"goodies" poems
There once was a young man named Feste, and he was not a very good young man.
He was a thief, and a sneaky one at that. He would go to all of the stores in the market and steal anything that he pleased.
He loved to steal from the baker and the butcher especially.
He would go to his hiding place in the forest after his deviousness and eat away his stolen treasures, brooding on what a “clever little boy” he was.
The baker and the butcher knew though. They noticed him coming in most days and leaving in quite a hurry. They could not actually catch him in the act, but they knew beyond a doubt what he was doing. They were having drinks together one night though when they devised a clever scheme to stop him from stealing ever again. The butcher carved up a juicy ham, and the baker baked up a delicious pie, but they added a little something extra to it…
The butcher made sure to quite a bit of alcohol into the ham, and the baker did the same with his pie. They both set their two traps in the store, right when the spoiled thief Feste came strolling into the market with his eyes gleaming.
The baker watched him walk into his shop,the pie disappeared.
The butcher watched him walk into his shop, the ham disappeared.
They both smiled and went about their work.
Feste rushed to his hiding place and devoured his stolen goodies so fast that he didn’t even realize how peculiar it seemed to taste...
Not long after, he started to feel strange. Numb and stupid. He ran towards the village, acting a buffoon. The villagers stared and laughed at Feste acting so odd. His mother found him though and brought down the fury.
“Feste! Why are you acting like a **** fool?" She demanded.
He threw out a few words in a drunken stupor and swayed in place.
"Wait.. have you been drinking!?” She screamed.
“Noe maum! Allll Ie had todae is pie and haam!” He stammered in a drunken sway.
“And where exactly did you get those!?” She inquired.
Feste had a look of terror on his face and grew silent.
He was found out to be the no good thief and was punished severely, because his mother thought he stole the alcohol as well as the pie and ham, and he couldn’t prove otherwise.
Feste never stole again and he even apologized to the butcher and baker, though they still do have a laugh now and then…
The End
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
Oh my dream home
A home full with abundant of love
Home with lots of sweet and unforgetten memories
Home where my wife say goodmorning sweetheart with a warm kiss
Where my kids say dad we gonna miss u while you go to work with a peck on my cheek
A home where hug means daddy, sweetheart welcome home how was your
day
Home where my wife,my kids,my mum,my dad,my granny and my friends accept me for who i am
Home where you got a real hardworking dad
A fabulous cook as a mum
A home where we wait for dads prayers before we eat dinner
A home where your uncle and aunt is ready to spoil you with all the goodies in the world
Home where where grannny love visiting in other to play with her grandchildren
Home where your loved ones got your back no matter what happen
In good times they are there very close
In bad times they even got more closer saying sweetheart we got your back
They give you reason to wanna live again
The smiles from your sweets kids says everything is gonna be fine dad
The warm hug from your beautiful wife says sweetheart we will get through this
Home where mum and dad are always there to guide you from making same mistake they made
Though it seems the pressure is high sometimes but they want the best out you
They want you to reach that height they couldnt
My dream home is a home of happiness
My dream home is a home of love
My dream home is a home of accepance
My dream home is a home of protection
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 2:58 AM UTC
Come and Look, Come and See,
What is at the Bakery!
Dazzling, Lovely, Amazing too,
Something Special Just for You.
Delicious Cookies, Cakes, and Pies,
Tons of Delicacies Before Your Eyes.
The Scent of Sugar All Around,
Goodies, Donuts, and Breads Abound.
Sweet Tooth Calling, "Give Me More,"
Starts in When You Hit the Door.
Cravings Growing for the Treats,
Have to Have a Load of Sweets.
Absolute Bliss as You Give in,
To that Tempting Sugar Sweet Sin.
Oct 28, 2010
Oct 28, 2010 at 5:05 PM UTC
HERE IS WISHING EVERY INDIAN A
HAPPY DIWALI
On a dark no-moon day, comes Diwali.
Sing children joyfully, "aali re aali, Diwali aali".
