"minie" poems - Hello Poetry

Decisions Eanie meanie minie mo one can not decide like so your past is gone, let it go eanie meanie minie mo We think they were childish games to play yet it tells our future each and every day Its a 50-50 shot you could go ether way But there is no turning back One step in the wrong direction and you are done for Because the key was thrown into the ocean that could only open the locked door behind you Like hot lava A playground game If you stumble off the side and landed in that hot firey pit of lava you were done for That ocean where the key was thrown into has turned into a nasty green The waves and seaweed churning under the dark stormy sky This is not a message in a bottle but more of a lost man at sea Every stepping stone could result in a broken heart A bruise A forgotten friend One wrong decision could cause a prodigy to die Like ****** His Mother almost got an abortion Her family told her over and over to just go through with the pregnancy She probably tossed that decision back and forth in her mind But her family won the match If she had decided to go against her family I wonder where society would be today Would there be dozens of Einsteins? A million Madonnas? Would there be a cure for all the cancers? For the common cold? Every judgement is a puzzle piece Every step you take back or turn in the unexpected direction is another step towards your fate Everything matters If you had gotten one more gallon of milk you wouldn't have run out so you wouldn't have gone to the store and meet your best friend there so you wouldn't be going to that Zumba class Then you wouldn't have met five of you new best friends and your husband All of that for a jug of milk

0

Mar 23, 2014

Mar 23, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC

trackgirl3

Decisions

Decisions Eanie meanie minie mo one can not decide like so your past is gone, let it go eanie meanie minie mo We think they were childish games to play yet it tells our future each and every day Its a 50-50 shot you could go ether way But there is no turning back One step in the wrong direction and you are done for Because the key was thrown into the ocean that could only open the locked door behind you Like hot lava A playground game If you stumble off the side and landed in that hot firey pit of lava you were done for That ocean where the key was thrown into has turned into a nasty green The waves and seaweed churning under the dark stormy sky This is not a message in a bottle but more of a lost man at sea Every stepping stone could result in a broken heart A bruise A forgotten friend One wrong decision could cause a prodigy to die Like ****** His Mother almost got an abortion Her family told her over and over to just go through with the pregnancy She probably tossed that decision back and forth in her mind But her family won the match If she had decided to go against her family I wonder where society would be today Would there be dozens of Einsteins? A million Madonnas? Would there be a cure for all the cancers? For the common cold? Every judgement is a puzzle piece Every step you take back or turn in the unexpected direction is another step towards your fate Everything matters If you had gotten one more gallon of milk you wouldn't have run out so you wouldn't have gone to the store and meet your best friend there so you wouldn't be going to that Zumba class Then you wouldn't have met five of you new best friends and your husband All of that for a jug of milk

38

Eeenie, Meene, Minie, and Moe all stood under the mistletoe. Eeenie kissed Meene. Minie kissed Moe. Meene got mad… She loves Moe. Minie told Eenie, “Meene should know, kisses go ,with mistletoe.” Meene was mad at Minie and Moe, and shot them both by the mistletoe. Minie survived but you must know this story is over… ‘cause there ain’t no Moe.

0

Nov 27, 2011

Nov 27, 2011 at 9:21 AM UTC

ron-tranmer

Meenie & Moe, & Mistletoe

Eeenie, Meene, Minie, and Moe all stood under the mistletoe. Eeenie kissed Meene. Minie kissed Moe. Meene got mad… She loves Moe. Minie told Eenie, “Meene should know, kisses go ,with mistletoe.” Meene was mad at Minie and Moe, and shot them both by the mistletoe. Minie survived but you must know this story is over… ‘cause there ain’t no Moe.

17

catch a person, of African/Asian/European/Amerikan/Antipodean extraction, by the prejudices. When she/he files a fatuous complaint at the Court of Human Responsibilities let him/her board a Plane back to where she/he came from clutching a Louis Vuiton goody bag full of strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding politicians speeches, and as much moolah as he can carry and several contracts to appear on reality TV. Food for the journey will be a Cup of bitter gall and a rapidly melting Vanilla Ice-Cream containing at least 20 chemicals that will destroy his/her ability to synthesise Testosterone. Inflight entertainment will consist of the oft repeated lies of all major "religions"spoken in oh so sincere voices, by old paedophiles wearing bedsheets, consumed with stupidity and hatreds that are thousands of years old ******* stewardesses and bottomless stewards will hand out suicide tablets with cheery smiles and hearty cries of "Bon Voyage!!

