Last Commented Work Poems (218)

My heart is sad
so melancholy,
once again my
foolish folly.
I know that 1
does not make 2,
I wish there was
a me and you.
A cuddle and
my lips to kiss,
oh well I guess
I won't be missed.

the rig sails on
the captain at the wheel
steel billowed crosswinds
and Willie's gruff twang

come back...maybe not flip-flop
rigs riggin' is sailin', movin'
waving goodbye to yesterday
I'm a stowaway into today

ahead is clear horizon
aft is crewed distant past
the ropes taut, creaking
and diseal's low rumble below

port is where we're headed
starboard is starry shafts
stern relentlessly unappeasable
riding the waves bowed

someday I'll tighten up
swigging the anchor line
laying roots off of route one
but at present, rig's tackin'

we're decked out directly
hauling freight, liners for
what in life we're lackin'
so, harden up to the wind

crestin' hill, descendin' trough
this rollercoaster ride of life
keeps sailin' on to skyline
just the mate 'n' the captain

© agoodguy2have 2011-05-20

Seven hundred miles drove all night
4am can't see the stars covered by clouds
6am must be their with two hours to spare
lay down close my eyes, knock on my door
hear a voice
driver open your doors
slide your tandems
take dock 76
lay back down close my eyes
knock on my door hear a voice
driver your wanted inside
you got a mess spilt your load
re-stack it sweep the glass
smell of pickles filled the air
five hours later twenty six broken jars
fifty two cases smashed

Now I'm in a pickle
no sleep weary eyes
was cruisen down a highway at 65
traffic slowed came to a stop
everybody's going home
I have 700 miles to drive
3 hours in traffic put me behind
can't take a break
must be their at 6am or get a fine
traffic is moving breaking free
takes a while get to 65

It's a beautiful day I should be okay
out of nowhere car changes lanes
cuts in front of me
hits their brakes
for an exit they must take
I can't stop with 40 tons
look in mirrors the coast is clear
swerve my truck to miss his butt
with that load of pickles

don't cut us off give us room
now it's 11am waiting for a new load
with no sleep and weary eyes.

There is no better feeling
That will send you reeling
Than a womans natural laughter

To catch her unaware
An entice her to share
Warms your heart then an after

As you look into those eyes
There seems to be surprise
That you've bought about some joy

For the reaction that it brings
Obviously plucked heart strings
As she realises its no ploy

Just a natural rendevous
On opposites sides of the queue
While waiting for an answer

Its a lovely sight to see
A stranger for you to be
Sharing with grace like a ballet dancer

When the black sky turns a brilliant blue
Reflecting on old glass in my windows
Set before the golden sunrise hues
Hear the rising notes of barnyard swallows
When the fresh smell of wet spring dew
Sweetens in the morning meadows
See how all the flowers bloom anew
Around my home in a mountain hollow
Know my deepest thoughts drift to you
And to our weekend dance that follows
After all the hard week in fields ensues
That starts where the hedgerow’s narrow
It’s such a prize living a hill farm virtue
Pulling stones from soil so shallow
But there’s none finer a place with a view
Smoothing good earth with my trusty harrow

don't stop light it up
here's a miracle cure
no hell no spells
no withdrawls guaranteed
millions of people are cured
you'll quit like millions of people did
smoke it up
black coat your lungs
smoke in your veins
don't worry cough it up
just tar in your heart
replace it don't be afraid
smoke four packs a day
you'll quit like millions of people did
now you got cancer but don't worry
we got a miracle cure
light it up
coat your lungs
smoke in your veins
tar in your heart
now your on your last breath
get some paper
crinkle it up
light it up one more time
now your eyes are closed one last time
air escapes your body
arm falls in that crinkled paper
that lit cigerette
burning paper
ashes you turn
see you quit and cancer free
like millions of people did
it's the miracle cure

I have a phone
I wanted a comb
I'm in a rush
just wanted too brush
I am late
my foot off the brake
blowing the horn
waving a finger
I need to chill
but i'm having a thrill
looked at the clock
damn I grabed the wrong socks
get to work the doors are locked
must not be late damn just realized
it's sunday morning.

Everyday I drag my feet
For a job I no longer like
Stressing, boring and thankless.
My boss is a rude, miserable man.
The staff are set to robotic mode

I'm different and feel I don't fit
Someone take me away from this awful place
Take me to where nature is full
Where my heart can beat normally
Where I can smile truly - not this fake rubbish I do
WHere I can find serenity in a day - I wanna be me.

The temper of the sea controls his life
His relationship with it is just like a wife
It nurtures an soothes when it needs to be
Or angry an wild to descend on thee

Early he rises before the dawn
To confirm his fate before the morn
The stars are out,the wind is low
He's well prepared its time to go

He eases his boat into the black tea
The ripples reflect the calm of thee
The engines they start with accepted ease
His jacket on so not to freeze

His light bounces off beacons to see
His mind is set in the direction to be
He sets his dash to operation mode
An skippers his boat along the wet road

Using the channel as his watery path
The ocean an swells he meets at last
Splinters of orange pierce the sky
For beyond the horizon the sun does lie

He charts his coarse to hunting ground
As the sun emerges from its worldly round
A smile appears on his face
This is the wife that wears the lace

He spends all day chasing his catch
The ultimate aim to fill his hatch
The suns intensity always rising
Utmost respect is not surprising

Tides they move an winds they change
All apart of the fishermans game
Its time to head in an prepare his catch
Ready himself for the next batch

Although his journey is mostly the same
His love for the ocean is no pain
The individual beauty that he sees everyday
Illuminates his life in every possible way

As the painter put paint on the canvas with the brush.
The picture that is painted is a beautful sunset.
With a Pencil in hand I put my words to paper.
My words can paint thier own picture.
I write what I see from my heart.
That is how I preceive the world around me.
I'm an artist inmy own way, not like the painter.
Only I paint with words that have feelings.
The feelings of love, joy, sadness.
What gives me the most joy is when my words paint a picture of you.