Tiny lamps, make this dark no-moon night bright.
Indeed this is a beautiful, eye-pleasing sight.
Children, I know, crackers you love to burst.
But kindly a minute spare, n listen to me first.
Minutes few of fun, cause problems very big n grave.
People many, suffocated feel; n pollution we pave.
Frighten we, little babies n of course, dogs too.
In future, about our actions insane, we will rue.
Celebrate let us Diwali, with beautiful, colourful Rangolis n lights.
Share sweets special; homemade n healthy.
Helping moms to them make, even if you are wealthy.
Let's a portion small of these goodies, with the less fortunate share.
Prove let us to ourselves, that we really n truly care.
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
Vanity has created insanity in humanity,
the worldly hope men set their hearts upon,
possessed by Money, power, fame &respect;
empty pride inspired by an overweening
fruitless human desire,
wining and dining as the clouds darken in the
middle of the night,
as they settle for a life of deceiving enjoyment,
eyes are faded while he rest his body for a new
day,
he turns & roll in discomfort while he sleeps,
dreams are clashing, the fear of been poor
strikes his mind,
meanwhile the poor sleep in comfort ,
he won't wake up unless you wake him,
men of exotic fast cars,
Sell their soul to feed their vain pursuit,
and their happiness to feed their ego,
a life of unsubstantial enjoyment, reality awaits
its faith,
as it will be too late to plea of insanity in
eternity,
no hospitality for mental spirituality,
the vanity of human wishes reflect upon
superficial vision of human unfulfillment,
In essence that leads to eternal death.
the poor can't control his pain,
as tears drop from his eyes uncontrollably,
watching man with his fruitless ambitions,
as he settles for worldly materialistic goodies,
living beyond his means,
So many years on earth yet unsure of the
hereafter,
living a life of insecurity & fear of the unknown,
mention the word death ,he will ponder &
begin to wonder,
what his fate will be,
Vanity upon vanity,
When his time elapses,
he won't be left with anything but his good
deeds,
No mansions, no cars, no fame, no sweet voices,
what a life of vanity!!
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 3:34 AM UTC
You, with your supple and brown leather
I, with my gaze fixed on my father’s pocket
You, peeking out from its corner like a
Child playing hide and seek in a desolate ally
I, like the kidnapper, keeping an eye on your
Fragile movements, waiting for you to stumble
Into a dark corner and into my sinister embrace
So that I could get my ransom inside you, the
Little green strips of paper you contained
Toys, chocolates and kites my father wouldn’t get me.
You, with your expensive sheen, attracting me
To yourself like a gold ring attracting an eagle
Only to disappear as soon as my father left
For work and you, containing an enigmatic exchange
For little candies the definition of bliss to six year old me.
I, with my naïve mind thinking why I would get less
Candies and goodies when you would be frail
And devoid of those thin green leaves.
You, in the possession of my elder brother now
I, eight year old me, wondering if your gauntness
Made my father a dear departed.
You, I didn’t unravel the enigma of your long
Green leaves until I was thirteen and you
Resided in the back pocket of the Khaki trousers
My brother used to wear,
Now Tattered just like your old unkempt skin.
Dear Old Wallet, my dead father’s wallet
I liked you better when you were fat and fit,
Supple and shiny, brimming with coins and green leaves.
