Sanford Poems - Poems about Sanford

Now at my workplace, waiting for my corporate lead, and no sooner said there she was as everybody behind me being fellow workers--not working, before she reached the front desk counter, I turned quickly to them and told them to continue their obligations people are working, and with that said, they went back to work,...

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There’s Thunderbird Wild Irish Rose But my favorite is Ripple Mix it with champagne And you have champipple...

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My Favorite Junkyard was owned by Fred G. Sanford The G stood for Good Times He was full of surprise with humorous delight As a kid I would visit his junkyard every night If he wasn’t filling me with laughter, he was filling me with cheer Oh, how I wish that Fred G was still here He ran the junkyard with...

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I wrote and read this poem at my grandmothers funeral. While growing up, Toni; Steven and I saw our Grandparents sacrifice, so much of their own lives, without a fuss. Along with our Mother, they did it just for us. Though Grandpa he was called, he was our father and in Mom and Grandma, we had two amazing Mothers. We loved them...

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(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM) When I offered two bucks for an old lamp, Fred Sanford faked a heart attack. That made me really mad so I gave the old man a smack. His son hid in the kitchen because he didn't want a piece of this. I'll unload on a person's ass if they make me pissed. They took...

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