"greeters" poems
All I smell's Hawaiian Tropic
My vision seems very myopic
Bikini girls my visions topic
It's time to hit the surf
Lime and salty margaritas
Hot and **** senoritas
Bikini girls my visions greeters
It's time to hit the surf
Sitting here upon the beach
These women are just out of reach
In my mind I'd love to teach
But...you're the one I love
Tanned, long limbed and in the water
There's one beauty, I wish I'd caught her
Still, I think she's someone's daughter
I wish that you were here
Sitting here was all unplanned
Where all I see is surf and sand
It's heaven in this tropic land
I wish that you were here
Sitting here upon the beach
These women are just out of reach
In my mind I'd love to teach
But...you're the one I love
Ray Bans cover up my eyes
As I stare upon their oiled up thighs
I hear them yell and hear their cries
Youthful beauty at it's best
A boat drink full of Cuban ***
Brings me back to why I'd come
It leaves me feeling rather numb
I'm glad I'm here alone
Sitting here upon the beach
These women are just out of reach
In my mind I'd love to teach
Now I know why we split up.
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 7:09 PM UTC
Sometimes I steal
from grocery stores.
Nothing serious of course,
sprigs of cilantro,
basil,
snap garlic cloves,
sleeve a single strip
of green onion,
occasionally, palm a jalapeno
I think it is the tiny thrills
of being a petty villain
that provokes me.
The warm slick sheen
of salty palms,
brow sweat, and
the shivers of pulse
that drums
my heart
when door greeters pull me aside to
verify receipts,
and never notice my aroused pockets
tight and bulging
pickpocket produce.
I'm no outlaw
nor bandit,
I do not pillage or
plunder,
I know the gray lines
that divide
good and bad,
because I'm at one of their
thresholds.
The cashier checks my driver license,
and address before feeding a worthless check
into the scanner
where it gets tagged and stamped
I feel no thrills,
no bad boy euphoria,
I am too numb for elation,
and too numb for shame.
This crime Is justified.
I have three more days
till payday
and hope the check floats
Last week was a short paycheck,
gas prices are high,
rent is past due
cigarettes aren't cheap,
and then there's that drug habit.
I could only write it
for twenty five over.
It's going to be a hard stretch.
I stuff easy cash
into my front pocket
and try to catch the eye of a pretty cashier
an aisle over.
She drags barcodes through laser red eyes
that decodes sale prices
She doesn't notice me,
but she might not be into bad boys
A small girl waits
in a shopping cart
with pigtails
and new teeth,
holding a children cereal that comes with a prize.
Her mother does not see
her kick off her shoe.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
This for the little brothers
And the widowed mothers
To the Sunday morning snoozers
And the gamenight losers
To the wimps in the schoolyard
And even the bullies just down the boulevard
Shake the dust.
This is for the shopfront greeters,
The youth group worship leaders,
For the early morning joggers and the late night bike riders,
And for the boy who's crush loves someone else
For milk crate ball players,
And for the wallflower haters
Plant the forests.
To the sleepers and the dreamers,
And to the bed-wetters,
As well as the lonely love letters
To the broken hearts who write poems
And the broken souls that stole them
To men who work for a family they never see
And girls who want a lover but they'll never be
Split the seas.
For the heavens you have lived and the hells you felt you have gone through,
For the demons who have overcame and the ones yet to be overcome
For the ones who have stuck with the Lord all the same
And the ones who don't yet know His name
For the fair-weather friends the friends 'til the end
The overnighters and the stories told at campfires
Move the mountains.
This is to the poet, and lovers who don't yet know it
To the writers but it's just a hobby,
The Debbie Downers who can't stop me
This is for the authors whose books is left unread on dusty shelves
And the girls who hate the look of themselves
To the ones, that when it rains, they choose to sing
And the winter you must endure to reach the spring
Shake the dust.
This is to all of you,
and I will say it again: shake the dust.
Because from the dust you were made,
and to the dust you will return.
So let this poem not be mere words that barely flow,
may this poet not just be another kid,
too quixotic to change the world.
But might my poetry be the notes
which your words are carried by.
Let them swing and sway,
a piece to our battlecry,
some sylable in your life story.
Because from the dust you will rise,
so carry the dirt with you
and take the world by storm,
for the ground you scrape from your palms
is the story you form.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
We're the New Levites:
We're the early risers and cable layers,
sound checkers and coffee makers.
We're the greeters, the good to see-yers,
the washer-uppers, the kids' teachers.
We qualify by turning up,
with willing hands and open hearts.
We're the New Levites and refuse no-one
so step up today, the rota's open.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
Snow is in the forecast this weekend, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying events in and around Middle Tennessee.
The Best Buddies Club at Columbia Central High School is sponsoring a Prom Peek-a-Boo Fashion Show on Sunday at Westbury House in downtown Columbia.
Volunteers from schools throughout Maury County plan to model dresses in style for this year’s prom season. Tickets for the event are $10 each and can be purchased at the door. Proceeds benefit Best Buddies, a student organization that pairs students with others who have intellectual and developmental disabilities.
Club vice president Lilli Beck said most IDD students usually consider a parent or teacher as friends and usually do not have friends their own age. Peer buddies spend time with their buddy, calling them on the phone or helping them when needed, Beck said.
