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Funny Nostalgia Poems | Funny Poems About Nostalgia

These Funny Nostalgia poems are examples of Funny poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Funny Nostalgia poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Its Raining...

                          Its Raining…

God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…

who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again


Details | I do not know? | |

Nasty girl

   There you go again doing things that you are not suppose to be in and then you look at 
me like oh i'm so sweet if you only knew I can be a freak without showing it. Here they 
go listening to the rumors but i'm your friend so in the end I know that they are true. 
How could you do that with him and her and they were on the ground you were pretending to 
pick up gum? You need to be safe, making out with strangers girl I aint no saint but god 
what are you doing? I don't want to see you years from now telling me you got aids, I 
worry about you and I feel like your special so I even wrote about you come on look how 
much you mean to me. You like him I get it but how many other guys have you liked in the 
past. He's your only, he's a phony make sure he's not just in it for the prize because 
girl you never know some guys are. It's the truth and you need to listen, I don't mean to 
sound bossy but soon enough your name is going to be posted on all the bathrooms walls. 
Telling things that you haven't even done yet. But you will front about it, Lie again. 
Telling everyone it's happened how do we know what's real or fake. I love your 
personality I wish I could steal it, Your loud, and flirty, daring and smart girl you got 
too much heart to be showing it to everyone who wants a sip. this is for all the nasty 
girls out there who think I don't know what i'm saying just ask anyone of them who are 
dead now or are on the streets prostitiuting. Don't be afraid to be a freak it's healthy 
but sometimes it's better when it's secret closet freaks have more fun.

Details | Rhyme | |

The 70's

Back in those heavy times when everything was so far out Our words were but a whisper, the mans were but a shout Flower power was spreading, and everything was out of sight Preaching peace through out the days, and gettin our groove on into the night But we were always gettin hassled, by the fuzz, the man, the pigs They didn't want us smokin doobies, and flashin peace signs, can ya dig? Then peace and love had flourished, we needed to get funky and do our thing We needed a place to get our groove on, so the discos were the scene The threads we wore back then were styling, some were off the hook! It's hard to believe with the slim bread we made, we could carry that funky look? Bellbottoms, platform shoes, and jump suits people were a cravin Boogieing away the nights in the discos, where the lights were just a blazin Then the foxy chicks started getting pregoed, and the discos no longer Dyno-mite! Men needed to start makin more bread, and trying to live the family life But gigs weren't easy to find, and life became somewhat of a drag Some of the dudes skipped town, leaving the foxy mamas holding the bag Well thats the skinny of the seventies, the lowdown of peoples ways So keep on truckin all you cool cats and foxy mamas And remember all those ~Freaky, ~Far Out, ~Out Of Sight days
Dan Kearley:1-21-12

Details | Light Poetry | |


This's the world of dreams  and 
Where I think ev'ry that reels,
After a thousands times,
would as same beliefs things 
besought me,
Is it a mere dream? 

Details | Rhyme | |

Kilroy Was Here

There was an elusive little guy often espied during World War Two,
And who he was and whence he came no one ever really knew!
He was a bald headed little feller with a very prominent nose,
And he always left the message "Kilroy Was Here" in very stilted prose!

You seldom saw his eyes and his hands were clinging to a wall.
Many G.I.s saw him in latrine stalls and in their greasy dining hall!
His origin and parting message are debated to this very day,
And no one has ever nabbed the graffiti artists who always slunk away!

He was portrayed in cruisers, battleships and even on submarines!
Kilroy's portrait was tattooed on the chests of a few diehard Marines!
'Tis said Hitler saw "Kilroy Was Here" and wondered what it meant,
Thinking it a secret code when found on American accouterment!

Kilroy became as famous as the mysterious smile on the Mona Lisa.
(I even saw his mug when I climbed to the top of the Tower of Pisa!)
Rosie the Riveter may have been guilty, if the truth were told,
Of tracing Kilroy's image on bombers, including the bomb bay hold!

Well, 'tis for sure we couldn't have won the war without the little guy!
Kilroy's antics lifted morale at home and overseas, that you can't deny!
But you haven't seen the last of him, for he is forever etched in history,
On the World War Two Monument in DC - how he got there is a mystery!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

For those a tad younger who may have never heard of Kilroy, go to your search
and type in "Kilroy Was Here" and click the Wikipedia notation and you will learn
more than you ever wanted to know about him!

Details | Epitaph | |


Wish I could have taken better 
Care of my body... 
Wish they could have stopped 
the cancer sooner... 

I'm just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 

If I had my way, I'd pick another church. 
At least one that spelled my name right 
On the obituary. 

I wonder if they knew, 
That I truly loved Sonya, 
but married Adele out of convenience. 

Wish I could have told my brother, Kenny 
I forgive him, maybe he wouldnt cry so hard. 
Wish I could tell Aunt May that hat is too big. 
I wonder if Tara knows the deacons 
Are looking up her dress. 

Im just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 

I wonder if the choir knows 
How much I really hate that song... 
Hope they know the Pastor's lying. 
I was not that good of a man.. 

That suit is not the one I would have picked. 
My body looks so much smaller, 
and that make-up makes me look too light. 

Im just a spirit now, 
Floating over my own funeral. 
Free from pain, free from it all. 

Wonder if they know, 
In spite of my short time on this earth...
i truly enjoyed it.
I truly loved it all.

Details | Rhyme | |

Granddads Book

In my quiet times I often try,
To remember places I've been.
To recall folk I have passed by,
And sights that I have seen.

There is nothing wrong with my mind,
Sometimes my memory is quite refined.
I think it's filled over many a year,
With so much junk, nothing seems clear.

So, I made up my mind to write it all down,
To recall it all caused me to frown
It started like I was in the dark,
A memory flared, I was in the park.