And when I was unaware, little and innocent thinking
You were a miracle for I only wanted toys back then
only to realize I need a lot more
For I am now cold, fatherless and bankrupt
But you are empty and thin, just like my
Dying mother.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
(To my sisters and brother)
I will always miss …
Our sunset ending quarrels
Our never-ending teases
Christmas’ shared carols
Warm hugs
Through sweet gazes
The sarcastic smiling faces
The growing-up races
Revenge taking chases
Greed over goodies to be hidden
In unpredictable places
And I will always miss …
Competitions and crazy bets
Singing hilarious duets
Of made-up songs in the shower
This innocence
Of our childish humor
Screamed from a room to another
That art of tricking eachother
To cleverly stay in control
Or wrestling over the remote control
And I will always miss …
Decades of shared history
Amplified joy and divided misery
Bursts of laughter on old tapes
Creatively imagined games
Of whirlpools in drapes
And goalkeeper leaps
Random costume parties
Daily role-play stories
Sega sagas from dusk to dawn
Alliances and conspiracies
Sisters, my lovely sisters
Wise, you have become
Loving wives, caring mothers
Soon, you will become
Make sure your kids relive
What we used to live
Their uncle will make you proud
Just like you fill him with pride
Brother, dear brother
I secretly looked up to you
As I grew older
I kept resembling you
It doesn’t matter
If you’re a little far
Brotherhood’s a matter
Of unbreakable bond
And I will always admire, respect, love and cherish …
Every single one of you
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
On a dark no-moon day, comes Diwali.
Sing children joyfully, "aali re aali, Diwali aali".
Tiny lamps, make this dark no-moon night bright.
Indeed this is a beautiful, eye-pleasing sight.
Children, I know, crackers you love to burst.
But kindly a minute spare, n listen to me first.
Minutes few of fun, cause problems very big n grave.
People many, suffocated feel; n pollution we pave.
Frighten we, little babies n of course, dogs too.
In future, about our actions insane, we will rue.
Celebrate let us Diwali, with beautiful, colourful Rangolis n lights.
Share sweets special; homemade n healthy.
Helping moms to them make, even if you are wealthy.
Let's a portion small of these goodies, with the less fortunate share.
Prove let us to ourselves, that we really n truly care.
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
Poetry is like sushi.
Sushi contains
Rice & goodies
Wrapped in nori.
Both are combined rolled
Into cylinders
Then cut
Into rolls.
Poetry
Is sounds & tropes
Rolled into images
Each poem
A unique
Experience.
When you
Eat Sushi
With chopsticks
You are too eat
the rolls
with just one bite
Sampling the wholeness
of the taste
and presentation.
May you
Devour
This poem
On the chopsticks
Of your feelings
And sample
The flavor
In the ink.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
AALI DIWALI
Excitement already there is in the atmosphere, our very air!!!
Goodies, gifts, flowers, lights we wish to, with dear ones, now share.
As citizens good, let's also exhibit some environment friendly care.
Banish Chinese items, I will, because I care for my India n also dare !
Use let us earthen Diyas, decorated in hand; Beautiful ones, beyond compare !
Candles Beautiful can be made or bought n decorated in a bright way.
Colourful Rangoli let us make with organic compounds, indigenous n rare.
Designs, with colours innumerous, one can create if one has a flair.
Same way, why pay so much to buy torn jeans, buy let's a decent traditional pair.
Traditional dresses so colourful are and look pretty n (no wrong meaning) gay.
Pizza, pasta, pastries boycott; try laddu, chakri or Khaja jo mawa se hei bhare.
Instead of flowers, gift Bamboo or money plants or other saplings; what say ?
Gift let us, things made in India. From China, let's willingly sway away !
"Aali Diwali" but create let us noise n smoke less. we must on this, an emphasis lay.
Innovative one can be, using imagination vivid to cute gifts make; n less amounts pay.
No WA, try and visit Grandparents, Mama, Kaka, Aatya, Maushi, is all I have to say !!!
HAPPY WALI DIWALI.
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 3:55 PM UTC
AALI DIWALI
Excitement already there is in the atmosphere, our very air!!!
Goodies, gifts, flowers, lights we wish to, with dear ones, now share.
As citizens good, let's also exhibit some environment friendly care.
Banish Chinese items, I will, because I care for my India n also dare !
Use let us earthen Diyas, decorated in hand; Beautiful ones, beyond compare !
Candles Beautiful can be made or bought n decorated in a bright way.
Colourful Rangoli let us make with organic compounds, indigenous n rare.
Designs, with colours innumerous, one can create if one has a flair.
Same way, why pay so much to buy torn jeans, buy let's a decent traditional pair.
