"ringo" poems
PARODY OF "OCTOPUS'S GARDEN" BY RINGO STARR.
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade
They'd let us skid, and smoke a lid
In a marijuana garden in the shade
I'd ask my friends to come and smoke
A bowl of good until they all choke
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade
We would find digs, and ditch the pigs
In our little hideaway inside a van
Resting our head on a truck bed
In a marijuana garden on a ranch.
We would laugh at stupid ****
We'd forget why and take a hit.
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden in the shade
We would smoke and talk about
The police that put us all away
(put your stoner *** away)
Oh I'm high! I'm high as the blue sky
Forgot to go to work today.
(Unemployed today)
We would be so toasted you and me
No one there to call the boys in blue
I'd like to be in the country
In a marijuana garden with you
In a marijuana garden with you
In a marijuana garden with you
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
The Blue Rhinoceros.
So Blue Was He.
The Wind In His Hair.
The World At His Feet.
Once The Blue Rhino,
Who Wasn't Albino,
Ate A Man Named Ringo.
Who Was Writing A Bio.
The Bio He Wrote.
About His Pet Goat.
The Goat Was Quite Royal,
But Wasn't Too Loyal.
The Man Died That Day.
The Rhino Ran Away,
Because The Goat Was a Rhino,
And Not Albino.
Inimical
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 2:22 PM UTC
mr moonlight
mr nowhere
maxwell edison
mr jones
dr robert
sgt pepper
mr kite, bb king
edgar allen poe
walter raleigh
mat busby
the hendersons
and maggie mae
mr mustard
captain marvel
rita lucy jojo
vera chuck and dave
mother nature
polethene pam
mr heath doris day
and buffalo bill
loretta martin
**** sadie
hey jude eggman
my michelle
rigby and pilchard
or elenor and semolina
took father mckenzie
too see a dancing horse
henry his name was
rocky raccoon was there
prudence rode elephant
to the i me mine waltz
---
There gonna crucify me
the way things go
christ it aint easy
the next day dont know
you know the walrus was paul man
johns bird can sing
george was a genie
ringo wore a ring
but paul is dead now
george stole his soul
john is alive though
ringos in a hole
her royal highness the tax man
commit the perfect crime
she asked for more
with a belly full of wine
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
Lennon told me Paul was strawberry
George reminded me love trumps lord
Overboard overcome overwrought
Flower child fishtailed dovelike all aboard
Come together
Get yourself together
Soldered together
Like joint dance banners painted to promote teenage ******* to youth
Tied us into our best days ahead of us
Chained to our ***** we swung like gamers
Untied to our integrity
Wrecking wreaking havoc
Ballooned on hubris
Hemorrhaging ego unlocked spewing spite
I respect good works deeds above good intentions
Road paved with broken glass
Don’t respect me when I’m gone
Tell the folks it’s OK to sing along
Let’s spend the night together
Talk all night in the altogether
Rather gather in clover and heather
Happy Ringo’s nest a featherbed
Laying lady laid cunning linguist
‘xplain to me in chiefly straight talk
Who questions whom?
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
My brother, Jake,
He had what it takes;
Shaved when he was eight,
Strong as a boa snake.
He had hair
Like Ringo Starr,
But played guitar
Like Ravi on sitar.
My brother, Jake,
He grew to six foot eight;
He had arms like legs,
Muscles like beer kegs.
He was fast,
With a ball,
His speed could do it all.
And he could speak,
Like a priest,
He kept us all enthralled.
His wit,
It was quick,
And sharp as a paring knife:
He was funny,
He was cruel,
And well thought of at school.
My brother, Jake,
Had a running streak
Up his back,
At the sign
Of any trouble,
He left on the double,
That's my brother, Jake.
So you see,
As I see,
Size is allegory.
