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Most Liked Quatrain Poems (302)

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Unknown

youtube "LET THEM BE LITTLE" by anyone

There have been songs, poems and discussions ad infinitum on this subject, here’s my attempt at being whatever the rest of you are and I ain’t

ELECTRIC PAINS

They told me this would happen
But surely not to me
They said there are certain things life cannot abide
And one of those facts doesn’t come for free

We would go places and they would all remark
As I thanked God for what they were looking at
But no matter how I prayed, beseeched and I begged
Right beside me on a chair is where my future sat

Everything was the best, everything was great
Everything was everything I ever wanted all in one
One very little package but prized more than gold
And I remember when I could still use the word “fun”

Now when I say the word “fun it seems strange and aloof
And I suppose it’s the same thing with the word “joy”
It’s difficult to talk in terms of things you miss so
Like little Frannie in fourth grade and my favorite toy

I tried to avoid accepting what every one else expected
I tried to turn a “cannot” into a “can be” for me
Then one night as I went to turn off the light
Even though it was dark I still could easily see

It was something I tried to ward off for so many years
But with surety in reality there are things a mere mortal can’t delay
Suddenly electric trains and baseball cards became things of the past
Because they can’t stay little forever and my baby leaves for college today
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
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Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
i told her to tint those windows!
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Unknown

this is un-important compared TO GROWING DAISIES

DID WILL, BILL AND GIL GET THEIR PILL?

I have this great idea to invent a pill
Make it so men can get pregnant as well
Dudes walking around in camouflage
Get a huge belly and know pregnancy is an un-earthly hell

This pill will be mandated and mandatory to ingest
Let’s let men do what women have been doing since Eve
Let the future climb out of Walter’s womb
With little baskets to make and baby blankets to weave

So mommy is in one hospital room and daddy’s in another
And our peaceful home will be noisy for quite a while
One kid from her and the other one from him
And the dad wonders how his wife can summon a smile

Don’t all of you get it, there’s been a problem for years
And we should have monitored each and every birth
Because all we’ve accomplished is a problem made worse
And doesn’t everyone understand we are over-populating the earth?
© 2011.….~free cee!~ FREEPOETRY
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Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
NOW I CAN WATCH SAMMY DAVIS JR. DO "MR. BO JANGLES" AND MAKE ME CURSE THE CONCEPT OF DEATH
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Unknown

D.N.R. EVER EVEN IF YOU THINK I CAN LIVE please!

D.N.R. EVER EVEN IF YOU THINK I CAN LIVE

Not one junkie I know has a test kit for purity
But I can tell you this much with surety
Although we should all be grateful for survival
I’d rather be declared dead on arrival

Frankly I’ve had enough of never being certain
And I begged the stagehand to bring down the curtain
An addict yearns for quality and a cloud like dream
But Then I awake in a hospital and begin to scream

I scream for the friends I’ve lost who were never revived
Shoot, I haven’t even a clue how I have survived
Every day I’m a pearl in peril on a random roulette wheel
Never knowing if I’ll O.D after I consume my last meal

So next time anyone sees me in the gutter simply leave me there
Because I can tell you this much and I’ll make it clear
I’ve never given a damn about religion or the Holy Bible
But I swear on it, please, this time let me be declared dead on arrival
© 2011 Poefree
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Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
I NEED HER LIKE A WALTZ NEEDS MUSIC, PAINT FOR A PORTRAIT AND A CLOWN NEEDS MAKE-UP I PROMISED MY SON NOT AGAIN, BUT THIS ONE WOULD BE ONLY THREE YEARS OLDER THAN HIM....HE, HIS WIFE AND MY WHOMEVER COULD ALL LISTEN TO "SLIGHTLY STOOPID" WHILE I LISEN TO SAMMY DAVIS JR. PARTICULARLY "MR. BOJANGLES
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Unknown

YO J! THIS AIN'T A "J" POEM

v]
DID WILL, BILL AND GIL GET THEIR PILL?

I have this great idea to invent a pill
Make it so men can get pregnant as well
Dudes walking around in camouflage
Get a huge belly and know pregnancy is an un-earthly hell

This pill will be mandated and mandatory to ingest
Let’s let men do what women have been doing since Eve
Let the future climb out of Walter’s womb
With little baskets to make and baby blankets to weave

So mommy is in one hospital room and daddy’s in another
And our peaceful home will be noisy for quite a while
One kid from her and the other one from him
And the dad wonders how his wife can summon a smile

Don’t all of you get it, there’s been a problem for years
And we should have monitored each and every birth
Because all we’ve accomplished is a problem made worse
And doesn’t everyone understand we are over-populating the earth?
© 2011.….~free cee!~ FREEPOETRY
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
since i'm only 2178 this isn't isn't half the poem whomever the number one poet is...imagine the aura that must surround him
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Unknown

born BLIND to THE uni-CURSE

BORN BLIND TO THE UNICURSE

Please advise me when I can open my eyes
Until then closed shall they be
I’m blinded and deafened to any lies
As angry grows the sea

I refuse to see the sadness I’ve seen
I won’t look at the ugliness mankind can’t deny
So give me a Jack with a beer back and a bit of Grenadine
As angry grows the sky

