"betcha" poems
MIST CREEPING SLOWLY
The morning found
only blood & feathers.
The fox leaving
only Death
& its presence
& the gossip of the frightened chickens.
My uncle swearing
‘til the sky was blue
(early morning clouds that the sun shone through) .
An embarrassed ****
like a mad alarm clock
crying like a cartoon “cock-a-doodle-do! ”
My uncle dispatching him
with a quick kick.
“Oh yeah, and where the hell were you? ”
I take in the scene of the massacre
& whisper:
“I sure wouldn’t like to be a chicken! ”
* * *
All that next week
my uncle stalked the chicken coup
waiting for the fox
who was clever enough
not to turn up
until the eight day
driven by his hunger & his nature
she stared into my uncle’s cold metallic sight
& the evil acrid smell of a cartridge caught in flight
as both it & the fox(shot through the head)
fell dead
at my uncle’s muddied boot.
My gentle uncle delirious with Death
the frosted air
stained with his breath.
His voice almost transformed
into an animalistic hoot:
“Hey boy, betcha didn’t know I
could shoot! ”
The good side of the fox’s face
seemed to still laugh
at the very idea of Death.
I whimpered:
“I sure wouldn’t like to be a fox! ”
The countryside
brutal & Biblical
demanding
a life for a life
Yet all I could see
was Death...Death.
Priest-like...
I knelt & whispered
a quick act of contrition
to the fox’s carcase.
My uncle probably thought
I was barmy.
That night in celebration
my uncle wrung a chicken’s neck
(the chicken’s name was Patricia)
& I declined the clean
white breast
still haunted
by the chicken & the fox’s
death.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:14 PM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
that which used to take ten minutes
now takes an hour or
two
something's that used to take an hour or
two,
now take ten minutes, give or
take,
(mostly I do the taking)
(or as the little voice whispers, the mostly
faking)
betcha you'd like to which is what
and what is which being bewitched,
I ain't spilling no beans
cause I value my insanity's privacy,
and I don't got to give that up just yet
but if you want the worst of what little I got left,
unhappily I will approach the old muse
begging me giving me something to use,
bad she turns away bad she say
*"You all tricked out,
you wares worn,
ye old styles from yester last month
you been styled by
H&M;
30 days max,
then
ring in the new, and if all sold,
or none-at-all,
too bad for you*
then you gotta decide:
wear a watch
or watch the wearing
with small
pleasures sighed,
confirming, night-moves,
gonna
Keep On Keeping On
Living
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 2:31 AM UTC
Look here. I've been admiring the spectacle
of Ng’s bare **** Yes,
this is simply because I have to say
Ng’s bare **** is magnificent.
It’s not a bouncing Botticelli but it’s
a slim, firm bottom, subtly rounded,
real split peach and cream stuff.
And Ng at the other end
is a real nice girl, too!
She's my friend, see?
But back to Ng’s bare **** Let's stay focused.
I contemplate this vision,
along with the meaning of life,
quite often in broad daylight
with a slash of sunlight across her little buns.
This is more profound than the Tait, the Louvre,
the Met, the Frick, the Neue, the Helly, the Hermitage or even
the Natty Portrait Gallery all bunged in together.
Ng's bare **** is also better, by far,
than anything you'll see at the Bolshoi or La Scala.
I’m amazed at how much I’m amazed by
this work of art. It’s awesome.
And I betcha the most famous galleries would
fall over themselves to display this finest little **** that is,
if the world wasn't so hung up with hypocrisy and hysteria,
yeah, it'd be heaps more famous than the Mona Lisa.
Mike T Minehan
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Valerie
She's a pretty girl
Betcha never see her in pigtails
La dee dee
Dee la dee la
La la la dee
Valerie Valerie
Valerie
The light of the moon
Doesn't shine as bright as you
La dee dee
Dee dee la
Dee la la la dee
My Valerie
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 6:54 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester,
On the basketball court
Prince had to come up short
At least that what
Charlie Murphy and them thought
So they went to his house
Thinking they’d just get ******
And the basketball could wait
But then they heard Prince state
He asked,
In his high heels and all
Wanna play basketball?
