Amy's Place .. Poetry and Potpourri .. Dec. 19-20-21, 2003

12-19-2003 | JustAmy, St. Louie1 and Mama_Bear

[JustAmy]

Welcome To....


'Amy's Place' welcomes all poets
and those who enjoy poetry. 'Amy's Place' is more than just about poetry.
Come in, relax, and share with fellow FReepers
your thoughts about any of the things on the *Menu*.

Enjoy! :)












Never Forget!



Howdy!
I'm the mouser at Amy's Place. Amy named me 'cootblanch'.... (don't ask why. hahaha)







Amy's personal guardian ~
the always charming, lovable, huggable,
LouieWolf




Many thanks for stopping by. : )

[Darksheare]

Oh no..

[Conspiracy Guy]

I have been carpet bombing poeming already.

[Conspiracy Guy]

It continues.

Hitlery

You hate the country of your birth,
You’d sell your soul to crush it.
You fight the things that made us great,
Your own demise please rush it.
New York put their faith in you,
Yes it was placed so poorly.
You will indeed soon be replaced,
They need a change so sorely.
So keep it up, your hate and scorn,
And you they will attack.
By the way I’ve heard that Satan,
Wants to buy his soul back

Conspiracy Guy 10/24/03

[Dubya]

You are welcome.

When I was very little
All the Grandmas that I knew
All walked around this world
In ugly grandma shoes.

You know the ones I speak of;
those black clunky heeled kind.
They just looked so very awful
That it weighed upon my mind,

For I knew, when I grew old
I'd have to wear those shoes.
I'd think of that, from time to time;
It seemed like such bad news.

I never was a rebel.
I wore saddle shoes to school.
And next came ballerinas,
Then the sandals, pretty cool.

And then came spikes with pointed toes;
Then platforms, very tall.
As each new fashion came along,
I wore them, one and all.

But always, in the distance,
Looming in my future, there
Was that awful pair of ugly shoes;
The kind that Grandmas wear.

I eventually got married,
And then I became a Mom.
Our kids grew up and left,
And then their children came along.

I knew I was a Grandma,
And the time was drawing near,
When those clunky, black, old lace up shoes
Was what I'd have to wear.

How would I do my gardening
Or take my morning hike?
I couldn't even think about
How I would ride my bike!

But fashions kept evolving.
And one day I realized
That the shape of things to come
Was changing, right before my eyes.

And now, when I go shopping,
What I see, fills me with glee
For, in my jeans and Reeboks
I'm as comfy as can be.

And I look at all these teenage girls
And there, upon their feet,
Are clunky, black, old Grandma shoes!
And they really think they're neat.

---

Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous
judgment. -John 7:24

[jkphoto]

LOL . . . That was good. I will see if I can find one in the next day or so.

[JustAmy]

I've noticed and I am enjoying every one of them.

[JustAmy]

LOL

[JustAmy]

Thank you for posting that poem.

I saw it a year or so ago and have looked and looked for it. I'm going to save it this time. I've always had a fondness for shoes and I'm still in style with my Reeboks and Keds. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with all the lovely shoes in the back of my closet.

[Conspiracy Guy]

Al Gore Rhythm

He hasn’t been around much,
Thank God at least for that.
He has zee ro cha raz ma,
He’s dumber than a bat.
The internet he did create,
And he can travel time.
Bill Clinton was his mentor,
And partner too in crime.
I wish he’d leave just go away,
And take Slick Willie too.
Tip and Hill could tag along,
I’ll pack your bags for you.

Conspiracy Guy 10/14/03

[Conspiracy Guy]

Katie

My TV set is seldom on,
The place called NBC.
I seldom stop to listen to,
The lies they fling at me.
But every now and sometimes then,
I have to cruise on by.
To watch the little evil snit,
And laugh right in her eye.
She wrinkles up her face so tight,
It looks just like a fist.
If something good she must report,
You'll see that she is pissed.
She hates Bush and Arnold too,
America she loathes.
If I was network president,
She couldn’t buy her clothes.
So this I say for all to hear,
I think that she's a slob.
Ms Couric’s insignificant,
I’d love to take her job.

