"siree" poems
Staying still
I try to drain
Every last
Little drop.
Tilting back, I
Grip the neck but
Don't break it, God forbid
I'm in no shape to clean up a mess
Though I'm an expert at making them,
I tell you what, I hate the television, all
those shiny happy people like in that
song I don't know the words to, but it's
obviously true, watching these shiny
happy lives with all of these beautiful
people who are probably ugly on the
inside, just like me, going home to sit
in their expensive new recliners and
grip the neck but don't break it, don't
make a mess that you can't clean up
drain every last drop even if you don't
really want it, 'cause it used to make
you feel much better, and now it's just
routine, like brushing your teeth and
trying to sleep and telling old friends
that you're fine, fine, just tired, so very
tired and I'm trying to stare through the
television to see these stupid phonies at
home in their own chairs, drinking from
a bottle like this one as if it might save
their sorry lives, like I'm trying to do
right now, tilting it back for just one
more drop, ****** there is no more
and I'm not done drinking but the neck
is slipping from my hands and I'm trying
to drink it down, **** it up when I let go
of the neck and drop it and there is a mess
for me to clean up, I tell you what, all that
broken glass and those elusive little drops
that could've made everything so much better,
could've fixed me but oh well, guess I can't
watch TV anymore, 'cause I've got a mess to
try to clean up right now, yes siree, guess
that even the shiny happy people have to
**** it up and fix it every now and then
just like me and you and everyone else.
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
Look what the cat done drug in
Slow on down... darlin’!
Hol’ yo horses!
Don’t go get’n a conniption fit
Or get’n your knickers in a knot!
Hush up
Or’n I’m a goin **** a knot in yo tail!
I’m busy as a one legged cat in a sandbox,
but I’m fixin tell what we got here at JuJu’s
Now lookie here...
we got
crawfish mild spicy
crawfish medium spicy
crawfish spicy spicy
we got
crawfish with corn
crawfish with sausage
crawfish with potatoes
we got
crawfish with red sauce
crawfish with pink sauce
crawfish with melted butter
If y’all a bit dry...
we got
crawfish with canned soda
crawfish with bottled water
crawfish with beer
crawfish with BYOB
Or we gots
jus’ crawfish
Go on an pick how yo’ want yo’ crawfish spiced, then go on an decide what yo’ wanna add! I reckon we gots dang near 362,888 ways to eat these here mudbugs
You might could get
spicy spicy crawfish with
Zummo’s sausage
spicy spicy crawfish with corn
spicy spicy crawfish with potatoes
spicy spicy crawfish with
Zummo’s sausage and corn
spicy spicy crawfish with
Zummo’s sausage and potatoes
spicy spicy crawfish with
Zummo’s sausage, corn and potatoes
spicy spicy crawfish with
Zummo’s sausage and beer
spicy spicy crawfish with corn and beer
spicy spicy crawfish with potatoes and beer
spicy spicy crawfish with
Zummo’s sausage, corn, potatoes
and beer
I could go on...
till I’m plum tuckered out... but...
Got it? You good??
You want mushrooms
Well, I’ll be
Don’t go axin... what we ain’t got
No siree bob, no mushrooms
We also ain’t got tea, sweet or unsweet
But sweet’s the only way to have tea sweetie
If you want soda, you can get
Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Dr Pepper
Diet Dr Pepper, Hawaiian Punch, Brisk Tea
Or Root Beer
We also got shrimp... just boiled
We also got gloves... half a dollar
Well, I’m worn slap out!
Watcha have a hankerin for?
Take your own sweet time!
Sit a spell
You’ll soon be full as a tick on a big dog!
Happy as a dead pig in sunshine!
You’ll wanna slap yer mama!
Can’t decide hon?
I do declare!
Aren’t you precious?
(now... he startin get on my last nerve)
Still...can’t make up your mind?
Well... I can’t do it fer ya!
(bout aggravatin as a rock)
You picky?
(Lawd have mercy!)
Bless your heart!
© 2019 Jim Davis
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 11:41 PM UTC
Aching hearts or burning bridges?
My mind races as quickly as your footsteps run amok in my sanctuary.
No peace of mind resides, so peace, I have to leave you behind. Love is all you need, what a fallacy. Trust builds real love. If it flees then love is but a drug, numbing senses, dulling intuitions, instincts,
If it smells like rotten eggs, it stinks
Pleadings and pleasings,
Return to sender please.