The shirts vs the blouses
Now you may be six feet tall
And I’m clearly small
But I betcha
You’ll lose your trousers
Eyewitnesses say
That Prince could play
Better than any of ‘em knew
He could shoot and defend
Against the much taller men
And before the game was done
Charlie Murphy said
Prince led two to one
“No hard feelings.
Let’s shake
Would ya like some pancakes,”
Prince is alleged to have asked?
Nevertheless
Who could have guessed
They’d be the best
Pancakes that they ever had
He asked,
In his high heels and all
Wanna play basketball?
The shirts vs the blouses
Now you may be six feet tall
And I’m clearly small
But I betcha
You’ll lose your trousers
“No hard feelings.
Let’s shake
Would ya like some pancakes,”
Prince is alleged to have asked?
Nevertheless
Who could have guessed
They’d be the best
Pancakes that they ever had
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
"I always wanted to wander."
"To wander? To where?"
"From Walla Walla to Uganda."
"That's a wide world to wander!"
"You wanna?"
"Wanna what?"
"To wander?"
"To where, Uganda?"
"Youbetcha!"
"I don't want to onomatopoeia anymore!"
"Are you refusing me?"
"You're confusing me!"
"Do I do that usually?"
"Yes, and it's abusing me!
"I didn't used to be."
"But you see it's no use to me,
So start talking lucidly!
You're coming across abstrusely
By talking so loosely.
You've got a lot of 'splaining to do Lucy."
"It started out grand!"
"But quickly got out of hand."
"But you fail to understand."
"You should have planned."
"Is that a reprimand?"
"You're like the ampersand."
"I don't understand."
"It means 'and per se and';
The pronunciation became bland
And three Latin words became 'ampersand'."
"But, don't you need a vacation?"
"What is the relation?"
"It's a matter of pronunciation,
And sometimes punctuation.
Some words deserve elimination.
Yes, and some deserve illumination.
Thus my original illustration.
In the interest of communication,
Some things deserve enunciation."
"I will accept that explanation."
"But, I'm still hugely fond of
The two of us going to Uganda;
As we internationally wander
I'm sure it will make you fonder
The more the two of us wander."
"But I really don't wanna!"
"Don't wanna what?"
"Go to Uganda!"
"That's what you don't wanna?"
"You betcha!"
"It's okay. They probably won't letcha."
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
Shirley!
Shirley, Shirley bo Birley Bonana fanna fo Firley
Fee fy mo Mirley, Shirley!
Lincoln!
Lincoln, Lincoln bo Bincoln Bonana fanna fo Fincoln
Fee fy mo Mincoln, Lincoln!
Come on everybody!
I say now let's play a game
I betcha I can make a rhyme out of anybody's name
The first letter of the name, I treat it like it wasn't there
But a B or an F or an M will appear
And then I say bo add a B then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a
fo
And then I say the name again with an F very plain
and a fee fy and a mo
And then I say the name again with an M this time
and there isn't any name that I can't rhyme
Arnold!
Arnold, Arnold bo Barnold Bonana fanna fo Farnold
Fee fy mo Marnold Arnold!
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
I look around
and it seems that everyone is happy,
that they are doing something right.
I look around
and it appears that I'm sad,
that I'm doing something wrong.
Well it ever unwrong itself?
Each letter thrown unnaturally on to their haphazard paper is worshiped, studied, praised
by all.
I've been doing this longer...
Shouldn't I be better?
I watch as all others rise on their platforms of aimless potential.
Raw potential.
What about skill?
I sand alone on a once even; now sunken chasm of lost heart.
The award goes to...
It's gonna be me
It's gonna be me
Everyone knows it.
It's GOTTA be me.
It's not me.
See that tiny dot?
That black speck of irrelevance??
Do you know what it is???
That's me.
And do you see that sea of shining smiles????
The golden accomplishments gleaming?????
