Throwed Poems | Examples

Dark Roads

Ahead, lies a dark road,
One where a curse has been bestowed,
Where the darkest clouds have been forbode,
Where everything's been throwed.

A road meant to pave
for a brighter tomorrow,
But everything you gave
Repaid with sorrow.
Always the sun sets low,
Casting a shadow
Over the woeful road.

You've been here before;
You hear the pity roar.
You ask yourself,
Should I be more?
But what's it all for?

You look to see
All roads are guaranteed
To always sink deeper than the sea.
What am I to be?

He Was a True Master, a True Master of His Destiny

He Was A True Master, A True Master Of His Destiny

I am a sailor, a wanderer, a sailor born to be.
I have sailed mighty oceans, all the seven wide seas.

There is not a soil tiller, not that kind within all of me
I fought the ocean and the gigantic storms throwed at me
I never backed up a single inch, because I am born free
When the dirty pirates raided, I was the first one to fight
I tell you the truth, I killed a dozen that tragic night.

I am a sailor, a wanderer, a sailor born to be.
I have sailed mighty oceans, all the seven wide seas.

I am a raging fighter, bravery flowing in my veins
A restless tiger in this gallant heart, I am without shame
Whether it is pirate swords or hot muskets blazing away
I fight without reserve, as such is just my own courageous way
A penny for your thoughts, a single dollar for your last meal.

I am a sailor, a wanderer, a sailor born to be.
I have sailed mighty oceans, all the seven wide seas.

Robert J. Lindley, March 15th, 1979

Note.( A man without honor, is not a man at all.)
A quote from my father, I was 15 years old back when he said it.

In Loving Memory

I strolled through the local cemetery the other day
And here are some epitaphs I observed along the way:

Cletus O'Toole lies herein
Too much boozing done him in!

Here lies a gambler molding in his crypt
Odds are he was shot by a chump he had gyped!

His spouse spotted him leaving a house of ill repute
In short order she done him in during a heated dispute!

Clyde raced down the mountain and failed to swerve
Meeting his doom on an S-shaped curve!

His plea to the judge was ruled to be moot
He was sentenced to hang for fencing some loot!

Buckaroo Bob was throwed from his horse
And was buried with his boots on as a matter of course!

The town ruffian was our late friend Keith
He met his match and was interred sans his teeth!

Pilot Pete's final radio message was, "Oh! Shoot!"
Seems he forgot to don his parachute!

Farrier Fred was a premier cobbler as a general rule
Alas, he was kicked in the head by an unruly mule!

Butcher Bruce was expert at wielding his knife
But in a fatal spat he was out-wielded by his wife!

POTD 24 June 2021

Bull-Ridin' Slim

There wuz once an ol' cowpuncher named Slim

    Who attempted bull-ridin' on a whim

        Throwed in a heap of manure

           'Twuz more'n he could endure

                Thus ceased a bull-ridin' future fer him

I Saw You

Before I looked I stared at you, 
Your were horrible not adorable,
You brought trauma to my eyes as you were deplorable,
Behaving like a dread, 
Saw the words you wrote on the paper,
I throwed it in a bin, 
Don't ask, why?
you're the waste garbage in the truck, 
face wack, 
Lips crack, 
Hair a mess,
Like you had a smack, 
Go find some crutch,
Visit fishes for your smell, 
Even viruses are still non-living in your living cells,
That what I saw...

The Letter Parody Song

THE LETTER PARODY
(MISTER MUELLER WROTE ME A LETTER)
(To the tune of THE LETTER by the Boxtops 1968)

Gimme a ticket on an aeroplane.
Ain't got time to take a freight train.
Ima leavin home! Never go back home!
Mister Mueller he wrote me a letter.

Well he wrote me a letter 
but I throwed it in the trash
and I shredded trash today.
Tell him maybe that I died 
or I been Shanghaid
or I'm lost in Mandalay.

Mister Mueller he wrote me a letter.
Gimme a ticket on an aeroplane.
Find me a boat or a wagon train.
Mister Mueller he wrote me a letter.

(be the first to record this Parody I hope you make a million dollars. LOL)

© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Staying On My Toes

8/30/17


In some regards a pro
Don't
You know
This path I chose
Staying on my toes
Taking care of woes
Being composed
Because life comes and goes
Not sticking out my nose
I hit highs and lows
Really got throwed
Sometimes I would doze
Near and far from a stove
Still had to get it before the door closed
What up to all the crows?
I see you in different places across the globe


Merely
Trying to improve daily and yearly
Sincerely
To the ones I love dearly
Clearly
Everyone has their own theory
No idea if any one really hears me
Or is taking me seriously
Paid the price severely
Then reacted fiercely
Even when I was weary
And dreary
When it all got eerie
Nearly, lost it all, but didn't, never once needed Siri

The First Ghost I Met

I rode by an old homestead’s ruins
Saw a ghost standin’ there
I said, “Well, howdy, oldtimer,
You be goin’ somewhere?”

He didn’t look friendly, but then,
That’s the first ghost I’d met.
Then he pointed at the rubble
And both his cheeks got wet

He spoke in a raspy voice
Like nothin’ worked real well.
Talked of hard times and good times, too,
And tales that he could tell.

He got throwed from a wild mustang –
Broke his neck in ’50.
His widow wed a trav’lin man –
Nothin’ if not shifty.

So he spent thirty years near ‘bouts
Hauntin’ his own home.
Been so busy spreadin’ ghostly
Ain’t had much time to roam.

I asked him why he’s standin’ ‘round
When all his folks was gone –
He said he didn’t rightly know,
He just kept hangin’ on.

I said, “Well, podnah, climb on up –
You don’t weigh much I ‘spect.”
He said, “No sir, don’t think I’ll ride –
Last time I broke my neck.”