Were I to open mine eyes as of now I know what I’d see
I’d see the same waste and an eight year old kid with a gun
So why would I want to see the greedy, the needy and junkies like me?
As angry grows the sun

‘tis wrong to see what we’ve done to the earth
And now living on this planet has become a caustic curse
Our society is a monument to the death of merriment and mirth
As angry grows the universe
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
number 1
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Unknown

PYSICALLY aged BUT spirtualLY YOUTHful

PYSICALLY AGED BUT SPIRITUALLY YOUTHFUL

He stared at me with his cloudy and aged eyes
Aged but oh so very wise
My girlfriend of fifteen years introduced he and I
As the figure of an intelligent man drew nigh

So he would join us for some wine and just a bit of cheese
And said “go ahead and call me “Shooter” if you please
They named me that because I wouldn’t pick up a gun
And hope I taught the very same principle to my son

Pick up the rifle, that shotgun or a sword
And I pray the words I say to my son won’t be ignored
Once you pick up that weapon of war my boy
You join the spirit of Gettysburg, Korea and Hanoi

So “Shooter” went on about what his son had done
Did he ever disrespect you and pick up a gun?
“Shooter” related all the hopes which fate would never yield
And then he whispered, “yes, he picked up a gun and died for oil and land on a foreign battlefield”
© 2011.…~ Phreepoetree free cee!~
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Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
i was listening to some JAZZ, E....VEN THOUGH MY FRIENDS DON'T DIG IT
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Unknown

I THOUGHT I HEARD THE word THIRD

I THOUGHT I HEARD THE WORD THIRD

I used to walk south to twenty-third and eighth then make a left hand turn
I walked all the way in ragged jeans and shoes that ain’t got no sole
My mission was to reach a man who actually made me wish to learn
To know the streets and read the faces as he did became my ultimate goal

He was filthy but with clothes not very old
His name was J. Harrington the third
More than a few of us sat transfixed on what we were told
And marveled at every single word

He’d describe what he nor anyone knew for sure
Is it darkness ever after or a table with Jesus as his newest guest
Is their deity sitting around inventing a new disease for which there is no cure
And all of us would praise Mr. Harrington at superiority’s request

He’d speak of the things he’s done that he can never take back
He was old now but his conscience would ever stay young
He spoke of life as if all we needed was a roof over a shack
And let go of the dreams of fancy to which we all clung

One morning of late I made my same old trip
Walk to a man I was beholden to for knowledge and more
He talked of steamers, steam engines and stowing away on a ship
But now we’re left on our own since Mr. J. Harrington the third gave up the night before
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
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Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE WENT, SHE JUST UP AND DISAPPEARED
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Unknown

an uNKIND KIND OF KINDLING

A UNKIND KIND OF KINDLING

I am taking pictures off the wall
Then taking them to the flame
I am burning each and all
Food for a fire fueled by blame

Snapshots that still had the sweet aroma of your perfume
Here are the figures and figurines that once posed the query, “Can love get any better than this?
Figures and images we hung in the front room
And a thousand scenes of me giving you a kindling kiss

I never let things go but fought over so many paltry things
It’s easier burning photos than the memory of the night she took my name
A night of an angel in white and a man in black and tails trading rings
Further food for a fire fueled by shame

I’ll have to spackle those holes and heal them quite well
But I am incapable of healing what which has been done is done
I’ve a legion of sins and there’s so much more to tell
But what’s gone is gone so I’m burning pictures one by one

I will always remember when I first heard an angel’s song
Lyrics of love as two hearts were bound together by desire
But not even that angel could accept all that I’ve done wrong
Disregarding the deepest description of both desire and this fire

She knew I had to go as her face betrayed a frigid frown
It hadn’t been easy letting her down easy at all
I simply said “I’m saddling my horse Scout and leaving town”
And Scout is getting restless so I’ll stop taking pictures off the wall
© 2011.….Phreepoetree
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
REMEMBER THE HOKEY-POKEY....WASN' THAT YOU PUT YOUR RIGHT FOOT IN
THEN YOU PUT YOUR FOOT IN YOUR MOUTH
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Unknown

R e T u R n TO tender

RETURN TO TENDER

I wrote my lover a letter saying I wish you were here
I’m as lonely as a dove whose mate just died
In that letter I made my need for her amply clear
And I would let her know when all my tears finally have dried

Being alone like this banishes me to the limit of poisonous pain
Caught in a trap with no one to speak with or to
I’m consumed by damnation, disaster and disdain
While it’s really not easy to do that which I must do

Wishing she were here with me is absolutely futile
As I fuss and fight with Satan from far below
And not seeing her standing before me is brutal
It brutalizes and bruises me from head to toe

I wrote my lover a letter saying “my dear, I miss you so”
And if God knows what I should do please, I pray tell
If she ever get to read those words I will never know
Because there is no “Receipt return requested in hell”
© 2010.…….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
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lorentz

nostradamus tea party

stop a mambo step..
a harsh salsa..
pale in regae ...
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Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
the guy has really a manner of jewish humor...
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