Do you know what that that is?
That's them.
Once upon a time, I was up there,
gleaming along with the rest of them.
Maybe even a podium step higher.
Then suddenly, as if powered by light speed elevators, they shot away.
Their glimmering faces glowering down at me and snickering.
I don't understand.
How is what they did any better than what I did?
Who is keeping score?
Betcha my bottom dollar their prejudice.
Whoever they are they caged me in black walls of shunned solitude.
And proclaimed a law against me.
What against me?
I'm not sure.
But the dark walls are closing in, the glistening sea is shrinking
and that tiny little dot...
That's me.
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 12:07 AM UTC
You know what I think is sad
I used to miss the way you would curse
I missed every lie you said,
even though your lying was the worst
The tapes in your bag said it all;
the discs you spun said 'whatevs'
or 'I'm deep and loving'
I betcha you thought people heard The Smiths
and didn't think you were bluffing.
Your poetry was garbage, too --
I don't blame you for scrapping your work.
You lied about cutting your legs,
the pain under your pale skin,
you exhausted every quirk,
and wished for more within.
I betcha you're sitting somewhere
twenty-something and super-bored.
Probably still choking on your cigarettes
against your matress board,
criticizing people thinking differently
I hope one day you read a book
and ask who would publish me
You're probably the words
stuck in some other's throat;
resenting you and the
****** Mountain Goats.
I never liked to criticize
the way you looked,
but your teeth are the
second most crooked
thing about you
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
FRONT PAGE NEWS, CALL ALL THE PRESSES.
Most Americans by now realize that all sales of gasoline go directly to terrorist. To quote Obama "Isis is 10 times as powerful as any previous terrorist group." Yet he had the gall to "loan" GM Corp. millions of dollars for the sole purpose of building more gas guzzlers. Didn't you know what you were doing Bam? Betcha got Hal stock from **** didn'tcha.
Here in Hackensack, most of the members of the Hackensack Police Department own SUV's so that they can look cool in their support of ISIS. It is not my desire to make anyone look bad. I just want to bring awareness to what is happening here. Most politicians received stock in Haliburton (the largest manufacturer of war equipment in the world)
which **** Cheney worked for, for thirty-five years before he was chosen, er, stole the vice-presidency. And most Americans agree that he should do time. Yet, Here in Hackensack, the local police department continue to drive gas guzzlers, fully supporting Isis. Hey!, they stated. It's our American right to support whatever cause we want. It's a free country isn't it?
Eerily still, at the Johnson Public Library (in Hackensack), there is a security guard who wears a full beard resembling a terrorist (talk about putting fear into your readers. This guy makes Stephen King novels look like fancy boys.) but, I guess it's too late to take action.
The only thing left to do is save yourselves. I heard that Canada is a free country. Maybe I'll move there and not worry about some Mexican who will (crawl through a tunnel that goes underneath a fence that the Donald's mob buddies built to) take my place.
