Fritz was a runt, a broken-tailed Doxie with moxie,
Half-a-dog high, a dog-and-a half long, quite coxy.
He clickety-clacked down the hall like Fred Astair
minus Fred’s grace and sophisticated debonair.
Even with that, his wife Hilda found him most sexy.
With a hitch in my get-along
which set me wrong
my get-up-and-go
is sadly misplaced
it done got up and went
cannot be traced
it's really too tragic
my mojo is spent
I need someone who
versed in voodoo
will weave their magic
do some hoodoo
come through with the juju
who'll hand me an amulet
give me a charm
which won't go amiss
so I draw no harm
with a little gris-gris
to take up the slack
and make sure my moxie
is right back on track
Wandering, ever wandering
straddling cultural divides
Never homing, ever-roaming
o’er fretful borders or oceans’ high tides
The hands of a tailor, a mender, a fixer-upper
conning the vernacular just enough for supper
Wandering, ever-wandering through darkest woods
a sharp eye for the worth of second-hand goods …
Known to one and all, the disheveled figure
makes his way with aught but moxie and grit
The wandering Jew, scraggly beard, ear-locks and spit
pride in his bearing ~ scraping by on faith and wit
There's a ball on the ground, and I think
I should grab that for Moxie.
Dog food is on sale, and my cart is
halfway down the aisle
before I remember.
Evening comes. Our dog park time.
But there is no retriever
clamoring to go.
Squirrels caper on the fence,
teasing, teasing,
but he's not there to see
He's been gone for a long time,
but he lives still in my heart,
his image so vivid that, even now,
I can't fully comprehend that
my beautiful golden dog
is gone forever.
I must be content that he rests now
on a hill overlooking fields
he loved to explore.
As for me, I seem to have lost my moxie
when I lost my Moxie.
fully cognizant
of what is fair and just;
doing exactly that without fear,
or while incurring the slings and arrows
of fierce opposition.
that's what "moxie" looks like!
Bite Size Poem No.42 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Date written: 04-09-2022
I never talk to others like slack,
But for me, I’ll always talk back.
Have a blessed birthday, Princess,
Living on earth requires moxie;
Weathering the storm needs firmness,
To overcome calamity.
Topic: Birthday of Princess April I. Bardon (April 01)
my Love mustered moxie
and disused me one night:
she left me victim
to a pitiful plight
while she raised the gall
to doll herself up
and go to a ball
on the arm of a date
while I languished alone
with a case of cold beer
that I drank to forget
the heartbreak she caused,
the pain and the doubt
of first being jilted—
those longnecks went “pop”
and quickly got swilled
while in dimness she danced
and merrily tittered
that regrettable night
of drinking those beers,
I drank them alone
all bitter and rueful
while she was out dancing,
holding tight to a tux,
one I hadn’t rented—
how drunk and forlorn
that Love of mine turned me
the night she found moxie
to leave me alone
and utterly lonely.
Moxie's has a lot of moxie calling their restaurant Moxie's
In fact if you want to know what I think, it's really kinda cocky
Their ego's busting out
Best meals they shout
Great for getting attention in fact it's quite foxy
I can read for days,
and write through the hypes,
I can age old beer with emotional nights,
I can eat a whole pie,
and pray not to die,
I can sleep with no sound,
just like you hide behind the pound,
I can see the wind,
I can taste the sky,
I can see that I wasn't here first-
because...look! There! That's the real guy!
I can find a foundation,
and prove procreation-
But I can't do it alone,
I need gyration,
...So far away from being old,
from singing songs that get played out by the bowl,
...But the apes did there part,
and so did the Nazi's...
and so did the internet...
and so did the moxie...
Because real people like jocking-
and fake ones like coughing,
Needy nights keep popping!
While wasted winter is still flopping.
When a dead prince is beating and haughty-
you are still lying-
and you are still bossing!
So keep reading the facts,
keep praying for slack,
keep wasting precious brain,
and making another feel insane,
come out and mac!
Do it again, and again,
and again and again!
Be gone in a pack-
like micro germs-
you discovered my nack.
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