That day in the park was just the lever,
I found my mind was as good as ever.
Tho' times and places got out of line,
I wrote it all down, now wasn't I clever!

I'm nearly at the end of my story,
A journey I'm glad that I took.
For my grandsons to read in years to come,
I'll call it Granddads Book.

© Dave Timperley 2012.

Details | Rhyme | |


Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum,
you should have seen me how it made me slightly drunk;
and jumping and screaming I danced to the beats of a drum...
then grandma joined in and she sang a classical song!

And the sweet cream was on my lips and cheeks, 
the Babba' al Rhum was delicious and I topped it with chocolate;
everybody began shouting, "It came from Paris,
but we Neapolitans reinvented it by improving its shape and taste!"

Mamma Anna made the best Babba' al Rhum, soaking it in that liqueur much longer;
and Papa' always told me to eat more of it...saying with a suppressing laughter,
"It's a man's dessert, after you eat it, you'll be strong!"
Oh, did he really tell me the truth? No, he was wrong!

It's so very sad that they aren't here,
and I am eating pretzels and drink a beer,
the harmony that stirred their passion can't possibly return...
as they danced on the terrace to celebrate the day I was born!

Mamma Anna knew how to make the best Babba' al Rhum,
and I licked the dripping rum with my finger...not my tongue!
She spoke calmly...when she should have gotten mad and picked up a broom;
no, she was never mean and rude, or ever said to me, " Go to your room!"

Details | Blank verse | |

Love Song

Here’s what I’m thinking now 
at the end of the world: 

There are no atheists in foxholes— 
no theists in politics. 
If knowledge is power, 
and power corrupts, 
then why did I bother reading you, Cicero? 

Does it matter that I didn't’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

There’s a poetry reading tonight 
whence I’I'll chide other poets 
who don’t sit alone. 
I won’t bring up death 
but I might have to breathe, 
even into a mike 
and mouth lines to get a snap or a boo 
maybe even a wince or two. 

Just maybe I’I'll talk about love 
and how following your heart is like following a dog— 
it only leads to vittles and (female dogs). 
But how many times have I used that line 
since the story I wrote about you, 
a witty and sexy and fictional you? 
Most likely I’I'll read something tonight about you. 

I won’t recite it from memory 
because I don’t think about you that much anymore, 
not even when I search for my socks in your drawer 
or when I put on the scratchy sweaters you give me, 
horizontally striped to bring out my eyes? 

I don’t remember your eyes 
except they are blue. 
And I don’t remember you, 
not even when I smell cucumber and apple, 
not even when I sleep on my side of the bed 
or when you walk through the door 
happy to see me; 
even then I don’t remember you. 
Does it matter that I don’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

How about a few one-liners 
for the end of days?— 

Depression is self-awareness, 
which you’d know if you were; 
I need Ritalin to listen to you, 
Lithium to hug you, 
Viagra to feel you, 
and Valium to sleep. 

All you need 
is me standing there, waiting at home 
with turns of phrase and word plays 
telling you about why I hate Ayn Rand 
but want to buy as much as I can 
and how I love celebrity gossip 
and detest poetry slams 
and find rhyming trite 
except when I am. 

Hypocrites can still be right, 
which you do understand 
because you nod at my nonsense 
about fighting the man. 

But now, at the end of all things— 
I’m speechless and witless and pointlessly well-read, 
and you’re just sitting there, smiling 
asking me to pass the bread.

Details | Couplet | |

Mother's Wisdom

We nurture them within our bodies, birth them in a blinding pain,
suckle them on breasts so swollen, till we think we’ll go insane.

We kiss away each painful boo-boo, bandage each and every wound,
show them that in spite of roundness, peas can stay upon their spoons.

We intercept their nostril’s flowing, be it green or white as snow,
wiping gently ever hoping, for the day they’d learn to blow.

We give to them each ounce of wisdom, try to teach them everything,
suddenly, for unknown reasons, screw it up and give them wings.

We mourn a bit, those cherished moments, when on us they did depend,
days when we were super heroes, possessing wisdom without end.

We watch the journey proudly knowing, as they soar into the light,
Mother’s wisdom, though not perfect, lends the wind that gives them flight.

Details | Light Poetry | |


valse,valet a,highland fling
viola,fiddle,music string;
minuet,pavane rondeau
tripping lightly to & fro.

flirty dancing,fancy free
quick-step and ladies excuse-me;
fox trot and last waltz slow,
holding close,as passions grow.

Details | Quatrain | |

The Child in Me

Soda pop and gum drops
A river full, so sweet
To be that child I once was
All that candy, I would eat

Not worry about a cavity,
the dentist or my skin
Just concerned with getting more
And filling it within

A jawbreaker, some nonpareils
Bazookas and candy dots
Sour apples and baby ruths
Oh I love it all a lot

Details | Free verse | |

Those Were The Days

                                     Rebuilding America 
                                     My little Jenny and me
                                     Remembering a time
                                     When Laurel And Hardy
                                     Brought such classics to T.V
                                     My Jenny asked mom can you see me
                                     Just cruising home in a big jelopy
                                     With my Feathered Friend Buddy
                                     Perched on my shoulder and you Yelling
                                     Smile Your On Candid Camera
                                     That had to be such a Jungle Fever back then
                                     Think  I liked it better When you used to sing to me
                                                 That  I'm A Big Girl Now 

Just Putzing Around here
with my last 10 poems
But Love to watch 
Old Classic comedies on T.V. with Jenny
And Trying To explain  to her about Cinema

Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.

Details | Rhyme | |

Went Fishin'

Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest

Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.

A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.

My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.

He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”

He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip 
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”

While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”

As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on.  My hands were steady.

Yellow with black dots and a weed guard. 
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.

As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.

So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!  
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”

When the Bass broke water, it scared me. 
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook!  Set the hook!”

When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.