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Diabetes high blood pressure
Don’t cha let either one getcha
Heart attack bring out a stretcher
Catch a stroke and then I betcha
You’ll begin to exercise
And try to diet if you’re wise
It only takes some discipline
To get out the fix we’re in
Come on fam' get serious
These things mostly affect us
In ways too numerous to mention
Now do I have your attention
Tell me what you wanna be
I’ll bet it’s not an amputee
Who’s going blind but don’tcha see
That’s diabetes’ history
And I hate to bust your bubble
It might lead to kidney trouble
And your liver has no double
Once you’ve turned it into rubble
Come on fam get serious
These things mostly affect us
In ways that I soon shall mention
Now do I have your attention
Tell me fam’ what will it be
I don’t know so you tell me
This deadly cycle has to end
Wonder when it will begin
Now’s the time this is the hour
Cos the solution’s in our power
Come on fam' get serious
These things mostly affect us
In ways that I soon shall mention
Now do I have your attention
Death has such finality
But that’s where you could be
If you don’t follow me
And try to change your destiny
Death is just the bottom line
You had best keep that in mind
When you sit down to dine
Avoid all foods that are refined
Come on fam' get serious
These things mostly affect us
In ways that I soon shall mention
Now do I have your attention
Tell me fam’ what will it be
I don’t know so you tell me
This deadly cycle has to end
Wonder when it will begin
Now’s the time this is the hour
Cos the solution’s in our power
Diabetes high blood pressure
Don’t cha let either one getcha
Heart attack bring out a stretcher
Catch a stroke and then I betcha
You’ll begin to exercise
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:52 PM UTC
Ay yo waddup people, just a crazy teen
I'm tired as **** but nah ain't gonna phase me
Got my knife in my pocket, nah nobody knows
But I think theu will if they fuckin' **** me off
Speak of the devil, here comes an annoyin' *****
Whinin' about her problems
******* shut the **** up
I'll fuckin' stab her in the head, slowly take it down, make sure I can hear her ******* blood runnin' in town
Make her bones fuckin' shatter, her flesh melt off, her face fuckin' dismembered, betcha won't whine now, *****
Haha
All these *********** lookin' at me like I'm crazy
**** maybe I am
Come close and you'll see
The fuckin' hell in my eyes, the psychotic twitch
Why you backin' away, what's wrong, *****
Just bring ya neck a little bit closa, hell, how about ya body
Bet it tastes delicious on a plate right in front of me!
Come on, gimme a taste and no I don't mean your ***
Why you think I got this knife?
I wanna fuckin' eat ya, ****
Bet your guts'll taste good in mine
Oh come on, don't fuckin' scream
The red is drippin' from stomach, looks pretty fuckin' good
But I think I'll wait for the entree
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
One, two, three, four, come and get me!
You betcha, I will.
She stared at her greenish, blue veins jolting through her pale porcelain wrists-
like ancient twisted tree roots;
growing,
growing from her fingertips down to her toes.
Reaching towards the heavens
and stretching down towards hell.
Or perhaps her veins were a lighting bolt electrifying her skin;
striking her wrists,
pulsing through her upper arms.
Five, six, seven, eight
She was one with the blood.
Flowing through her bloodstreams,
the universe inside of her.
nine, ten, eleven, twelve...
Shards of glass, like millions of angels coming to save her.
She picked one up.
Held it to her skin.
She crawled into the bathtub.
Watched the water turn red.
Gotcha!
Come inside girls, it's time for lunch!
She finally understood
who she was again.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
Its possible to imagine reading this on you tube live,
it can happen, it aint Wutang wu wei woo woo dangle
bait, bait, betcha
ready
betcha did, betcha won and didn't know it,
down to the dimple in the chin, a Haps
pers happenstance of time and chance, all we know
it gets thrown in the mix and out comes
happen,
that's what's happening. Roll the bones.
The lot is cast into the lap, but the whole dis
posing
there
of... the lot, the die, the rolled filipped coing coing cong
{stop} re en state
What was the last co-gent, co-gentle, thought?
Religrelegreligreleg etaoinshrdlu to you. FS.
AH, fightin' words, kettle drums, Tibetan gongs,
Hopi Kokapelli flute,
sweet, a turkey gobbled outside my window
and I laughed, and that did good,
like a medicine.
Dec 25, 2022
Dec 25, 2022 at 1:02 PM UTC
The governor stated he's sorry for his love tryst.
Except with him.
It seems he's bragging.
And then he spoke too much.
The public only knew about one.
Oh, that son of a gun.
He could have stated like a president did.
Which was self denial.
That he never had an affair.
Oh, that son of a gun.
Or be like Edwards and run from the truth.
Until his mistress had a child as proof.
Oh, that son of a gun.
Just another candidate out having fun.
Mmm, I think I should run.
I might not win.
But I betcha.
I have a mutiple of friends.
We expect to be surprised.
Who hadn't met a candidate's that hadn't lied.
Oh, that son of a gun.
Even with a bad back.
We know of a politician that had him a actress.
