Shooing Poems | Examples

Crap Shooting Boomboom

Crap shooing boomboom
Throws all his money away.
Wonders why he's poor.

Snakes He'd Shoo

Have a Guiness and let’s toast St. Patrick
Whether laddie, lass or old codger geriatric
A bold gent with such clout
All Eire’s snakes he shooed out
Never has there been a saint so theatric! 
Robert
                                 
I am an old codger geriatric  
But I will raise a toast to ST. Patrick  
For shooing those snakes  
Away for our sakes  
He definitely was Saint Fantastic
Beryl

The Christmas Alligator

He prowl very still across 
the calm merky waters 
I can see him and he can 
see me with his big yellow 
eyes his pupils are lime 
green slowly he crawls not 
even shooing the cranes 
from off his back he crawls 
past the woodstorck perching 
on one leg the tall Cypress 
trees seems to sway as the 
moisture dampens the earth 
it's July already Christmas 
trees are ready to be cut and 
shipped off in time for the 
Christmas season I love this 
time of year although the heat 
covers the swamp not a breeze 
in sight the female alligators 
panted all night laying eggs 
upon the drift wood herons 
flying high as egrets feast 
on snakes the sun peeks in 
around noon as the alligators 
approached the grass sun 
bathing watching the golfers 
tee off sipping brandy in all 
this heat commotion beckons 
someone fishing just lost a limb 
my mind wanders the nature 
of this prehistoric giant unseen 
until prey invade his space again
chomp bones breaking cracking 
like branches the lake swells wails 
screeching lots of feathers the 
deer rush through the forest just
keep moving continue on stop your 
squawking and keep on walking

My Muse

My Muse 

This muse – personal trainer of my pen,
 This restless spirit pacing in imagination’s sanctuary,
Gathers fleeting moments into anticipation’s tabernacle
Swaddles divine laughter, brooding gloom and holy fire
With scented leaves from her perfumed garden
 Hallowed space clothed in inspiration
  Where my love and loss embrace in genesis
Shooing away paralyzed procrastination 
To transcend into creation lyrics and lines
 In a cloistered hermitage of rhymes and rhythms
Drifting through defiant midnight in dopplers
 With ultrasound colors of fading rainbows
  Like pinpoints of ice or fleeting romantic dews -
   Drawn from vaults of the eternal’s benediction –
    Waking my insomniac meditations
So in my deafness I may hear her abiding presence,
 In mystical and magic lines like prisms glow
Follow through
  Dusky passages of visions
   Poetic shame tattooed in rust
Enthralled by
   Her faceless sacred songs played in my heart
So we join hands 
Then lift our tousled words in nude prayers and pleas
 In the unbroken sacramental circle of life
  Cried to the four winds, seas and oceans
 To praise the infinite everlasting.

1-4-23

Shooing Carmens Suiters Away

Carmen has never tried to be pretty
Her six brothers warned her to stay plain.
But as she grew, she could not help herself.
Now they are scaring suiters away on a regular basis.
I got Jose, you get Pedro.
Done!
I shooed Thomas, you shoo Jesus.
You are asking me to shoo Jesus?

Gonna Live Forever

Looks like this old geezer
Will live on forever 
When I'm out for a stroll
Gait's light as a feather

Most folks mistake me
For a much younger dude
They think I'm about sixty
Don't want to be rude

So they guess around seventy
Some guess eighty or so
Certainly don't blame them
My age doesn't show

I'm proud as a peacock
This image I'm showing
For a man who's reached 87
My pride's overflowing

Owe it to a life filled with joy
Singing just happy songs
Shooing away the nasty clouds
Sun shines all day long

Judge Me Not, Just Wear My Biting Shoes

Judge me not, just wear my biting shoes
And then see, wear no blinkers of views
Of which little I care,
Nor care such shoes to wear,
And there’s no room I think
To paint peacock’s eggs pink,
Or else wait and hope I lose my muse.
______________________________________
Limerick | 06.09.2022 | Humour

Poet’s note: Every writer, prose or poetry, every performer, painter or player passes through this phase—to feel like shooing off the critics like a speck of dust on the dress he wears. It is good to feel sure of what one writes. But every lump of gold has to pass through the test of fire to purify.

Rye Whiskey, Rye Whiskey

Snug in the corner I saw the lad lie,
Fire in his belly, a cork in his eye;
And wordlessly sleeping, a-snooze in his bed,
His words, when awakened, go straight to your head.

