Winchester Poems | Examples

I am too this I am too Fat

I’m too this, I’m too me, I'm too that,
Too happy, too sad, too thin, too fat
Why do you want to be with me, you louse?
I am as irrational and deranged as the Winchester House.

Your criticisms have been a long time coming.
I can sing them in my sleep, they are always humming
I am too weird, I am too mild.
You think you are the adult and I’m your child?

I have a word or two for you.
But pouting is awful to watch, so I’ll be blue.
Keeping my thoughts to myself, to keep safe.
You are no prize or prince, old Rafe.

You will be lucky yourself to find a normal gal.
You are not a friend, a good lover, a confidant or a pal.
I will keep these thoughts to myself, of course.
But your brain is mean, and your skin is coarse.

You have a smell I cannot put my mind upon.
I think I’ll go off with your friend Big John.
We will not think of you at all, old Rafe.
Being with you has been a big disgrace.

hern hic'up

.

      hern daddy'z
       Winchester

         giddy'up

A Cherished Melody Brought Back To Life In An Acapella Form

Jesse Winchester was a not so known famous Singer and songwriter who wrote many hits.  His songs were recorded by Don Henley, Jimmy Buffet, The Everly brothers, and other famous singers. One of his famous songs that did not get the recognition it deserved was Sham A Ling Dong Ding. Elvis Costello did a stage concert on Youtube and Jesse Winchester sang this song. People were left in tears. Well soon a quartet did the song and its harmonies brings you to a heartfelt place as the songs words play. First go to YouTube and listened to Jesse Winchester song Sham A Ling Dong Ding performed on stage with Elvis Costello. After hearing and taking in the meaning and harmony of the song then go to YouTube and type in Sham A Ling Dong Ding Doubledouble qurartet and listen to their rendition of this song in Acapella. Truly amazing... Jesse Winchester's music will live on.



 Also here are a few hits from Jesse. I wave bye bye, Little glass of wine, Tennessee Waltz, and many others.


Inspired by Jack Ellison Poem Acapella Groups.

Michael Tor

The Sleuth of Soup Creek

With a fresh cup of coffee, I stepped outside to have a peek.
It was another peaceful morning, in the valley around Soup Creek.
I caught the glint of a Winchester, a model ninety-four.
It was across the lap of Jenna, just outside the saloon door.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jan sneaking to the loo.
I could hear her spurs were jingling as she went to take a poo.
In the saloon I heard some laughter, it was Milt just having fun.
At a table dealing stud, a gamblers game is never done.

At the other end of the street, there stood Tania with watchful eyes.
With a pistol on each hip, she was ready for any surprise.
Down by the livery stable was a Texas ranger by the name of Dave.
He was looking for our mayor, who he thought was digging a grave.

There was a rumor of riders coming, and the Creek might be in a bind.
He searched both high and low, but sir Tom he could not find.
Ten miles south of town, with graves dug all around.
Tom had stopped these riders and saved our hallowed ground.

Start Sleuthing Poetry Contest
Sponsor:  Natasha L Scragg
8/21/22

Annie Oakley and Me

I think Annie is going to shoot me.
She smiles and winks;
this is what she does best,
the little lady is deadly accurate
and pert with it.

She takes aim. "Right ear." She says.
Bang! Her Winchester
explodes my ear.

She laughs girlishly
tells me to wake up,
but the dream is way too interesting
and I stand there dripping blood
until she magically replaces it.

We go to a lake,
recline on a mattress of meadow daisies
while she relates her life story,
I already know it
and just want to make out.

Annie sings a lullaby
a crow taught her in the Ohio wilderness.

"Would you rather have a 1960's
Coup Deville Cadillac
or me?" She says suddenly.
My hesitant silence speaks volumes.
I ask: What color?

The feisty gal
kisses me with her Kathrin Hepburn lips,
then shoots my ear off again.

Goodbye

Till this day, I think of you.
Endearing thoughts my heart once knew.

 Caught by surprise, you said, " Good Bye."
Leaving me here, to wonder why.

 The heartfelt letters, I sent each night.
Were desperate words, to make things right.

 Your love you said, had somehow died.
To hear these words, so have I.


 
                "I wave Bye Bye"


Michael Tor
Inspired by Jesse Winchester's song I Wave Bye Bye, so heartfelt and
beautiful to listen to. Touching your inner emotions for a lost love...
Please go to Youtube and play Jesse Winchester song, I Wave Bye Bye.
Also on YouTube Bob Dylan's song To Make You Feel My Love sung by Garth Brooks. These two songs in my humble opinion are the best two songs ever
written and sung. PS Adele has recently sung To Make You Feel My Love...

Three Bawdy Limericks I Wish I Hadn'T Written

A progressive mother across the street
Taught her twelve-year-old how to beat his meat
Gave him a graphic lesson,
She was proudly confessin’
In ways, I think, this mother hard to beat.


When the time comes get right down to it
Having a good poop is a fine sit
Quite relaxing, in fact,
Once you get the knack
Ten minutes is a jolly good sh*t.


A boy in Winchester rubbed it raw
I think, frankly, that practice takes some gall
As a doctor I grimaced,
This young lad was the dimmest
That day of all the young patients I saw. 

Written May 22, 2022

Just About Gone

I’ll be just about ready when it’s just about time
To do whatever needs to be done. 
With my Winchester loaded and my bay freshly shod, 
I’m riding off to seek the setting sun.

Since it’s just about money and it’s just about greed,
Let’s finish tabulating the cost. 
Got my saddlebags loaded with the things I hold dear, 
Except for those I’ve already lost.