Which supposely shared with his brother too.
Oh, those son of a gun.
Just another leader trying to find a pleaser.
And they everywhere.
We all know about Tiger mutiple affairs.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 8:49 AM UTC
"You sure do smile alot"
The birds always say
"You betcha"
I reply with a smile
But open my purse
And ask for a nurse
Because it's filled to the brim
Sorry if this is too grim
But my purse is a house for razor blades
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
Falling into his“Love Batter we learn to think
what really matters its a science
Not a test this is far from the reader's digest
Traveling East or West what motivates you the best
How every ingredient makes you feel cozy
Rose sprinkle no time to be
(Rip Van Winkle) no sleepy time Chai tea time
How do we ever find the time
Telling someone to be mine be more entertaining
then tell her you really love her what's inside her
How to flatter her and give her your better heart of time
Send her an equally love letter with your love ingredients
Be obedient with poise light up her baking flowers pansies
A musical instrument with a subtle sound of noise
Something is giving you the crunchies
Her baking lips how they cream into the stem rose pink,
I fell for her red-hot, ones love batter I wanted to drink
Radiant as can be the next sugar high shot
Any suggestions
On so many missions
Love liaisons add some golden raisins
Love was coupled hands mixed eyes double
Falling for him and lifting her up sings.
Her gravity spooned angelic wings.
sugared and floured hearts angel dust.
We bond together to trust.
For the right reasons Valentine all seasons.
I suggest we get started I cannot resist
The moon shuffles wedding list
A-Couple A-+stumble
Kisses of an hmm-yum gamble
He’s hot and I am cold
Weather together eyes coupled
We stay strong where we belong
You Betcha or I will bake ya…
When we come together we listen.
The birds heat lucky red words.
Get’s easier the same person glistens.
We have and baking fingers hold.
The same kisser reaction
extraordinary to marry.
Love triply floppy disk.
Hands wedding finger
mixing perfect whisk.
How he bakes me a cake.
His easy task heavenly
love falling ingredients divinely.
All the right condiments.
Sugar dissolved love pursued.
I never in my life felt like this.
Love so crazy glued…
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
NO nature - metaPHORLESS.
Betcha can't do it.
Nor cAN the forrest. Finally.
Anapaestic tetrameter withheld.
Again, **** classicism
Copyright © 2012
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 9:30 PM UTC
So make me scream
in disgust and delight
under your touch that
holds the weight of the
world just beneath the
pores and prints.
Make me cry
in sorrow and joy
with your lips
as they push against
mine like a car crash
or a freight train picking
up speed as it heads straight
for the station.
Make me laugh
in irony and sincerity
beneath your gaze
that haunts my
dreams and thoughts
like ghosts in the garden
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 9:37 AM UTC
street walked on every day,
traffic in four lanes go both ways,
is there a place of peace and rest
or is tweeking happily
at a city bus stop of glass and silver grey
the best we can expect, with a cop and partner
at a bus stop nearby, dealing with an angry young man but
she is dressed in camoflage she has more moves than a basketball
team while her man, her protector, garbed in matching clothes,
holds his head before it implodes, again
while she undulates and bends her spine,
and each vertebrae releases the next
while her face remains perplexed.
Just as is, mine. as it is only 12:17, just after noon.
Take the world at face value, the mist hangs heavy,
there is no sunshine on this misty grey day,
the mist is so heavy feels like rain anyway,
how did she get here with him,
betcha the bus driver won't let them on again,
so my mind wanders
where in their lives did decisions and choices bring them to this point,
and why with all my missteps and listening to those voices in my head that I end up anointed
with a job that pays,
with a wife that stays, by my side,
with kids that give back to society,
with a grand-daughter who says "hi"
to everyone under the sun, under the mist,
while I under my breath,
I heave sighs, and "why Lord, whys?"
and a place I can vent AND A PLACE I CAN VENT,
when there is nothing I can to do help them
but pray.
©DWE102013
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 11:07 PM UTC
Skits
so-so-
soothing
Sweet
.nothings...