My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.

“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez.  Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed, 
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”

He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready.  This is the part that’s great.

I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”

Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.

My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”

“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”

“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…

but for the great stories we get.” 

I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.

You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.

They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”

Details | Rhyme | |

Cruisin' the Drag

Sipping cherry limeade, driving in the car parade, 
We're cruising in the Lone Star state
Didn't want a bucket seat; the thing it couldn't beat, 
Was sitting up close to your date
One hand on the wheel of daddy’s Oldsmobile, 
My arm around my brown-eyed girl
Feeling pretty sporty, radio on top forty, 
I was cooler than the Duke of Earl

The lady of the cruise had her penny loafer shoes, 
Her bobby socks were turned down twice
With a little eyeliner, she couldn't be much finer
Too much and it wouldn't be nice
There’d be no wild oats under those petticoats
She’d never go all the way
Just a perfect flip-up 'do and cute look number two
Practiced in the mirror all day

Hear those tires squeal when I make the rubber peel
For the flyboys waiting on the bus
To take them to the base where they don't feel out of place
Not cruising like the rest of us
I was the drag's head honcho as we pulled across the Concho
And we saw the lights along the riverside
We'd had quite a lark at Neff's amusement park
Playing putt-putt and going on a ride

The cheerleader squad rode a killer hot rod
With a spinner on every rim
A perfect tuck and pleat on every single seat 
Courtesy of Wanda's Auto Trim
Candy apple red, it would really knock you dead
It was a drop-top Pontiac
One was there to steer and three were in the rear
Posing up on the back

Those football beauty queens in their skin-tight Levi jeans
Were followed by their biggest fan
Checking out those lasses in his Buddy Holly glasses 
Was the nerdy little Aqua Velva man
In his stainless steel braces he grinned up at their faces
They iced him with a haughty air
He never would forget it; they would later on regret it
When he became a multi-millionaire

A four girl bevy in a big finned Chevy 
Were riding west on Sherwood Way
Four guys right behind in a pick-up state of mind
All ready to make their play
Thought they were the smartest cruising pick-up artists
But those gals were pretty astute
When they stopped and the guys started telling all their lies
The chicks started putting on the cute

We turned the car around and headed back downtown
Cruising down the boulevard 
Stay cool daddio, bear right at El Patio
And take it down Beauregard
There were lots of pleated skirts and those button-down shirts
The flattops were everywhere galore
From a Lincoln Continental, we heard an instrumental
Mister Acker Bilk's “Stranger on the Shore”

We slowly pulled through BJ’s, listening to the deejay’s 
Announcement of the next hit song
Leaning on their doors with their Brylcreem pompadours
Two hoods were playing Mr. Wrong
Completing their disguise, they slouched with narrowed eyes
And did their best at looking mean
With a twist of his pelvis, one was doing Elvis
The other did a fine James Dean

Like a sweet potato vine, the bride of Frankenstein 
Was entwined around the Marlboro man
With the passion of their make out, they should have gotten takeout 
And opted for a bigger floor plan
With her big black beehive hair and his fancy western wear
They were putting on quite an awesome scene
I had to give a chuckle at his huge silver buckle
But those M.L. Leddy boots looked mighty keen

I pulled the Olds on through, and we bid BJ’s adieu
And I put us back onto the street
With those four whitewall tires, we made for McIntire's
To get ourselves a bite to eat
We stopped for some fuel, over near the school
In those days they came right out to you
Best place on Earth, ‘cause with a dollar’s worth
They’d check your oil and clean your window too

The drive-in, painted green, was quite the social scene
With people mingling car to car
Everyone was caring; the drinks they were for sharing
Especially when they were in a mason jar
She ate a big banana split, and then left me for a bit
To comfort an old friend not feeling right
A moment more to linger with that final steak finger
Then I took her home and called that one a night

That was many years ago, but some things you don’t outgrow
And I think back to when I was a teen
When doors were left unlocked, and children safely flocked
Unchaparoned at night on Halloween
And sometimes at night, when the stars are big and bright
And I’m deep in a Texas state of mind
I think of that lass who was in my high school class
And I wonder if she thinks of me in kind

August 10, 2012

Details | Free verse | |

School day hell

They called it school
I called it hell 
From the huge imposing prison like doors
To the doom like toll of the bell
Everyday the same
Running for the school bus
Full of uncivilized Wild kids
Being pushed and shoved
Countless kids in uniform
Fearing the teachers and the day they were born
Satchel bags and lucky bags
Late for lessons again 
Going to the headmasters office 
For the cane ooh how my bum was in pain
Teacher at the blackboard
Pupils getting bored thinking about girls
Motorbikes and cars
Playing football in the yard
Playing sports in skirts and shorts
The one too big that moma bought
School desks fountain pens and ink
Boy how some of my classmates did stink
Trying to blow up the science lab
Bubbly gum and sherbert dabs
Giggling girls and bashful boys
Girls jutting out everywhere
Pigtails and ribbon on their hair
Always getting into a fight
Going home with a torn blazer and black eye every night
Lots of kisses on my homework
Rolling about in the dirt
Pouring ink into the headmasters aquarium
Holes in your trouser bum
Crafty cigarette hidden behind a wall
Morning assembly in the hall
School dinners you couldn't pick
Forced down your throat and made you sick
Being punished and kept behind doing lines
I must have wrote 'I must be good' a million times
Frog spawn put into teachers bag
Gas taps left on in the lab
The school nurse giving you a jab
Riot breaks out in class Running a race on sports day and coming last
Pea shooter and catapult Pulling your tongue out and being rude to adults
First love and nervous thumbled kiss
Girls with new sticky out bits
Hair growing in places it didn't before
Limbs aching and so sore
Always in trouble up to no good playing truant in the wood
Letting the tiers down on the headmasters car
Girls wearing training bra's
Exams were such a sham but wrote the answers under the bandage on my 
hand Teachers talking about things I didn't understand
What a waste of time I was going to be a pop star and soon a man
Those daydreams  of youth that still remain aloof
Hiding in the bushes watching  girls playing hockey and net ball on the field
I still recall how that used to feel
Long school summer holidays away from hell
School books thrown down the well
Then back to school again to days of terror
And pain up early facing hell.

