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Classics

J.R.R. Tolkien
Lewis Carroll
Abraham Lincoln
Mary Oliver
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Members

Melancholy of Innocence
Planet Earth    Philo-poetic fable of love. Its our journey into self-discovery about true meaning of love. Poems of LOVE for Z Facebook: melancholy.innocence Twitter: melanofinnocent Instagram: melanofinnocent
David P Carroll
M/Ireland    David P Carroll Poems https://dcarroll304.wixsite.com/mysite All Poetry is copyrighted to David P Carroll under a Dublin and European Union court of law. Was on TV …
Colm
I wrote 2301 verses here. Moved to my own website since then. Adios!

Poems

Corey Kuropas Oct 2014
Oh, Good ol' Ed was a very strange fellow
Good ol' Ed was a quiet one
Good ol' Ed laughed to himself
Good ol' Ed was someone nobody could understand

Oh, Good ol' Ed loved women
Good ol' Ed loved his women dead
Good ol' Ed love their skin
Good ol' Ed loved to wear their skin

Oh, Good ol' Ed had many prized possessions
Good ol' Ed had a lamp shade made out of a face
Good ol' Ed had bowls made out of skulls
Good ol' Ed had a heart in a sauce pan

Oh, Good ol' Ed wasn't so good after all
Good ol' Ed had his share of issues
Good ol' Ed loved too much to play with dead things
Good ol' Ed wasn't so good after all
This is a piece based off of killer, cannibal and all around ******, Ed Gein. Ed Gein was the inspiration for such Hollywood monsters such as Leatherface (Texas Chainsaw Massacre), Buffalo Bill (Silence of the Lambs) and Norman Bates (******). I know this one is a bit morbid, but it was one that came to me.
Nomad  May 2014
That Ol' Man
Nomad May 2014
Up that hill,
is an old man,
and that cranky old man,
lives there still.

Lord knows, he's as old as dust,
but his ticker's still tickin,
thank God it don't rust.

Well that ol' man,
was my ol' man,
as old a man can be.
That old man was my old man,
he's my old man to me.

That ol' man,
taught me more than my ol' man could,
but then again, he was never there,
even when he should.
He was gone with the wind,
never to be heard again,
he left ma and me, and the house,
before I ever turned sev-en.

So that ol' man, up on that hill,
treated me better, than any other father will.
Straight off the bat,
he offered me a job,
I worked hard and long,
to earn just a corn on the cob.

But then I came back for more,
hoping for better pay,
but the next thing I knew,
I was fixing his door.

Again I tried,
and with more work
he had already supplied.
Because I was getting paid,
with the knowledge that he readily provide.

He taught me
how to fix up a house,
he taught me how
to bait and trap the pesky little mouse.
Taught me the meanin' of words,
he taught me to not ignore
the small songs of the birds.
That the wind blew this way,
meant for a storm within the day,
that if the sun rose up red,
he taught me something sailors said.

He taught me skills
I that I used around at home,
it kept me out of trouble,
his land big enough to roam.

He was grouchy a lot,
liked to curse and spit too,
but not once did he raise his voice,
and my liking to this man, always grew.

My kid siblings and I
would visit ever chance we got,
it helped us so much,
for a moment, our pains...we forgot.
He tried to keep the grouch on,
every night and day,
but when he saw us kids run up the street,
I saw the grouch in his eyes, all gone.

Sure he didn't like to show it,
his feelings on his sleeve,
but for some strange reason,
I just bet that when he saw us,
all he could be is relieved.

That sweet ol' man,
living up that dusty ol' hill,
gave us hope for our future,
better than any story book father ever will.

He raised us right,
right from the start,
he might've been a Devil's Dog at some point,
lots of bark, but an even better heart.

God Bless that ol' man,
as he lies on his death bed,
I always remember those clear commanding words,
the first words I remember he said.

"Don't Sir me, bullsh!t! I ain't gonna give you a dime's worth o' work! I'm gonna teach ya how to work so you can do it right! *******."

Thanks ol' man, for all the memories,
you promised me that house one day,
I'll turn that dusty hill, to an orchard full of trees!
And I swear to you ol' man,
I'll fix her right back up
make her nice and pretty,
make it as it once was, in its former glory.

For you ol' man,
I'd do anything you if you only ask,
cause you taught me a lotta things,
from livin, lovin, learnin, and all,
and especially 'bout the people, and the people behind the mask.

Thanks Ol' man.
Up on that hill,
the greatest man to live,
and forever
Will.
Jason Cole  Jun 2015
Good Ol' Boy
Jason Cole Jun 2015
He raised me the old-fashioned way
Never spared the rod
Worked daylight to dark
Except for Sundays
Never heard him say
His life was hard
Taught me to drive a stick
To hunt, to fish, to throw a lick
And how to take one

Good times fly by
Years fade away
Yesterday dies
Time cries

Daddy was a good ol' boy
I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys
They're the heart of the South
Them good ol' boys
Well they're about as good as it gets

He gave up all the boyhood dreams
And plans he'd laid  
So that I'd have some
Sometimes he'd speak and gaze
A glimpse of better days
Back on the farm
I can just see him now singin'
"Not Fade Away" and "True Love Ways"
There in the sun

Good times fly by
Years fade away
Yesterday dies
Time cries

Daddy was a good ol' boy
I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys
They're the heart of the South
Them good ol' boys
Well they're about as good as it gets

I carry his picture in my wallet
Together with his boyhood dreams
The picture is of him at 12 years old
My wallet's bustin' out at the seams

Time cries out for them good ol' boys
I'm talkin' about them good ol' boys
They're the heart of the South
Them good ol' boys
My Daddy was as good as it gets

Time cries out
For the heart of the South

Time cries out
For the heart of the South

Time cries out...
Time cries out...
Time cries out...

© Jason Cole
A song that I wrote about my Daddy. He died in 2010. Country-folk style.