Jake's stature
May bring rapture,
But he's a little man to me.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
Fifty years ago this week
Sgt. Pepper he began to speak
Hidden deep just like a motley fool
Inside four boys from Liverpool
It took four lads as inspiration
to bring hope to a crying nation
After November's assassination
They grabbed us...we held on
John, Paul, George and Ringo
on Ed's Sunday Show
We sat back and watched them go
They grabbed us...we held on
They came and held the hand
Of a still in mourning land
A little skiffle band
They grabbed us...we held on
We were brought back from the dark side
We were on a rock and roll ride
With four young lads from Mersey Side
They grabbed us...we held on
They grabbed our hearts and souls
They expanded musics goals
They all had different roles
they grabbed us...we held on
In times...things were changing
The band was re-arranging
No more tours were staging
They grabbed us...we held on
Soon, they all went on their way
McCartney sang "Another Day"
John, he had a lot to say
George and Ringo...just played on
John was shot at decades start
It shocked the world and broke apart
Those who held him in our heart
The Beatles were no more
George died too, all things must pass
He always had a silent class
The parts aren't greater than the mass
The Beatles were no more
Is there anyone out in the land
Who will come and take us by the hand
I hope that you will understand
They grabbed us...we held on
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
wanted; - Liverpudlian rock stars
to sing fer me - the queen,
I'll pay yers all in corgies -
n transfuse ya wiv - caffine,
gorra bloke called ringo -
fer the bingo - inbetween,
support act - chewbacca -
n maca - in submarine.
Alan nettleton
May 7, 2010
May 7, 2010 at 10:43 PM UTC
The ghost of Christmas past dropped in
You see. he was completely out of wine
He had two stops to make by three
so, he borrowed some of mine
He asked me how i was getting on
since, he came around that night
with Jacob and the other two
and took me on that flight
i told him i was doing well
but, i thought he had to know
i was succeptible to pnuemonia now
since they dragged me through the snow
it's just the nature of the beast
that you may get a cold
the younger ones, not quite so much
it's just that you were old
i asked him where he had to go
and who he had to see
he told me , Ebby you know the rules
but, i can give you guesses...three
the first place that i'm off to now
is really not that far
this one, used to be a beatle
peace and love is for this starr
i was surprised that it was Ringo
he said, he had to be reeled in
his ego grew a little bit
and to his boss that was a sin
The second place he had to go
he needed wine for the bar
because he was going out to celebrate
and he brought a good cigar
He said this one, he's off his head
He's gone back fifty years
There's a lot of things he needs to see
So, with your wine, I'll need some beers
If everything goes as we hope
And he can make amends
He plans on calling Cuba
And saying...it's time that we were friends
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 1:30 AM UTC
Open up, Eyes
I've given you the prize
to see again.
Darkness.
Let me feel you
with my fingertips
Okay good, but dear
doesn't anyone have a light in here?
Darkness
Get up, feel around.
This place seems familiar.
Look up, look down
Figures become linear
Darkness
Click!
There it is.
Man, I should have cleaned the place
Oh, and everything is just where I left it
Great!
Rusty orange, forest green
Common colors that I'm used to seeing.
Look to my left
Bingo!
There's John, Paul, George, and Ringo
Take a step
creak creak creak
Floorboards never cease to make a squeak
Open the door,
what do you see?
So much more
than before
I went to sleep.
Darkness
What's that there?
Medicare?
The UNITED states?
What is this place?
So much for us
coming together.
I wonder
if it had not been better
if I had slept forever?
Darkness
Change is constant.
Diamonds are litter.
The warm and sweet
now cold and bitter.
Streets swarmed with people
wearing collars of blue,
wait a minute..
Our president is black too?
Darkness
Hollowed eyes,
Songs without melody
Selfish men disguised
as hearts with harmony.
Arrogance, ignorance
Obliviousness, incompetence
In this future
I shall only reminisce.
Oh, what did I miss?
Darkness
Slaving like slaves,
working like elves.
This is not what I wished
before 2012.
It's the end of evolution
but lets find a substitution!
Oh won't anyone help me look?
No even a trace?
Not even a sprinkle?
I'm living the life
of Rip Van winkle.
Darkness
Man oh man,
nothing's changed
And i used to think ****** was deranged.