Peter Dome,copyright.2014. July.

Details | Crystalline | |

snow flake

summer snowflake...
the ice cream man

Details | Narrative | |

A Quiet Exit

A Quiet Exit

Poetry is disciplined

However, sometimes at the executive table
when a situation is not going according to plans
It's better to excuse yourself because of evil man

however, before leaving, relief a quiet fart
then make the exit,  gracefully glance
 over your  shoulder and smile
watch and observed who sense your present.

Ladies and Gentlemen have a wonderful day!

Details | Triolet | |

Falling Snow

Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing
Sometimes they start snowballing
Outside the snow is falling
“Dinner is served”, their Mom is calling
The children don’t hear what she’s saying
Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing!

Details | Light Poetry | |

Sunday Dinner with Mama-in-Law

I wouldn't mind sharin'
With Wilda H. Perrin
A fried chicken section
She burnt to perfection

White beans from the navy
Gummy rice with gravy
Green beans smothered down
Until they turn brown

Fussin' and complainin'
"I love you", she's sayin'
By moanin' and bitchin'
And cleaning the kitchen...

*She always forgot to check the chicken, usually setting off the smoke alarm...If 
anyone DARED to rush in and help she would retort, "Who's the cook here 
anyway? Open the damn door!"

Details | Ballad | |

We Thank You, Pikachu

From our earliest times to the most recent of our days,

We've grown with pokemon, and we've learned their ways,

We've learned the evolutions, the special attacks,

We've learned what pokemon hide in tall grass,

We've learned the weaknesses and the advantages of them all,

We've learned a lot from our friends in a poke-ball,

We've battled hard against Team Rocket, Team Plasma, Team Aqua and Magma,

We've seen the impossible and defeated the improbable,

We've grown in a way that's practically inseparable,

Through the duels, and gym battles galore,

We've learned the companionship of a friend and more,

For this we look through the trees of Veridian forest,

And give thanks to our pokemon friends for enduring this life-long quest,

To be the best, surpass the rest, and grow together as a team,

To have our friends by our side and become the supreme,

For this we tip our hats, to these special pals our ours,

For standing by our side as we travel through towns, voyage the sea, and climb Spirit Tower,

Through thick and thin, we have a friendship no Vine Whip could damage,

And no matter the course, our pokemon seem to manage,

This is why, I suppose we all do, we grow strong with our friends by our side,

Cause no matter the challenge, our dear friends are along for the ride,

So no matter the game; be it blue,red,silver or white,

With pokemon at our side, the adventure is twice as bright.

Details | Senryu | |


Buffalo Bob asked
of summer…fall winterspring
did Howdy do ya

*My season is Summer.   For the seasons senryu contest with regards to Howdy Doody and 

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?

Details | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman

Details | Clerihew | |

Don't Tell Bones

Star Trek officer Mr. Spock
simply couldn't find his sock
which he had just overlooked
but don't tell Bones Spock's goose was cooked!

Details | Free verse | |

Last Bell.....

Man, I remember the thrumming of that last bell of the school year.....
Like a prisoner being furloughed into the warm sun, buzzing of grasshoppers.
Field stickers burrowing into your ankles, joyfully, while you take the wrong way/long way 
The sound of whispering gold as your armplane wings dislodge future assaulters of ankles.
I always liked sighs in the summer.....those sweet drones were the tones of freedom.
In the distance you hear Shirley scream as Brad tells EVERYBODY she likes Ralph...
You knew you should be gettin' home, but, confound it, this one brief moment was yours. 
There was a sound, like a shell to the ear, of all you had learned, escaping as if under 
To thwart it was to stop a tsunami with an umbrella.....ineffectual....unnoticed.
But, also vacant, was common sense; probably why I went Jake's way that day....
Oh, he was there, lurking...lying in wait for my almost clock-work arrival.
Many a day I had screamed a million insults at him as he chased me like Satan,
Hoping "today" wasn't the day he caught up with me.
His exhalations never sounded labored, as if he was letting me get ahead.....
But not today!!!!!.....I JUMP......He LUNGES......and his teeth gain purchase on my seat!!!!
However, I escape....My bottom, that much cooler than it was before and will probably be 
Home.......... you see mom in the kitchen, drinking sun tea and waiting for you to arrive....
"So, How was school?"..."Uh, fine, I guess."     "What did you learn today?"......."Uh, to never 
underestimate the value of Gym Class!!"......"Well," she says, "if you took home economics, 
you'd be able to fix up your pants before Dad gets home and sees your underwear!!"......

Parents NEVER respect an Adventurer's near-fatal exploits!!!