Traditional dresses so colourful are and look pretty n (no wrong meaning) gay.
Pizza, pasta, pastries boycott; try laddu, chakri or Khaja jo mawa se hei bhare.
Instead of flowers, gift Bamboo or money plants or other saplings; what say ?
Gift let us, things made in India. From China, let's willingly sway away !
"Aali Diwali" but create let us noise n smoke less. we must on this, an emphasis lay.
Innovative one can be, using imagination vivid to cute gifts make; n less amounts pay.
No WA, try and visit Grandparents, Mama, Kaka, Aatya, Maushi, is all I have to say !!!
HAPPY WALI DIWALI.
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
heavy traffic
so we stash ourselves in the publix parking lot
and watch the flashes of the departing thunderstorm
she lays out on the buicks hood in a bikini top
a bead of sweat kisses her bellybutton
her thick dreadlocks spread like ropes
i pick one up and stick it in her ear
shes not happy with that
afternoon is all sunshine and watered down sodas
isles of plastic goodies and elevator musics
the old woman pushing her empty cart while dragging a bag
she goes to get her nails done
i push pebbles into parking lot puddles
and watch the sky drift in the reflection
she is half my age
she sticks her tongue in my ear
i dont mind
there are palm trees and lizzards everywhere
and pebbles in puddles
im a pebble and shes my puddle
shes all wet
im hard
we laugh in the forever summer sunshine
we dance in the parking lot puddles
of the fiveashes publix lot
and daydream the stars above
this is no ordinary love
this is passion's fire in the hearts eyes
shes my jezebel
im her poet
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
White snow falls onto the roofs
as we strain to hear reindeer hoofs
hoping for some of the Christmas joys
that Santa brings to good girls and boys
We dream of the toys that his helpers made
Trucks and dolls, trains and *****
stockings stuffed with goodies and the jingle of bells
and the many boxes wrapped by elves
The room cools as the fire dies
and we strain to not close our eyes
but we slowly drift away into dreams
visions of the North Pole and it's magical things
and when we wake in the morn' sun
we find the milk and cookies gone
with presents stacked under the tree
and stockings full of fun and glee
White snow falls onto the roofs
but we didn't hear reindeer hoofs
yet we know Santa came with Christmas joys
and he shared with all of the girls and boys
Dec 24, 2010
Dec 24, 2010 at 7:23 PM UTC
The officer said it was illegal but I've never been punished thusfar.
I knew it was wrong, but desire consumed me.
I grabbed the man and dragged him into my van.
He screamed and I laughed.
Brutal company.
It was going to hurt, of that I was certain.
His lack of consent did not stop me. I was on a mission, and James Bond always thrives.
I got in and drove as fast and as far as I could.
Speed bumps bring my daughter joy.
She giggles, I smile, he writhes in pain. My smile grows.
A pain bubbles in my clavicle but I digress.
But, I don't digress because it HURT.
I locked the angels in my closet for safe keeping. My mother is proud.
Blood is my favorite accessory. Hashtag period.
My friend always said I was cunning but I never believed her father was a good man.
After all, a good man would never commit such acts.
I threw the empty toilet paper roll at his grave then shouted at his wife's cat.
Meow. Meow, meow. Meow.
It sings the song of the hummingbird so I put it in a collar and walk it to the pound.
The pound sings the song of death, my song.
My student tool box is full of unfortunate goodies, and yes, my English teacher approves.
But I would rather she not. This is my journey, not one I shall share.
I aggressively slap the keys of life, hoping yogurt will seep from the cracks of destiny.
It never does, and I starve.
My granola is friendless.
Life is bitter, like the skin of a plum.
Fierce as a seahorse. But again, I digress.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
we'm from the valleys,
high in wales,
dull as donkeys,
hard as nails.
torvaen town,blaenavon gwent,
council caves,that some pay rent.
black and white tellys,
run on gas,
houses wiv lectric,is upper class.
we shoplift in winter,
cos summers no good,
you can't wear coats,
you can't wear hoods.
we once mined coal,
made steel and iron,
honest hardmen,
pittance relied on.
now thats all gone,
thro government bullies,
now hoodies steal goodies,
from tesco and woolies.
valley boy logic,
philosophy real,
all good fings come.
