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Best Poems Written by Greg Jenkins

Below are the all-time best Greg Jenkins poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Third Class To the Moon

ps. is it at The End that giants have no fear of shrinking,
     do giants mostly sit and rest on their giant chairs,
     then hunt like a dancing gypsy elephant.

 Governments promoting good paying jobs, (not Calif.,Texas, etc.)
boosts the economy,
governments promoting low paying volunteer jobs,
attacks a developed economy,
add to that,
your smelly, filthy big feet,
and you end up with a less amount of small town hospitals open,
due to big foot infestations,
quit destroying our hospitals,
quit attacking our economy with your big foot army,
wait a minute,
where did our infrastructure go,
oh I see,
when you say infrastructure spending,
you mean big city infrastructure spending,
big foot infrastructure,
from the big foot bank,
well then,
start loading " The Threes " on the back of the truck,
like a Mexican taxi,
then take them to the big city for " treatment ",
and don't forget the attitude adjustment,
you don't want to have to do any informative talking,
what kind of maniac sets the stage on new worlds.

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We'Ve Got Issues Too, a Masked Rant

Why do you act like you own me,
be careful,
confidence is an unequal attitude you know,
it can turn you into a violent creature,
questioning not authority, nor yourself,
yet confronting everyone,
with confident paranoid ranting,
star spangled banter,
rocking the boat at any cost,
adding science fiction to fact,
then subtracting desperate tries to turn cog insecurity,
into a star mask.

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By the Time We Get To Phoenix

As life gets easier,
and survival becomes less urgent,
AI and his muscle (female machines) are taking over,
the sexbot revolution has begun,
no not starring Harrison Ford,
people will bring better values,
no not like the Jedi,
disrupting the kaos of short cut dictators,
take a little more off the top please,
and disrupting out dated laws,
like those found by the dead pool,
beginning, by trodging, through social graces,
then softly landing on paved social values,
I guess what I am trying to say is,
if dead people had values, 
you would be the best buy.

                            Poor Little 
                            Fish Devils

Only blondes can wear brown eye makeup,
the rest of you look like you died last week,
black is out,
there's no sense in sometimes truthy nazis, wearing rebellious makeup,
blue is a bit clownish,
and purple is too religious for women to like,
what idiot drained the swamp of color,
I see the last trick you have left in your bag,
to walk around color blind and naked at the end of the world.

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Fair and Sunny With Bounce

Benefits and bonuses should be eliminated
as a less invasive cap,
both have a design that hides
up to fifty percent more than fair market value,
the sun is so bright,
oh say can you see,
shadows it casts out of sight,
oh say can you see,
by the dawns early light,
the government would supply extended benefits,
the rest would be paid by the recipient,
not by insurance subsidised by all the people,
bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce.

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Shrinkage Comeing, Here There and Everywhere

Merging into the future with driverless cars,
the empty cab will feel like you own it,
or go ahead and send your private car home after you get to work,
two car families will evolve into a one car clan,
only about half of the cars will be needed,
that means less roads built or paved,
and don't forget the insurance jobs, your favorite,
the responsible driver will be the car company and will pay the insurance,
cargo will deliver itself,
and so the over reaching for growth in the economy,
may not be such a bad idea these days.

                                       Santa was right,
                                       all the bad ones get coal.

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The Houston Melt Down

Now that fat has been vindicated as a good guy,
and sugar is the devil,
the theory of sugar scratching your blood vessels,
before turning into fat,
may be giving you a stroke,
potatoes, white bread and rice,
are good to a certain point,
the delicious and protein satisfying point,
your carb tolerance level,
depends on how much protein you eat,
protein cures, helps to burn carbs,
not the other way around,
here is some easy three food for the flood zone survivors,
cut an onion bun into two equal halves,
place a slice of shaved ham on each half,
as well as two slices of a mild dry salami,
then melt some cheese on broil in a toaster oven,
until it spills down the sides of the bun halves,
if you have a salad with that, use two half dressings,
one creamy, one vinegary,
and a coffee with three cream and one sugar for desert.