Details | Dizain | |

Reflection's Changed A Bit

           "Reflection's Changed A Bit"

No racked babe, but I've had no cut and paste!
     Like young casabas up front and still 'kewl'!
          F i n e 'Brick House' (...'more than a mouthful's a waste')!
               Arse compared to a 'forty-dollar mule'
                    With a swing exemplifying my rule!
                         Each lavender curve, smooth as South Sea Pearls
                              Enveloped by trellising golden curls.
                                   Body and English, my lingoes in Lit.
                                         And tough guys still stammer, week-kneed with whirls.
                                              Mirror's the same... 
                                                                           reflection's changed a bit.*

~by deborah burch©

Details | Free verse | |

The party line

One long ring; that is for me
One long and one short, Mrs. McGee

Two long rings for the farmer Scholl
As the phone would ring a distinctive toll

Down the road on a line of eight
As the bell would ring we all would wait

One would answer; three would listen in
That is the way it was on a party line back then

Details | Rhyme | |

A 3 HOUR TOUR--Right here on Gilligan's Island---

Our love is like Gilligan's Island
but what we have is so much more
And to all the girls that I've loved before
they are but Brady Bunches on three hour tours

Cheers to the ladies on that Island 
but you're my "Mary-Ann" and my "Movie Star"
come take my hand-in-hand, with candy tan 
you're the best of both worlds,  but much better by far

I have "Profess"ed to be your "Skipper"
tho' I'm "Thurston" for you like I do Mrs. Howell,
when you "Lovey" dove me with coconuts,
I can't help but go nuts, NOW GET ME A TOWEL!~~


NAME= JSLambert
*Note: this Rhyme was written as a love letter-ish type of thang:) I hope ya' don't mind the weirdness of it all~:)JSL

Details | Carpe Diem | |


Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.

Details | Rhyme | |

Jerry And Tom

Jerry was running from Tom
The day it all went down
A mouse had the upper hand
And one cat wore a frown

On a quest with his mallet
As good as being in dark
That mouse was hard to get
Evading without one mark

Things were good for Jerry
He could always run away
Tom did what he always did
Plan for yet another day

Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”

Details | Limerick | |

Deadliest Catch

Grandpa was a jolly old winker.
And I was a nine year old stinker.
He was a fish getter
But I did him one better...
I caught Grandpa... hook, line, and sinker!

Details | Limerick | |

The Further Adventures Of Mr. Laurel And Mr. Hardy.

Stanleys' plane circles wild, fro and aft.
Ollie screamed up: " Throw me a raft!"    Oh Ho Oh Ho Oh Ho Oh Ho.
with gathering gators
I won't be here later
One just gave my drawers a big draft.  OhhhOhhh....

When they opened the gator to see
which intestine poor Ollie might be.
He plops out pratfall
then looks at us all
and smiles: " hm hm hm, I'm still me."

Stanley: " But I thought.. I thought you were eaten..oo whooo whoo whoo..."
Oliver looks at us, shrugs  and throws his arms up.
( Cue music.)
Coo Coo  Coo Coo, Coo Coo 


This is inspired by Miss Carrie Richards, one of the best. 
This Is Another Fine Mess You've Gotten ME Into, Stanley...

Details | Lyric | |

Sky Rockets In Flight, Unicorn's Delight

The origin of the unicorn begin's in
A time and habitat where we did not live in
In Another Galaxy it could have been in
Or in an unexplored magical dimension

It was a land overflowing with milk and honey
Pure and abundant was it's skillful offspring
Enchanted with a forest that lulls you to sleep
With it's down reaching hum stemming from the trees
The little creatures were cordial and could speak
The streams of life were the preachers of the peace
The fireflies dancing a mild ballet at night
Would arouse even the most dormant soul to sing 
But it was unicorns that governed the land
and so to say put everything under one's wing

A unicorn was considered the horse of the God's
It had the chiseled structure of a steeled spartan
It's horn holstered the power of a lighting rod
Sporting a mane as majestic as a mountain and
When it bucked on its hoofs the earth stood still in awe

They spent years on this planet protecting our spot
Behind the scenes in old men's wars they fought
But it was in the hidden rainbows with gold pots
Where their undisturbed and placid image was copped

Now its unfortunate we do not seem them nowadays
mainly because they did not embark on noah's ark
and all the CO-2 in the atmosphere we sprayed
means their world no longer remains and
Now their remains are just horses with no horns
and no potential to fly, so all they do is eat hay, ride and race
and when they die we just assume to make them into glue
JK! Happy Birthday!
* P.D. Unicorn Poem contest

Details | Limerick | |


I raised an Australian dingo,
no name came to mind but Ringo;
he jumped on me,
ripped my clothes daily...
it costed me plenty of money!

Only once I left him alone;
good grief... my furniture was torn!
Oh, should I be mad...
or be kind instead?
I'll sleep over it for tonight!

All Ringo did was run, bark and howl,
mistaking a small cat for an owl;
They took him away
to the zoo today;
he'll whimper form his cage, not rest!

I'll take him back, lest he behaves;
his lesson he'll learn:  good manners!
Now, Ringo just stares
to earn forgiveness...
it's fun to play with him and laugh!

Details | Verse | |

Single Kisses

Focused on you, a wild demons stare
 With a motion it happens
 A emotion flattens
 As you fall beneath a demons glare
He notices most things that happen
 Might even pick the clothes you wear
 Believe it or not he really does care
 Knows whats best and helps me get there
To perfection the performance blacken when he's scared
 Things fall apart if he's not helping me be prepaired
 Guidence and experience for me his mare
 Sometimes I wonder what it would be like without a demon here
He loves positive reactions with greatness and flair
 And how people love me after he dares
 Carefully he holds me through a very small tear
 Me I guess I am getting used to, just hangin round rare 

Details | Lyric | |

The Unhappy Moth

She chose a red scarf. The most red 
of them all.
Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color,
just as wine.

She carved from the red scarf
from the middle
to the size of a Martini glass.

Then she carved one more glass,
and she kept carving 
till she fell asleep.

she saw her Beloved Moth 
flirting with a Younger Moth, 
carving together from a sweater
while she was getting busy,
carving in the shelves.

The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine
woolen wine, 
last night.
She drank lots, too much
for a Moth.
The Unhappy Moth got drunk
and fell asleep
on the red scarf,
with a heart filled with peace.

She was not afraid no more. 
Now she could be seen easily,
laying on the scarf
and easily crushed.

The Unhappy Moth was not 
afraid of death no more,
at least, now she knew 
how wonderful the red scarfs are
and that they taste
like red wine.

