Written by: Vaquero Waddie
----------------------------------------------
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth
when you're chomping at the bit
the Withers of a horse is used
to measure height
Straight from the horse's mouth
believe what he say's
don't fail to wear your Halter
in your certain disipline
find yourself a true lover
one you call your freind
Backing the wrong horse
will have ya'll airing out ya'll's lungs
I could have told you she didn't
want all that kissy stuff
tire of you before
it was over
cause she plumb had enough
a great relationship
has it all
walk trot and cantar
slow when you need it slow
fast when it needs ah-cantar
you'll know when it's right
a smooth steady pace
I reckon all things like this
it the same all over the place
Only the very young & very beautiful can be so aloof
Hanging out with the boys all swagger & poise
Our new dashing wannabe tyro is ample proof
(coined by Tom with aplomb.. purloined by me)
Mused Caribbean calypso cool fused with well private school
Cherished plush rhapsodies segue with relished lush melodies
Lips licks fancy flicks & tricks picnics phoenix from the Ashes
Remedies for believers lulled by lullabies from lyrical levers
Poetic shapes lacy lines never frenetic balletic aesthetic
The boundary rope dope trope Jacob is our new hope
The computer says “YES” suitor for the future prophetic
Or down with the kids well Bethell’s the real deal rookie
Badgers hearts swell feels like proper Test cricket nookie
Tell his chilled southpaw drawer got more than Cookie
While other than Joe everyone else was playing hooky
Golden curls & olden twirls.. BET HELL for the bookie
The Secret Service don't need to shout
They're randy buggers inside and out!
Wherever they go
The whole world will know
They got the girl (reeled in like a trout)!
On the internet I am a rookie,
But the web site said they would book me
A tele-health call
And my Doc's on the ball
But I had a mouthful of cookie!
Crying...with a wet diaper
The two-year-old boy weeps
Mom and dad still sleep
His five-year-old sister awakes- hyper
She thinks- "I'll give him a cookie"
The boy stops bawling- good thinks, by the rookie
Bite Size Poem No28 Poetry
Contest Sponsored by Line Gauthier
11/29/2021
THE ROOKIE
He said there is no “GOD”
She said it might be true
They, “both-in-one”, recounted scen-a-rios
To explain the stand He-she took;
I was sooo hard on rocks:
And where was HE!
I sooo needed him when my loved one was sick:
And where was HE!
I fell, real hard, and needed an Anchor:
And where was HE!
I cried, so hard, because I thought I was just a Patsy:
And where was HE!
My mom and dad broke-up:
And where was HE!
I was going wayward, with no conscience to tickle or trigger:
And the same….
Where was HE!
Then it Dawns….
HE! Is and was there….
Always, in everything…
In the Good and Bad,
The beautiful and ugly,
The preferred and disgusted…
And,
He-She understands,
I “am” and “was” a
ROOKIE!
In life-experiences
In my suffering- Perhaps!
In my “ardent” search for HIM; and
For answers….. Thus,
HE’s there and truly EXISTS….
BY ASANGALISAH AKANTERE ISAIAH
Lesson plan, lesson plan, so full of detail,
Lesson plan, lesson plan, you simply can't fail.
Every second, every minute's,
Got something good in it;
So-o-o
It's time to proceed;
You're just bound to succeed!
An hour later you're tired
Of results undesired,
From a class uninspired,
Whose students conspired
To get the teacher unhired.
Lesson plan, lesson plan, so full of detail,
How in the world did you manage to fail?
E Even
A A
R Republican
T Thanks
H Him
Forgot what you call it.
Jim Horn
winter vacation rookie
still cutting on the air
woman thinks he is crazy
shakes her head as earth returns
heat now on
woman now content
funyuns being munched on
dr. pepper being gulped down
up the road we go
down the road we ride
snowflakes seen
eye big as saucers
yep, it is no longer summer
nope, the feeling does not change
yep, life is no longer a bummer
nope, things are no longer strange
winter vacation rookie
still wearing swim trunks under pants
woman thinks he has bumped his head
man reminds woman that the hotel has an indoor pool and hot tub
woman kisses man
man kisses woman back
woman gives man a fist pound
man squeezes woman's right breast for stress management purposes only
( ROOKIE ON THE SOUP )
My name is Jasmine I use rhymes when I write, so my poems are in a loop.
I found a new place to share my poetry, and I`m a rookie on the soup.
I hope everyone welcomes me here, so far everyone is nice.
Soon once I feel comfortable, I will be a premium for a price.
I use material that comes from my heart, and I put them into words.
I have plenty of time and patience, my poems will come in herds.
So sit right back and enjoy my work, and tell me what you think.
Alot of my pieces are refreshing, so relax, read and have a drink.
Criticism is welcomed, so please be up front and tell the truth.
I hope I create a vibe here, or somewhat of a sleuth.
I`ll be happy if at least one poem, effects someones life.
Make them laugh or cause a tear, maybe take away some strife.
I have found a home that I can share my thoughts, express how I feel.
Also read other poems, and tell them whats my deal.
Thank you for excepting me, and having me be in your group.
Hello again I`m Jasmine Cruz, and I`m a rookie on the soup
The Hooky, Cookie, Rookie
Dr. James E. Martin
©January, 2014
They say his nick-name is “Cookie.”
From school he’d often play hooky.
He was no fool,
Was actually quite cool,
It is evident he was no rookie.
I'm the rookie of the century, doing something new for your eyes to behold.
Whether I'm locked up in a cage or outside looking at the rain.
Am I really something to stare upon? You answer that and please keep it to yourself.
While I set the stage, my enemies crumble, imagine once I start turning up the heat!
I'm like Doc Gooden in his first Major League season.
Fresher than febreze, I'm never sweating.
What a lie but all the guys branded me as the lion of the group.
What can I say, it was unexpected for me to be so phenomenal or am I just a
natural-born-pitcher?
Maybe it's my three-point shots that's got everyone in a haze.
I can't tell what the coaches think about me or my attitude.
High School's a drag but one thing's for sure: I'm the pride of my school.
They call me the Viper because you never know when I'ma strike gold.
I can never stop writing, it's just who I am.
Whether they call me the Viper, a Beast, a Monster, or just by my real name, I'm sure as
Heaven keeping my head high.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.