Short Sissies Poems

Anger is for sissies.
Does that make you angry?
Too bad.
Sissy....

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Scorching sun,
Settling skyscraper
     Streams of streets,
Sirens sighing, Skinny sissies


awoh awoh...

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When growing up, thought poems were for sissies
Sure was misguided, it now allows for my sillies
To come front and center
Hold on to your dentures
Don't want you to pop a split back of your civvies...

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Go ahead!
Stop hiding and being such
Political sissies, show us your hand!

Say what?
You never played poker!
Go ahead, get cajones, use the Joker!

Come on tough guys and guyettes,
Put on your big boy pants!
Stop hiding in the Finnochio tent!...

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I once received that call and I hung up
Giving up is for sissies 
Death is the beginning not the end
Tears shed and looks lost

Understand this
Little ones face this everyday
Are you weaker then them?
Stand strong so that

They see Death as the beginning

Not The End...

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Touching deep inside
Feeling my way through
Avoiding all false pride
To find what I should do

Open up the skies
Let the rain fall down on me
I’ll catch the drops and stop the cries
Water flowers, swim the sea

Life is not for sissies
I’ll trust the voice within
Get up off my knees
Bow my head and win

Jean O’Malley Polatnick
Life Is Not For Sissies
5.28.15...

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I cry at Chain Bridge
in my third year as a tenderfoot.
It's the same thing,
when father takes his time
showing up and the earth
gapes all the way to chaos.
It's when the money runs out
and the business fails.
The scouts all laugh
as they stand near their
neat packs with all their
plans piled beside them.
I am 13 in the dangerous
age of sissies. 
I wonder what 
the crying does....

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You cannot make me sing! Yelled the young boy, Jim.
He thought choirs were for sissies, not for him.
His grandma asked him next, so he tried it out.
Attending the first session with attitude and a pout.

You would be great! Said his Grandma Joyce.
You have an amazing baritone like voice!
He is worldwide famous with bells that ring. 
His entourage is so glad he was led to sing....

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We old folks know what day it is
by the things we don't repeat!  
And when Tuesday rolls around
We drag the garbage to the street! 

Wednesday means the can comes in 
And NEVER would we forget
That way we know its Thursday 
And on Friday we can sit!

Saturday and Sunday 
company's at the door
look forward to the gifts
Who could ask for anything more?

 
 Judy Konos 5/12/16...

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I cry at Chain Bridge.
It's the same thing,
when father takes his time
showing up and the earth
gapes all the way to chaos.
It's when the money runs out
and the business fails.
The scouts all laugh
as they stand near their
neat packs with all their
plans stacked beside them.
I wonder what the crying does.
When I cry
someone warm
strokes me,
kneeling in front
with curled face,
warm breath,
return to Eden,
at 13 in the dangerous
age of sissies....

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