Details | Couplet | |

ABCs of TV Shows

A is for Alf alien life form
B is for Bay Watch women with form

C is for Cops reality’s top show
D is for Dear John a real funny show

E is for Emergency the Adam-12 off fireman drama
F is for F-Troop mom Larry Stork gave laughter to Mama.

G is for Gilligan’s Island much more than a three hour tour
H is for Hot L Baltimore which ran with any cure

I is for I Love Lucy a Lucile ball classic
J is for Johnny Bravo makes me sick

K is for Knight Rider a talking car
L is for Land of The Lost they went far

M is for MASH funny with sadness
N is for Nancy Drew solved crimes with gladness

O is for Office a Scranton’s favorite
P is for Police Story to me it was so right

Q is for Quincy another Klugman’s best
R is for Room 222 when it was on I’ll rest

S is for Starsky and Hutch cop show full of action
T is for Today’s FBI modern with satisfaction

U is for Ultra Man fighting monsters I was loving it
V is for V another alien invasion which I seen it

W is for Walking Tall Buford Pusser made this more than another cop show
X is for X-men a Saturday morning cartoon Wolverine is my hero

Y is for Young and the Restless never watched this soap
Z is for Zoom was a PBS show guess it ran out of rope

Details | Couplet | |

Writer's Block

You know what I hate about writer’s block,
How my creativity is hidden behind a lock;

Time ticks away as I stare at my screen,
My heart beating faster from the strain of caffeine;

The cursor flashing lulls me to doze,
Til a fly lands smack on the tip of my nose;

I swing at the fly and glance at the clock,
How did 10 AM turn into 5 O’clock;

I stand and I stretch and then walk away,
And say goodbye to another wasted day;

Maybe tomorrow will inspire my brain,
Or I could be slowly going insane…

Details | Rhyme | |

Geek Mountain

It started quite some time ago
His name was Pitfall Harry
I learned of bits and algorithms
On a 2600 Atari

And then there came Nintendo
It began my end I think
For I had to rescue Princess Zelda
As a courageous lad named Link

I peered at that screen for hours
Each puzzle, each riddle, each stage
And Gannon was no match for me
My frenzied button rage

The torch then passed to Genesis
And with it Altered Beast
Addicted to those graphics
My life outside had ceased

Compulsion soon would fade
I slowly began to bore
Then Sony created the gamers dream
To brilliant to ignore

Dazzled bye amazing play
lost for a year or two
Acting as an exercise scarecrow
And girl repellant too

So now I have no gaming system
But it seems that my PC
Is the summit of Geek Mountain
And that's where you'll find me.
That last line written years ago
Such games are no longer fun
For Im filled with glee and happy to be
Reaquainted with the sun

Details | Rhyme | |

Ice-Cream Baseball

 As a new father I coached my little league son
 He was clumsy and uncoordinated
 Picked dandelions in the outfield
 Watched bumble bees fly and hum
Would run to a grounder and watch it stop
pick it up to throw it but it would drop
He enjoyed his team mates for they were friends 
He struck out more than hitting the ball
Funny thing was he would always run whether he did or not
How I wanted him to hit the ball so hard 
Perhaps a grand- slam homerun for him and my heart
But the greatness was in him- he was part of the team 
 His greatest joy was afterwards
When we’d all go get ice-cream

Details | Haiku | |

a peacock appears

sitting by myself
singing opera in the woods—
a peacock appears

© February 15, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

HERE'S THE STORY SINCE THIS IS based on a true story! LOL I was in the woods 
singing...pretending I could sing opera while resting on a bench...all by myself. And what to 
my wondering eyes should appear walking around with my free range chickens? You 
guessed it! A peacock! He must have thought I was a peahen. Later, we found out he 
lived several miles away and had left home for few days...he stayed here until I left for 
Texas, which was about 3 days. He must have loved my voice! OR RUNNING THE ROOSTER! 
lol Anyway, that was the inspiration for this haiku! Would anyone have guessed? lol

Details | Dodoitsu | |

One Step Forward, Two Back

Spelling a thing of the past, Thank-you cards will disappear, Cursive writing will be lost, No more postal mail. Phone conversations are gone, All temples of worship close, Libraries lock their front doors, No more paper books. Good news for Craig Ferguson, Entertainer - Late, Late show, The all new Johnny Carson, No more Jay Leno. Written by Lee Ramage September 7, 2011 For Linda-Marie’s Contest “Crystal Ball” Placed 7th

Details | Rhyme | |

Green Acres

A law firm partner living on Madison Avenue
bought a farm in the country.  What a strange thing to do!
Oliver Wendell Douglas and Hungarian-born wife,
would head for Hooterville to start a new life.
Oliver and Lisa moved from their high-rise penthouse,
to a ramshackle farm with a dilapidated house.
Oliver wanted to leave New York City and Times Square,
to live in the country with chores to do, and fresh air.
To be dragged from New York, to a life that is bucolic,
became disastrous to wife Lisa, and quite tragic.
However, she held her husband Oliver very dear.
In this new life, poor Lisa had to persevere.

Douglas bought this farm from a crook named Mr. Haney.
Haney kept trying something new to get more money.
Oliver deals with the absent-minded Mr. Kimball.
He has a scatterbrained farmhand named Eb, but that’s not all.
Oliver climbs a telephone pole to make a phone call.
Neighbors Fred and Doris Ziffel have a pig named Arnold.
All except Oliver knows what Arnold has told.
Our Oliver would get himself into jams constantly.
All these things combine to make a great comedy.