Wrong address because you’re not ready to please my mind, ease my mind. Don’t want to me to see the last seen.
Foibles, fumbles, stumbles,
Reminiscent mistakes are daggers to my heart.
Yet, out of the bloodbath comes no effort made to ease the ache of a heartbreak, only sorrow and pain left in its wake.
The struggle continues, solitary soldiering, destined for a peace longed for to ease a troubled mind.
I find it you know, that peace I was looking for.
But nothing is free, oh no Siree,
Especially, not peace.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC
It’s a cruel old, desperate world.
Yes it’s a cruel old, desperate world.
Don’t often do the blues,
But you’ll know it when I do.
So hard to be a Reject,
Yes, so very hard.
So lonesome on your own.
You know where I’m going.
Those women do the choosing,
Yes Siree.
They sure do the choosing
And they ain’t picking me.
No passing on my DNA,
The line stops here.
No children will I produce,
Though I ain’t a queer.
Can I say that now?
In this PC world.
Probably not,
But my flag’s unfurled.
Well I warned you all.
These are my blues.
I’d much rather be writing
About some blue suede shoes.
Chuck Berry rocks
I have to say.
Like him I’d rather
Send you smiling
On your way.
These blues are haunting
And full of soul.
I’d rather be uplifting.
That’s my goal.
Paul Butters
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
Sat on a stationary train in Doncaster because the guy said my MOT would be done today. He said it would be done today or if he needed a part, he wouldn't start on the car so that I could use it tonight. But it wasn't ready tonight. And he didn't leave it until tomorrow. So tonight I'm on a train. Tomorrow I'll be driving a car. Today however, it's a train.
Just leaving Doncaster.
On a train. Not in a car. The car isn't ready until tomorrow. That's what the guy in the garage said. By noon at the latest. He's trustworthy right? I'm sure it will be ready. Sure. I won't be on a train tomorrow. No siree. I'll be in a car.
The lady just took my ticket.
I won't have to give anyone my ticket tomorrow. I'll be in a car. Not on a train. You don't need tickets in a car. You just drive it. Unless you like tickets. Then you could make tickets for your car and give yourself a ticket when you got in the car.
The trains horn just went off. It made me jump.
That wouldn't happen if I were in a car. I'd be in full control of the horn in a car.
I think I just found out why the horn sounded. A bunch of feathers just flew in through the window. RIP bird.
That might have happened if I were in a car. You can still **** birds in a car. But in a car I would have more of a sense of guilt. Being on a train isn't all bad I guess. Plus, if I were in a car and not, as is clearly the case, on a train, I wouldn't have been able to type out all my interesting anecdotal meandering as I chugged along.
That said, if you aren't enjoying reading all about this, might I suggest that you don't use Crown Motors?
My car is still there.
Not here.
I'm on a train.
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 4:56 PM UTC
You want to
Mend my heart;
With what? Staples?
It's more than
Ten sheets thick
I don't care
How industrial you go,
And I laugh
At your staple gun
And even your nail gun,
Put away the duct tape
It'll just slide right off,
Oh; I see,
You brought plenty
Of Krazy glue,
Are you kidding me?
You might as well
Use fly paper,
None of this will do,
No siree, Bob
You can't fix my heart
And you sure as hell
Can't build me a new one,
No one with a hardhat
Nor white coats or stethoscopes
Can undo what she broke,
Only she is the remedy
Only she is the cure,
And my local drugstore
Doesn't carry her
Not even in generic,
So as far as I can tell
I'm stuck with this malady
Most inconvenient tragedy...
APAD13 - 112 © okpoet
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
Tree ,oh heavenly shade .
what a peace i delight within thy shadow.
when my heart runs heavy with hollow .
when i dread in pain and feel sad .
under thee with thy boughs and branches .
you console me in peace and great is my reaches .
upon thy up turn root i set down and dream .
and for real all my world now seems .
tree what a beauty concealed in mighty .
tree what flowered fragrance and pretty .
rises mighty from and up over the ground .
you look heavenly decorum and ever so grand .
useful tree and serviceable natural gift .
house of holly and living worship of angel .
what a murmur of thee when i deem thee clam.
the praise of thy boughs are great charm .
where will i escape from the hellish agony .
if not a drip from thy refreshing and wholly .