0

Oct 5, 2014

Oct 5, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC

mannley-collins

Eenie meenie minie mo

catch a person, of African/Asian/European/Amerikan/Antipodean extraction, by the prejudices. When she/he files a fatuous complaint at the Court of Human Responsibilities let him/her board a Plane back to where she/he came from clutching a Louis Vuiton goody bag full of strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding politicians speeches, and as much moolah as he can carry and several contracts to appear on reality TV. Food for the journey will be a Cup of bitter gall and a rapidly melting Vanilla Ice-Cream containing at least 20 chemicals that will destroy his/her ability to synthesise Testosterone. Inflight entertainment will consist of the oft repeated lies of all major "religions"spoken in oh so sincere voices, by old paedophiles wearing bedsheets, consumed with stupidity and hatreds that are thousands of years old ******* stewardesses and bottomless stewards will hand out suicide tablets with cheery smiles and hearty cries of "Bon Voyage!!

23

Coco and Minnie Minie is Minnie Pitch black with amber eyes Two full moons on an autumn night Untamed and toiling with mischief Coco is Coco Smooth white with brilliant blue eyes Restless oceans of spontaneity As tempered as Neptune If they've taught me anything It's that I am out of control

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Sep 27, 2018

Sep 27, 2018 at 12:06 AM UTC

dan-2

My yin and yang

Coco and Minnie Minie is Minnie Pitch black with amber eyes Two full moons on an autumn night Untamed and toiling with mischief Coco is Coco Smooth white with brilliant blue eyes Restless oceans of spontaneity As tempered as Neptune If they've taught me anything It's that I am out of control

11

"How do I know who I can trust?" Said Eve to the garden snake "You can trust me", the serpent replied As his forked tongue began to shake "I'll be your friend and you'll be mine, And Adam doesn't even have to know" "Just take one bite, it'll be alright, And you can tell him I told you so" Well a worm came out of that apple Before Eve ever got it to her lips He said, "What are you doing?, run away, Don't listen to the snake's evil tips" Eve was confused by the snake and the worm And didn't know what to do So she said, "Eeanie, meni, minie, moe, I think I'm gonna pick you" Now we all know who she chose that day Not the worm, but the serpent instead She had some protein with her forbidden fruit When she bit off that poor worms head

0

Feb 21, 2011

Feb 21, 2011 at 1:58 PM UTC

larry-b

Garden Conversations

"How do I know who I can trust?" Said Eve to the garden snake "You can trust me", the serpent replied As his forked tongue began to shake "I'll be your friend and you'll be mine, And Adam doesn't even have to know" "Just take one bite, it'll be alright, And you can tell him I told you so" Well a worm came out of that apple Before Eve ever got it to her lips He said, "What are you doing?, run away, Don't listen to the snake's evil tips" Eve was confused by the snake and the worm And didn't know what to do So she said, "Eeanie, meni, minie, moe, I think I'm gonna pick you" Now we all know who she chose that day Not the worm, but the serpent instead She had some protein with her forbidden fruit When she bit off that poor worms head

20

We need more Martians , they nattered at me all the time, More monsters—people like to be scared, As if those callow youngsters, Growing up with two cars in the garage And three sets at the country club, Their fraternity mixers at Whittier or Occidental, Knew the first **** thing about terror. Still, they wanted me to grind out the harum-scarum hokum They enjoyed watching two-reelers on Saturday afternoons While men were doing hard work in Leyte and Manila, As if the transitory fear of some ghoulish bogeyman Would last through the thirty-second epics Featuring some cartoon bear shilling for beer Or bunnies extolling the virtues of toilet paper. Let me tell you what fear is, I would say time and again, *It’s a padlocked fence and a smokestack Which isn’t churning out a **** thing. It’s the jobs you can’t get because you said something (And more likely, you didn’t) twenty years ago. It’s one more envelope from the bank or the phone company With bold red lettering on the front That you don’t open because you know what it says And how it doesn’t matter one bit, Because you can’t do a ******* thing about it*, And these promising young men would just look at me Like I was some poorly made-up extraterrestrial From one of their Buck ******* Rogers potboilers. Several of my neighbors here were among the men, Mostly boys in truth, who marched with the 126th New York, Taking fire at Petersburg and The Wilderness, At Spotsylvania and Cold Harbor. We have spoken about the horrors of war, The kaleidoscope of confusion and dread, No direction leading to shelter, no road guiding the way to home. They have said that, as frightening as the sound of the minie ***** Zipping overhead like malevolent flies, And the cannon were, what they found truly awful Was the manner in which those fields, So like the ones where they had flushed out quail as children, Became foreboding nightmare landscapes, Containing a dark madness That they never dreamed could have existed.

