"boone" poems
I remember helping bake
With my Granny....Elisie Boone
She always said
Whoever makes the mess
Gets to lick the spoon
I always liked to help her
I'd go see her every week
I liked that saying more than
Turn the other cheek
Granny always turned a phrase
And whistled a sweet tune
And whenever I helped make a mess
I got to lick the spoon
Time passed and my Grannies gone
But one thing still has clicked
whoever makes the mess still has
To make sure the spoon gets licked
Whether in the kitchen
making cookies or a cake
or ******** up with something else
I don't care what it may take
If you're the one who made the mess
you get what you deserve
It's your **** job to lick the spoon
No matter what gets served
Good advice, it don't come cheap
But good advice ....it stays
And lick the spoon is good advice
From back in grannies days
It doesn't matter what happened
I don't care how it tastes
You made the mess, now lick the spoon
Good advice don't go to waste
I still think of my granny
When I whistle that sweet tune
Remember, boy...you made the mess
Now...you've got to lick the spoon!
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Driving back
beside me
became a man
he said
cigarettes
and driving
are bride
and groom.
The crow
agreed
for me.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
3
“Sic transit gloria mundi,”
“How doth the busy bee,”
“Dum vivimus vivamus,”
I stay mine enemy!
Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”
Oh caput cap-a-pie!
And oh “memento mori”
When I am far from thee!
Hurrah for Peter Parley!
Hurrah for Daniel Boone!
Three cheers, sir, for the gentleman
Who first observed the moon!
Peter, put up the sunshine;
Patti, arrange the stars;
Tell Luna, tea is waiting,
And call your brother Mars!
Put down the apple, Adam,
And come away with me,
So shalt thou have a pippin
From off my father’s tree!
I climb the “Hill of Science,”
I “view the landscape o’er;”
Such transcendental prospect,
I ne’er beheld before!
Unto the Legislature
My country bids me go;
I’ll take my india rubbers,
In case the wind should blow!
During my education,
It was announced to me
That gravitation, stumbling,
Fell from an apple tree!
The earth upon an axis
Was once supposed to turn,
By way of a gymnastic
In honor of the sun!
It was the brave Columbus,
A sailing o’er the tide,
Who notified the nations
Of where I would reside!
Mortality is fatal—
Gentility is fine,
Rascality, heroic,
Insolvency, sublime!
Our Fathers being weary,
Laid down on Bunker Hill;
And tho’ full many a morning,
Yet they are sleeping still,—
The trumpet, sir, shall wake them,
In dreams I see them rise,
Each with a solemn musket
A marching to the skies!
A coward will remain, Sir,
Until the fight is done;
But an immortal hero
Will take his hat, and run!
Good bye, Sir, I am going;
My country calleth me;
Allow me, Sir, at parting,
To wipe my weeping e’e.
In token of our friendship
Accept this “Bonnie Doon,”
And when the hand that plucked it
Hath passed beyond the moon,
The memory of my ashes
Will consolation be;
Then, farewell, Tuscarora,
And farewell, Sir, to thee!
2.6k
Under the moon
In a unused lagoon
I swim alone
Searching for
A silver spoon
Ive heard rumors
The burial of
Old Doc. Boone
He had a fortune
Stolen from Mr. Blume
They left in his body
A Golden Harpoon
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
There is gold in them hills, he says
Gazing whistfully at her peaks and valleys
So he's going digging
Chipping happily away at each new glittering curve he discovers
She watched on in giggling, sunlight type wonder
Curious if he shall ever be satisfied
For he was of a thirsty nature
One for white lightening
Another for the metallic shine
Of her lace-edged divine
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
they ask me what makes me think of you
and i can't really say because
rain makes me miss you
and books do too
i miss you when i'm writing
and when i'm crying
benson boone
dark blue
the shining moon
all make me think of you
reading gives me that feeling
and so does that sweater
so i guess there's no healing
guess you're stuck with me forever
Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 2:11 AM UTC
There is treachery afoot
On the highest levels
Treason
Sedition
Malevolent power
From those that rule us
In their Ivory towers
Handing out laws
Made for men
That apply for all
Except to them
Greed and corruption
As they stuff their pockets
Help their buddies
All the while
Mock us
They think that we
Are just the little people
Dim and stupid
So far beneath them
But they have forgotten
That we are the sons of legends
Born of the Gods of the past
As surely as Hercules himself
But we are born of the Gods of freedom
Of Washington and Jefferson and Madison
Davey Crockett and Daniel Boone
The sons born of America
Birthed out in bravery and blood
And we see your treachery
And your blatant disregard
For freedom and law
And soon
The sons and daughters of America
Will be coming for you
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
Can we talk?
