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X-Roughneck
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Lets see if i can remember one...





Uh,there was an old lady from Wheeling.

Who had a peculiar feeling.

She lay on her back.

And i can't remember the rest.

As i stare at the ceiling.
 

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Premium Member
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1,049 Posts
Ok, you need a little background to understand this one. During Desert Storm we had a local company, Kanooz Brothers, come and pumped our latrines with their honey wagons. They always made a mess of the job, so a friend of mine came up with this little poem.


The ooze from Kanooz
Flows mainly on your shoes!
 

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Premium Member
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666 Posts
This Moon
I've Gazed Upon Her
Many a Time
This Moon
With Thoughts
With Dreams
Of What We Are
And what could be
Many A Soul
Has Wondered
As it glistens
In the Darkness
With Stars for Company
It's light Shines the Way
I will follow
One Day
But Tonight
I Dream
 

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Senior Something
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13,228 Posts
A Poem Worth Reading


He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Joe has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.

He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Soldier
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end.

He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his likes again.
For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."


Author unknown
Passed along by the Antelope Valley PGR Chapter Caption
 

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A progressable poem

Seems this thread hit a dead end. :?

CURIOUS:
Wonder how can this will work.
4 line stanzas of a progressing poem.
BUT ONLY add 2 lines.
Hopefully they'll rhyme but not necessary as long as the context works.

COPY and PASTE the previous set, then add your lines.
I'll start one up.
________________________________
.

I lean over and turn on the radio,
skimming for just the right station.




.
 

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25 Posts
Back in the Wind

Back in the Wind


The draw upon me heavy as I've tossed my wandering ways
For years I've cast myself happily, as a normal man and stayed

This day I do confess myself a traveler once again
Yet not a man the same, as the man I was back then

The wind has nigh stopped calling me to it's own path and cry
Yet upon it's beacon do I return anew toward my own path of day and night

Yes I have returned to my place upon the breeze
But now I have a shelter, a home of which I need

Here upon the highways may now myself be found
But as I travel on, it's to my family am I bound
 

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I know another kayaker from another forum who should post here.. He gave me the name of Wicked Woman of Windsor years ago and I still go by it! HAHA!! TW is very poetic!
 

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Still a winger at heart.
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20,867 Posts
So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.

Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours.Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people.

Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself.

Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way.

Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

Tecumseh
 

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4,208 Posts
Out riding my Wing, then it broke.
Called Broke, dead also be his Wing.

The two of us, miles apart,
Both our Wings simply won't start.

Called nearby HD shop, with voice so snarly.
"We will haul it, as long as it's a Harley."

Keep a tow list, make it handy
He might answer, "Name is Andy."
 

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4,208 Posts
Just A Dream
© Jesse Fores
...
next to the girl that makes your heart pound
she draws nearer
her eyes are a little more clearer
you can feel it coming, a kiss
but then something comes amiss
you wake up and you ask yourself "was it just a dream?"
They call this a dream, (sigh)
which turned into a nightmare,...
because it was,.... just a dream.
:sadguy:
.
.
Boy, do I need... :needahug:
 

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767 Posts
Angel or Man?


I met an old man whose cloths were torn​
In his hand was a Bible, it was marked and worn​
I said Sir, where have you been?​
He said, Montana I think, I just can’t remember when​
I said, why did you go? Was it do or die?​
He said, Jesus sent me, I don’t know why​
I said, what did you see?​
He said I saw a little boy, being buried under a tree​
His parents were grieving; there was tears in their eyes​
For that little boy, under the Montana skies​
I said Sir, what then did you do?​
He said, I told them about Jesus, just as I’m telling you​
I said, Sir you haven’t said much about Jesus today​
He said, I don’t know much, for I am only clay​
But I did mention the little boy​
His parents whose loss left them with no joy​
Look around you son, and you will see​
That Jesus is in you and he is in me​
I said Sir, would you sit with me a while​
I just lost my wife, and I cannot smile​
He sat with me a while, under an old Oak tree​
It was there he told me about Jesus​
And he set my heart free​
He walked on down the road​
His walk wobbly and slow​
Was it Angel or man? I will never know​
So if you should meet an old man with a cane​
A worn Bible in his hand, who can’t remember his name​
Let him tell you about Jesus, you’ll be glad he came​
You will smile again; you will never be the same.​
 

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I don't know about the talent, and not much of a poet, but thanks for the vote. I wrote that one a couple years back.
 
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