You can have whatever’s reasonable. Just let me keep what’s mine.
A trail can only go so far, and this is the end of the line.

Since it’s just about over, I can just about laugh
To think your word could ever be true. 
When you just about get it, I’ll be just about gone, 
And then you’ll find the joke is on you.

Love,Pain,Passports

Baltimore cashmere fiskars tee-off
Building lines center points Centerville La Prada orange
Normal sesmatics North Carolina persuasions evident in my speech Forward Ultra Plus
Leaning torwards concrete discovers more
Interior Atlantic Cambridge clandestine 
Bermuda temper-pedic Sealey SEALS ?? Evergreen
Miranda rights the west and the sand it’s etched in
The ta ta  the Tatonik plates collide and intercept 
As Life speaks only the devil intercedes
Revelon Remington' Winchester' Springfield 
Browning Ruger Stealth
Alexi Morning Glory Lex Luger says
“Look at these traps set for my feet”
Lackland Jacksonville Fort Beautiful Baby sister says
“Zero-temperatures, Seal friend, catch my drift”
Little tree little bear Honey Brown touchdown 
Land the metal I’m in the end zone now
Dangerfield Dangerzone Red-light special at the k-mart
Alburqurque Highway-6 city of the Purple Hearts 
I-hop Utah sex drugs fast forward money stacked up
Anything you ask for

Mia

The Mia Man was mad. Someone had stolen his pet dog. This was an automatic credit. He would get even. No matter the time line. The stolen dog was handsome and intelligent. His name was Peter. 
Word went out a white and black dog was missing. 'Such a body', was the thief. Everybody knew him. Nobody dared move against him. Only the Mia Man could, should, would. He took his time. It was a big hangover.
Time to banish the enemy to the moon. The Mia Man knocked on 'Such a body's' door. Two riot guns, both Winchester and Remington, got a result. Mia Man pressed both triggers and kneecapped his enemy.
In seconds it was over. 'Such a body' was bundled into the space cadet capsule and the fuse was lit. The Mia Man upended the big steel kitchen table and hid. After a minute the rocket launched. Fizz, boom, whoosh!
'Such a body' was on the way to the moon. The dog didn't matter; he wasn't real. Peter the dog was made in Taiwan and plastic. With a fake woof and growl. Mia Man had just eradicated an enemy. Time for a beer.

The Only Child

A beautiful soul with spreading arms, but tired of a constant embrace
a steep valley, grassed and watered by so much pampering
bordered by two massaging hills and round-the-clock sheltering
then much attention is given to the Winchester to always stay refilled.
Wide is mother’s bossom but becoming a soft blockade
strong are father’s arms, enough to be restrictions
their eyes, stationed in all cardinal points of this young life
to measure every alternating radius and changing circumference.
Grateful to dad and mum, they yet not deserve applause
boredom slowly germinating from the show of too much importance
with a younger one, the dry lands will also be riverine
when the seeds are two, this being will become superordinate
please give this child a sibling and with peace, she’ll reconcile.

Along

Along the back near the corner of my mind
There's a keyhole that I can't quite find. 
What's hiding behind this lock and key?
I'm hoping it might be a past life memory.
Was it when I fought the Kraken to save us?
Or was it when I roamed the sea as an Octopus?
What if its just a knob afixed in my mind for fashion  
Just a doorway like you see at the Winchester Mansion. 
Along the back near the corner of my mind 
There's a doorway that I've yet want to find. 

Advanced topic number 3

Saving the Cathedral 2

With every Bannockburn there comes a Boyne.
The gods grant grain, alleviate our lives,
then send us weevils, whitefly, worms (and wives!)
They raise us up – then knee us in the groin

vaulting. Winchester was built on bog.
This marvel of the medieval mind
was sitting on (they were appalled to find),
nine hundred-year-old spongy, soggy logs. 

And, year on year, it sagged a little more.
As fissures felt their way around the font,
and lancet windows listed to the west,
so flawed at lauds, and worse at terce for sure:

now none at nones was feeling nonchalant.
The church was sinking slowly to its rest.

Saving the Cathedral 1

What counts as old?  Columbus paddling ashore
on Cuba?  Winchester Cathedral knocks
the Genoese out of his sodden socks,
for it was born four centuries before.

The longest nave in Europe.  Slender threads
of Gothic columns spring like strands of frost
and soar, as if to heaven, till they cross
and mesh to form the vault, high overhead.

Cathedrals!  What a glorious invention!
A skeleton as delicate as a wren’s,
with multi-coloured, fragile stained-glass skins,
and all poised like a spring, in graceful tension!

Men made it with a plumb-line and a hod,
and genuine desire to honour God.

Original of Doom of Tom Horn

Original of Doom of Tom Horn

I just found original of it I had 
written back in the 50's. Here it is.

Tom Horn will surely die today
For all his sins now must pay
Bounty hunter born and bred
But pretty soon shall be dead.

There were many rustlers he did kill
Among them freight he would instill
With his new Winchester Ninety Four
Shot them all down by the score.

Most thoughtful and polite was he
All of his victims were sure to be
Lying hands crossed on their breasts
Head gently on a rock laid to rest.

Big Tome went searching for someone
But instead he found the rustler's son
Into his body a bullet soon did send
Poor, young lad's life came to an end.

Posse chased terrible Tom everywhere
His life they never wanted to spare
Caught and dragged him back to town
And main street did march him down.

Calmly was approach to life now doomed
All was quiet and around tension loomed
Tied to his neck a noose was now worn
Quick was the end for big Tom Horn.

James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran

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