She said "Sure, give me a minute"
Wait a few seconds, that minute turned to ten,
Now one hour later,
She was ready to begin?
"What do you want to talk about?"
she yelled from
across the room.
Silence, I was sleeping.
But just then, she was about to hear the boom
So.......
She came at me like a wartime poet,
dropping bombs on my head like
I didn't even know it,
Ripped holes in my shirt
and I couldn't even sew it.
She busted rhymes in my mind
even CeLo couldn't own it.
Words flying so fast,
I coulda swore they were stolen.
She moved one step closer
and boom, I was falling.
Each time my mouth opened
I couldn't even answer,
Each word that I stut t t tered was
like lyrical cancer.
I ran around the room like
a Soul Train dancer.
Side stepping her questions
like I was her little **** prancer.
**** you, *****
my words just got a little fancier.
Whoah!
"Who do you think you are,
are you done spitting it yet??"
You began this little battle,
but I'll be the one finishing it.
My words are louder than gunshots
Cuz, I'll be the one killing it.
I'll just turn my *** around
Cuz you'd be the
one kissing it.
This is only the beginning,
and I'm not finished dishing it
Shhhhit!!
She just broke in with a loud
"OH!! YOU DONE YOUR TIME"
So you can get on outta here with those wasted lyrics,
stupid rap, and busted rhymes.
This is my house, boy,
and you ain't living off this welfare dime.
Now, go cheat with some other hoes
and sip on their Boone's Farm strawberry wine.
Oh and one more thing, you might
want to call 9-1-1,
Cuz I am about to commit
****** on your *** and a misdemeanor crime.
See you were nothing to me
but my little, poor "boy toy"
and when I say "little" ..it wasn't
very much of joy joy.
The only time I got real excited and wet
was when you were walking out
my front door, door.
So, now carry your sorry ***
on over to your ex's house
cuz she was the real effin' ***** *****
Oh, that 65" flat screen is mine, so is that X-Box,
touch one more god **** thing in here or I'll
double tap your ***
with the pair of my triple chromed 9mm hollow point custom made Hello Kitty Glocks.
Your time is up,
so say good bye once and for all
count it 1, 2, 3 or I'll punch your ******* clock.
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
Dwindling down in a paradoxical manor,
Running sock footed on the carpet.
Boxers, a tribute to some hulking Banner.
Parental piggies, sold off at market.
Home alone with no Pesci in sight
School board shaken with a deep voiced call
Bills unpaid, there goes the light
Pillow fort expanded into a cushioned sprawl
Imagination run on an empty stomach
Stale crumbs of old yeller, collecting mold
Child Services arrive for the plummet
Off to an orphanage, or so I’m told.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
Bob is seventy four
And fighting cancer
Every day.
He's had us plant seeds
For four o'clocks
Twice now.
He told me confidentially
That he knows the flowers
Weren't here
In Boone's time
But his mother always
Had them
And maybe they are his legacy.
I found one
Of his wandering
Flowers in the garden bed
Yesterday.
And four more
In between
My sage and horseradish
Today
I dug them up
And carried them
Home.
I don't think
We could forget
Bob
Anytime soon.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
My mother told me when she was living
that i had "black blood", was
related to Heidi Selassie, the emperor of Ethiopia at that time,
and heir to his throne.
As I've said a musical therapist here said that
because I had A positive blood I had all bloodlines.