Not for the contest

Details | Rhyme | |

Full House

Naughty little brother hitting people just for fun,
Soppy little sister snuggles up to harassed mum,
While other sister Lesley thinks she’s in a royal court,
And “Ten Ton Tim” throws the tennis balls he’s bought,
One hits little Lesley on the head with quite a force,
She storms off to her room, in a nark again of course,
She slams the door behind her once she’s made her way upstairs,
And then there’s the twins, I know that trouble comes in pairs,
Michael’s riding Richard with his undies on his head,
While Craig from down the road is wearing swimming trunks instead,
“Ten Ton Tim” then offers the other boys a fight,
One which probably won’t finish until very late at night
“You and Craig onto me!”; a tempting offer to the boys,
Who start to rush towards him brandishing their army-toys,
Lesley reappears from the dark behind the door,
Intending not carry on moaning any more,
Dad is quite sensible at stays at work ‘til dark,
I think it’s more crowded here than in Noah’s Ark.
Mother calls for quite but the noise just carries on,
‘Til Craig suggests they go to his and then the rabble’s gone!

(Written at the age of 9 or 10)

Details | Elegy | |

Toonami I Miss You So

Once, something we took for granted
Now gone, forever to be mourned.
My source of awesome anime has been transplanted.
Cartoon Network, you face an enemy scorned!

Though it's been so long I still miss it. RIP Tom.

Details | Light Poetry | |

Halloween Horror

Gobblins and ghosts flew by last night 
They woke me up with a terrible fright 
Chasing monsters and gouls away from the lights 
I wish someone would teach them to stay out of site   

But all the ghosts were by the gobblins sides
 The witches were taking them all out for rides
 From roof to tree to street
 A big race to see who could be beat
They were all so noisey it made Frankeinstein hide
 And those witches never drive down the street on just on side
 They just switch lanes while in flight
 Left then Right then left then right
 Back, forth, left, right, never deciding on just one dive
 Up down, zig zag.. zoosh 
Looking out my bedroom window even made my sides moosh 

Details | Haiku | |

Last Minute Halloween Costume

Last Minute Halloween Costume
Toilet paper wraps;
Costs less to dress as mummy,
Mom thinks it’s funny!

Details | Bio | |

Isch-ca-dut-a All The Way

ISH-CA-DUTA mean's that I just don't know...

*******People Spell to Literally******

i dnt hve aaa spl=cke
I din't kno wht tu du a
So iF u can read ths msg
Thn u neeed an spel-Ck-Tu-a



Details | I do not know? | |

Under my 8 year old Brothers Bed

Under my 8 year old brothers bed
lies my dog chewed Barbie, no sign of her head
a faded Snoopy cartoon, deflated yellow Birthday balloon
and one stuffed zoo animal baboon
Romote toy car from Uncle Tom
Cassette of Raffi, sing-a-long songs
half a fruit roll-up, and a beat up
tonka truck

A wooden dream catcher, made in Summer camp
his moon and star shaped night lamp
one lonely brown button from his Winter coat
A crumpled crayon castle drawing, complete with
an alligator filled moat
A real rabbits foot, for luck, from Grandpa Mack
half a fourth of July sparkler, old fashioned box of jacks
glass jelly jars of grass, sticks, leaves, assorted bugs
science fair worm farm living in moms old Garden jug

Under my 8 year old brothers bed
it has to be said, if you find yourself lost 
beneath it
you are as good
as dead!

Details | Light Poetry | |

Lazy Sun

Dawn breaks, With a filmy twist; As Mr Sun, cries to the chirping birdies, "Five more minutes...please!"

Details | Limerick | |

My Gold Ford Maverick

My first car was a Maverick ... like me !

   With a fresh paint job, beautiful to see.

        I passed my driver's test,

            So full of youthful zest,

                 Then backed into a pole I didn't see.

                         ~~~~~            ~~~~~
see "about this poem" for photo

* true story: one hour after passing my driver's test I jumped into
the car and bumped into a pole backing out of my parking space, marring 
the brand new paint job.

for Carol Brown's "My First Car" contest
Francine Roberts 06/03/2012

Details | Clerihew | |


Sophia Loren,
the sexy Neapolitan,
drove all men crazy except me, I believe;
then I was in my early teens: a boy so naive.

Details | Quatrain | |

Long Live Love

A toss of the head
A flick of her hair
The wave of her hand
As her beauty did flare
Her bountiful step
The spring in her stride
Her laugh as we waked 
Hand in hand through the tide
Her mouth with its smile
As we wrote in the sand
Her cries of frustration
As sea coated the land
Those little I love yous
Meant so much back then
That on annual vacations
We repeat them again
For least we forget 
In the daily ado
Our marrital vows
Mean forever I do

Details | Rhyme | |

NP Dinging Seatbelt

What is it about seatbelts,
That cowboys find so bad,
And the worst offender of them all,
Would have to be my dad;

He leaves his belt unbuckled,
And it makes an awful ding,
What is so dang hard about,
Buckling the up the thing;

It dings and dings the whole dang drive, 
Music can’t drown it out,
If you’ve heard that annoying buzz,
You’ll know what I’m talking about;

All it takes is a second, 
Just buckle it and it’s through,
So pray that horrible annoyance,
Never happens to you!

Details | Rhyme | |

My FAVORITE Classic TV Show

My Favorite Classic T.V. Show A classic t.v. show that I thought was fun and silly. Was one I watched as a child: “The Beverly Hillbillies.” There was Jed. Granny. Jethro and Elly May too. You just didn’t know what these folks were going to do! Granny would offer possum pie or some “vittles.” There was no tellin’ what she was fixin’ in her griddle! This family would “dance a jig.” Or even “sing a song. And then they would all gather around “the cement pond.” It didn’t seem to matter what was served on the dinner plate. Ole Jethro would never get full. No matter how much he ate! Elly loved to have her many animals in the home. No matter where she went. She was never alone! This Clampett family brought joy through our t.v. I still watch this show. But just occasionally. This classic show is from a time in the past. But it still brings good memories that will always last! By Jim Pemberton "The Beverly Hillbillies"

Details | Lyric | |

Chief Goat! (For Emman)

Hey Hey! 
Who's the greatest goat of all?
Hey Hey!
Who stands over six feet tall?
Oh Oh!
Who's the biggest, buffest dude?
Oh Oh!
Who has grass as favorite food?