So much for
coming together.
I wonder
if it had not been better
if I had slept forever?
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 9:31 PM UTC
Your pace to fast for me
It feels like yesterday
No one else makes me feel
Quite the same as you do
Acting without a care
You were wearing that shirt
The Revolver album
Little girl in a bow
I always like George best
Like his lyrics and like you
Maybe it was the hair
Still smell the dust and dirt
And I was on three
Ten years ago in May
You were on a two wheel
Still hear the bike wheels hum
Friends and me just a guest
John, Paul, George and Ringo
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
remember....damn, what his name...
it'a right there... I know I know this...
He used to play with the Beatles...
Uh...Bass left handed...
no, not John Lennon...the other one...
not George, you know the other one....
no, definitely not Ringo
C'mon Tag you know this...
was married to Linda
and then that other *****
He wrote "Michelle, my belle"
and yesterday, all my troubles seemed
so far away...
sont des mot qui vont tres bien ensemble
It's in there tag, don't blame it on the stroke
or the smokes
how can you not remember this...
tres bien ensemble...
If I can't remember him even for this
brief moment, did he even exist
in my solipsistic world....
now I need a place to hide away...
Oh crap...McCartney...
how do you forget McCartney
Paul...duh...
May 10, 2011
May 10, 2011 at 10:58 AM UTC
.
~His eyes are in the palm of his hand,
the sky is in his mind.
He wants to find new colors--
Who knows what he will find?
The wind is on the front porch,
the dog's mouth is quick to foam.
A tornado suddenly blows you away--
a long, long way from home.
Kansas is gone-
the Tinman said,
as the poppy fields
donned a million head.
A crimson explosion-
a juicy, ripe plum;
and a peace pipe full
of *****
John, George, and Paul
were comfortably numb.
Poor Ringo got a blister
on his drumming thumb.
This day could not
have been any more fun,
when Paul proved,
"Happiness WAS a warm gun."~
.
Jan 27, 2010
Jan 27, 2010 at 2:27 AM UTC
dear prudence.
do you want to know a
secret?
yesterday. she loves you.
no
reply.
let it be. act
naturally.
it’s only
love. for no one.
across the universe.
misery.
it won’t
be
long.
happiness
is a warm
gun. i’ll cry
instead.
ob-la-di ob-la-da
things
we said today.
words of love. helter
skelter.
within you without you.
come
together. all you
need
is love.
john. paul. george. ringo.
piggies.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 11:52 AM UTC
*Oh Abbey Road
who has walked your heart
singing from way back then
only the most famous of all
only to end with Let It Be
and please Just Imagine in 1969...
John, you wouldn't have many years left
your birthday came and we always loved
Paul, you will continue to sing your heart
and fly with Wings
Ringo, Sweet Sixteen, Your beautiful
and your mine
George singing to your SWEET LORD ...
We miss you John, its your birthday
your words are still magic, as we follow
you down Abbey Lane....although a bullet
took you away that FATEFUL day
December 8, 1980.
It left holes in our hearts
The torture, the publicity and Beatle mania'
took a toll, your life had an aura, you would come
on and perform a miracle just one last time
as we follow you down Abbey Lane and the Yoga
acid trip ...
Happy Birthday dear John
you are sooooo missed .
Debbie
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
to get away from annoying & cloying fans; Dylan took a flight down to Jamaica, where he met up w/ Bob Marley who was entertaining Hendrix
taking a break from touring; Hendrix bringing acid, & learning about Rastafarianism;
they're soon joined by John Lennon
& Ringo & set up in the studio, proceeding to sit around smoking herb
& playing music; making **** up, remaking their classics even
better & playing obscure blues tune;
heading out into daylight after days of this;
Dylan & Marley looking over & seeing no one in the booth,
realize they forgot to bring in a engineer & no one bothered
to turn on the tape recorder;
I heard this at an High Times party; take it for what it's worth..