So if you see a ghost ‘round here,
One lookin’ kinda gaunt,
Be nice to that wore out cowboy –
He’s lost his place to haunt

A Jealous Filly

A Jealous Filly


He walked up to the gate
Pa said you're kinda late
The last time I seen you you was ridin'

He said well I got throwed
I guess I shoulda knowed
That filly's got feelin's she's been hidin'

I rode down in the draw
To see a colt I saw
Last week when I was checkin' out the stock

She's a chestnut beauty
More than just a cutie
She's hangin' out beneath that painted rock

I looked into her eye
An' I said my oh my
That's when my filly balked an' came unstuck

First it was a snuffle
That became a shuffle
Then a roarin', snortin', genuine buck

I lasted about three
'Til she was shed of me
An' I was gettin' ready for a hike

Well let me tell you son -
You get girls more than one -
It's bound to end in somethin' you don't like

Pa began to chuckle 
Jiggled his belt buckle
Said you have learned a lesson for your files.

I said I guess that's true
I hope to learn a few
That don't require a walk of sev'ral miles


4/25/2016

Cowpunchers

Been throwed
Legs bowed

Prefers
Brass spurs

Bunk house
Sans spouse

Wears chaps
Perhaps

Wears jeans
Eats beans

Brands steers
Likes beers

Hates boss
Loves hoss

Straddles
Saddles

Wears boots
Hates suits

Spits juice
Profuse

Payday 
Small pay

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved

At

at war,
-i could still hear our tired feet passed this plain,
wind chills our bodies soaked at early dawn rain-
i sat at the side, eager to absorbed, all what I heared from my old man's tale
cold breeze breath and made us shivered,
as if a ghost from the past, sat in
under the acacia, as if it was ready to hear the pain-
"we are at war, nineteen eighty nine, and in the late seventies
most of the boys lost their lives, including mine,
that, i was long gone with them,
 
I don't understand.


at peace,
-inside a small house, we call' a war room'
my old man were dead few years back,
we talked about politics, it could be a new walk
can you walk with us? they asked, eagerly
though I'm skeptic, i nod-
we went out on the streets, after few hours dancing 
in the air, sat on the side, placards lay on my tired hand
throwed a long glimpse toward the sky
i think rain come tonight,
one of us, positively uttered.
we look at him, and all eyes raised up towards the gathering
of the moonson clouds,

still i don't understand.

Just Outside of Pecos

JUST OUTSIDE OF PECOS
Down on my luck again--it's nuthin' new.
Just outside of Pecos, with a dream that's overdue.
But I got my entry fee, here in my boots, 
and I don't intend to lose.

All broken up again, it's nuthin' new.
Just outside of Pecos, with a busted rib, or two.
But I got my entry fee, here in my boots,
and I don't intend to lose.

There's a bronc, I know, waitin' here in Pecos,
wantin' to throw, every cowboy in Pecos,
I been throwed a time, or two.
It's the rodeo, takin' me to Pecos,
but you never know, this might be my last Pecos,
since I met you.

Wonder if that bronc ever could be rode?
Just outside of Pecos, and my feet are gettin' cold.
But I got my entry fee, here in my boots, and I don't intend to lose.
I'll ride that bronc, I know,
I'll ride that bronc, I know.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

Death: V

Contemporary words hath I evaded,
Sweared to swear thine,
Fo' the respect o' thee faded,
Throwed me, e'ry words o' fame thou lied,
Only for t'se blasphemious plight,
Curious cherishity o' mine birth hath taken,
Quiet blade o' thy palm, hath rest broken,
Unrelated bloods' related as blood,
Mates, masked t'en thy hath brought me to cut,
Tranquil drops o' life, heat kisseth, fast flow'th,
Taste o' t'se machetes, my body tast'th,
Final screams 'n my mouth, silence stuff'th,
Drops o' my own blood t'en blind'th me,
Lips o' thy blade seal my n'ck with t'at kiss,
Final beats o' my heart 'n thy hand pumpeth,
Mysterious reas'n attract'th my death.

Highbrow Singing Ain'T Fer Me

Highbrow Singing Ain’t Fer Me

By Elton Camp  

I heerd some guy’s the best singer who’s ever been
So I went t’ the theater and paid a bunch t’ git  in 
This ugly man come on the stage dressed t’ kill
The audience clapped so it must’ve gave ‘em a thrill

He started to breathe way down deep in his chest
For sure, he wasn’t using his ribs like all of the rest
Then he throwed his head back and belted hit out
But not in a normal voice there weren’t no doubt

But it weren’t no song that I ever heered before
And I shore don’t care if I never heer hit no more 
A whole bunch more he sung and they’d clap
I didn’t and wished he would just shut his yap

When he finished they stood and clapped fer more
But I slipped out and made a quick dart fer th’ door
Seemed t’ me he wuz a whole bunch over rated
Next singing I want t’ heer is when Dolly is slated

Rhyming Trey

Step back be rational. 
Sit back roll this hash and blow.
A/C cold in the lac sittin low.
Niggas gone hate cuz the game so throwed
Chromed out glock is the steel I hold 
Dead right now but present with the Lord.
Life cut short like a ginsu sword.
Speak soft nigga I'm not no broad.
Quick wit the hands I put'em in his place
Thinking to myself I'm not catching no case.
Tears drop down when he gave up the ghost
Blood on my hands and weed on my clothes
Another nigga die now white men boast.
Messed up game but a playa still chose.
Rocks on my wrist and on my ear lobes.
Hit the next right on the creep, down low
Red, blue lights on the same back road
Same ole story as the jail bars close

• Short Throwed Poems
• Famous Throwed Poems
• Best Throwed Poems
• Read Throwed Poems
• Long Throwed Poems
• Throwed Quotes