water and a shot of Royal Crown.
The Thern, gives his order for a glass of Jameson & Gin
And the Thark, orders: Jim Bean and Jack Daniels
... and a Bourbon ... and a Beer
------- ------- ------- -------
(6)
"Star Trek's Hit The Deck"
As They Journey Into Darkness & Each Distant Star
Kirk & Spock Walks Into The Enterprize's Bar
And Tho' The Ship May Shake & Warp-Drive-Drop
Mr. Spock Keeps As Cool As A Glass of Ciroc
And Captain Kirk, Just Orders A Scotch On The Rocks
('Cause Scotty Takes Care of All The Enterprize's Stock)
------- ------- ------- -------
Poem/Jokes by: MoonBee
Form:
Theme for collaboration suggested by Tim Smith
Two enormous old toads crossed the road
On Tom’s back lounged Thomasina toad
Both are ugly and warty
Thomasina’s so naughty
As her bowels on his back she’d download
06-16-17
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
When Thomasina toad dumped on old Tom
He thought her poop explosion was a bomb
He hopped in the air
gave her a mean stare
shouting, "I'm not taking you home to Mom!"
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Ribbit rubbit robbit 'n ro
this crazy toad has got to go
She's turning quite mean -
Fifty shades of green
No time to chat but still does crow
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
"Why don't we do it in the road?"
Said Thomas, the old horny toad
Thomasina hissed,
"Get a load of this!"
and a "blessing" on him bestowed
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
Thomasina was on a road trip
Her taxi was Tom's back she'd grip
But she strained as she held
And her bottom expelled
So she said "I've just left you a tip"
WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY
Tom and Thomasina were the perfect pair
They were ancient toads without a care
He had a huge wart
She gives a mean fart
Anyone in her vicinity better beware!
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
Now Tom was an over achiever
He wanted the lady, not leave her
He sprayed his back with Scotch-Guard
and rubbed down with lots of lard
the dumper was now the receiver
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Tom gave Thomasina the boot
Got sick from the smell of her poot
told her to get lost
right after he tossed
She gave him the one finger salute
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Thomas and Thomasina loved to hear
the waterboatmen rubbing their gear
Thomas tried and started to croak
causing Thomasina to choke
you two will never get it right I fear
WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS
When T'sina hopped on for a ride
Old Thomas reminded his bride,
"Though you're my sweet dish,
on the road we'll get squished",
"Just do it!" was her terse reply.
WRITTEN BY CRAIG CORNISH
Thomasina and Tom a heavy load
Lingered a little too long on the road
He could have kissed her all night
shocked at the oncoming lights
Croak and ribbit was heard; two flattened toads
WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER
PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME ANY SUBMISSIONS FOR THE COLLABORATION
06-16-17
It was an Autumn evening
With its cold always predicted
I rushed out of a taxi with a haste to meet the one who stole my heart
She kept reentering my mind!
I have never been so much attached to her image in my mind
She was glowing off lately, her signs of happiness were all over the place
Written all over her face and that is what I witnessed
Maybe happiness was a four-letter word, I reckoned!
Walking towards her place seemed longer that autumn evening
There was a moment I wanted to jog
A great idea employed my mind that I did not want to sweat
When I am with her, I cherish every minute that comes with it
I arrived at last
I was prompted to send her a text notifying her of my arrival
Within a minute I saw her bracket, sexy legs making their way towards me
It was only a while when I heard her sweet voice
Again, it seemed longer to reach her house and by this time I was care free
She was right next to me and that was the only thing making logic
I gathered my thoughts as I walked into her room to put the traditional bag I was gifted
I walked towards her in the kitchen as she concluded with her call
The warmth and chills I felt all at the same time mesmerized all my state of mind
I felt her scent and her warmth
I knew at that moment I could define everything in a line
She was freedom, longevity, tranquility and made me smile deeply
She had me discovering this scientific rare formula in my head
I felt her heartbeat against my own and by then I knew she was my all, the one I have always been searching for
Her kiss invited the motive for sex
Sex, I never thought would happen prematurely
My mind went on a field trip with notions
On such occasions people meet and great
And us we broke boundaries, the status quo
Everything seemed scripted with directors yelling “Action!”
The cameras were rolling with every sex scene we had as we kissed passionately
She was a great kisser, I placed all the blame to her on the scene of the crime
God Outlaws!
Her sexy naked body was in a shower we shared together and my lips losing control kissed her watery ones
I was so lost in my world
I knew I had a great story to tell
She was mine and I knew she was all that I longed
The audience were our inner souls which captured every move we made
Poet
Masego Nkuna
A Very Merry Christmas
T’ was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Spoons were stirring the drinks
Held by every souse
The shot glasses were filled
With three kinds of whiskey
Though were often spilled
When Myrna got frisky
The highballs were placed
On the chimney with care
Until Uncle Nicholas
Tripped over the chair
By chance no kids awoke
Because of that slouch
But Grandpa slid off
His warm comfy couch
“What was that,” He asked
“Was there a collision?”