All me stitchings. - - -
He
draws
you
To fetch the
Sketch
By the bed
clock
Virginity- lock
Birds
the
word B, S,
White
feather
Storks
Bothered
Talking to
himself
Kvetching
Earth to me
myself
All looped in
Silvery earrings
His eyes
deep-set
piercing
It took
nine
years
He finally hears me!
He's the
tiger___*
TV Skits
watcher
I am
itching
for
something
Higher reach +
nails
scratching
Her
private
eye
Gel
FBI packs
LoL
His
Virginia
Slim
lady
Acting isn't
her
thing
Earthling Amen
A-Man morning
stretching
The best time?
Be
on
time___*
No
time
Traveling
He's in
my way
his
presence
Anger!!
manage-men
Those
noisy
women
Yentas----
He
is
cursing
Like
a tourist
accidental
Jungle-Maniac
The African
forest
Green money
Sin-shine yellow
Bananas
Jane goes
Panama
His skits
Drinking up
Werewolf wealth
bills
Clinton X presidential
All bits Teenager zits
Whitehouse
Superheros -Zebras
Lined
black
All taken the white
I will betcha
All complainers
Dreamers
Those Black and
White cookies
Computer
cookies
Ripley
believe
she splits
The
wedding
Never bound
to
happen
No, I love
you
heading?
Here to Earth
Eulogy
Why was it
Not
white
Turned out
black
The funeral
The maze tunnel
A part of you
He left his heart
in San Francisco
In the Island
of Marco
The olive oil
Ceco
His love skits
Ciao now Bella
Take the gun
Come to Papa
My cannolis
Love fit wine and they eat
More skits to their beat
What a **** hot fiasco
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
This doesn't work too well,
no it's not very nice.
I should have stayed away,
taken my own advice.
Things could be better
if you'd move a little closer,
move a little closer
and warm things up.
Well now, I like my life,
it seems to serve me well.
if you're going to be my lover,
well you've got to be my pal.
just forget the shouldn'ts
and forget about the shoulds.
It's just a crime
when things don't work out
the way they could.
Rolling, rolling, rolling.
A little something
is better than nothing at all.
the only positive thing
is that all is said and done now,
yea it's all been said and done.
Things could be a little better though,
if you'd move a little closer now,
come on a little closer
and warm things up.
It feels like my life ...it has served me well,
I'd say I'm pretty happy,
though some times it's hard to sell.
Don't you come down on me,
'cause I didn't fly,
it's not a crime if you don't fly too high.
I'm going to move on back
to my single bed.
It's better to rule a lot of a little
than to fight with a king-size contention,
but it could be better, yes it could.. you betcha.
Come on and warm up this old heart of mine,
maybe move a little closer and everything will be fine.
come on little darlin',
move a little closer and warm things up,
come on a little closer and warm things up.
© 2000
All Right Reserved
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 2:08 AM UTC
That grimy young man who stands on the street
holding his old cardboard sign
it can't be that bad, he's still on his feet,
I'll betcha he could work just fine.
That worn looking woman who pushes the cart
my God, what a pity to see.
Look long enough and it might break your heart.
That could never, ever, be me.
That sad looking man who begs by the store,
he always makes me feel funny.
I'll give him a little, I refuse to give more,
I work too **** hard for my money.
That shabby young girl who waits for the bus,
not once has she had the whole fare.
She begs, and she's loud, and she makes such a fuss
that I have to pretend I'm not there.
We've all seen the woman, the man and the girl,
and we know there are so many others.
These are the people who share our same world,
these are our sisters and brothers.
Please don't look away, look straight on.
Can't we see that nothing is changing?
With each coming day, each new dawn,
let our hearts do some new rearranging.
Do one little thing, no matter how small,
it's only some time that you're taking.
But we've got to stop doing nothing at all,
there will be no change in the making.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:37 PM UTC
all food costs money my
poetry is free you betcha
Jun 26, 2022
Jun 26, 2022 at 4:05 PM UTC