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
THIS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCHL9b6nBXA
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCII)
Watch Paul McCartney's erm, debut of thence
That soulful number "Yesterday." and they'll
What, eh? If's not the song itself t'avail,
How 'bout John Lennon's snide remark for sense
To Ringo, was't? As if there was fr'intents
This rivalry which could not in betrayl
Be satisfied to have Paul up (sans bail?)
Alone on stage where all the girls cooed hence.
As if they did not cry for John in tour,
And that by name, he must begrudge it too?
I'm just a child in sheer compare as twere,
Yet "all grown-up" now to effect, see through
Their boyish ways and fall in love, though's poor.
While "Yesterday's" notes never fail to woo.
22Mar19b
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 9:50 PM UTC
I MET THE 'UPTOWN GIRL' IN A DOWNTOWN BAR,
BILLY AND I SPOKE AWHILE ACROSS MANY A JAR,
NEW YORK BUSTLED AND HUSTLED AND WE WHISPERED
ACROSS THE TABLE, LAUGHED ABOUT McCARTNEY'S THIRD MARRIAGE,
RINGO'S STILL WITH BACH AND WALKS IN CENTRAL PARK,
BILLY SPOKE ABOUT THE 'PIANO MAN,'LIT HIS CIGARETTE,
SAID THAT THERE WAS ALWAYS SOMEONE WHO HADN'T BEEN FULFILLED YET,
HE ASKED IF I'D SEEN ELTON LATELY - HE STILL USED
SOME SUNGLASSES THAT HE'D BEEN GIVEN AT A WILD PARTY,
ASKED ABOUT ANNE - I SAID THAT 'SHE'S ALWAYS A WOMAN TO ME,'
HE LAUGHED AND SAID THAT SOUNDED FAMILIAR, SIMILAR
TO THE LOVES IN HIS LIFE BUT YOU CAN'T BEAT A WONDERFUL WIFE;
THE SECRET HE SAID, WAS 'HONESTY' WOULD ALWAYS GO FAR,
THEN SHE'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, 'JUST THE WAY YOU ARE.'
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
I’m at a party
With my best friends Mary, Molly & Charlie
I’m wearing women jeans and a fishnet tee
With a smile I got from a post memory
I slip into a whole new personality
Because the other me needs some sleep
I walk around
Like I’m the bees knees and not the sheep
But I do say the most ridiculous things
Like Ringo was the real star of the scene
I wanna live inside Slash’s hat for a week
And Jim Morrison really died at age 43
I’m feeling things
These people are ******* ***** to me
They only love it when your mental health slips
It’s one big party for them until reality hits
That’s when they drift and forget you exist
Isn’t life one savage *****
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 4:16 PM UTC
i was thinking of the cavern club just the other daywhere in the sixties all the groups would playthere was lots bands who came from miles around they put it all together and made the mersey soundmy favourite was the beatles in there beatle suitswith there beatle haircut and winkle picker bootsthere was john and george paul and ringo toothey made lots of songs that everybody knew.there was many others so many i cant namethe beatles were the ones that always had the famethe music is still around to this very daythe sounds of the sixties will never go away
Mar 2, 2010
Mar 2, 2010 at 8:30 AM UTC
wanted;
Liverpudlian rock stars
to sing fer me - the Queen,
I'll pay yers all in corgis
and transfuse ya wiv - caffine,
I've gorra a bloke called Ringo
fer the bingo - inbetween,
support act - Chewbacca -
and Macca - in yella submarine.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
I went back.
A week later,
everything foreign,
off
the map.
Rain.
I bought
a strawberry milkshake,
your favourite
from that cafe
we had breakfast in one time,
and you told me
your middle name
with a mouthful of croissant.
I still don't know what it is.
It didn't taste as good
and the price had gone up.
Carousel was closed,
found a bench,
must've slept.
Woke up soaked,
clothes clinging to me
like Velcro,
dog taking a leak,
watch said midday.
Went walking.
More rain.
It took your footprints,
snatched them away.
I couldn't find our castle,
that too had succumbed,
crumbled to pieces
like you and me
and you.