with thee stand my shelter and i sink myself in peace.
what a strength from a tiny seed at its self ease .
tree is always nothing but three .
under thee is held much parleys .
mingled with mighty chorus duly .
of splendid birds in crimson hue at peace .
tree, great purveyor of the hole universe .
endless deemed praise of grace .
tree is always nothing but three.
peace maker of all broken sweet siree.
under thee they stand two sweet hearts .
in pain and all but also in waist .
the lyrics deem hard and also practically unheeded.
they struggle for love , they lured for lead .
the love reel and nothing but discord stands .
sudden collapse in lament but consequent wreck.
the love recital seems an old rotten chorus of trumpet.
therein thy breeze whirls but in sweet pace a bet .
never an end_ never an end _ at least not under my care .
you reach forth then thy cheerful fragrance ajar .
you out fine decorum of thy rich stature .
and set forward then a song in winning pleading allure .
through the young man and lady 's heart it settle in and dwell .
both their orbs shine in communal understanding so well .
their faces lighten ,their cheek flush , their heart call .
in unison for life and forever love in peace they fall .
a hug as tight and a kiss as tender as ever feels .
and from above thy boughs rain down is sweet withered .
washed them across and drop down as married flowered.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
It's a film a steamy English romance,
hero and heroine in black and white
(the steam of ancient train's smoke),
give each other a sly furtive glance
no prospect of rapid ***** or poke;
he removing from her eye a speck,
they part the gent risks a little peck
*** Not in this Empire, oh no siree
Viewer imagine but you may not see.
In a French flick au contraire oui oui
Oh ** ** monochrome mais tres blue
A subtitle or two then "how do you do?"
Hairy hunk grabs at the buxom *****
Tips her over a bed or maybe a bench
Bare-chest nuzzles the actress's *******
****** achieved as their gasping attests
Post-coitus Gauloisy kisses get shared,
Anglo-Gallic brief encounters compared.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
ok, things are getting better!!
got my ducks all waddling
in a row.
my tin solidiers standing
to attention in a line.
my cats all in pyjamas and spats...(gotta tell ya that one was a bit tricky).
also put mittens on those
curious kittens.
don't want them dying,
ya know.
the mutt, is busy looking for
nuts.
and i made the elephant
comfortable in this small room.
he is now, chatting with
the paper tiger,
over by the fireplace
my fish swimming happily
in their barrel.
and the bees,tending
busily to arthritic knees
so almost all is well...
but sheeesh!!!
my geese are running around pell-mell
and are likely to give
the mittened kittens
a fainting spell.
all that,
honking and flapping about
mother goose going to hell.
so....... now......
the ducks are wandering
tin soldiers, planning
a gruerilla wafare attack.
the cats now naked
****
how did they,
get out of those spats.
the mutt still looking
nothing, will stop that
fool dog, those nuts are,
looooong gone.
elephant is embarrassed,
the tiger squashed flat.
fish, floating, not swimming.
now food for the cat.
and the bees and their
knees are creating
stinging, verbal retorts.
....as for the geese
and the mittened
kittens....
they have, commandeered
the black forest torte
and are gulping it greedily
down.
so... it is certainly not me,
no siree,
who is in charge of this madhouse mind,
in this mindless town
of mine.
not me,
who wears the king's crown.
you will find me,
the fool......
down by the pool,
....sunbathing...
when all this weird ****
is going down..
**nothing to see here,
move along,
nothing to see....**
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
When I first told people, so many years ago,
That I could never get cold, no matter what,
I., myself, really, truly believed it.
It wasn’t a lie when it really was the truth.
No one thought that it was actually reality.
But it was my reality, not theirs.
They didn’t have to believe anything I said.
It was their issue, not mine.
Many people refused to believe what I’d
Told them so many years ago and then
Continued on to think was real
For so many more years to come my way
Eventually, the day came when,
I, too thought that. I may be wrong.
Sure, it could have gone a lot worse.
But it also could have gone much better.
The truly funny story comes here
So, see, I'm coming out of swim practice
And there's snow all around me
But I'm dressed for summer.
Coach Beth asks if I'm cold.
And of course I say that I'm not cold
In my flip-flops and camisole.
I really was quite content at that point.
It's unforgettable to everyone
How I would wear shorts
And tanks and sandals
In the dead of winter.
Only because I could.
There was no hidden motive.