“We use fundraising to buy Christmas gifts and sponsor parties or helping our kids if they need something,” she said. “Some of our kids come from low-income families.”
Buddies also are expected to participate in Sunday’s events, serving as greeters and hosts.
“I hope I can convince one of them to say a little something at the end of the show,” Beck said.
2. You can’t live in Tennessee without remembering the king of rock-n-roll Elvis Presley, who would have turned 81 on his birthday Friday. There is a long list of activities scheduled at his Graceland home in Memphis, beginning with fans singing Happy Birthday at midnight. Go to www.graceland.com for event schedule and details.
3. Love is in the air in Nashville with the Enchanted Bridal Show on Sunday at the Hutton Hotel. Wedding and event vendors offer a variety of ideas and new styles for spring brides.
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses
www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 2:27 AM UTC
Anyone can posteth a hallmark greeting,
Yet canst they tell the future
With prophetic meanings?
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
4:15am
once and once again, the clock does not sound,
for in nether time,
there are no material measurements,
no actuality of numerals,
no millimeter notching's on skin for ordering
nether night nor dawn, an orderly dark disordering,
as time quietly flows all about your head,
as if it were an obstruction in
a gentling stream's path,
you, but a modest disruption,
a ripple of disappearing existence,
purposed for erosion
yet the unsociable media anoints me marked,
older, an e-naissance contusion upon the body,
your day of creation, your hour of invention,
has gone and passed
Paul calls,^
two melancholy men to melt into one
in word, in song, a comforting troubling
even,
an explanation proffered for the meaning of it all
the grand children,
send a generational appropriate video greeting,
an amorphous, porous, hug of electronic pixels
that will outlast every one of us
even
the last archeologist
nether this, nether that,
the lower register,
the upper hand,
the body, the work,
the body of work,
greeters both, sending morse messages uncoded,
your cracked vessel leaking deep water oil,
reminders that a horizon but another world,
another word,
for unobtainable,
all gone is just, all gone,
a blended beyond, marker of the nether place
of yesterday's and tomorrow's
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
You doting companions,
masters of mercy,
full of faults
and ever-forgiving,
delighters of spoils,
caveats of violence,
greeters of God,
givers of light,
gatekeepers of disaster,
lost in the balance
of chaos and necessity
and are most deserving
of love.
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
To all interested parties:
Be aware
My guilt button is out of order
Due to mismanagement
And over usage
It was burned up.
Please do not attempt
To resuscitate
Recalibrate
or commiserate
The loss
Empathy, compassion and gentle humor have agreed together to compensate.
For an unspecified time period
Joy and peace are their
Sunrise greeters and
Moonrise seaters
In this theatre of daily grace.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
sweaty back fat
rolling
over rolls --
eating a roll, I roll down to the roller rink and roll a joint
some buddies roll up and roll down the window
passing them the rolled joint I roll a second
recoiling over the soiled roach I toil in the sun
boiling oil and alcohol
when the coil goes out… their plans foiled
after a long draw and the subsequent hack I step back
attacked by the rack of snacks
and dabbing wax… far off a sax blows slow
noticing a spot on my slacks, I shake a fist at the smokestacks
and crack addicts
….and flax seed eaters
….walmart greeters
egg beaters omelet with bacon and cheese
fit of the munchies
pleased by the greasy ****** I seize the opportunity
to sneeze
freeze
inconceivable nonsense moves to the side a point starts to form
recapping, I like rhymes and poems
but I also desire to be taken serious….
I am thinking this is not the path
……………maybe I will have a bath
then do some math homework
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
would anybody care if i died?
i wanted to talk to a friend of mine
checked his birthday, october 8
fell on a sunday; my gift would be late
then i remembered my own birthday
also coincidentally fell on a sunday
opened up my facebook account,
2016, number of greeters didn't amount
to the pain i felt realizing i hated my life
i think i'd become an unemployed, poor wife
who was so scared to reach for the stars
because heights barred her, thinking, "i might fall from afar".
pbl-080117
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
replacing the SCOTUS
w/ children solves that
whole job-for-life crap;
no kid would want that
& the senile farts there
now would be Walmart
greeters if they could
even cut that, or sitting
yelling at their radios
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
It seems that unborn offspring
passing before birth
actually yield in the Spring
in blossom fragrant mirth.
In floret violet haze
hyacinths cluster eyes
harmonic in swaying gaze.
budding - the unborn guise.
Robins melodically ode
tuning for mothering Flore
that blessed be an abode
unlike dreams lost before.
Snowdrops, are stillborns,
eager infants - were close
sadden bells still mourns
eluded breaths and bows.
Garden times of springs
sensor a revival of life
a budding glow that brings
ardent greeters to rife.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 10:50 PM UTC
the skeptical scientific me
who wonders if it’s a show
people putting their best selves forward
for me and thee?
the faithful me who chooses to believe
in resurrection and life after earth
the me who remembers rebirth
and the joy that rained in my heart?
the me that lets go and falls into love
of the greeters and door-openers
happy to see smiling faces
on a day with parted clouds above?
the me bruised
with the bumps of reality and loss
nailed daily by the boundaries I cross
forgetting prayer and missing cues?
I know something of the person I am
but which self in which place
I fall into isn’t in a program.
In my better moments that fickle self
stumbles and falls into grace.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 11:58 AM UTC