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Gummy The Gumshoe

There was a gumshoe named Gummy
Some people do not know what gumshoe is-a detective

Well, I will tell you a story
I was walking the streets lasrt night

I saw a shadow formed behind a street light
It did not scare me because I knew it was Gummy

Gummy was out trying to solve a crime
The crime was a murder

It was commited within a very rich family
Gummy searched for evidence and could find none and that is the end of the story

poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am not a pop musician; I don't want to play bubble-gummy pop stuff.

quote by Neil Schon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Lunch

A candy bar.
A piece of cake.
A lollipop.
A chocolate shake.

A jelly donut.
Chocolate chips.
Some gummy worms
and licorice whips.

A candy cane.
A lemon drop.
Some bubblegum
and soda pop.

Vanilla wafers.
Cherry punch.
My mom slept in
while I made lunch.

poem by Denio F.S
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Delicious Colors

Hot pink bubble gum
Bright orange sweet tarts
Lime green lolli pops
Bright red gummy bears
Baby blue cotton candy
Bright purple gumdrops
Highlighter yellow lemon heads
Bright peach jelly beans

poem by Natalie McCoy
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The Pillar Box

The pillar box is fat and red,
The pillar box is high;
It has the flattest sort of head
And not a nose or eye,
But just one open nigger mouth
That grins when I go by.

The pillar box is very round
But hungry all the day;
Although it doesn't make a sound,
Folks know it wants to say,
"Give me some letter sandwiches
To pass the time away."

"A postage stamp I like to eat
Or gummy letterette."
I see the people on the street,
If it is fine or wet,
Give something to the greedy thing;
They never quite forget.

The pillar box is quite a friend;
When Father goes away
My Mother has such lots to send,
Far letters every day,
And so I drop them in its mouth
When I go out to play.

poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Blueflags

I stopped the car
to let the children down
where the streets end
in the sun
at the marsh edge
and the reeds begin
and there are small houses
facing the reeds
and the blue mist in the distance
with grapevine trellises
with grape clusters
small as strawberries
on the vines
and ditches
running springwater
that continue the gutters
with willows over them.
The reeds begin
like water at a shore
their pointed petals waving
dark green and light.
But blueflags are blossoming
in the reeds
which the children pluck
chattering in the reeds
high over their heads
which they part
with bare arms to appear
with fists of flowers
till in the air
there comes the smell
of calmus
from wet, gummy stalks.

poem by William Carlos Williams
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Mart. Ep. XV. Lib. 6.

MART. EP. XV. LIB. 6.

Dum Phaetontea formica vagatur in umbra,
Implicuit tenuem succina gutta feram,
Dignum tantorum pretium tulit illa laborum:
Credibile est ipsam sic voluisse mori.

ENGLISHED.

Whilst in an amber-shade the ant doth feast,
A gummy drop ensnares the small wild-beast,
A full reward of all her toyls hath she;
'Tis to be thought she would her self so die.

poem by Richard Lovelace
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He's Not Fond of Rice

She dresses nice and speaks with falsities.
But she's never without spring water.
She wants to give impressions like she's queen of deities.
But true leaders listening in are getting bored(er) .
She shops without stopping for those TV ops.
In the finest silk tailored suits.
And her hair doesn't move' cause it's glued!

He's not found of Rice.
Me neither.
It gets gummy on the plate when it's thickened.
Not too many cook it right.
And overnight it has lost many their appetites.
Some might like their Rice,
But I dislike it when it sickens.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chewing Gum (Fun Poem 46)

I enjoy chewing gum
it takes my mind off cigarettes,
but because I have false teeth.
(I lost the real ones years ago)
Chewing gum become like chewing super glue.
When it sticks, boy does it stick.
You stand in the bathroom
completely and utterly gummy
scraping the gum of your dentures.
So now, my motto is
if you have dentures
suck on a hard-boiled sweet,
they don’t stick to your teeth.

poem by David Harris
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Mid-Week Blues (Fun Poem 62)

It is Wednesday morning
and I have a case of
the mid-week blues.
Overslept this morning,
getting out to work
was such a rush that
I almost forgot to put
my false teeth in.
Almost went to work gummy.
No one would have understood
a single word I said.
Finally got to work
just in the nick of time.
I can see what kind of day
this is going to be,
another Wednesday
filled with the mid-week blues.

6 February 2008

poem by David Harris
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Is It A Crime?

Is it a crime?
When love find its way home
Far away from what’s written in the name card
Yet it is the perfect place to dwell
Would we learn the new path?