Conspiracy Guy 10/8/3

[JustAmy]

I have to leave for a couple of hours but I shall return.

[Darksheare]

See you when you get back.

[OESY]

My next trick: Learning to ride a bike

Flaming Raccoon Pie (A True Story, as reported in the local newspaper)
In rural Carbon County, PA, a group of men were drinking beer and discharging firearms from the rear deck of a home owned by Irving Michaels, age 27. The men were firing at a raccoon that was wandering by, but the beer impaired their aim and, despite of the estimated 50 shots they fired, the 'coon escaped into a 3 foot diameter drainage pipe some 100 feet away from Mr. Michaels' deck.

Determined to terminate the animal, Michaels retrieved a can of gasoline and poured some down the pipe, intending to smoke the animal out. After several unsuccessful attempts to ignite the fuel, he emptied the entire 5 gallon can down the pipe and tried to ignite it, again to no avail. Not ready to admit defeat by wildlife, the determined Mr. Michaels proceeded to slide feet-first approximately 15 feet down the sloping pipe so he could toss the match, which he did.

The subsequent rapidly expanding fireball propelled Michaels back the way he had come, though at a higher rate of speed. He exited the angled pipe "like a Polaris missile leaves a submarine," according to witness Joseph McFadden, 31. Mr. Michaels was launched directly over his own home, right over the heads of his astonished friends, onto his front lawn. In all, he traveled over 200 feet through the air.

"There was a Doppler Effect like a train siren to his scream as he flew over us," McFadden reported, "Followed by a loud thud."

Amazingly, he suffered only minor injuries. "It was actually pretty cool," Michaels said, "Like when they shoot someone out of a cannon at the circus. I'd do it again if I was sure I wouldn't get hurt."

There is still no word about the raccoon.

[Mama_Bear]

That was good. I will see if I can find one in the next day or so.

Oh no, jkphoto has shown up and will be posting jokes?! Shouldn't you be working or out Christmas shopping or something, JK? How did you find us here, did someone ping you? LOL.

(BTW, JK, I think I might get that Bush W doll over on the Finest thread.....keep your fingers crossed, or better yet, go put in a good word for me.) ;-) HUGS!

[Mama_Bear]

LOL! That is funny, CG.

I've been enjoying your poetry today. Welcome to Amy's Place. I can see you are going to get along just fine here. ;-)

[Darksheare]

*sniff*
That's pretty.
Wish I was there to see it.

[Mama_Bear]

Flaming Raccoon Pie

LOL! Sounds like Michaels got his 'just desserts'.

Love your series of raccoon photos. Although, some are definitely cuter than others. ;-)

[Conspiracy Guy]

Thanks, Conspiracy Guy is a silly man.


Howie

Your comments really crack me up,
I’d have to say you’re funny.
As funny as a hemorrhoid,
Or as a nose that’s runny.
Saddam’s capture no big deal,
Your stance is still the same.
You’re really sucking big on this,
I’d say your brain is lame.
But tell me Howie I must know,
These speeches just who writes them?
Katie Couric comes to mind,
Or Michael Moore is it him?
Well Doctor Dean you make me sick,
For malpractice, I will sue you.
Please get a clue, I’ll sell you one,
John Kerry needs a few too.

Conspiracy Guy 12/16/03

[OESY]

Sounds like Michaels got his 'just desserts'.

I like that. Turns out it was Michaels who became the pie in the sky.

The Toastmasters Chapter had told him he needed to project himself more. In all due deference to Steinbeck, what Michaels yelled at the top of his lungs (and trajectory) was "I do give a Flying (obscenity) where I land."

I'm sure the raccoon enjoyed watching the whole episode, knowing he would never be bothered again by Michaels.

[Darksheare]

Yeah, the raccoon was probably sitting somewhere other than the pipe watching the whole thing go down.