Alluring to look at, golden is he,
There when you need him as sure as can be;
And anxious to aid you, he doesn't think twice,
The cost of his concert, your soul is the price.

Then, tell him to go now, bid him goodbye;
Leave him to slumber, let sleeping dogs lie!
Tell him his concord you are shooing away,
The lad with the nostrum may no longer stay.

Well! time he was leaving so, show him the door!
A flagon of whiskey a-smash on the floor.

Above Looking Down

Above Looking Down

Above the earth, floating on air,
In gas spheres upward extending,
Lackadaisical without care,
Storm clouds are brewing, so it’s time for shooing.

In a gas sphere upward extending,
I see creation gone amok;
Storm clouds are brewing, so it’s time for shooing
And to seek shelter from the havoc.

Seeing creation gone amok
Is likened to sheep (among wolves)
That seek shelter from the havoc
And see in the sky flying doves.

The sheep bleat when attacked by wolves,
Calling the shepherd to save them,
And I fly free with peaceful doves,
Sadly looking down on the mayhem.

Watching the shepherd coming to save them,
Lackadaisically without care.
Sadly, I look down on the mayhem
From above the earth, floating on air.

Summer Dream

When I emerged from that rough sea
I wore a crown of seaweeds in my hair
Because the mermaids whispered to me, 
"Our home, please do take care"
I looked around and saw rocks
Staring horribly at me, yelling silently, 
"Stop wrecking us! Stop the clocks!"
I felt the gentle pushing of a tiny wave
Tugging my feet, as if shooing me away
I heard its cry, or was I just deceived? 
"Go home, don't scathe me."
Nauseated, I blinked faster as I might,
In a split second, blinded by the raging sunlight.

Boulder Colorado Shootings

A tragic mass shooing has occurred once more.
This time, in a Boulder, Colorado grocery store.
Today, it seems there is no safe place to go.
Incidence of gun violence seems to grow.
The number of murdered victims amounted to ten.
It looks like we cannot keep this from happening again. 

From a news story found on CNN.com

Susie's Sunny Summers

Susie Smith spent several summers swimming salty seas
Surfing seemed safer than slippery slopes on snow skis
Until susie was swiftly swallowed by swells of super size 
and several sand sharks startled her in a shocked surprise
Susie Smith still spends sunny summers on sandy shores
shooing away seagulls that steal her scrumptious smores
Susie searches for sea shells and starfish in shallow shoals
squealing as sudden summer squalls soak her as she strolls




December 30, 2020
Tongue Twister Challenge
Sponsored by:  Joe Sandler

Bruised and Confused

Try to think positive in spite of the news
It's sure the best policy for shooing the blues
Trust me, I'm old
Been down the long road 
Seen lots of scenery, been bruised and confused

Crazed Raccoon

the voices are particularly loud
today, they taunt and plague me with their pleas
the label I hide on the wine bottle
they ask me if I'm drinking yellow tail

I take another swig, and then one more
step cautiously to toss it in the trash
they told me of the psycho cat’s demise
but I still watch out for that crazed raccoon

eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach
that whale that lives under must be awake
people in masks walk by, avoid my eyes
as though I'm ruining their summer day

Security keeps shooing me away
their taser guns ensuring I comply
sabbatical dreams after quarantine:
some place to lie down and be left alone

Written 3 Nov 2020
In collaboration with Kim Rodrigues [her lines are in bold]

Nostalgia

There it stands, desolate and alone
That roofless shell where the winds
Still whisper of the past
When  scampering children's squeals
 And wheeling seabirds' cries
Rose thinly through the air.
A thatched croft  from which a healthy living was scraped
A shirt-sleeved man, braces showing,
 Bald pate bunneted against the sun,
Bent over to tend his plot
An aproned woman cheerfully shooing away the hens
To collect the eggs for the evening meal
Beside a silvery sea stretching
To the horizon
 Hiding the city lights and its imagined pleasures
Until those dreams drew the young away
Watched sadly  by  the elderly pair
Their exodus damning
The island to its desolation
Where still  the birds' cries squeal 
And the wind  through the grass softly whispers
 Surrounding the now  silent croft
 In the salt sharp air
What homely  pleasures such a life once offered 
Now the graveyard of fading memories
While the once busy city streets
Stand empty drained of life
As the virus continues to take its toll

• Short Shooing Poems
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