My Poems

That Ain’t Right It’s Just So Wrong

It's not good for a person to live so long Everyday I sing this sorrowful song From late at night to the early dawn My brother and sister have long been gone That ain't right, it's just so wrong

They were both much younger then me Can someone put me out of my misery Life is too short, that's what people say Not mine, looks like I'm here to stay That ain't right, it's just so wrong

The other day I heard a motorcycle go by The sound of that engine made me cry I rode a Harley Davidson, candy apple red Ma yelling, get off that thing or you'll end up dead She was wrong, she was just so wrong

In this wheelchair I sit still hanging on Even though I'm old I feel very strong What a crying shame what a pitiful pity Nothing but wrinkled skin that sure ain't pretty That ain't right, it's just so wrong

Guess by now your tired of listening to me Well out of this body I too would like to be free A paradise is at the end just waiting for me I know for a fact because I've been given the key That is right, it's just so right Author Eileen Clark 2023

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My Poems

My Ink Is Drying Up

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My ink is drying up and my pen no longer writes smooth                                                This just can't happen now, to many thoughts I will loose                                      Fading away this old body, still more to write, to be heard                                         My memories and precious images are becoming a bit blurred

My hand shakes, the paper gets wrinkled as I write so fast                                                But I must write quickly while the thoughts in there still last                                       Some verses, as I write I laugh, often things were very funny                                        Then the sad things, my tears make the ink blurred and runny

So pass my writings down to every family child that arrives           Never just store them away in some back room archives                                            May the pages look well read, the corners torn and tattered                                                It will be a way of telling me, to you my poems mattered


Author Eileen Clark

Image ~ tattered pages on a old book of poems – Google Search

google.com

My Poems

Just One Letter

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Just one letter from you that's all I ask  
I know our romance was way in the past
Strong promises you made before you left
A letter each week, you'd give me your best

They said you were among all the missing  
I was told no more, it was a secret mission  
If we had married like you wanted us too  
A family I'd have, but just loneliness I brew

Everyone thinks I'm a foolish old lady 
Possibly even a little bit kinda crazy    
Truth be told life is stranger than fiction
I'm sticking with my one true conviction

Somewhere out there you might still be alive    
With this thought every day is how I thrive                                      From this little piece of land I'll never move     
No better way my eternal love for you I prove

Author Eileen Clark 2023

Image:Dd_141Dianne Dengel by Dianne Dengel

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Just Nice

“Up”

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There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is “UP”

It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP?

At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election? Why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends.

We use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver. We warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car. At other times the little word has real special meaning.

People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special. A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night.

National Look Up at the Sky Day is on April 14

Image: nationaltoday.com

My Poems

My Little Ol’ Cat

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Things look bad around this ol' world Nothin like when I was a little girl Had no problems, was Just a little brat Playing around with my little ol’ cat

I got in trouble for jumping in a puddle Fun improper words I'd sometimes muddle I got a few spankings so on a cushion I sat It didn't matter long as I had my little ol' cat

Author Eileen Clark

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My Poems ~ Others poems

Loyalty & Bought A Dog

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Loyalty

You can't buy loyalty, they say,                                                                                       I bought it though, the other day;                                                                                   You can't buy friendship, tried and true,                                                                Well just the same, I bought that too.

I made my bid, and on the spot                                                                                Bought love and faith and a whole job lot                                                                     Of happiness, so all in all                                                                                                 The purchase price was pretty small.         

I bought a single trusting heart,                                                                                  That gave devotion from the start                                                                                          If you think these things are not for sale,                                                                  Buy a brown-eyed puppy with a stump of a tail.

Author Unknown

Very interesting, I can’t find the author of this poem but it is strangely similar to the verses in my poem.

My Poem
Bought A Dog

Bought a dog a year ago,                                                                                              Thought id' be some company ya know.                                                                    Needed some noise and scuttle in the home,                                                          Wife's been gone and I'm so alone.

Thinking bout the trouble I'm in for,                                                                               Cleaning up the messes on the floor.                                                                           Feeding n' grooming, worming n' shots                                                                      Costing me more then I even gots.

It's been a year now and trouble he be,                                                                                But I got more then that, I got loyalty.                                                                                I got a friend now tried and true,                                                                                                                  Got all that when I bought Billy Blu.

Author Eileen Clark  
My Poem Was written in 1994

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Poems

Forgetter Be Forgotten?

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My forgetter’s getting better
But my rememberer is broke
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke.

For when I’m ‘here’ I’m wondering
If I really should be ‘there’
And, when I try to think it through,
I haven’t got a prayer!

Often times I walk into a room,
Say “what am I here for?”
I wrack my brain, but all in vain
A zero, is my score.

At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Is, generally, me!

When shopping I may see someone,
Say “Hi” and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself, “who was that?”

Yes, my forgetter’s getting better
While my remember is broke,
And it’s driving me plumb crazy
And that isn’t any joke.

James Casey author and poet

Image istockphoto.com

Uncategorized

Cooked Goose

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You know the old saying your goose is cooked
Whenever I hear that I really get shooked
I hear there's some truth to that nasty old saying
I'm valuable because of the many eggs I keep laying

You have to learn how to run really fast
If you don't, how long will your life last
I've learned to do more then just waddle
You'd be smart to use me as a role model

Don't get caught walking around here alone
The inside of a kettle will be your next home
Keep your bill shut, don't utter a honk or quack
If you get noticed it may be your last act

Author Eileen Clark

Image: Found on Pinterest

My Paintings

I Am 82

September 22, 2022October 3, 2022 Eileen Clark14 Comments

Here I am at the ripe old age of eighty-two

Can’t say I’m still standing, that wouldn’t be true

I use a power wheelchair to get myself around

As for my mental state, I think I’m fairly sound

~*~

I need some help in the morning getting out of bed

The caregiver then makes sure my two cats are fed

I eat some eggs or maybe a cheese danish instead

Some scriptures from my Bible next will be read

~*~

It still seems strange not having far to look ahead

It’s not that it wasn’t there right along, often I have said

But now it’s right in front of me, so I should not dread

It’s a fact, eventually everyone of us will end up dead

Author Eileen Clark

Image:google.com

My Paintings

The Old Arm Chair

August 3, 2022August 4, 2022 Eileen Clark4 Comments

I LOVE it, I love it! and who shall dare
To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?
I ’ve treasured it long as a sainted prize,
I ’ve bedewed it with tears, I ’ve embalmed it with sighs.
’T is bound by a thousand bands to my heart;
Not a tie will break, not a link will start;
Would you know the spell?—a mother sat there!
And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair.

Eliza Cook 1818–1889