Last Commented Work Poems (218)

It’s too bad about Harry
We knew it couldn’t last
He drove it way too fast
Gave it too much gas
He called it his own cherry
And rode it like a mule
Until he blew his cool
And played it like a fool
Now everyday we have to face the music
‘Cause every night we hear the same old song
We’re rockin’ in at sundown
And rolling out at dawn
It’s too bad about Harry
But the show must go on.

***

It’s too bad about Harry
But maybe for the best
‘Cause everybody guessed
He couldn’t pass the test
It’s quite a load to carry
It really takes a crew
For all that we’ve been through
We’re gonna miss him, too
But easy come and easy go is the way of things
Those who remain are who belong
He drove it like he stole it
But he’s gone, gone, gone
It’s too bad about Harry
But the show must go on.

the digital pickpocket, digits in hand
will steal your bits, one at a time
cunning and sly, in a manner offhand
more subtle than mere common crime

brush with you in that bustling crowd
the beautiful camouflage of my web
Artfully, my intents so skillfully i shroud
opportunity, like water does flow and ebb

i wait at the end of silken line woven
with scarcely a move of perceptible note
for the mark of you, so carefully chosen
but once i strike that's all she wrote

you're mine now, to play as i please
and watch you as you wriggle in vain
from your credit card i tightly squeeze
every ounce of money i can easily gain

take into account and remove on the sly
is today how The Parish Boy's Progress
with Fagin at the back to watch and spy
the pickin's too easy to not transgress

© agoodguy2have 2011-03-09

When a man finds a woman
gently he must go
woman have emotions
and a tender soul
some will hurt easily
some will be tough
others will hide the hurt
and then have enough

A woman wants many things
but deeply to love
find someone strong and true
her hand to his glove
and should they argue
as lovers often do
why not hug and love her
and stop her feeling blue

And the rights or wrongs
that make us argue so
let them be like raindrops
and watch them as they go
kiss her and make up
and it will be better in the end
life's too short to argue
when bridges you can mend

So love her tenderly
passionatley eternally
let your lips touch
hands that caress
touch sweet frame
admire her so
shes never a mess
this woman of finess

disillusioned by affectation lead astay by the thought fantasy creates a reality that only pain has brought yet the expectation of a new creation is a feeling long sought confused by illusion was the lession taught

Am I done yet?
Glancing at my watch, wishing it's time to go...

Am I done yet?
Looking at my work load, wishing it's all cleared...

Am I done yet?
Pacing, sitting, standing, fingers fidgetting...

Realizing it's still long hours more,
I stopped asking myself.

Turning to my work load,
I embraced and focused on the task.

Added melody by moving my lips,
straightening my back.

Not noticing time raced by,
Glancing at my watch, fingers last move,task done.

This is my day,
pushing myself to be useful and productive.

only a look
only a glance
the music played
and soon they would dance
love can come
in unexpectedly

and it is so
that you never know
when you dont expect
love will arrive
only a look
and only a glance

Knowledge is gain, ignorance – loss,
This is what even children know.
We either learn or stay in the dark.

We learn all that is written in books
Through much boredom and toil.
This is what even children know.

We acquire the knowledge
Based on human experience
Through much boredom and toil.

Leaning on progress of old and new
We benefit from the knowledge
Based on human experience.

Equipped with the knowledge
Picked on the road to survival
We benefit from the knowledge.

It being a maxim, as everyone knows,
Knowledge is gain, ignorance – loss,
Picked on the road to survival,
We either learn or stay in the dark.

When i was just 6 my mum asked of me,
when you are older what will you be?
I went and i played and i gave it some thought,
A doctor or a lawyer, even an astronaught?

As I got older it came to pass,
I would stick in at school
and do well in class,
I got good grades and kept my nose clean,
"Its doesnt matter where im going, I know where ive been"

After high school,
I got my degree,
My parents face,
thier so proud of me,
I took a deep breath and told them my thoughts,
"Mum, dad, ive decided, im gonna be cop"

They smiled and said
"Thats a wise choice son,
you can do this job better than anyone"

Life was good,
I had everything you see,
A new born baby and a wife to be.

One day at work I was breaching a house,
I snuck up to the door quiet as a mouse,
"Police! get your hands up!"
As i ran through the door
BANG, i found myself laying on the floor.

In my thoughts i reflected,
on all that had passed,
doing well in school,
aceing each class,

making my parents proud and living my life,
My gorgeous little girl and my darling wife,

This all didnt matter it had to be said,
When I grow up I dont want to be dead.

luxuriating on the bright lit screen
see what write was wrought upon
for us to ponder points of plenty
words of wisdom from worlds beyond

all those thoughts from savage minds
enlightened visionaries, weird lines
of love and death and more love
to grip around my waist or throat

feel words breathing hard, panting
as they crawl up the leg, imploring
and incessantly slip into outer ear
to shout into tunneled mind

you feel my pain, depression, it says
as i walk into battle or cold river
drowning in human feelings too heavy
to flight the air of day's hope

did the dogs write the words down
and chimps peck at the typewriters
while parrots chirp cawed letters
telling the history of being human

no, it was the humanity in each of us
that took the time to scratch and peck
the farmyard of life, rich-scented
with desire to explain ourselves, us

indebted, we begrudgingly acknowledge
we couldn't have said it any better
though most cases can't be said at all
yet writers write and singers sing

always efforted, affronted, afflicted
with the need to explain what it is
to explain how we got here as if we
weren't even riding the same road

thumbs out, thumbs up! well done
you chronicler of timelined humanity
read your thoughts now to me aloud
sing your songs of woe and praise

© agoodguy2have 2010-12-17

Catch your breath
Open up and swallow air
The waves of the future
are fast approaching.
Kicking against the current
stretch arm over arm
swim, else drown
in the salt of tears,
the bittersweet pill of survival
clutched in our hands.

Laughter rings from within
conference-room walls
knowing the shoals
of year’s end closing
were safely navigated
sails slightly tattered
billowing in winter’s breeze.
Yet, frigid winds blow
outside our doors
waiting to ice spring plans.

Made instruments of our own demise,
then it will be the hemlock
that comes to our lips.