....to those who steal.
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 9:58 AM UTC
So, our hero of tha day waz DJ Herc
He b driven’ lil Mizz Dazze ‘round, in a pimped out Merc
Queensbridge waz tha birthplace of Hip-Hop
Red alert, it just won’t stop
It will hurt uz a bit
No more than a **** wid a hit
Wee all thank Merc 4 puttin’ on dat show
Smokin’ sum **** n angel dust, wid sum real blow
A bro named, Coke LA Rock, waz also a financier friend of mine
Handin’ out goodies 2 tha children in-line, all tha time
Nickel bag half n ounce, quarter pound pow, now wee poppin’
Az long az tha music izn’t stoppin’ and tha rocks r still droppin’
If champagne waz still a flowin’, then tha freaks wood b steppin’ in line
Hotel, Motel, u don’t tell, wee don’t tell, one-time root 9
There’s notta man dat can’t b thrown, a horse dat can’t b rode
A bull dat can’t b stopped, a disco dat can’t b rocked, can u decode
Were u @ dat famous house party, thee dope
Spinnin’ tha holy crates of hip-hop, wee hope
A1 B-boy from every known neighborhood, wid a scent
From JC, Tony D’, Sweet n Sour, 2 super DJ ‘Fcukin’ Clark Kent
Sellin’ nickel bags of cannabis, 2 miss layD hoes to mi crew
Made mi coin roll into notes, helping outta few dat I knew
Hip-Hop waz made 4 peace, love, unity n fun
Still b countin’ mi riches, retired n still layin’ in tha hot sun
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 1:50 AM UTC
A midnight run for food,
Has not come to fruition,
Everywhere is closed,
Last stop: delicatessen.
My heart turns to a shade of roux
That mirrors the glowing closed sign,
"No food for you!"
It mocks at me,
As I peer inside.
I think I'll break a window,
Just for halva nibbles,
But is five to ten in jail,
Worth the Jewish kibbles?
Oh deli, you've forsaken me,
By not relieving my hunger,
So I grab a couple rocks,
And start some wicked thunder.
There's so much food to choose from,
And it's all free for me,
But wait, oh no, I didn't see,
The camera light has turned to green!
I've been spotted by the deli owners
I should've worn a hoodie,
Now I'm going straight to jail,
Just to nom on goodies.
There's no point in running,
The red and blue are here;
I may as well just sit and wait,
Maybe grab a beer.
They sent a squad that spewed laughter,
When they saw their guy,
Just a dame, small in stature,
Making a ham on rye.
Luckily I'd made enough,
To feed the seven men,
So they radioed to all their friends,
And laughter began again.
Now that we're all satiated.
And I've been let go free,
I wonder, had it been opened,
Would I have such a story to tell,
"My Big Night at the Deli"
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Autumn’s snap is in the air
Like the crisp crunch of a ripe apple.
I want to gather them up from
The trees, take them home in bushels
Make apple compote,
Apple strudel,
Apple pie!
I want to stuff them into roast duck
With black walnuts and chestnuts.
I want to poach them with some pears
And sour cherries.
I want to make apple tarts with cranberries.
And feed them all to you.
Flour dust still in my hair,
Powdered sugar on my face
To make love to your appetite
With bits of apple goodies
In the crisp Autumn air - somewhere
On beds of leaves bursting bright
All in the colors of Autumn.
You’ll never think of apples
(or tarts) the same way again.
And Autumn, a little more exotic
A little bit ****** something
To look forward to
When Autumn’s snap is in the air!