My mother also said the Sturies were
Scottish, Lithuanian, regular German,
and I got a phone call- maybe I've already mentioned this- back in the eighties
when I was rooming with a black family that I was
part South American.
My mother also told me that I was
heit to the throne of Lithuania at that time
and that the Sturies are high German
which mean we're sorta preppy compared to everybody else
and that we're related to the likes of
Plato, Christ, ****** Von Steuben, and Metternick.
Interesting.
At least it didn't lead to me disintegrating.
I also read on the internet that the Sturies have a little Cherokee in them.
That's about all I know right now.
For more about my bloodlines
except that we're related to Hugh Hefner (it said on the internet)
that a friend of mine told me the Sturies are
distantly related to Daniel Boone.
So turn on your heatline
Neil Diamond
and reach out to me
when my father, bless his heart
comes back from
beyond the sea.
Charles Sturies
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 3:39 PM UTC
I watch these documentaries
About East Of the Mississippi Legends
Like Popcorn Sutten and D Ray White
The sound of Hank III on lonesome guitar
Or perhaps the pleading pull of sad violin
A tear slips as I too remember
When I used to be Wild
Running barefoot through dew drenched grass
I want to breathe that air again
The air of the Wild
They live on through fan or family
Each has lit a fire
Some under copper stills
Others on the heals of mountain dancing shoes
Smoke continues to roll out from under those of us affected
Our eyes searching each rain for more of the same
Boone County is beautiful
Something to write home about
All in one these coal stripped mountains are a larger than life package
That will steal your very breath
Replacing it with back woods romance
Late night campfire stories
Not to mention the heady fragrance of Paw Paw perfume
I grew up nestled between the Appalachia
Lush valley of the Shenandoah
I thought I knew what mountains were
I was wrong.
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 2:04 AM UTC
I bought a Joker bobblehead at an antique store
it bobbled it's head as I went out the door
it bobbled and turned
and with a laugh it said
get me out of this box *****
or I'll slice off your head
I turned right around
went back in the store
and asked for a refund
of $11.54 - including tax
I'm sorry she said
no refunds given here
now you're stuck with that *****
may God help you my dear
he's carved and beheaded
every Woody in my collection
he set fire to Buzz Lightyear
and gave Barbie a c-section
he's the devil himself
inside that bobbin' head
you'd better unload him
or soon you'll be dead
before she could put the closed sign on the door
I heard the feet of the Joker as they hit the floor
now you've done it she moaned
we've lost his *** now
I'm taking lunch
so find him somehow
before I could think of what my game plan would be
a voice, and a bob, bob, bob from behind laughed at me
'10.99 for the Joker plus tax!?'
and I turned just in time to catch Daniel Boone's ax
between the eyes!
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 12:43 PM UTC
We rocked, we rolled,
strolled through the revelers,
rocket scientists
wearing ripped jeans
& pointed rattlesnakes,
some had rose tats.
Cocksure, we rode
the ferris wheel
above the skyline
of never never land
& right down the street,
there was enough armament
to level all the strip malls
in the Springs.
Funny, they told us
we were the violent ones,
the dangerous kind,
tightly wound psychos
who sung anthems,
those sweet child 'o mine
pop tunes.
So hell yea,
we were tough,
the no-prisoner-types,
trained-to-kill fighters
wearing pearled buttons,
sipping Boone's Farm,
we continued
to spin circles,
spitting into the
cold Colorado wind.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
Much too late
for thoughts
of what her father
might say
Fay went with you
to the Globe cinema
in Camberwell Green
a right fleapit of a place
but the film
you wanted to see
was on there
Daniel Boone
all about the Old West
and after it was over
and you came out
into the bright sunlight
your eyes felt
over whelmed
after the darkness
of the cinema
what did you think?
you asked
Fay said
yes it was good
not the sort of film
Daddy would have let me see
well he won't know
you've seen it
will he
you said
unless he asks me
then I'll have to
tell him the truth
she said
why would he ask?
