"aston" poems
I ain't goin' back to Maggie's farm no more
To thatch that old black barn
Already done it twice
Done that thing most my life
Someone else's turn now for sure
Ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother don't you see
He'll not be using me
Bought his wife an Aston Martin
For turning forty three
He couldn't even bother
To make a cup of tea
It all seems so appealing
When you're young and fit
Thirty five years later
Feel I've done my bit
Been a faithful servant
Couldn't ask for more
Now I'm looking forward
To the final straw
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
A man of no age
See this world be his stage
Subservant his number
This badge be his honour
His country to serve
In sacrificed love
These stories be told
A plot to unfold
A hero so British
This tune we still listen
A fighter of evil
His Q for distinguish
Sweet ladies a plenty
On rocks drinks martini
A drive in an Aston
Gadgets to walther
All baddies behind him
A win every time
As sunsets divine
A lady reclined
The music..........his line
The names Bond
James Bond
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 11:53 PM UTC
Welfare check savings
and Aston Martin dreams.
Mix quadruple entendres in cereal bowl
with tap water and eat for breakfast.
Lend half a knee to the ground
and kiss the blue sky a bitter hallelujah.
Send prayers with naked eyes to the third Christ,
after all, we are supposed to be our ancestors sci-fi.
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 10:35 PM UTC
Like the car,
High social class,
Nowhere for me in the picture,
Distance is all I have to see you.
Maybe someday,
I would come in diamond dresses,
Flying in unicorns,
To take you away with me.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
My eyes are roving, clever and playful
In the tensest moments I don’t lose my cool
From my fingers the bullets fly
I dive deep and jump from the sky.
I do hide behind occasional beard
I want my martinis shaken not stirred
My mantra is only one word ‘win’
The only car I ride is Aston martin.
My name turns my enemies morose
They’re pinned down by my gizmos.
Women just madly fall for me
Clad skimpily in alluring bikini
Chiseled figures slim and tall
I choose the good but go for all.
I am pressed for time so much
I can’t do without my omega watch
Though I’m not stuck in a brand or two
Rolex and Seikos will also do.
I feel instead of lengthening the list
It’s time for me to clear up the mist
A suave smart and fearless guy
I also happen to be a timeless spy.
I play with the villains dangerous games
Love to be called Bond without James
With me the baddies can never get even
You know the world knows me by 007.
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 8:12 AM UTC
Yoga, James Bond & The Bad Guys
Sitting on the floor
Watching James bond overpower foes.
A complicated character with
A subtle ethic, ice-chilled wrath –
Most of all, a yogic path
Of duty and detachment;
Yogic while the villain,
Mega-bombs his own routinely -
Ligaments and muscles blown,
Royal houses overthrown!
And yet we have so much in common.
Villain cool, detached but mean,
Followers his **** machine.
Bond the Lancelot,
Jaw-dropping stunts his lot,
Fencing, boxing, crashing cars;
Fights and scars his calling cards –
And when in need of surgery
He heals quickly.
Evil lurks, Bond never shirks, and still
His life is filled with perks:
Hotel suites, girls en suite,
Dry martinis, Aston Martins (note the plural)
Sure of all
And unequivocal
Bond’s megastar, ideal and idol.
This poet rather fond of Bond,
Both yogis of a different kind:
He the running, driving soldier,
I, the yogi on the floor,
Each connected to a power.
Grinding skills the Bond-dynamic,
Mine the tranquil skill-iambic.
I give in to un-excitement’s
Ordinary daily yoga;
Bond the knight with right to ****
(Nice guy James with license, aimed at
Ordinary evil ogres -
There you see the box of riddles:
Bond the paradox in middle
Fighting off the oh, so evil bad guys!
Yoga, James Bond & The Bad Guys 2.10.2015/revised 8.28.2016
Circling Round Yoga II; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II;
Arlene Corwin
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
Aston Villa Poem.
I love football it's
So beautiful and true
Such a rough game to
Such Passion required
And skill to and
Aston Villa I love
Watching you the
Hometown club
Cheering all the way
From sunny Bray
On a sunny calm day we're
Watching the Villa play
And the Villa are super strong
And fearless and we're
Ready to battle all night long
And its so honourable and
True to cheer for
Aston Villa because
We all love you.
Apr 26, 2022
Apr 26, 2022 at 2:31 PM UTC
Motto: "There's a little girl's voice that sings lullabies in my guest room closet but don't mind her; she died years ago. Here's your blanket"
the night squeezes moon juice into my dreams
and I lemon my way through thick syrupy words
going round and round above, in my head
like a dotto train
ding ding ding!!
(Luna-land here, everyone off!!)
fantasies of the weak
begging like potato chips in a bag to be crunched
at least once
in a commercial with a second hand banner and no pride
trouble was waiting in paradise
like paint in a ***
ready to be splashed over an Aston Martin’s window
how we laughed at this scenario, oh, baby!
how many times
we giggled thinking God is away on business
and this time He is, He must be
and He must have left in charge
Brahms’ lullaby, her frail mind
and someone’s little finger
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:46 AM UTC
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
When pop was a boy
Iz pride and joy
Was just to have wheels wiv a mota
Tricked up didn’t play, not in their hood
Even though you could
End result wouldn’t lift the skin - off a rice pud
Real quick in that day
Only came by the way
Of serious a serious wedge of pay
Aston, Ferrari, you could take to the bank
Hemi, Stang and Vette for the yanks
For most just wall posters and wanks
These days it different, back from the dead
Universal balance has got out of bed
And delivered justice for the poor petrolhead
You can strut your stuff, in your supa caa
But the kid in a Rex or an EVO jam jar
Gonna embarrass you, you fucken rockstar
We quikka N you - its no pop quiz
These days turbos and nitrous is the biz
Nuffink about the money just how big your ***** is
Want to put up your half million Mclaren
Thats just a few tenths quicka, than a subbie wagon
Equipped wiv a teenage ****** called Darren?
We quikka N you - even with your cash
One real aspect in life, where design and dash
Triumphed over money and flash
We quikka N you
And don’t you forget it
Now get out of my way
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 1:34 AM UTC
I still remember that day
Still remember that rainy day
Our First Proximity
Those raindrops and we under one umbrella
Still remember the connections made in lab
That connections connected my heart to yours
Still remember those experiments performed together
Fails laughed upon
Still remember waiting for each other to go home
Still remember travelling together home.
Sitting side-by-side
Still remember those games we played
You being my player 2
Those memories just refuse to fade
Still remember those last moment study we did together
Those late night messages of assignments,
And wishing goodnight after completion.
Still remember waiting for midnight to wish Happy Birthday!
Still remember the increasing distance that led us here
You failed, even I failed.
But those memories still refuse to fade...
©aston_lopes
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
A football team called Aston Villa and
Their football skills will trill you and
On the pitch they shone
As us fans cheered on
As they scored goal after goal up the Villa.
Jul 27, 2024
Jul 27, 2024 at 8:04 AM UTC