I can still smell the sea
on your shoulder-blades,
in your hair,
on the gap
between your nose
and your lip.
Didn't like being tickled
but I did it anyway...
you still laughed
and made black days
wildly red.
A memory,
memories
trickling as bathwater
down a plughole.
We ate raspberries,
threw rocks,
danced about like rag-dolls
to songs we'd just made up.
I called you Ringo,
you called me John.
Now the waves,
***** diamonds
scare me as soon
as they skedaddle
over my toes.
You are not lost,
and yet
I cannot find you.
Rain.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
We sat anxious and low
in your bedroom cupboard
beleaguered by hollow briefcases
and stifling musty winter clothes.
Holding our cigarettes like a crucifix
hunched over the ashtray
basking in the lonely timid light
you yanked into life
with the tug of a frail string.
I was ready to speak existentially
ready to be immortalized
by the blinding flash of the ancient pictor
black and white
candid but purposeful.
Locked into my eyes
lingering in their intensity
my artistic mystery.
I was suddenly pulled from my disillusionment
as my wishful banter was silenced
by your stern hush
preferring a whisper so your
parents didn't hear.
I watched you take a drag
like a glass of water
in the middle of the desert
so desperate, so agonizing.
I watched you shakily tap
tiny flakes of your soul
into the ashtray
your eyes distant, mournful.
It was irreversible;
my childlike fantasy
of aesthetic in the smoke
on my breath--
not from frigid temperatures
but adolescent guilty pleasures
coveted forbidden treasures--
to turn into the ashes
I watched my friend flick
routinely into the tray.
"This is not James Dean," I realized.
This is not somber-eyed bedecked
in worn leather jacket
leaning against a cool brick wall.
"Neither is this 'A Hard Day's Night.'"
This is not Ringo smiling amiably
shaking his head with cigarette
bouncing and dainty on his lips.
This is huddled in my best friend's
cramped cupboard
watching him surrender himself
to a caustic lord who scorches his life
away
in every drag that burns between
his cracking lips
in every ash flicked from
his shaking fingers.
I watched the smoke envelop his weary body
I watched the ashes eulogize his fading spirit
I watched him bid farewell with his tired eyes
I watched him disappear.
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 1:41 AM UTC
Today the radio told me,
it was Gustav Mahler's 150th birthday
And Ringo Starr's 70th too.
I guess, in 80 years
Nobody else important
Was born on July 7th
How sad.
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 10:40 PM UTC
She’s curled up in bed with pint-sized
preschool princesses and their pageants
on the television. Wednesday’s don’t hold
much excitement for the new kid in town.
The music coming from her phone tells her
to hold out hope. The night’s not over yet.
‘Be awake in an hour.’ Four little words
turn her into a maniac. The dishes are done
and the laundry put away in record time. She slides
out of pajamas and into casual chic clothing.
Headlights flicker into the window. As quick as
the lights appear, they’re gone again. John, Paul, George
and Ringo tell her to open the door. The smell of Taco
Bell on his skin and the moonlight in his eyes greet her.
Making small talk as if that’s the way they’ve always done things
tells her that he’s found his very own princess, a queen really,
who dances to the beat of the same restless dream and that being the new
kid in town makes stuffing newspapers into envelopes on a sweltering
Thursday afternoon makes her feel useful. Making small talk like they do
a sad attempt at filling an appetite that should no longer be there.
‘I should go now’ breaks her every time. He stays a few minutes longer
anyway. The warmth that between their skin and the soft whispers
into ears remind them of the past. With a kiss on the forehead and arms
lingering around her waist a touch too long, he walks out the door.
Folding newspapers and stuffing envelopes keeps her mind busy until
the phone rings. His name on the caller ID takes her back but she answers
anyway. She probably always will. Making small talk won’t change anything.
Is she okay? He already knows she’s not but he still asks. They say goodbye
and go on with their lives. Him, with the girl of his dreams and the ability to
let the past be and her left to pick up the pieces. Until next time.
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 9:05 PM UTC