Big Ben chimes again
With Bazball zen
One of those men
From special stock
Shepherd of the flock
Hewn from strewn Volcanic rock
From New Zealand's Southern Isle
But only there for a wee while
Mighty flame haired flair laird
Without doubt more about Blighty's North East
They forged this bellicose beast
Ripsnorting sporting cavorting squire
Glutton & gourmand gorged feast
Test town crier
Puffed buffed chest
Inspire..burning
Proper copper topper
Churning fire..
Endless zest..desire
No dull lull
No bore draw
Simple...aspire
To score more!
It's not arcane
Stokes campaign & reign
Train like you're insane
Always entertain!
Remember us flounder
In the gutter
Trounced...17 on the bounce
Could we have found
Pound for pounder
Better all rounder
Nutter...go getter
Sounder founder
Run rate record setter
Of the evolution
And revolution
Of Test cricket
Toe to toe
Blow by blow
Heave ho
Give us a ticket
In the Baz ball or
Ben buzz grotto
Gung Ho motto
You will never know
Till you give it a go!
"Prize-winning huge pumpkins",
pitched the little seed bag.
Purchasing them with hopes,
preparing fertile soil,
planting them with much care,
patiently waiting, and...
pleased - a sixty-pounder!
Stephanie did not know about sausage gravy
Until she decided to join the US Navy.
What is this delicious stuff? She asked her first mate.
Biscuits and gravy; ain’t it enormously great?
She wanted gravy on her eggs, gravy on her toast.
She loved sausage gravy so much, actually the most.
I want gravy in my coffee and gravy in my tea!
She was a six hundred pounder when she decided to marry Lee.
Root toot soupeé soup
Hoot hoop hoopeé hoop
Eat your soup
Then hola hoop
Moogoo the foolee new
Did pounder to start a quest
Red green yellow blue
Hoopée hoo hoopée do
Eat your soup
Then hula hoop
The foodo dooble dee do
Went about poundering
Soopee soup
Not a wink did he sleep
Dooble dee do night and day
Poundering the soopee soup
Fidel Dee de dooble de do
Along came Moogoo
Fidle Dee do
Eat your soup
Then hula hoop
In darkness I found refuge,
Those brown wave elements forms my imaginations,
I suffered in silence,because I refused to speak,
They wondered why I was mute?
I'm like an abandoned drum which cannot give greenlight about its nature,
Morning takes my happiness,
I await the dark to wipe the solemn tears that flows from the banks of my eyelids.
My throats are dried from the constant calling on death to sweep my legs of the earth,
The moments keeps getting tough as the memories keep killing me beneath my mind,
In sadness I found comfort.
Then I spoke,
Words of unending bitterness,
I could feel my tongue terrified to the words that accumulated my emotions
My mind couldn't understand the phenomenal feelings of regret.
Word that thwarted my beings ,
Words that defined my dejection,
I regretted ever letting my lower and upper lips meet together and review my great injection.
I was told words of blames
I shouted in the martyrdom of my voice,
In excruciating pain, my words were made to stand against it's beholder.
I lost my effective sleeping pills to thoughts,
I could only pounder on why ?
These were just hypothesis; they do not define me.
My mind sold out
When you bought me
For three hundred and sixty-five.
But remember,
Love wasn't there.
Yes, I am the least of your pet
But more than that
I am your happiness
For your money
But only for a moment.
I'm your slave
For flesh, for sale
The lowest price in town.
Was my dignity pounder on man?
Look at the back of my tag price
Lays the emanating love.
Hold on to that which sets your spirit at ease
For me it's glittering ocean seas
And a slightly salty breeze
In the shade of dancing trees
Think not of the workplace freeze
And the fatigue that haunts your knees
Think of the water's tantalizing tease
As if saying come into the water please
Where you will laugh and wheeze
In your imagination are all the keys
To hold onto that which sets your spirit at ease
For me it's glittering ocean seas
And perhaps a quarter pounder with cheese
How was it before the pushing pelvis
had me flopping onto slick latex?
I am arriving mother,
still seeking the hands
that caught me.
There has been a lot of rubber
left on the road.