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Trump Change

Social Graces;
  How can you do a bilateral deal with Russia,
if we let them into the G6,
times up for con trails like you,
someone has to go,
and you are already atmosphere,
we have to make room for fresh air,
besides there's a dead streak forming in you,
in the way you chill the public air,
with truth syrome  and pirate jimmies,
the hollow moon is luminati.  

Social Values;
 The Canadian Dollar seems strong,
times up for a three percent weakling like you,
you're even losing ground to Big Foot,
there isn't even enough volatility for shorts to milk the system,
the fed is getting up close and personal,
"value" stocks won't float in two percent plus growth,
and little money will be spent on low "value" items like coal,
military spending brought down the Soviets,
and it will bring down a three percent communist like you.

Details | Greg Jenkins Poem

Winters' Hard Times

Who likes rich people, not many,
the middle class are rich and ignore that fact,
even though the ladies whole bit is about being likable,
maybe I'm the last one who should say what normal is,
since you spend so much time judging my cover,
but I think you know who should be impeached for casting evil spells,
weather it's batmans' black market laws,
big foot economics or witchcraft lies,
there's no easy way to see through walls,
when cold deals populate the village,
if she could, women would wear white every time,
there's no loose laws in a public woman,
black market law needs no lawyers,
that's why there's a crackdown in every con,
she prefers to make strong fast cold deals behind closed doors,
jfk was a Nazis,
that's why he asked not, what his country could do for him,
the matter disappears,
only a ghost remains,
like when she copies the master key then splits up the take afterward,
she prefers a magicians cape around her waist,
when she spindrifts in the club,
some of her prisoners find a way to escape,
her mad grey alien slow blink of a moon wont even spin,
giants spindrift in black hole clubs,
thrusting big ones into her curvatures,
so much gravity disappears that lights blink from her black hole,
atoms can't be seen,
they spin while lights blink from her black hole,
stars blink to brag about their missing gravity,
other distant cold deals include cheeseburgers, pirate jimmies 
and blinking spaceships,
but lets go back to the beginning where there was light,
the sun explodes in a big bang death then comes back to life,
heavy elements like gold cool first,
being so close to the suns giant cold deal,
further out near the gas giants is found more refined elements,
and in way out space is found an array of one celled creatures,
bacteria, fungi and manna sticking to a belt of leftover bits,
little bits that save the day when galaxies collide,
microscopic dust is also created, for what,
the dust disappears in the instant it is created,
only a river remains,
raining down on blue worlds,
filling in the dangerous places,
where time slows just enough for the devil to catch you,
in the valley of death, where eve was born,
she's a valley girl with cold deals,
she's such a winters' day.

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Only In Defeat Can a Giant Bee Fair

So go ahead take it,
take my number one recipe as a trophy,
if I were you I would name it the Irish McCain Dip,
all the Irish ever eat are potato chips;
one pound of whipped Philadelphia Crème Cheese,
one pound of sour crème,
one pouch of Knorr Onion Soup Mix,
one heaping tablespoon or so of dry onion flakes,
one cup of milk,
before you chill it for one hour or so,
stir until one with bits,
the lights that turn to stone,
this dairy delight is easy on the salt,
suitable for royal indulgance.

Details | Greg Jenkins Poem

A Repugnant Christmas

Twas the week before Christmas,
and all through the house,
not a value was stirring,
not even a mouse,
loot socks were hung by the coalfire with care,
in hopes that saint nick soon will be fair,
the traitor bird mocked at the fair weather lie,
while the mouse told the story of green apple pie,
on dancer not prancer screamed the old nasty pinch,
who is a class, a class with no flinch,
one that is owned, that you put in your cinch,
I'll place a crumb here,
then I'll take you all there,
hey dear, do you have a few bills at your near,
for my go along luck, for my last can of beer,
because as you know,
my mouse traps are deer,
and I am the one who scares it all near,
if I give it to who,
they'll just want to cheer.