"tike" poems
Yes Spring has come to the land,
Mother Nature has shed her coat,
time to get off the couch and do what matters most. Live and have fun!
So I am out catching up on the chores and second duty, granddaughter watch,
prune here, rake there, now where has that little tike gone?
Perhapes if I give these little hands something to occupy,
why the best thing is a little water, yes that will bring a smile.
So here is the battle ground as the scene unfolds.
She has a little pail, I have the garden hose.
Her duty, quite simple,place some water on the plants,
end result however, water on PawPaw's pants!
So only to even the score, mind you no harm intended,
was to give the little tike a squirt and the battle would have ended.
Oh no, not today! This little tink has got some guts!
Why with every squirt I give that girl, I get a pail of slosh!
So of course, being the elder here and quite mature I say,
I give that girl her monies worth and let out a real good spray!
Soon the chores are all forgotten and the plants need water no more,
end of the day I can say she may have even tied the score!
Wow how much water do these pampers hold?!
Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 7:28 PM UTC
Children ask the most funny things
and you better give the answer a think,
you're sure to hear it more then twice.
Said yes there were plenty of times
when being scared was on the line,
I can recall a time or two.
There was the time ,way back before you,
I was scared of my old, dark room
but I had to learn to sleep there by myself.
The time your Aunt Jo fell out of that tree,
I was so scared I got down on my knees,
asked the Good Lord to help her heal.
The time I was sent to do somethings
the good folks here did'nt know where I went,
till they all read about it and saw it on the news.
Course I was scared when I Asked your MawMaw
for her hand,
did'nt know if she would take a man
like your PawPaw was back then.
Remember how my hands all shook,
the day they brought your Mama in the room,
so tiny and full of lifes demands.
Yes, Little Tink, I've been scared a time or two.
I was beyond scared when you came along,
it had been all so long,
since we had a little tike like you in the house.
So I guess when I talk to to you of being scared,
well, PawPaw knows what he's talking about.
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 5:20 PM UTC
Only those who have used an outhouse would appreciate this.
The Outhouse Poem by unknown author
The service station trade was slow
The owner sat around,
With sharpened knife and cedar stick
Piled shavings on the ground.
No modern facilities had they,
The log across the rill
Led to a shack, marked His and Hers
That sat against the hill.
"Where is the ladies restroom, Sir ?"
The owner leaning back,
Said not a word but whittled on,
And nodded toward the shack.
With quickened step she entered there
But only stayed a minute,
Until she screamed, just like a snake
Or spider might be in it.
With startled look and beet red face
She bounded through the door,
And headed quickly for the car
Just like three gals before.
She missed the foot log - jumped the stream
The owner gave a shout,
As her silk stockings, down at her knees
Caught on a sassafras sprout.
She tripped and fell - got up, and then
In obvious disgust,
Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
And faded in the dust.
Of course we all desired to know
What made the gals all do
The things they did, and then we found
The whittling owner knew.
A speaking system he'd devised
To make the thing complete,
He tied a speaker on the wall
Beneath the toilet seat.
He'd wait until the gals got set
And then the devilish tike,
Would stop his whittling long enough,
To speak into the mike.
And as she sat, a voice below
Struck terror, fright and fear,
"Will you please use the other hole,
We're painting under here !"
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 3:04 PM UTC
Plunk your Magic Twanger
years ago when I was a tike
back when I could barely even ride my bike
there was this silly show I loved and had to see
on Saturday mornings just for kids
they showed short films and had funny skits
so weird it seemed they were just talking to me
films about this kid they called the Jungle Boy
he rode on an elephant and brought me great joy
always tracking down men doing evil things
then there was always this special guest
a doctor, a scientist, someone who impressed
who would try to demo and explain
their special skills but is was to no avail
along came the gremlin with water spritzer and pail
and on the poor speaker he would make it rain
he was called Froggy the Gremlin a puppet at best
he'd dance like a clown and stick out his chest
and he was always introduced with this silly chant
plunk your magic twanger froggy, oh my dear
and boing in a puff of smoke he would appear
and bedlam would ensue he'd go off in a rant
Hiya kids, Hiya, he'd always say as he danced
on the edge of my seat, I was so entranced
what kind of stunt would he now try to pull
squirt the guest with his seltzer bottle he was so bad
the guest would run away, run away so wet and mad
the gremlin always kept his bottle full
zany comedy, mindless laughter every week
couldn't wait to see who would be the next weeks geek
so innocent then so full of vigor and vim
there is another part to this story someday I will tell
later on in high school before the first morning's bell
Froggy is still alive, no cant forget him
Gomer LePoet...
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 7:41 AM UTC
Palm trees sway in the breeze as waves crash on the beach. The sun sets low over the horizon as the boat gently rocks just off of the shore. Paradise to some an escape to others. Cabanas are decked with blinking lights as people dance to the sound of the steel drum and the Mandolin. Coconut drinks are mixed with local spirits to bring good cheer. Dark and White *** are the mixers of choice as fish bake on open coals and ***** boil in a *** Gifts are exchanged by the light of Tike torches and bon fires. The moon rises over the ocean and a starry sky is beset like jewels in the night. All is at peace with a tropical Christmas .
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
Lucifer just said I'm two-faced;
But the reality is I wear many faces
Each one a mask
Picking a bouquet of oopsie-daises
Unabashedly lashing out at you
I eviscerate; wielding a scalpel
Then I pounce; scalped him,
Pelt dangling from my ***** pack
**Went Kerouac on ***** ***
Surprise, surprise
Palpable attack
Thumbing tacks into your eyes
Lame as a bad sitcom
Band-wagon careening off the laugh-track
Everybody loves disarray
**** Vamoose!
Underlying interloper
Feel the allusion in high resolution;
Little tike on the *****
Anne frankly I'm that Führer fomenting furor
Have you lost your marbles?
Inaudibly garbling warbled garbage
Mauled to death
**I **** narwhals**
Convoluted revolution
I revel in it
Elusive illusion
Testify, I bring the excellence in electrocution
I'm the executioner
Putting the fun in funeral
Like a neurotic necrotizing narcotic
A lobotomy to the temporal
I dreamt the demented torment of descent
Cascading like a torrential waterfall
Ghoulish delight
Primeval upheavaler
With hopes to elope, many fold
Mic bold, but I suspect she's hitting the slopes;
Ice cold
Evoking emotion but a hopeless show
marionette in a stranglehold
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
little tike,
kite thread,
strung out
pulling hands, body, fear
into sky, clouds, air,
beyond
chicken skin chill
wind shiver cold
fear
stop! mama! scream
little older now,
kites, dreams, birds, feathers
flights, mountain crags
song, soar
mama, now, screams
rolling, plywood floor
no kite, big hand man
grab, spit, roar
tears heave breath
face, mama hands
cry, side, no more
said to floor
metal fireplace
hot, don't touch,
arrow poke fire,
heavy hurt stick
**** big hand man
make mama scream
stop thumping body
slap, flesh, red burn
heavy arrow stick
fall down, thump
face, floor
big hand man
take, this or that
hot scrap belly
bone, angry kite
throw living-room
bed, heavy hands
burn bones, dreams
eyes
morning light
mama scoops
legs, arms, teddy
"we're getting out alright"
subject matter partially stolen from http://hellopoetry.com/-peachy/
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC
Trayton Marvin this
Trayon Martian that
All this talk but don't know Jack
little punk got pluncked
When he stood his ground
Lil heathen went out
With a ground pound
And what?
A mexicant have a Jew name?
Your stories are lame
And all the same
Television drones
Fat and tamed
Little tike knew enough
That when you buff up
And play rough
You can get plucked
For the littlest stuff
Like showing what your made of
Even when it's made up
Even when a fake ****
Even when snuggled up
In the tug of a green heart
Plugged from the rugged start
Just another stupid kid
All skittles and ********
Lying dead
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
The Lord keeps me quickened
With His burnin wine blood.
Sinner gets Word he's sickened
'Cause their fate is the flood.
Wickin your idols like wicker
This Word that protrude is sure ta
Make knots out of your nickers.
While I heard you is a rude *****
No flippin bird. I'm a Jigga,
One of them scotch sippin Jewish ******
Switch the first lettas in Jew and *****
What you get is New, Jigga
Go figure
Yourself out, and what you're about.
No need to tout your ego and shout.
Like go ahead call me a ****
I can't hear ya when your talk is trite;
Words don't cause me tantrums tike.
Little one the end has just begun.
Put down your gun, since before the beginning His Son has already won, before you were even sinning;
In a sense, innocense.
His Immaculate timing is waiting for the start of your pitiful whining
For mercy from the Lord you still curse G.
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Oh look how sweet he is
oh what a little Cute
he's playing with his toy cars
wheels running over all those ants
We best not disturb him
the naughty little tike
oh look he's leaving his cars
he's going to finish them off with his bike
Never seen him in killing fields
but yet I think he belongs there
our little psychopath
our little boy with his toys
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 11:44 AM UTC
You are such a fearless thing
in your twenties now and still alive
when I got that bike seat for you and me
to travel around on the back for all to see
Man I peddled fast on busy streets
with you cooing on the back seat
you loved the speed
so fearless indeed
Then that day that we were on our way
for your mothers to mine
down that steep hill with all the ramps
of many gradients unkind
We hit that rather big speed bump
and with an unnatural clunk
I knew something was amiss
I stopped, got off, goodness the seat was junk
There you were learning over
one of the supports were broken and gone
yet you smiled at me, my non plus tike
my sweet baby on my bike
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
there is a whole bunch of steps,
maybe more than you can handle,
but you can't stop climbing
because That's The Way It Is.
the first floor is labeled BIRTH.
it's covered with sweet smelling blood,
you roll in the blood until you've ****** enough nourishment from your mother, then you begin to stumble.
the second floor is labeled TIKE
and this floor is fun.
the walls are covered in bicycles and scabs, grass stains and ketchup, and you don't tire of climbing the stairs this floor holds.
the third floor is called MIDDLE SCHOOL and you experience anxiety for the first time. climbing the stairs begins to feel like a chore but at the end of each flight you are rewarded with letter grades and a feel or two up a skirt.
the fourth floor is called HIGH SCHOOL and it smells like beer and vaginal excrement and you spend half your time crying and the other half doing homework and yet you somehow manage to remain Hopeful.
the fifth staircase us called GAP YEAR and it's reminiscent of the second flight of stairs except now you have Privelage to go along with your Responsibility. These stairs smell like your favorite lake and magic mushrooms and Monty Python. They feel fulfilling yet wasteful, encompassing yet misdirecting.
attentive reader, I just signed up for college 600 miles away from home, I know the next staircase is called College and it smells like beer, but I know nothing else. Wish me luck, please, I think I'll need it.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC
*Come little tike,
I'll make you a man,
You're heart burns bright,
In this world so black,
The moon is full tonight,
Wearing its mask,
I'll show you its dark side,
Grab my hand,
There are things in this place,
You wouldn't believe,
Unkown to your race,
Secrets we keep,
We must make haste,
No time for sleep,
Walk in my grace,
I'll make you see,
You will know,
Your true reflection,
you will know,
how hot hell is,
The inferno,
The grand deception,
Black crows,
The angelic,
Come with me,
And keep real close,
I'll set you free,
I'll help you know,
It's truth you seek,
It's what you'll hold,
It's what you'll speak,
And you're who it chose-
HED TRAMA™*
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 5:18 AM UTC
Happiness is a yellow bike
Ridden by the small, smiling tike
Happiness is the best of taste
Unlike rotten fruit or swallowed toothpaste
Happiness is the sport you play
That you perfect and work at all adapt
Happiness is my smile in a hearty home
Where I intend to finish this poem
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
I would rather not have frowned at the frau
She was my friend
Slatternly, frowzy, bedgraddled gal
I always wondered how and why she liked me
Like a boy who could be psyched out by bosoms.
I wasn't
I felt it peasant like.
Like a tike feeling in the dirt for flukes and rakes
Rake, she said she thought what I was.
Which would mean I could make her heart buzz
and would mean we could be one another.
Another life left to lonesome fevers in panting fogs.
I matter, so does she.
Dark matter.
Slathered in holes, stolen goals.
God we were the same.
It's a shame we were the same.
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 1:49 AM UTC
It was one thing
To see the back of your head
When I was toddling around
As a wee young tike
Because my little legs couldn't keep up
But now I'm older
And I still watch the back of your head
Because you don't care to talk to me
You're a man on a mission
And I'm quiet enough
I'm certain you would almost forget I existed
Despite the fact that I'm your own daughter
How long would it take you
To notice I was gone,
if I tripped and fell
But couldn't cry out
Would you look back,
Or would you carry on?
I've learned to hate the back of your head
With that tuft of hair leading
To the bald spot in the center
Leading the way
Like a man should
But a man
Is supposed to protect his little girl
And care to know she's okay.
But you don't,
So I walk behind silently...
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
Salvation Army who helps people who think they are alone
Representatives with intervention who let it be known
It’s the season to give
A time to open one’s heart
It’s the holiday cheer in making its mark
Turning winter into warmth
Turning cold into shelter of behold
Serving hot food to homeless and watch as it unfolds
Holiday spirit put into homeless cheer
Never be alone nor have fear
The star of Bethlehem in the trademark in helping homeless preserver
Putting clean clothes on the homeless from previous
A time for all to be rejoice
A moment to share in what we have
A tike to reflect and be thankful
It doesn’t matter if you are young or old
It is a matter of sustaining life and take hold
It’s have determination and be bold
It’s about giving and sharing
The mission is about caring
The Salvation Army having a mission of their own
As the snow falls and holiday songs being the call
Joy to the world and Peace on Earth
The Salvation Army being hope, and enriching Homeless with a new everlasting and encouraging birth.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC
And on the bough of grate arrest
Sat a lady with toweled unrest
And with it a notebook
Black as soot
Parched and swollen
Stomped, a black boot
And through the Pandemic she wrote and she wrote
About fears of her body being crushed by the throat
With it came sorrows when her family was good
Surrounded by friends online and much food
Surrounded by parents by brother the like
Still she felt trapped
Still she sought light
In a dungeon of her own making
Born of sweat, slime, and drink
Harrowed and shaking
Ghastly to think
That this isn’t the end
Nay, only beginning
Stuck in her bedroom like a warped castle hanging
Velvet ropes shuttered her eye
And garden troves shuttered her thigh
And brains pumped by news
All of the time, er, all of the time
So she shut out the world
As impeachment enclosed
Across the country
Dead justice rose
Not zombies nor corpses not copses the like
Send her the script of a worn phantom tike
She once was a child, now she airs thirty
In ere few years, will she be worthy
Of the spite and malice
Of the spit and chalice
Of the whirlwind that adulthood becomes,
Leering its awful tight grin
Pale teeth embedded into her skin
She wishes, oh she wishes she ere a child again!
How many a time now has she dreamed of escaping
Lockdown, social distancing, shelter in place, resisting
Once a grand circus, now deserted incased
Once crisis inverted, now heavens did race
The lady waited
The lady prayed
The lady wished, and hoped and brayed
The Albatross which was wrapped round her neck
Not by rope but by feathers
So weary and pecked
The actual bird wrapped its corpse round her throat
But she slayed it, sliced the dead bird clean off!
And let it sink into the dirt and decompose to rot
There goes the rhyme
Blessed and recoiled
Well in her prime
She feels so old, so boiled
But the Albatross
A great wanton flight
Unusual, still
That mates for life
And carries no strife
Still, she swung in the knife
And released its rolling sore
Now it burdens her no more
And then the lady mariner saw the light!
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 9:35 PM UTC