No siree, there was nothing more;
I really just enjoyed being that way.
And then years later I ran out
It was the middle of the night
There was a huge wind chill
But I had known that before leaving
And my hair was sopping wet.
And I only could grab flip flops.
And I could not find a jacket to wear.
And I worried, because I was cold.
It happened once before
I was outside late at night
And goosebumps were everywhere
I looked and didn't want a coat.
So I think that I have into
This idea that everyone must get cold
Because all I had wanted to do
Was fit in, and that did something.
But I would not realize until just one
Year later from that date
That cold may sometimes be
More than a physical condition.
See, you can be cold because of
Something silly like the weather
Or you can be cold because of
A serious matter like relationships.
That's what I've learned in the
Wacky time I've spent on this planet.
I've learned that people are the ones
Who end up hurting you the most.
I had never really been wrong
And I still am not, in truth
I never am physically cold
But that isn't what it meant
So it took years to get there
To that weird conclusion of mine.
But now I know that a bad ending
Really can turn you stone cold.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
A Romeo he is; obsessed with love
He saw me and swore I was sent from above
How on earth do you tell such a sucker
No matter what he can't make you pucker
Used to playing house with the *****
He claims he's not seen my type before
Though his ways I all but adore
I'm too nice to cause a war
Who's next? Ah! The pompous knight
Noble and fair in all his might
Seeks my hand to the Lord Viking's head
No thank you, too gory for my stead
Then there's Sir Geeks-a-lot
With his eyes and nose buried always in book rot
Should he maybe win the lot
Think absolutely not
Is that a ghost lover from my last?
Coming back for a lot to cast?
No siree! I've run out of chances
And the heart hospital I'm sure of braces
Wait, here comes the mommy's boy
Hangs around her finger like a toy
I think I'll pass, I don't need a wand
That waves at mother's every demand
A soldier came to pitch his tent
Glorious and capturing in his form
Soldier came soldier went
Soldier I could not reform
I'm the one whose heart they stake for
But I've got more to lose
I'm torn between two, maybe more
No inkling whom to choose
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 11:33 AM UTC
take the hole world out of me and give me your unity .
cause its the only **** i get now for reality .
my love and my dear siree .never think but one thing; assiduity .
cause i can worship you for eternity
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
She sat upon her rocking chair
That had a good view of the
Coming and goings of life just outside her porch
She smiled as she remembered
Meeting and greeting people
Over the years ahh yes.....
She remembered her own
Grandfather sitting in this very chair rocking back and forth
And telling her storys
Of his childhood....she smiled
She could hear his voice
As he told her of how back in his day they had to work the land...they had none of these fandangled machines...no siree
She smiled
She remembered the day she brought her boo to met her father for the very first time he had looked at him sternly and asked with that soft spoken voice of his....so what are your intention young man...she smiled
She remembered presenting to both her mother and father her small bundle of joy and the pure joy as they held him for the first time the glow on their faces....words could not discribe...she smiled
She remembered so much that happened on this very porch
She smiled the wind blew softly as she rocked for the last time
And that's how they found her...rocking still in her chair
As she smiled
By Kaila George
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 8:24 AM UTC
who can hold the wind in his fist?
~for Ken Pepiton~
your poems full of hints and innuendo,
most of them I don’t get, of stuff, I don’t know, no clue,
my education impoverished, which is why lucky me,
I’m getting my viral signed check for 1200 bucks,
yes siree
but some college educated sharp eyed feller,
said look, see how Ken keen, has the bestus, the real tuff stuff,
hidey holed in the footnotes purposed for you to miss it,
**** he was right, cause I found what you hided!
<>
who can hold the wind in his fist?
*an inquisition worthy of a thousand answers,
my Roman slave cautions forbearance, whispering in
my one remaining unconquered Gauguin ear, just the best,
these time of times, hanging heavy, be sweet, leave out the chaff
*I, cannot *hold the wind in my fist,
for it has always befriended, going
over my life-coarsened skin,
through my-stubbled fingers,
cooling and christening, constant teasing kissing
as it was born anew, a first time poem,
it was meant to be unkept and unkempt*
*you might want to hold on, keep it, for its touch is indeed
that of a first time lady loved, savoring the cool,
and the heat simultaneous, no fool us, empowering,
the wind forever runs freely, between, never sticking,
going around my body, into my open orifices,
sometimes caressing, sometimes troubling,
its power leaving us atrembling, moved, straighter or bent over*
those who created wind and water had many reasons,
but their first purpose was to constant enliven the human mind
with the softest message that true freedom is never bounded,
nature’s song is refrained, “man, be unrestrained,”
it’s majesty then greatest,
men may fool themselves with lines and divisions,
Earth’s best best seen in its unconstrained, searching character
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 10:30 AM UTC
“Countable nouns can be counted, e.g. an apple, two apples, three apples, etc. Uncountable nouns cannot be counted, e.g. air, rice, water, etc. When you learn a new noun, you should check if it is countable or uncountable and note how it is used in a sentence.”