Is it a crime?
When a vow loose its meaning
Far too fast from its due moment
Yet it is the sincere words to hold
Would we find the missing line?

Is it a crime?
When good intention change its color
Far too dim from its original shadow
Yet it is the brightest light to follow
Would we follow the former guidance?

Is it a crime?
When the heart beat miss its rhyme
Far too distance from its old note
Yet it is the lovely language to be spell
Would we understand the true lesson?

Is it a crime?
When the dream perform its reality
Far too complicated from what expected
Yet it is the finest story ever to be told
Would we appreciate the truth?

Is it a crime?
When the faith despise its power
Far too fragile from the restless mind
Yet it is the perfect theory to buy
Would we count on the premonition?

Is it a crime?
When my mind loosing its sanity
Far too reckless from my pure intention
Yet it is nothing but you
Would you reply all of my questions?

poem by Niken Kusuma Wardani
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In The Night

Zazou, what youre gonna do?
Theres a lot of people coming for you
Zazou, comment allez-vous?
A knock on the door in the night
That zazou, he dont care
Dark glasses, long hair
Takes his time, sneers at men
Some ugly people want revenge
Zazou, comment allez-vous?
A knock on the door in the night (in the night)
In the night (in the night)
That zazou, he sleeps all day
Then down to select or le collisee
Sips his drinks, orders more
Says what he thinks and its a crazy war
Zazou, what youre gonna do?
A knock on the door in the night
(in the night in the night ...)
Zazou, comment allez-vous?
A knock on the door in the night (the night the night)
And when the soldiers strut, all he cares about
Is love
When the flags are out, all he cares about
Is love
Well, theres a thin line between love and crime
And in this situation
A thin line between love and crime and -
Collaboration (-ration)
In the night
(in the night in the night in the night in the night ...)
(crime crime crime crime crime crime crime crime crime crime
Crime crime crime crime crime crime crime crime crime crime
Crime crime crime crime ...)
In the night (in the night in the night)
In the night (in the night in the night)
Zazou, what youre gonna do?
Theres a lot of people coming for you
Zazou, comment allez-vous?
A knock on the door in the night
Now everybodys under somebodys spell
Unless theyve already gone to hell
In the streets you can hear the people say
That, zazou, he should be locked away!
When the soldiers strut, all he cares about
Is love
Oh, when the flags are out, all he cares about
Is love
And theres a thin line between love and crime
And in this situation
A thin line between love and crime and
Collaboration

song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Murder Story

You say to me things should soon be alright
I get so scared if I dont get out at night
The questions real
The answer so false
I just cant cope no more with this rate of pulse
I lost my past
I gave it away
I feel so insecure
I couldnt take another day
Please be kind
Dont call me no wreck
My nerves are very live you know
But soon theyre going to break
No oh no
Another murder story
No oh no
Another murder story
So dont come too close
I cant stand the heat
I get nightmares of places people go to meet
Its so apparent when I walk in the door
That Im all alone
Theres no one home and no one wants me anymore
So claustrophobic if I stand I one place
This state of mind Im in is positively quite a disgrace
The children from the street call out my name
Hey you
Its all so mutual but you know
I just dont want to share no fame
No oh no
Another murder story
No oh no
Another murder story
No oh no
Murder story
No oh no
No oh no
Lyrics : j kerr music : burchill/kerr (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission

song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Jenny

The children taunt old Jenny they say you can't chew meat
And you must eat your porridge you don't have any teeth
They call her Gummy Jenny and then they run away
And when she yells 'you go to hell' it only makes their day.

But children will be children they still have much to learn
And the difference between fun and harassment they have yet to discern
By making Jenny angry such fun in that they see
And if she did not react to them perhaps they'd leave her be

She lives on retirement pension in need of every cent
It's a struggle for her just to survive to buy food and pay rent
One of the forgotten people one of the many who
Deserve better in their old age respect is overdue.

Condemned to suffer the jeers and taunts of every young blaghguard
For all of the Jenny's of this World life must be very hard
Some children have fun taunting her to cruelty they are blind
Though many are far more aware and are not so unkind.

Some children taunt old Jenny she shouts 'you go to hell'
And they run off on down the street and laugh loud as she yell
Condemned in her twilight years to suffer the ridicule
Of naughty little rascals who have only started school.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Chocolate Covered Gummy Bears

Chocolate covered gummy bears,
So deliciously sweet,
With their cute heads,
And tiny feet.
Different colors, tastes and shapes.

