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Best Poems Written by David Goodwin

Below are the all-time best David Goodwin poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | David Goodwin Poem

The Audacity of Love

lt can greet you as an equal
compliment you like a friend,

can produce a new beginning
or, assault you with an end.

lt can trick you into thinking
that what you believe in now, is true;

then, make you feel like an idiot
as lonliness swallows you.

Life wouldn't be much without it
t'wouldn't even be grace from above;

we all experience it in many forms
that's the audacity of love.

It can also bring you comfort
and can ease your worried mind,

soothe you when you're hurting
and teach you to be color blind;


soften even the hardest of hearts
and give the spirit of a dove,

kill hatred with a knowing glance
that's the audacity of love.

Details | David Goodwin Poem

Bob, the Forgotten Valentine and Greedy Double Dater

My friends, this saga slowly unfurls
 a love story that went quickly awry,
 seems greedy Bob dated a pair of girls
 when with one, to the other he’d lie.
 
The homlier girl’s name was Edith
 who, nonetheless Bob was fond of,
 but, greedy Bob wanted to live out the “myth”
 and with sisters, he was sure to find love !
 
He began slyly asking about sister Kate
 for her beauty was equalled by few,
 she was young, and he believed her well worth the wait
 she had enough sex appeal for two !
 
Bob’s antics had him severely troubled
 because, he covered his tracks day and night,
 his love-making prowess had quickly doubled
 so his lovelife was going just right !
 
Well, finally Bob’s saga ended in terror
 because the girls both found out what he’d done,
 Bob had mixed their names up, in a passionate error
 and what transpired next, was not very fun !
 
One of the sisters had taken Bob’s life
 because he’d proven he couldn’t be “true”,
 and the lesson he learned, at the end of that knife
 taught, “you can’t have your Kate…..and Edith, too !

Details | David Goodwin Poem

That Crazy Old Doctor

There've been times in my life
 where I've just had to say,
 "I must, give it all up,
 for, it's that kind of day"!
 
I must, really say this
 I really, just must;
 if I didn't say it,
 then, it wouldn't be, "just".
 
There's this crazy, old man
 we'll just call him, "Doc";
 who fills up blank pages
 with, "poetical talk".
 
He's scribbled, and scrabbled
 'til way, past bed-time,
 trying to finish each poem
 and, complete every rhyme.
 
If he hadn't done this
 he'd surely gone, "mad",
 his nonsensical nature
 was, all that he had!
 
No hidden agenda
 when first, he wrote down,
 each poem of nonsense
 to erase a childs' frown.
 
And, Doc always did this
 manipulate, "clues"...
 ..so that , all of his poems
 were merely geared, to amuse.
 
He loved to let nonsense
 be the order of the day,
 and, with every poem
 we all smiled, the same way.
 
His only intention
 was to set our minds, "free",
 his style, just did it
 so, poetically.
 
With his own tongue, in cheek
we knew we'd been had,
and his poems rhymed perfectly
proving he was no, "fad"!




The volumes of topics
 that Doc's written of,
 included all that could be
 written.....below, and above.
 
He's written of magic,
 puzzles, and games...
 ..with, strange little creatures,
 with, strange little, "names".
 
The, crazier his story,
 the saner he'd feel,
 and, the more that we heard
 convinced us they were, "real"!
 
His poems, were genius
 as he weaved us, a tale;
 with, nonsensical rhymes
 that did so, without..."fail".
 
"Old Doc", has quit writing
 he's up in heaven,
 this year, his birthday'd ...
 make him, a hundred, and seven!
 
He's given advice,
 taught what we must do,
 he said, "Be who you are...
 ..no-one's youer, than....you!"
 
He's maybe still writing
 in, heaven....you see,
 that'd be just like him
 as, that's who he must, be!
 
That, silly old doctor...
 ..as silly, as a goose;
 we all loved his poems,
 for, we loved Dr. Seuss!

Details | David Goodwin Poem

Thefortune Cookie

I finished my Chinese meal all at once
 and stared at the cookies like some sort of dunce.
 
When I read my fortune I did not understand
 from the small piece of paper, I held in my hand.
 
It said that my next days wouldn't be "fun",
 and that my plight was to live like Attila the Hun;
 
I wasn't real comfortable about eating alone
 but, I paid off the bill and went straight to the phone.
 
I placed my phone call from the diner's phone booth
 in search for my date for lunch, my friend Ruth.
 
I asked for my tea when I stood to get up
 but, I was so worried I couldn't finish my cup!
 
I ran out the door and I searched through the lot,
 but, Ruth and her car, at the diner...were not!
 
It then started raining, and I got a good douse,
 then it quickly dawned on me to check out her house.


I arrived in an hour at her tiny white lodge,
 and saw that her car wasn't in her garage!
 
I spied in each window, but all I could see
 was an empty abode, 'cept her cat...Mr. "T".
 
I then got quite worried with a pang of fright,
 but, I went home anyway and called it a night.
 
The next day was worse, I was at my wits end!
 I just couldn't believe I had lost my good friend!
 
Ruth was the type to confirm a lunch date,
 she would not have left me hanging like this, at any rate.
 
I searched the grocery store, and mall like some jerk;
 'til I thought I had better go and check out her work.
 
I still was puzzled about my being a barbarian
 as I strolled to where Ruth worked as a librarian.
 
Well, they hadn't seen her...she had three days off,
 something about her having a bad cough.
 
So, day two was futile...I had all but given up;
 I chased her with whiskey...cup after cup.
 
Day three went much better, it put Ruth within reach
 I remembered when ill, Ruth would visit the beach.
 