“countable nouns” goes ding ding in the left-side-brain receptors,
where the write side is humbly aboded, unbounded, and well-recv’d,
countable nouns not simplistic apples, the mundane, not sweet, crisp,
important stuff like sins and dreams, lies and schemes: life alterations!
a single sin, two sins, then three, soon you’re another noun, a sinner,
a dream, two dreams, three, teach labels you a serial day-dreamer,
it takes just one little lie, be well on your way to a pants-on-fire-liar,
a get-rich-quick-scheme forms a life long persona, dastard schemer!
methinks these self-adjectives deserve a special denomination, for my
sins, lies, dreams and schemes are uncountable countable nouns!
they are a class of biological, taxonomic things, living and breathing,
a singular genus, many species, like slime molds of human characteristics
you don’t believe I’m a scoundrel, here is not the place to list,
each action/no action curse-courses animating suppressed brain cells,
when the lids close, the enumeration of sins & deeds, all sheep,
vivid colored, injured pointed hooves, silent screamed reslaughtered,
confession offers no solace, until someday the sticking point of the right brain actually resolve the misdeeds, undoing stabbings, healing
time to quit the confessional, no beads or Hail Marys will ever suffice, elides the wrong religion and mine done don’t lets you off so easy,
no siree…no siree…
even a few miscreant visions, originate from childhood indifferent…
perhaps you tire of my self-flagellate:
**these deeds, actions, some remediable, but not all, and these 50 years on, my palpitations fiercest knowing, that they are now
uncountable countable nouns!**
Apr 7, 2023
Apr 7, 2023 at 10:29 AM UTC
I have *** on Sunday mornings
Tuesdays too
Well, any day I can to be honest
It’s just something I like to do
I don’t nip behind closed doors
Wrap curtains or silk sheets tight
I don’t need scented candles, whipped cream or Barry White
No-siree
I make love in wide open spaces
Without a whit of shame (We don’t own ****** veils or wear a family name)
No-siree
We’re too blissed out for who-called-who
Doped up on the intoxicating hue of shiny morning dew
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 7:44 PM UTC
Shower beer
shower beer
my kingdom for
a shower beer
My kingdom is
a shower and a bed
yup
just a shower and a bed
in this
podunkshitholenowhere
********* town
But I'm suds'n up
while suds'n down
making my frown
turn
up
Up
UP-side down
Nothing better
nothing aside
from her
peachy little mound
nothing better in this
fuckedupdownandoutdingy
********* Desert town
Never astray
have I been steered
nope
not by a shower beer
no indeed
no tears have I shed
no siree
no life have I bled
no not me
no ill will have I ever bred
no
not on account
of
a shower beer
Oct 17, 2020
Oct 17, 2020 at 11:50 AM UTC
cheating life
*when that day comes, officially,
maybe, anyway, someday here,
yo! made it through the pandemic,
y’all backslap and affirmatively robust
announce: dude! you cheated death!
maybe I’ll smile, maybe cry, maybe, nah, surely
both, cause we now be practiced in arts of survival,
I’ll reply the real trick is not to cheat death,
that don’t require much, just careful preparation
my file still not closed, and will be unsealed,
seen both what was done to me, what I did,
on my own, insufficient smiling, inadequate crying,
everyones imbalance cain forehead-charted
so when you examine your empire on your face,
think not you cheated death, you’re a stud,
no siree, think about how you cheated, cheated
yourself out of life, with insufficient risk taking
don’t be stupid, don’t mean going out w/o a mask,
ignoring social distancing. that’s just common sense,
what I’m talking ‘bout, taking that chance, falling
in love, and doing it again and again, before you*
cheat yourself out of life...
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 9:59 AM UTC