© Lin Cava
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC
A huge crowd thronged the temple premises
Its vicinity, already bursting in color
With people in hundreds streaming in
The young and the old clad in festal attire
With fire in their hearts n' festive sheen in their eyes
Not driven by piety, mostly to enjoy the fanfare
Festoons decorated trees that lined the compound
Colorful lamps blinked everywhere
Sacred bells, chiming intermittent
At the auspicious hour, as devotional songs rent the air
The chief deity was brought out of the shrine
And was placed on the caparisoned elephant
Accompanied by pulsating percussion ensemble
The devotees cheered witnessing the majestic entourage
Within them the fervid spring of joy swelled
Colorful umbrellas were unfurled
Drawing synchronized patterns in the air
Under the glare and noise, the heat and sweat
Amid the tumultuous beat of trumpets
And the rhythmic sounding of cymbals
The crowd swayed in psychedelic lassitude
An army of hawkers had already set up shops
Each made it a time to earn some bucks
Selling knickknacks and goodies to tempt children
From ice creams to popcorn and colorful balloons
Children ran around licking cotton candies
Some enjoyed blowing up soap bubbles
And iridescent orbs landing softly on their hair and dress
With dusk fall, the ceremonious fire work began
The crowd stood aghast at the pyrotechnic display
Scintillating colors and confetti of sparks painted the sky
Shooting spears rose high and fluorescent rainbow colors
Came dancing down, fire wheels swiveled on the ground
Deadening roar of crackers and thunderous blast of *****
Tore the sky announcing the sleepy world;
‘It was once again festival time for the people to rejoice
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
The time of magic and fun
A time when there’s a chill in the air
Apples abound along with scents of cinnamon
Carved jack o lanterns
Faces etched creatively
Candles lit
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
The beginning of the holiday season
When cookies are baked
Pies made
Children dress up in costumes
Seeking a reward of candy and other goodies
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of celebration
A time of remembering
Good friends
Families
And traditions
Where turkeys are roasted
Sweet potatoes baked
Cranberries served
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of holiday cheer
Hot chocolate
Apple cider
Herbal tea
And peppermint
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of snow falls
Sledding
Snowball fights
Laughter and glee
Trees decorated
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 11:31 AM UTC
There's carollers outside my door
With the dreaded Christmas curse
They sing and sing and sing and sing
But, they only sing ONE verse
They ring the bell beforehand
All stand back and start to sing
I'm gonna do some rewire work
So my doorbell does not ring
They're from the church
They're from the school
They can not sing in tune
I can not wait for Boxing Day
I hope it gets here soon
They sing for cans of goodies
They open up their souls
I just wish they'd learn the whole **** song
Or they'd just all shut their holes
They come out every evening
They come out every day
I bet they've never heard a jingle bell
Or even ridden in a sleigh
Now, I like Christmas Choirs
It's not that I'm a Grinch
But, learn the words before you sing
It really is a cinch
It's a partridge in a pear tree
Not a bird stuck in a bush
These two cent hacks are able
To turn the nicest songs to moosh
Just knock and stand back silent
For three minutes, silent stay
Then I'll give you all ten dollars
So you will all just go away
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Today I write an ode to Joe’s
Procurator, seller, and trader
For my better half it is your coffees
For me, your store entire, for
Your bounty fills my refrigerator
Treasures spicy from India, Japan
Brought to us by your Trader San
From south of the border
Travel goodies galore-a
Compliments of Trader Jose
Then there’s Trader Giotto from Italy
Without a doubt, his yummies call me
There are Jo-Jo’s, curries, oh cho-co-late sweet
And did I mention lotions for feet
There is Pilgrim Joe’s and Trader Ming’s
Who bring to us the finer things
The wines, the drinks, the healthy oils
I dream at night of all your spoils
By way of mention, I cannot forget
Baker Josef who serves to us
Tasty bagels, delicious baguettes
Arabian Joe’s and Joseph Brau
Bring us falafels and rings in our beer
Oh, Trader Johann's and Trader Jacques'
For bodies clean and lips that are fresh
Your Joe's Kids keep mummy's happy
Trader Darwin's help us all stay healthy
Did I, could I, miss anyone?
