Poems From the Jersey Shore 32
Timothy is a Christian who enjoys creating visual art and writing. He has a B.S. in psychology.
Life Is But A Mystery
Each day of life is a mystery. We wake up without knowing what is going to befall us as the hours roll along. It could be something good. It could be something bad. We never know. It is all a mystery. The joy in life is not knowing. It allows us to be surprised. If we knew what was to come then we could prepare for it, but it would take away the surprise.
My poems are like each day. When I start writing a new poem each line is a mystery, a surprise waiting to spill forth on the page. I hope you enjoy these new poems.
Who Are You?
Who are you?
You
Or another
Who hides the you
Under a facade of them
Who you are
Also depends
If your who
Wants to be the who
You’re born as
Or the who
They lead you
To believe
You need to be
So choose your who
Carefully
Cause it will shape
The who
You will be for life
Who are you was a poem born of the idea many times our public persona differs from the one we are in private. The poem begs the question, “Who are you?”
Itchy
Itch
Itch
Scratch
Itch
Itch
Scratch
Darn poison ivy
Itch
Itch
Scratch
Is drivin me crazy
Itch
Itch
Scratch
Gotta rub on the lotion
Itch
Itch
Scratch
A kind of potion
Itch
Itch
Scratch
To take the itchy away
Itch
Itch
Scratch
Hope it works right away
Just a humorous take on getting a case of poison ivy.
Peanut Butter and Jelly
Peanut butter and jelly
Is my favorite food
I’d eat it all day long
If only I knew I could
I’d put it on my eggs
I’d lather it on my toast
Maybe on some bread
Or my mom's pot roast
I’d put it in my oatmeal
I’d glaze it on my ham
I’d put it on my Lima beans
Or my slices of Spam
Sorry to cut this poem short
But it’s time for my lunch
I’m gonna have my favorite
A peanut butter and jelly sandwich
A poem born out of my love for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Admit it you like them too.
The Dog
The dog runs through the yard
Tail wagging
To greet the one person in the world
He loves
Most
His best friend of all
The grown boy
Who raised him
Home
Again
Spam
As a child
My special treat
Was a blue can
Of potted meat
Spam
I’d eat it
In my eggs
I’d eat it
On bread
I’d eat it
In a pan fried
I’d eat it
Morning, noon and night
Spam
The potted meat
I used to love eat
A poem dedicated to the age old favorite potted meat…Spam.
Old People
Don’t give up on us old people
We’re really fun to have around
Sure, We may fart
We may burp
We may make odd sounds
We may talk about life way back when
We may mumble
We may not hear you
Cause our hearing aids not on
We may walk slower
We may bend lower
We may seem like our time is done
But, we still have a lot of love to give
We still have a lot of wisdom to sieve
So don’t give up on us old people
Instead talk to us were really agreeable
A poem I wrote when I realized I was an older person.
Larger to Smaller
Larger to smaller
Smaller to larger
Just the way it is
The way it’s always
Gonna be
Cause life is defined
By
The size of the things
You have or have not
What the people see
But the truth is in
What we don’t see
Which matters the most
The heart may be small
But it can do larger things
Depending on whether
There is a larger or smaller
Joy
Rooted in the truth
The final poem is dedicated to the idea bigger is not always better.
© 2021 Timothy Whitt
Comments
Timothy Whitt (author) from New Jersey on June 07, 2021:
Thank you for your kind words
John Hansen from Australia (Gondwana Land) on June 07, 2021:
Nice work on these poems, Tim. They brought a smile. I don't like peanut butter and jelly though.