This six pounder is even now
leaving for somewhere else -
still slipping through.
Time to Go?
By George W. Clever-----9 September 2020
Have we over-stayed our welcome
At the party for Depression and Booming Babies?
I think they want us to go.
But to where I want to know? Here is your hat
What is the hurry?
You’re not needed here anymore
Anyone over 50 Line up at the door
Crowding Florida as you do
God’s waiting room don’t you know
Holding us up for the younger show Kevorkian’s Plan at your command
He’s gone ahead, you know the man
Made death easier on demand
We can put a pandemic in your hand Your values are old and obsolete
Where is your cell phone and computer?
In the work place you can’t compete
Just a cranky Coot and Cooter Patriotism, Constitution, Bible pounder
You probably believe everyone a sinner
Do you expect me for family dinners?
Maybe you’ll be a COVID-19 lottery winner
A CHOICE TO SUFFER
The more I Pounder,
I wander in wonder;
I can't think further,
Cos I'll still borther;
If true love is the order,
Then love is a boarder.
If to love is to suffer,
And not to love is to suffer,
I have to choose to suffer,
Cos if I don't, I'll suffer.
I love animal facts.
Could read them all day long.
Could write them in a song.
An alligator can
live 100 years.
Well isn’t that just wrong?
An elephant tooth is the size of a
Newborn baby, a human baby.
On steroids – a nine pounder.
The female lion does ninety percent
Of the hunting
Because her husband is more
Of a rounder
A parliament is what we
call a familial
Group of owls
And a male ostrich
can make a lion-like howl.
I love animal facts.
Could read them all day long.
Could write them in a song.
A 'Good Old Days Market' sign seen
With arrows that point to the scene;
There hidden by wall
Of stone, very tall,
I ventured and found behind screen,
Some tables with items arranged...
Such irony...somewhat deranged!
There spread out in view...
Still wanted by few...
Remains, by new tech, now estranged!
Typewriters galore, 'modern' style.
Old telephones that you must dial.
Flip cellphones that close...
Eight-track videos...
Oh, such a 'nostalgic' junk pile!
Some huge V H S movie cams,
The weight of two five-pounder hams.
Fax senders...hand fed...
Received...in hands read,
And heaps of outdated programs!
Old Apple computers, diskettes;
Recorders with lots of cassettes.
Fat TVs with tubes,
Old Kodaks, flashcubes...
Those 'good' old days? Gone! No regrets!
Sandra M. Haight
The pyramid is an ancient tomb
But for soul it is a womb
Build from lime stone slabs that together perfectly fit
This construction was quite engineering feat
I sometimes wonder
When ancient world I pounder
Ten thousand years ago Magi walked the ancient world
And if one travels their footsteps would secrets unfold
They prized Lapis Lazuli more than gold
And believed secrets to life it would hold
As the sky shines with thousand stars
The Magi by looking at them and planets like Jupiter and Mars
Destinies of man and Earth they tried to foretell
And I wonder did the leave something like the pyramid as well
Pyramid not of lime stone yellow brown hue
But made of lapis lazuli royal blue
And maybe instead of soul looking for divine place
They left something more tangible like ship that travels in outer space
The ship that to whole spirit and divinity including Omni-verse
Is what the ship that exchanges time for speed is to our known universe?
Here he comes again
The keyboard pounder on the loose
Sure wish he’d learn to type
Without the finger abuse
Or overuse of
The Backspace key
Don’t smack me
I didn’t lose your pictures
You should have backed them up
Before you opened that attachment
And invited that worm
Into my circuitry
You bum
Go get some medicine
And wipe that nose mist
Off my monitor
That’s disgusting
Don’t open that file
Here comes that Trojan Horse
You’re on your own now
I just don’t care anymore
Hey, who are you
Where’d my user go
What’s that CD you’re shoving in me
My memory
My memory
My mem…………..
Hello
Welcome to Windows
© 2015 Earl Parsons
E L E P H A N T!
The king of the thick Jungle,
Of five-
Not height but senses,
With-
A long nose like pounder,
Ears like winnows,
Legs like mortars,
All in all like a walking black rock,
Be possible to train to dance by a human,
How goes the human beyond?
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