0

Mar 6, 2017

Mar 6, 2017 at 10:28 AM UTC

wk-kortas

Rod Serling Muses From His Plot, Lakeview Cemetery, Interlaken, New York

We need more Martians , they nattered at me all the time, More monsters—people like to be scared, As if those callow youngsters, Growing up with two cars in the garage And three sets at the country club, Their fraternity mixers at Whittier or Occidental, Knew the first **** thing about terror. Still, they wanted me to grind out the harum-scarum hokum They enjoyed watching two-reelers on Saturday afternoons While men were doing hard work in Leyte and Manila, As if the transitory fear of some ghoulish bogeyman Would last through the thirty-second epics Featuring some cartoon bear shilling for beer Or bunnies extolling the virtues of toilet paper. Let me tell you what fear is, I would say time and again, *It’s a padlocked fence and a smokestack Which isn’t churning out a **** thing. It’s the jobs you can’t get because you said something (And more likely, you didn’t) twenty years ago. It’s one more envelope from the bank or the phone company With bold red lettering on the front That you don’t open because you know what it says And how it doesn’t matter one bit, Because you can’t do a ******* thing about it*, And these promising young men would just look at me Like I was some poorly made-up extraterrestrial From one of their Buck ******* Rogers potboilers. Several of my neighbors here were among the men, Mostly boys in truth, who marched with the 126th New York, Taking fire at Petersburg and The Wilderness, At Spotsylvania and Cold Harbor. We have spoken about the horrors of war, The kaleidoscope of confusion and dread, No direction leading to shelter, no road guiding the way to home. They have said that, as frightening as the sound of the minie ***** Zipping overhead like malevolent flies, And the cannon were, what they found truly awful Was the manner in which those fields, So like the ones where they had flushed out quail as children, Became foreboding nightmare landscapes, Containing a dark madness That they never dreamed could have existed.

42

. In da mornin yeah ( Dis very one ) We were like kids comin on Into the great adventure Of life and love • Goin Eenie , meenie ; minie ..: AND .. mo // Yeah baby Stay with me Gonna be good times You 'll see :: .ernie meenie minie AND mo // High hill song Early riser Gotta know what's goin on Gotta be a new man Come the new dawn • Eenie Meenie Minie AND Mo X

0

Oct 1, 2016

Oct 1, 2016 at 12:28 AM UTC

jeffrey-robinta

eenie .. meenie. ... minie ... AND. ... mo

. In da mornin yeah ( Dis very one ) We were like kids comin on Into the great adventure Of life and love • Goin Eenie , meenie ; minie ..: AND .. mo // Yeah baby Stay with me Gonna be good times You 'll see :: .ernie meenie minie AND mo // High hill song Early riser Gotta know what's goin on Gotta be a new man Come the new dawn • Eenie Meenie Minie AND Mo X

30

The ancient ones, when warfare came to stay, knew what to do. They combed their hair upon the rocks. Blades grew keen and bright. Greaves were fastened sure about their ***** Heads encased in helmets; eyes grew somber. Return with all your shields, the women cried, or else upon them. Battle smeared their tunics red with blood. Some came home, and some found homes where spirits are embraced. Their descendants know a different way of war, more lethal and more telling- the bombard and the mass assault, the arquebus and pike, the canister and cannon, the minie ball and shell, mustard gas and trench mortar, the blitzkrieg and the mushroom cloud, cluster bomb and ****** and silent death from above. Some believe the noble way is killing face-to-face- but I confess that death at distance also has its place. Ancient peoples fought their battles firmly on the ground- but we fight on a sea of war, and we must swim, or drown.

0

Oct 10, 2016

Oct 10, 2016 at 11:17 PM UTC

ravendave

Spartans

The ancient ones, when warfare came to stay, knew what to do. They combed their hair upon the rocks. Blades grew keen and bright. Greaves were fastened sure about their ***** Heads encased in helmets; eyes grew somber. Return with all your shields, the women cried, or else upon them. Battle smeared their tunics red with blood. Some came home, and some found homes where spirits are embraced. Their descendants know a different way of war, more lethal and more telling- the bombard and the mass assault, the arquebus and pike, the canister and cannon, the minie ball and shell, mustard gas and trench mortar, the blitzkrieg and the mushroom cloud, cluster bomb and ****** and silent death from above. Some believe the noble way is killing face-to-face- but I confess that death at distance also has its place. Ancient peoples fought their battles firmly on the ground- but we fight on a sea of war, and we must swim, or drown.

27