Which in this case there was,
And not one of his visions
Yet, before lying back down
Gramps had one more night cap
Then slumped onto the couch
And squashed poor Nips the cat
While out at the bar
There arose such a noise
Because Myrna was flirting
With some of the boys
I sprung from the recliner
To help my dear cousin
And saw lads sucking shots
From her pierced belly button
Away to the window
I flew for my life
But when looking outside
There was my modest wife
Dancing in circles
Around the snowman
Though minus a coat
Being half in the can
When I hopped to the door
But who should appear?
My dear uncle George
With a cooler of beer
I had to think fast
For my wife and Nick
And for Myrna inside
Yes, I had to think quick
Then came inspiration
To set up the maneuver
Of thumbing my phone
For the app to Uber
I had fifteen minutes
Until the taxi’s came
So I shouted and called
Everyone by name
Now Nicholas, now Myrna
Now dear Grandpa G
Yo Uncle George
Climb in a taxi
I called to my cousins
In the midst of a brawl
It’s time to drive away
For Pete’s sake, drive away all!
And then in a twinkling
I saw on the roof
My wife of all things;
Still high on forty proof
I didn’t call out
Knowing she’d crash
Yet she jumped in the chimney
Landing on the heaped ash
She was dressed in a robe
That turned coal black
And I was surprised
Coz she clutched a small sack
Then my wife oddly asked
If I thought she looked chubby
But I knew that trap
Being her hubby
I spoke not a word
As she quickly rose
But when I picked her up
Tore her panty hose
I sprung to the bedroom
Flopped her on the bead
While the sack she held
Knocked me upside the head
But the bag just contained
A large carrot and stones
And ‘Merry Christmas To All’
Displayed on her phone.
Cabbie with A Heart
This latest news about a selfless taxi driver…
The kindness out of his heart is a source for wonder ….
In the daily business of ferrying his charges for a fee…
He works long hours , morning till dusk before going off free ….
As a family man like any other, he provides for his family with his daily takings..…
Time is ever precious, more ferrying means better daily earnings…
Just as any other hard working Malaysian, he always there to give service…
Doing his utmost best each day in providing a transportation service…
For a working man such as he, where time and his service means money…
It surprises to know this taxi driver willingly sacrifices his time and money….
All for an aged yet loving couple, who are yet to be classified as senior citizens..
Who are only in their late forties and yet the woman has chronic kidney disease…
This stricken woman requires a thrice-a-week treatment at the dialysis center….
The fare is an exorbitant RM30 to pay even if the center is but a short drive away
It is always a trying time to hail for a taxi willing to take them to the center..
For the word is out that they are unable to pay the full fare, even not at all..
One fine day, as they scoured in vain for a taxi to take them to the center..…
Up came Mr Jong, an elderly and sprightly taximan, willing to ferry them over…
The kind hearted soul in him accepts only RM20 for his service, if possible..
He’s such a good man, giving discounted rides and payments in installments..
Taxi driver Jong, 61 years old, thinks he is doing something simple…
Out of the goodness in his heart, he is now on their call three times-a-week…
It matters not, Jong wisely observes, I am Chinese and they are Malays in need…
God willing, I will stay healthy and I trust them to pay me when they able indeed..
So fellow Malaysians, do marvel at this display of humanity on the streets…
There are countless other good deeds being played out that are not called to heed…
But this episode runs contrary to the prejudices and the mistrust on racial lines..
It calls for brotherhood love, as the same colored blood runs common beneath our skins..
http://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2015/12/16/a-kind-and-caring-taxi-driver-cabbie-drives-couple-to-dialysis-centre-without-expecting-payment/
the serene people whose ease of manner
once made him yearn and confabulate
are laughable cartoonish and piteous now
could have been much worse he said
as his last breath left his scarred throat
feral hand closing his own eyes
St. Pudenda greeted him at the tall gates
under the lights at Checkpoint Charlie
Mariachi trumpets rolled out the mauve carpet
and a dog barked from behind the garbage cans
from all infinity we end up with this
a realm of syntax governed by ambiguity
she read from a large ledger atop a marble pedestal
why a ledger rather than a laptop is anyone's guess
apparently the vanguard party had been evicted
by Frankie Boxcars and the Hollywood mafia eons ago
in the great schism over the digitization of paradise
no jury of his peers he noted with unease
nothing of telling import she imparted casually
eyes darting up and down the pages
as if something previously detected had been airbrushed
arrested for self amplification she went on
and sorcery and coughing in quiet places
how did you sleep she asked with a beaming smile
I don't know I was asleep he intoned
I suppose we can reveal the joke she mused
but I was dreaming he countered
backed into a tight corner by snarling lap dogs
tossed into a kidnap taxi with a sack over my head
marched with a gun in my back
through a forest of clichés
fed lines from a hideous new sitcom
about sex among the homeless
a weekly broadcast on Piñata Vision
of course it was more fun
not being an active target
but what choice did I have
knowing what I know
poor dear thing she continued
there is a better version of everything
a law of nature completely natural
and yes it is densely beautiful and
smoldering with awe like a corpse in a bathtub
try to avoid the truly grotesque
in favor of the marginally grotesque
we love having you in our science dept.
with the state secrets and midget **** videos
masquerading as the way things actually are
where the misty cows moo in contentment
and the Vaseline runs hot behind sanctuary doors
horrors altering the course of suns
between the here and the there
every bit of it needless she giggled
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/