I drove for three hours and arrived at the sand;
 to find Ruth still coughing, but so nicely tanned.
 
With my hands in my pockets, I felt great and so free;
 I'd finally found Ruth...and still had her fortune cookie!
 
I remembered I'd taken one on the day of our date,
 so I gave it to her...it wasn't too late.
 
I knelt down beside her, and felt the warmth of the sun;
 and recalled my strange fortune about Attila the Hun;
 
out of my pocket, I held the slip in my hand;
 I re-read it again...and I began to understand;
 
well, I couldn't stop laughing whilst down on one knee,
 for I had gone three whole days...living quite, "Ruthlessly"!

Details | David Goodwin Poem

The Journey of Your Song

It's a lonely, truthful journey
 finding your voice, with which to sing,
 even worse, then there's the journey for your song;
 
but, we all sing from our essence
 to share the truths each heart may bring,
 so sing out loud, sing out clear, and sing out strong.
 
After a while, you may meet someone
 who may fancy the same "life tune",
 but, their performance of the song does not ring, true:
 
I can't emphasize enough, my friend
 that we all live the songs we choose,
 and that the melodies, and lyrics always falls on you.
 
That's why I sing the Blues these days,
 and feel as lonely as the moon,
 there's a certain honesty in reminding folks of pain;
 
and how next time it might be avoided
 by adding "blue-notes" to the tune,
 to draw attention, so it can't happen to us again.
 
Now, the other side of those "blue-notes
 is a more joyful, hopeful tune,
 to remind us that our hearts aren't always wrong;
 
it's merely "par for the course",
 to sing of both sweet love, and pain...
 ..but, that's the blues.....and that's the, Journey of Your Song.

Details | David Goodwin Poem

The Pawn Folly

Sand-like cliffs reaching up as towers
 thier sole purpose, but to measure hours,
 feels a though I'm stuck in a cage
 resulting in more visitations with rage;
 
There's not enough drink to fade it away
 and too much left to quit it, today.
 A good woman could help me put it down
 but, there doesn't seem to be any of them, around.
 
Gravity's pulling just as hard as she'd might
 and, the extra pull, has brought upon us, the night;
 and, just as noon can coerce the dew to fade
 night got real lucky, bartering for trade;
 
for day's sky and night's sky yearned for folly to be
 each dimension's signature for eternity;
 pawn folly was divided into both these domains
 giving birth to split issues, and more difficult planes.
 
But, on l keep trudging, as on l must go
 who'll win in the long-run, believe l'll never know,
 l've donned my best hat and, my only warm cloak
 but it's hard to realize that I'm the butt of the joke!

Details | David Goodwin Poem

No Longer Musing

The other day I called it in
 
to my office, from the hall;
 
it wasn't that my muse was, "off"
 
it wasn't doing anything, for any reason, at all !
 
At the onset I thought it was but, a tad tired;
 
and l thought l'd give it another day;
 
then l began realizing a listlessness
 
that was contagious, much to my dismay.
 
I spoke with the man at the pharmacy
 
who assured me that there was a cure;
 
and that, if it were not soon administered
 
there'd be consequences no poet could endure !
 
So frightened was l, after hearing of this
 
l sprang to action, right after my nap;
 
l visited a place where the critics loved me,
 
'twas my fans thought l was loaded with, crap !
 
l awoke and went straight to my office
 
to have said "talk", with my weak little muse;
 
l instead, began writing about "nothing",
 
instead of holding on too tight, to an excuse

Details | David Goodwin Poem

On a Winternoon

In a colorful shade of brightness
on a winternoon;
with the shadows hardly bothering, at all;

the air's got a bite
as day ready's for night,

causing mercury levels to fall.

~

There's a chilliness inside the brightness
on a winternoon;
continuing to persist to convince;

on a journey Sol goes
causing shadows to grow,

one can watch Sol retreat, if one squints!

~

The colors all fade from the brightness
on a winternoon;
the day trades all it's clouds for night's bright stars;

with family member, or friend
when the day finally ends

we'll animate our winowed restaurants, and bars.

~

So we slide through the squint in the brightness
on a winternoon;
and vividly night's canopy gets raised;

time, moseys on
quietly yielding the next dawn,

then, we'll all start all over, unfazed.

Details | David Goodwin Poem

More Doors

I must sit down and turn around
 be mindful as I sit,
 
the reason you can't see my face
 is it's covered with your spit!
 
This gravy-train is quite insane
 I chew my food real good;
 
I have a way of saying things
 but I'm so, misunderstood!
 
It's alright, I'll be polite
 and say what's on my mind;
 
if negatives breed negatives
 I'll be the other kind.
 
With borrowed soap, I can't lose hope
 and air my cares outside;
 
if the time's not right and at this height,
 it'll be impossible to hide!
 
Tweedle-dee, and tweedle-dum
 no worries in the rain;
 
all my good and bad times
 end up going down the drain.
 
Seems to me my final plea
 won't say as much as yours;
 
my journey's almost over
 while you've still a lot more doors !

Details | David Goodwin Poem

The Hobo

Time's moments takes it's toll
 adding gravitational pull
 
To a body, so weighed down
 His chin can touch the ground
 
With pain visible on his face
 He lives sans his wit, and grace
 
A life of selfishness, his crime
 now sentenced, to a duel with time
 
And time's blatent tenacity
 plus it's control over eternity
 
Reminds the man how much it's cost
 for him to realize what he's lost
 
So he wears time's final wrath
 As he walks life's thorny path
 
All alone without a friend
 He walks the path to journey's end