Poems For Fun

           What more is there to say ... Except, Don't take them too seriously!

Toe Truck

Harry and Dan Turner 7/17/01

I stubbed my toe.

It was quite a blow!

This I wish to tell.

My toe hurt like hell.

The pain was bad!

So, I yelled to my dad,

"I've had terrible bad luck!

Call 911 - I need a toe truck!"

Election 2000 

 Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Gore may be a fibber,
and young Bush, too.
> >
I can't vote for Gore,
& I don't like Ralph Nadar.
Bush, Junior - he isn't much better.
Bucannan, Yuck, not sooner or later!
<<
Why can't we just write in another.
I'm sure they - would answer the call.
Like McCain, Cheney, Lieberman or Powell
These are the guys, that I like most of all.
< >
When the election's all over.

When the fat lady has sung.

I hope this one keeps his pants up -

after his term has begun.
 ><

                                  - Dan Turner 10/13/00 Friday

                                   Thee Familee Tree

I was helping my mom, in my own little way.

When some of her web pages, had gone astray.

“Genealogy”, she said, “is the study of genes.”

I replied, “A boring subject, for many, it seems.”

To her, it appears, to be quite a passion.

So in her computer, history she’s stash’n.

Who begat who, and when did they die.

So many kids, I just wanted to cry.

Then came the part of  ‘How did they live?’

This was more fun  -  I grudgingly give.

They labored on farms and toiled at their work.

I wondered if Ezra was nice, or a neighborhood jerk?

Did they relish a good, dirty joke?

Or were they staunch, religious folk.

Did they dance and sing out loud?

Or for this, were they much too proud.

Were there soldiers in a great world war?

Did they ever risk life or even a lot more?

Did they build the ships that sailed the seas?

Or shopkeepers, who just wanted to please.

Were they of the elite, up-town, group?

Or did they make their liv’n - shovlin’ poop?

When I was through, I had learned quite a lot.

But as you can imagine, my mom was distraught.

Heroes and bums, nurses-on-call.

It seems our linage, nearly has all.

But the oldest, closest, family secret she keeps.

Remember, she wouldn’t be pleased, if anyone peeps.

Of a many-great Uncle George, on her father’s side.

Whom she speaks of rarely, with limited pride.

Finally, late in the night, she gave me the scoop.

He was stealing bananas, from the rest of the troop.

                                      -Dan Turner 9/11/00

 

Shades of Brown   How many shades of brown are there? You say you'd like to know? Come with me to my sock drawer, and - for you - I'll gladly show.   For there are many, many browns. But, forsooth, there is a catch. In this monstrous dresser drawer, not a single sock does match.   I once thought the washer - selectively ate them all. Now, I know the weaver - is more shrewd than me. To test my theory, I scribed many of the pairs. To my amazement, every sock ... faded differently.   For a time, I surmised, that if I acquired even more; some of these socks would fade the same. Eventually, I would get enough - to beat their clever game.   But now, admittedly, I have seen the light. I acknowledge, the brilliance of these souls. For now, that the colors match - they're filled with little holes.                                     - Dan Turner 9/10/00

 

 

 

 

Life at 78 Speed

 

I recall an old record,

that I played when I was young.

At the time it seemed so funny,

as the words were sadly sung.

 

And now that I am older,

the lyrics echo in my mind.

Its truth becomes too real,

so much wisdom in its time.

 

The title of the song,

though simple I admit.

Has meaning to me now.

"Life sh'ore gets tejus - don't it."

                                

                                      - Dan Turner 2/26/00

 

 

My Mom

by Tommy Nokes

September 8, 2002

Our teacher assigned us with a task. And we all do - just as we're asked. To write a poem about our mom. One as lovely as a psalm.   I want to do my best 'cause I love her so. Everyday she helps me - learn and grow.   My mom has a great big heart. And man can she really fart. Her heart must be as pure as gold. But when she farts - your nose you hold.   My mom can also belch real loud. She always makes me really proud.   This assignment was really fun. And now that it's nearly done. There's one thing more I'd like to do. Just so you know my pride is true.   I think it would be - really swell. To bring my mom to show-and-tell.

                                                                               

A Scentimental Poem

by Tommy Nokes

September 27, 2002

It might be silent. It could be quite loud. It may go unnoticed. Or attract a big crowd.   But we're all about to know. For in a dash - in a dart. This ol' cowboy   is gonna cut loose a fart.

 

 

 

 

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