you looked at her
standing there
with her fair hair
and lovely blue eyes
he might ask me
what I have done today
she said
her eyes beginning
to show signs of fear
maybe he won't
you said
just tell him
you've been studying
American history
she looked at her hands
he doesn't like America
or Americans
she said
well you don't have to
like something to study it
I have to do it all week
at school
you said
maybe he won't ask
she said softly
looking at you
fiddling with her fingers
distract him
tell him something else
talk about a butterfly
you saw on the bombsite
she looked at you
and smiled
you don't know him
he'll ask me
what sort of butterfly
and I won't know
and he'll know
I've been lying
and that will mean
being punished
she looked up the street
toward the bus stop
we had better be getting back
she said
he'll be home soon
ok
you said
and took her hand
and walked toward
the bus stop and waited
for the bus
if I told my mother
the truth all the time
she'd have a nervous breakdown
it's more kinder
to keep her happy
in innocent bliss
of what I get up to
Fay looked haunted
and was silent
she still held your hand
a fading bruise just visible
on her upper arm
where her dresses sleeve
moved
how about some ice-cream
when we get back
I've got a Shilling
given to me
by my old man yesterday?
she hesitated
ok I’d like that
she said
and when the bus
came along
you both got on
and sat next
to each other
downstairs near
the conductor
watching the scenes
of passing people
and traffic go by
but a special place
in your mind and heart
of Fay
next to you
quiet and shy.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 5:13 AM UTC
We hung out on the edge,
in the border towns,
creating havoc,
a little bit of mayhem,
injecting Boone’s Farm,
perusing the streets
with insurrection etched
into our skins,
crying acid rain.
Imbibed,
flying higher
than the highest kites
& fluttering in the wind,
we walked scarecrow-like,
against the grain.
And if you looked in our eyes,
you’d swear we were touched,
touched by more than
anything sacred,
not from above
but from far below,
in a place near Hell’s gates,
we doled out pain.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
the birds are under the eaves
singing reeves
ne'er do they croon
like our Pat Boone
one could join them in a sing song
but not for long
one's singing voice
is far from choice
may the birds keep singing all day
in a happy way
as their trilling
is so thrilling
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
141 to 160 of 3251 Poets
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Lidia Torres
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Jack Agüeros
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Patrick Rosal
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Rachel Contreni Flynn
The Yellow Bowl
Dana Bisignani
Bankruptcy Hearing
Gary Metras
Lint
Jeff Worley
On Finding a Turtle Shell in Daniel Boone National Forest
Lucille Lang Day
Tooth Painter
Nancyrose Houston
The Letter From Home
Lyn Lifshin
The Other Fathers
Joette Giorgis
(Untitled)
Tim Nolan
At the Choral Concert
Picasso
Kathy Mangan
The Whistle
Michelle Bennett
Western
«6789»
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
We all have our taste.
We all are judgments.
And in music there's no different.
Except, people personal opinions.
Benny Goodman.
Duke Ellington.
Glenn Miller.
Doing their time, they were the music of soul to many.
When people probably dance a little different.
Frank Sinatra.
Vic Damone.
Nat King Cole.
Doing their era music had changed.
More was borrowed from the previous decade.
Elvis.
Little Richard.
Buddy Holly.
Fats Domino.
Gene Vincent.
Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke.
And yes, Pat Boone too.
The music of the soul were beaingt to a different tone.
Then came the sixties.
And a various style came before us.
The Rascals.
The Beatles.
Donovan.
The Beach Boys.
The Temptations and the Supremes and the Miracles.
Was totally changed from Neal Sedaka early days.
James Taylor, Carole King, Elton John and the Eagles.
Marvin Gaye, Teddy Pendegrass and the O'jays.
Was the masters of the seventies decades
The the eighties came.
And again the music changed.
Rick James, Prince and Madonna too.
Don't we see all the above artists in the music of today.
Especially, in rap.
Where they take an old song and tries to create a new tune.
And questions, why they getting sued?