Don’t want to leave out even one
Your marinated meats, your frozen treats
From Diner Joe’s there are lunches quick
For us working stiffs, his heat-n-eats
Oh, pumpkin scones and cereal O’s
I should not forget your sample bar
Where tastys await to test for my plate
And did I say how amazing you are?
While others sell just fluff and stuff
Of your yummy goodness
I cannot get enough
So if one day soon the Joe’s disappear
I’ll not fret, no i’ll not fear
On me for sure you can count the cause
Right down to your last breadcrumb
For shelves will be bursting in my garage
Where I'll be holding them all, without ransom
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
Day turns to night, crowds on the road,
Bonfires ignite, bangers explode.
Fireworks fly high, burst in the air
Dogs bark and cry, smoke everywhere.
Chinese lanterns float way on high
Flicker and burn, light up the sky.
Candle-lit pumpkins that terrorise
With wicked grins and evil eyes.
Cobwebs, spiders, vampires and bats
Ghosts and monsters, witches black cats,
Skeletons skulls, crosses, tomb stones
Look wonderful haunting most homes.
Children galore take to the street
Knock on each door, play trick or treat
Costumes vary, monsters and such
Some quite scary, some not so much
Bags big and small, buckets or tins,
Carried by all to keep treats in.
Getting goodies at every door,
Bars and lollies and so much more;
Monkey nuts, gum, fruit and sweets too
Money from some, a coin or two.
Kids excited, loving it all,
Each delighted with their own haul.
Halloween treats like colcannon,
Barmbracks with a ring in each one,
Traditional games for everyone,
Snap apple great Halloween fun.
Scary stories of days gone by,
Horror movies to terrify,
Howls and screams, nervous laughter,
Many bad dreams for weeks after.
There is no other night like Halloween,
People more frightened than they've ever been.
A great occasion for young and old,
Cannot wait for the next one, truth be told.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
I’ve waited so long for this day
Got to hurry, load the sleigh
Tonight we shall ride
Mrs. Claus by my side
Up to the sky, with hot cocoa to assist
So many children asleep in their beds
Waiting for morning to be surprised
With all sorts of goodies
I’ve spent the year working inside
Santa’s Workshop
See the elves wave goodbye
The reindeer are itching now to fly
So away we go, oh what a sight
Christmas is here
To all a good night
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
As the years you live
Are continuously progressing
You find new things
To keep you stressing
About a life that you
Hadn’t a thought about thinking
Because your head was in the clouds
And your hands were busy painting
Although time passes
Memories still hold true
Like those many times in math class
When you didn’t understand, and I helped you
Through the years I’ve seen you grow
And I’ve heard of some changes
But some things hold true
And I still have your paintings
A rose made of lead
A fallen savior risen from a blank sheet
And a man and his belly
With colors that made me think
About the person behind
These amazing creations
What a wonderful woman
With such a vast imagination
Beauty becomes you
And you’ve done nothing but flourish
Not one flaw would flaw you
You will always be timeless
Now, as these sentiments draw down
Let’s get to "brass tacks"
You’re all grown up now
And it might shock you to face facts
Because it’s hard to grow up
When all you want is to be young
To lay around with friends
And listen to your favorite song
This day is yours
In so many ways
Your 20’s are over,
IT’S YOUR FREAKIN’ 30th BIRTHDAY!!!
I hope the basket of goodies
Got to you in one piece
And didn’t arrive spoiled
Before you had a chance to drink and eat
Enjoy the cheese and crackers
In times of reminiscing
And save all the chocolate
For when you’re alone and pissy
The ***** is there for you
If bad memories should creep up
So you can wash them away,
And shut ‘em the **** up.
These are the first gifts
I’ve given in awhile
I hope it lifts your spirits
And brings you a smile
Now one last thing
Before my novice poem comes to a close
It’s just a short read
And it’s got a touch of flow
Take time to enjoy
All the things you hold dear
And grab all the moments
You can when they are near
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 8:37 PM UTC