Short Woodwork Poems

Child 2432
Mincemeat rabbit
JR7 4ST
Woodwork
Thunderbirds....

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April showers 
thunder on varnished woodwork 
wormy fine dining...

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handsome like the Marlboro man
I stared at the old lady, thinking it was funny
then I met him, a handsome jackaroo
jillaroos would come out of the woodwork now...

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Out of Woodwork Came Big Jerk

God said somewhere out of woodwork,
Would come Trump who is a big jerk;
Had our fill;
Always will;
Loves telling lies while he will lurk.

Jim Horn...

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I like to wear Christmas sweaters in June
To show that it can be done
To see who will try and fix me or correct me
It brings the bosses out of the woodwork.
Also because I probably did not find them until this week...

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Guess who just popped out of the woodwork
Good old Drake Eszes, can't hide my smirk
A friend from back when
So great he's back again
Hope he stays showing off his clever quirks


© Jack Ellison 2015...

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Here's an ode to make us laugh,
Boomers resilient to the last,
Survived  high school in the sixties,
Where we learnt cookery,
Girls did not have dicks,
Couldn't do woodwork, over it!
Instead, made a pudding of suet,
Fat, fat, fat, eating to rue it!...

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When often intestate a rich man dies,
From out of the woodwork suers materialize.
Long unheard from relations from far and near,
Each one crying and vying for a share,
As they petition the lawyer to find a solution
To an awful case of "heir pollution"....

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money-grubbing relatives
oozed out of the woodwork and the shadows of greed
when Josephine’s death was announced
distant cousins she had not seen for centuries
demanded to know if she had left them anything
their audacity was irritating to those close to her
who had been taking care of her for years before the end....

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The circle of lily white feet,
dorm girls,
like birds that flew the coop,
planning that dreaded strategic move,
the Turkey drop,
as new boyfriends came out of the woodwork,
even the local military men
stationed near the college town,
whispered a brighter promise than the home town dullness
that was fading
like a ghost of Christmas past....

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The people who write,
for no apparent reason,
thinking maybe
that they are just wasting their life
scribbling down what the world calls poetry
or some other dumb name.

The people who write stuff,
if asked why?
No doubt could not say for sure.

Those people
if they had to stop writing
for any reason at all,

would take up knitting,
or woodwork
and probably
would not be very good at it....

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The weirdest of the weird often crawl out of the woodwork
onto pages and call themselves poems. The poets barely claiming them.
The Raven was one of those.

The strangest of the weirdest of the weird are remembered for centuries.
Poe’s poetry is being studied and revered today, 
two hundred and seventy-one years after his supposed death.

Poe will never die, thanks to The Raven and the Tell-Tale Heart....

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The ultimate bug saver is my cousin Clementine.
She makes them into friends and helps them dine.
Termites have eaten the woodwork off all of her walls.
Crickets and roaches follow her to all of her malls.

She cannot step on one, she says it would make her ill.
They are all over her house, in her yard, up and down her hill.
Here is a cockroach, a water bug, and an army of ants.
Thank you very much she says, cramming them into her pants....

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They are in the woodwork of my mind 
framed memories fixed, nailed in time.
My father is there, silent as wood.
I sought to know him, but never could.
Mother’s presence splinters the air
I hear her still, voice cobbled in care.
Older sisters emerge, a polished veneer
whispering what others won’t go near.
An older oak-stout brother appears
he ingrained  me with nightmarish fears.
Best memories end a blossomed tree
when a surprise baby brother comes to be....

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They crawl out of the woodwork
Shedding lots of crocodile tears
Grieving for an ancient relative
They’ve not visited for many years
‘Auntie Annie’ is barely warm
But now you see the relations swarm
Waiting for the will to be read
They rub their hands with glee
Hoping they will be left
Lots of lovely money

‘Grieving relatives’ is rubbish!! Some are taking the mick ….
These mercenary vultures simply make me sick!

28th January 2017...

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Trump's little tramp came out of the woodwork
and was treated like royalty-so was Kavanaugh's.
Suddenly the little donkeys turned into lathered up thoroughbreds. 
Racing up and down the d.c track 
neighing... "always believe a woman...me to"

Clinton and Biden's battered harem came forward...
and were treated like lying whores. 
Nothing but lonely chirps from the democrickets…

believe a woman …. me to but only if its colored blue...

chirp......chirp...……………..chirp...

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