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 9:17 AM UTC
From hood to hood
you can catch me smokin' blackwoods
to dutches & boone farm liqour quicker
than Draw Mcgraw **** the law raw
with this tale i tell no fails as i sail
deep into the ocean
takin' me to higher notion
Of **** this! & **** that!
so many don't know how act
When fame grows it comes & goes from fresh kicks to calicos
Pistol shinin' death waitin' for signs and
i lay low beyond the radar
Keep my head above the waters still slaughter
contenders they get no love from me
my heart pumps faster than a hummingbird
no koolaid too many gettin' sprayed
over dumb **** butthurt over modest sentiment
no time to repent cuz ill probably die in sin
but then again ill be reincarnated as a human
Which dates back when
i was born full of scorn souls torn into pieces
i patchin' up the scattered pieces
Hear my thesis
that i was made to be a culprit **** i can't find no peace
went from a hoopty to cadillac to ******* in the back
Chokin' on my nut sack
Now that im ballin' but still i find myself stallin' fallin' to stereotype
Since I'm vigilant and ripe
Listenly closely
i don't follow the hypppppEEEE!!!!
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
My bones are rusted,
leaky pipes
in that back alley
on Howard street
where my windows eye
twenty-somethings
shootin' the breeze
over whatever issue glides
through their mind at the time,
cutting their own kite strings
with scissor-sharp fingernails
they unwind,
conjoining over joints,
the fun times.
Where'd my friends go?
I feel heavy-headed,
elbows sore from resting
my cinder block chin
on them for hours,
watching these hooligans
in tye-dye rags
flutter down
the gutters of King street
like circus clowns.
And cirrus clouds
wander through
and over Boone
while I hunker,
disregarding the news,
the **** protesters
arrested by the blues
and I can't help
but hum along
with a gold finch
perched on a rhododendron
growing by my side
wall where some
graffiti artist
sprays the word
“Exist.”
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
talked to Woody yesterday.
he said, "this land is still yours, all of it. from the gulf stream waters to the redwood forest
what are you doing here, anchored? set free your soul's sail."
~
now we can go to Boone whenever we want. right now, in the middle of the night.
because the world is tipping over and filling up with timeless sand,
the shavings of little glass ships.
we can sail away now because "i ended it with her an hour ago".
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 1:15 PM UTC
She starred in a Star Trek episode as the girlfriend of Khan.
She was talented but it's sad because now she is gone.
She had Multiple Sclerosis and by 1985, she was bound to a wheelchair.
When she died in December of 2003, it proved that life can be very unfair.
She guest starred in such shows as Hawaii Five-O, Bonanza and Daniel Boone.
When she died at the age of sixty-eight, she died too soon.
Because of her illness, she was unable to reprise her role in Star Trek II.
She was a beautiful and **** actress and her name was Madlyn Rhue.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
Leftover hippies are not as trippy
except for when they flashback
Too old to get high, memories in smoke
can’t snort any more crack
They’ve been out there
where everything looks real
Tied-dye moons with pink stars
monsters made out if steel
Remember the pusher man
summer of love, 1967
All the grass and pills you need
Enough drugs to get high up in heaven
Mr. Natural and some Boone’s Farm wine
That’s how they kissed the sun
All the peace and love they felt
We are brothers, everyone
Aug 23, 2025
Aug 23, 2025 at 9:16 AM UTC
The most beautiful place on earth
Lives in North Carolina
But
I'm not sure what place it is
Maybe its the Blue Ridge
The Stretch of parkway between Asheville and Boone
The most ancient mountains on earth
And when your there
You can see forever
And you can feel it
The spirit
The sweet breath of the world
The way its loving arms can hold you
On top of mountains
Where you can hear
Gods voice
It had to be
That the king
Lives in the Queen City
Maybe its the stretch of sand
Ralieghs lost colony
**** Devil Hills and Nags Head
Highway twelve
Where the horses run wild
And the water is so peaceful
You'd gladly drown yourself
Just to forever be a part of it all
Where the most glorious sight
Is seen from a hill
Overlooking the Atlantic
And watching the sunrise
Alone
The most beautiful place on earth
Is in North Carolina
Waiting for you to arrive
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC