Tommie poems on Hello Poetry

Lawrence Hall Jan 2022

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Rod McKuen at a Garage Sale

We don’t know who Baby ****** and Tommie were
They sent each other notes and underlines
And colored slips of paper from page to page
In Someone’s Shadow (“Hardbacks 25 Cents”)

The exuberance of adolescent arcs
Reminds us of our long-ago callow youth
When we thought we had discovered something
In secretly sharing free verse in home room

And we had – indulging in forbidden lines
Is still good therapy for being sixteen

A poem is itself.

#rodmckuen #garagesale #sixteen

BungeeGum Oct 2018

BHM Vol 1 : Unbound

Chains unbound , Shackles broken , Voices unheard finally
spoken.....

A raised fist to empower a community , to show strength , defiance , resistance and unity.... John Carlos & Tommie Smith

A man who had a dream , so big it endures til this very day , so big , it can't be cast cast away.... Martin Luther King

A lady who sat in front of the bus , thinking , why seating there was such a fuss , confident and brave.... Rosa Parks

A man loved by an African nation , capturing all with with his own brand of Afrobeat music creation.... Fela Kuti

A lady tending to the sick and wounded , bruised and battered , though a ghastly sight , ensuring their well-being , to her ... was all that mattered....Mary Seacole

Throughout history and even now , many have shown....

B-   Brilliance and Bravery
L-   Liveliness
A-  Ambition
C - Courage , Confidence and Creativity
K - Knowledge

Been on hiatus for a bit , decided to share the poems that I wrote for My universities ACS - Black History Month event
Hope you enjoy...
P.S : ACS- Afro Caribbean Society

matthew scott harris Aug 2018

My on call (Uncle) Muse Never Sleeps

(aunt that title niece – ???
in this context pronounced nice)

Well...hm...I really did not wanna
     let the cat out of the bag,
     and souffle, parfeit, forfeit, et cetera face
     book (waving) applause,
no...no...no...,not
     so mooch the fear of a
     dramatic plummet in popularity
     boot rather because

grabbing a tiger by the tail,
     where sharp razor like claws
will disable me to write
     any deplorable contrite ****** clause,
(certainly comes across as more
     dramatic and draws
immediate attention
     versus describing carefully

     reaching into a sack dangling
     feline treat in hand), where faux pas...
hens, this chap did not
     wanna play chicken,
     thus generally he opts
     tabby Tommie (chivalrously ****
sure gunning and figuratively
     ****** hill whipping sluggishly)

     if need be resorting
     to being the dock
tour Frankenstein of hyperbole creating
     an outrageously monstrously
     "FAKE" er...ad hoc
and let the poetic shenanigans rip
     riding on Lone Ranger as ****
key guiding a pretend winged Pegasus

     shouting "Hi-**, Silver" until...lock
jaw sets in forcing me to transition
     into emulation mock
apple pie de core'm
     imaginatively strutting pompously
     with fanfare and a shock
absorber of motley crue depeche mode
     with vanilla ice...SCREAM,

     (oh my dog)
     a HUMUNGOUS MOLTEN rock
iz gonna knock me
     upside the head
     (as if any body would notice)
      any difference in ma schlock
key, schmaltzy, and
     scholarly (ha) zany appeal

(yeah..yeah...yeah...
     wishful thinking) doth congeal
well...essentially aye may feel
absolutely awful (methinks I contracted
     gnome mo' money
     knee feverish blues)
actually, ah haint goot any
     handy dandy spongebob

     squarepants squidward clues
how ma zanily uncanny,
     and quirky brain flues
spew out such...
     gibberish, which attempts
     to be ja panned off as
     highly lauded literary endeavor
twitchy versatile rhyme

     without a reason open
     to interpretations, sans
     many words for snow or igloos
Eskimos own (well...mebbe not of late,
     what with global warming),

     ah cold old news
as opposed to deciphering
     these enigmatic wordy rues
a signature trademark of
      my swiftly styled
     harried tailored alphabetic schmooze!

e l l Apr 2019

my cat

i love you, kitty,
you’re truly my best friend.
you’re getting old,
your time’s coming to its end.
you’re getting weaker, and you’re getting sicker.
your coat’s still soft, though it was once much thicker.
i will miss looking into your green eyes.
i will miss holding you while i cry.
you’ve been there for me, and through it all.
i remember when i got you, in 2009’s warm fall.
you were so beautiful then, the color of pale wheat.
you’re still beautiful now, moseying down the street.
your golden fur shines in the sun.
i’ll never forget all our days of laughs and fun.
your memory will never leave me, you’ll always be by my side.
you’re such a good boy, that cannot he denied.
so in your last years, i’ll treat you extra good.
i’ll give you lots of snacks and pets, just like i should.
i love you, Tommie.

nick armbrister Nov 2018

One Hundred Years

One Hundred Years
The war to end all wars ended exactly one hundred years ago
That war failed in its objective of making war and bloodletting obsolete
Just like the bow and arrow is now outdated war was meant to be
The renderings of battle and conflict consigned to the history books
When children ask their parents: WHAT WAS WAR?

The answer should have started thus: Well child...
But that scenario never happened because war is still with us
The old soldiers never grew old and their memory lives on
As their great grandchildren prime their guns and prepare for battle
Places like the Somme, Ypres, Verdun. Paschendale and Flanders are here

Inside the souls of the Tommie, the Poilu, the *** and more
Poppies commemorating the sacrifice and everlasting memory
Worn with pride by people like myself and my kin and my friends and family
Yet in places like Afghan and Syria and Iraq and Ukraine men fight and die
Death and destruction still rule the battlefield by blast and bullet

Weapons have advanced like smart bombs, jet fighters and missiles
Being a millennia on from biplanes, barbed wire and horses
Each soldier and each fight is mirrored thru history by another
Wars and battles complement one another in their ferocity and aim
Enemies must be defeated and military objectives achieved

Only the year and location changes while the soldier’s names fade away
To become unknown soldiers in our collective hearts and minds
Passing over before their time and entering the history books
Some are a footnote, others in heroic battles and a few forsaken
Every generation since the Great War owes it to the past to make peace

And keep hold of that peace forever more and spike the guns and grenades
So our world knows peace and harmony in an eternal Peace Dividend
The Military Industrial Complex being used for something better
Future warriors being out of work and doing new jobs
Think of the past and that awful Great War and what we can do now

Turn our world around and remember the sacrifice and cost of Total industrial war
Let no more warriors die in no more wars except in books, games and films
Remember our great fallen warriors and be humbly grateful and act their deed
Universally advancing world peace and making war obsolete forever

#war #peace #remember

nick armbrister Feb 2018

Hidden

Hidden
Call me The Baron. My full name is Nicholas Arthur Armbrister. I ****** hate that name! Do you know how I feel? My first name used when I’m naughty. “Nicholas, you’ve had a new tattoo!”

You must be part German with a name like that. Say it slowly out loud:

A-R-M-B-R-I-S-T-E-R.

They got images of ******’s panzers and Blitzkreig, Stukas and goose steps. No denying my heritage, I’m part German, on my dad’s side. Armbrister.

He was in the British Army in World War 2, a Tommie. None of his mates guessed he was part German. Doing his bit for King and Country. His name is Arthur. The middle name I don’t tell anyone. Even today, I’m unsure why? Makes me eccentric – Nicholas Arthur Atmbrister – The Baron!

My dad is my best mate. His stories of seeing Manchester in flames, December 1940, when he was in his dad’s car going from Ashton to Oldham, fascinated me. When he was conscripted, I knew he was no German. He saw his army mates die and became a man. How can I compare? Arthur, the name I never use. Known only to me and my family.

Some things are hidden, for hidden reasons. Others are an open book, for me to decide. What would you think if I told you my middle name is Arthur? After my dad. He saw **** bombers high over Coppice. A silver speck against the blue. Our gunfire missed by miles. If these same planes had bombed my dad, I’d never be born or called Arthur.

He told me how he collected warm bomb shrapnel, when the Germans did bomb. Memories of an old man, passed down to me. When I’m in Manchester tonight with her, I’ll think, What is it like to see a city burn at night while under enemy air attack?

#family #me #history

portillo Nov 2020

White Shoes

St Stephan was my friend
Stayed with me till the end
Walked for hours in the snow
Because we had no where to go
Came to me in a dream
he said forget about fascist
And start killing machines

He follows everywhere I go
He shows me things
No man should know
He brought some ****
And let her tweak
Hadn't been asleep in half a week
She missed the vein
Everywhere the blood goes
But you can't change what you can't change
Just let it go
And fortify your soul
What is done is done
What you can't take back
Catherine Wheel sugar shack
In a night that never goes black
Orrt Cloud raining ice down
And Jesus Christ was a clown
If you ride the Titanic
You might drown
Odds are body never found
Tell me what happens after that
And I swear I'll stop smoking crack
Tommie Thunder comes to town
When all the girls aren't around
You could take a taste of it
But it hurts your belly and makes you ****
I try to explain the sound
Of the undead rising underground
Uncle Joe says he'll do right
Try to make it so the races don't need to fight
If you could choose between rebirth or afterlife
Would you take the knife?
Stumbling around like Barney Fife?

— The End —