So deliciously sweet,
Chocolate and fruit flavors.
Don’t hold them so long
For if you do your hand becomes,
Gooey,
Brown,
Chocolaty
But don’t worry,
Just,
Go to the sink and wash it.
If you get mad,
They become a stress reliever.
Pull its head off,
Mash its head into another.
Stress is gone and they are still,
So deliciously sweet.
Yum!
-Michelle Tricarico

poem by Michelle Tricarico
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Everything Is Broken

Glue, super glue, Elmer's glue
Duct tape, Scotch tape,
New, Coup deville, Elmer Fudd
strut late, Scotch hop

Industry Velcro, molten steel,
cement and plaster-of-Paris.
Gwyneth Kate Paltrow, bolt-on wheels,
repent and master Pari passu.

Adhesive binding, bonding agents,
sticky, clingy, gummy, tacky,
Cohesive windings, wonder patents,
quickie, swinging, chummy, wacky.

Fixed!

poem by Cer Cruz
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Love Is My Believes

Love is eyeless
Love is observed
Love is bitter
Love is nasty
Love is precaution
Love is disinclination
Love is naked
Love is ultimatum
Love is reconciliation
Love is forceful
Love is perfect
Love is cloudy
Love is bulbous
Love is taint
Love is dreamland
Love is perdition
Love is rolling
Love is gummy
Love is precarious
Love is storybook
Love is breakable
Love is flexible
Love is gifted
Love is tense
Love is guiltless
Love is top
Love is poorest
Love is naught
But love is the whole thing
Love is divinity
Love is sprite
Love is evil
Love is outstanding sun
Love is broken moon
Love is gorgeous earth
Love is the foulest worm of earth
Love is down
Love is disturbing
But love is delightful and love is aching strong
Love is alike
Love is moreover

poem by Pride Nkhumise
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Mysteries

All last night I kept speaking in this
archaic language, because I had been reading
Poe and thinking about him. I read 'The Murders
in the Rue Morgue' which is supposedly the first
detective story. Who dun it? I wondered.
It turns out an orangutan was the murderer.
It looks to me like the detective story genre got off
to a pretty ridiculous start. I used to visit
Poe's house in the Bronx. I used to think,
God, Poe must have been a midget. Everything
is so small. Poe died in Baltimore and I can see why.
In Baltimore, all the people are very big and sincere.
During dinner last night, I told Doug and Susan
about 'Murders in the Rue Morgue.' I said I hadn't
finished it yet, but it looked like the murderer
was going to turn out to be an orangutan, unless
the plot took a surprising new twist. Then Doug
suggested that he and I collaborate
on a series of detective stories in which
the murderer is always an orangutan.

[from The Great Indoors, Story Line Press, 1995]
http://www.terencewinch.com

poem by Terence Winch
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Haunting Forevermore

How should I know?
I am not the one to try for treason!

Hide behind lies and distorted histories.
Create your own symbolic dieties.
And still gluttony and your greed,
Will not set you free.

I am not the one to try for treason!

Live high and mighty on the hog of resources,
You have come to hoard.
But those objects and things you have come to adore,
Will become worthless when they rust.
Dripping like a fine slime to ooze on your front door.

I am not the one to try for treason!

And your own thoughts can no longer be trusted.
With those endless hours and days,
You believed would never betray...
To repay,
Those of you who have 'preyed'.

With a knock you can choose to ignore.
If you wish.
Haunting. Haunting. Haunting forevermore.
Inside your mind and this can not be dismissed.
Never again with an assistance like before.

Haunting.
Haunting.
Haunting,
Forevermore!

I am not the one to try for treason!

'Grandpa? Snap out of it!
Are there anymore 'Gummy Bears' left?
Or not?
That's all I asked! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The prisoner is not the one who has commited a crime, but the one who clings to his crime and lives it over and over.

quote by Henry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hate the Thought of Hate Crimes

A crime is a crime no matter how cut it,
A murder is a murder, a rape is a rape,
An assault is what it is,
A crime scene is a crime with the yellow tape.

If the prisons were to be abundant,
We can then send to jail all are convicted,
We don’t have to pardon anyone out overcrowding and time off for good behavior,
We must send all the criminals that indicted,
Guilty as charged that is what should fuel our endeavor.

Are we really up to the cost?
Are we really up to taxation?
Are we saying we have lost?
Are we saying we’ll pass another law,
such as hate crimes,
without a suitable explanation?

(11-20-2007)

poem by Joe Rosochacki
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