Hey, hail Chief Goat!
Chief Goat he's the one!
All hail Chief Goat!
'Cause he's a lot of fun!

Hey Hey!
Who's the goat that plays football?
Hey Hey!
Who goes running for that ball?
Oh Oh!
Who can't help but win this game?
Oh Oh?
It's Emman the one and same!

Hey, hail Chief Goat!
Chief Goat's super fast
All hail Chief Goat!
'Cause he sure ain't the last!


We love you Emman!

Details | Free verse | |

The sprung

The spring has sprung
And oohh - my back aches
I need a new mattress

© Brenda V Northeast 28th March 2012

Details | Alliteration | |

Firecrackers (Alliterations)

In a pick pack boom a wonderful light in the sky
Beaming gleaming screaming people out in the street
Watching the parade of light danced, glanced tranced
Happy sappy snappy to watch the firecrackers so beautifully
Amazing as it make the sky lively sparkly wonderfully
It shone in the dark out in the park making the mark
A sign of celebration in a cloud nine look so divine
Graces in the space a part of beauty to embrace


Details | Rhyme | |

Grandpa's Fiddle

Grandpa was a very jolly fellow, so talented and so wise.
He could plant a row of corn as straight as the arrow flies!
He was a capable carpenter, never once hitting his thumb!
He built barns "'squar' with the world", never out of plumb!

He was very adept with fiddle and bow to everyone's delight,
Except for Grandma who thought the consarned thing a fright!
He'd sit for hours 'neath the ancient sycamore sawing away.
She'd heard the same tunes for sixty years, much to her dismay!

He was a good old-time fiddler, of that there was no doubt!
Why, he could've topped Roy Acuff should they have had a bout!
His nimble fingers flew as he played "Turkey in the Straw!"
Neighbors tapped their toes and listened to him in awe!

Summer nights we'd sit on the porch 'neath a Hoosier moon,
Listening raptly as he played a mellow and haunting tune.
He'd play a rousing "Orange Blossom Special" for the house,
Then switch to a beautiful rendition of a waltz by Strauss!

Grandpa's old fiddle is stilled now, it hangs upon the wall.
I suspect though that he's fiddling for the angels, saints and all,
As good old foot-stomping music from his golden fiddle flows,
And a bemused Saint Peter surreptitiously taps his toes!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Rhyme | |

Barber Shop

When I was a mere lad, my Dad always cut my hair,
But as I reached my teens and became much more debonair,
To the bald-headed barber I whizzed in my old hometown,
Seated myself in his chair and plopped my quarter down!

I had never been a paying client at a barber shop before,
So I asked about that red, white and blue pole spinning by the door.
Said he, "It was a sign for barbers doing surgery in the olden day!"
At that I gulped, almost choked and turned a sickly gray!

Done with my hair, he'd shave my neck and brush on lots of powder,
And liberally douse my scalp with Vitalis - I couldn't have been prouder!
His shop reeked of pungent oils and stale tobacco smoke,
It was all I could do to sit there, trying to stifle a choke!

The town barber shop was a place to gossip and hear inane babble,
And was the local hangout for ne'er-do-wells and other idle rabble.
The risque banter invading my naive and delicate ears,
Gave me an education far beyond my tender years!

The tales I heard were of the local women, booze and such.
Though I had some inkling, I didn't understand all that much!
Had my dear devout Mother known what transpired there,
I suspect she would've insisted that Dad continue to clip my hair!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Epigram | |

Bon Voyage.

We christen thee Titanic
unsinkable, gigantic.
but lack of options cost her.
First one: a good defroster.

Details | Sedoka | |

A Lifetime Tradition

Grandfather relaxed
While I cleaned his grimed toenails—
He was a tugboat captain.
It was tradition,
As soon as he fell asleep,
I painted his toenails red.

© February 22, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Sedoka me any subject 	
Sponsored by: Russell Sivey

Details | Limerick | |

Porky Pig, Elmer Fudd, Bugs Bunny, GPSs

I’m hunting wabbits , are you going too.
Da duh da duh da downtown is a clue.
Watch out for that, doc.
I’ll think I will walk.
Ti, ti, ti, turn quick, wha, wha, what  I do.  

written for
Sponsor Carolyn Devonshire 
Contest Name Techno-Limericks  

Details | Free verse | |

Tradin' Fever

Around these parts trading fever is what its called
It comes around âbout ever fall!
The fever will come and go when it will subside 
no one knows!
These men are said to be the last great
 horse traders of our time a dyin'  breed the 
last of their kind!
When the fever hits they will trade anything they own!
They live by a motto, adone deal is set in stone!
The all trade horses, mules knives and guns to them
this is real fun!
They swap their lies and tales, retracing old stomping grounds
and trails!
They come and stay all day, whittling and spinning
 their yarns of those good ole days back on the farm!
Dedicated to my Father  D.G. Lucas

Details | Free verse | |

The Privvy, Toilet Trolls

Twas sordid that thought
Midwinter handed a lit 
Oil lamp
Showing the way outside to the shiny black paint of
The toilet door

Lift the latch....clunk! as your eyes scoured the darkness the bushes
For bogey men, trolls and murderers

Place lamp on window sill
Put small buttocks on the winter chilled toilet seat

Heart beats at a quickened pace
As a small scared face gazes 
Eyes foraging the white painted walls
For spiders and daddy long legs
Anything that crawls
And flys 
And eats small, small children

Eyes down on two chubby little legs 
Distant from the floor
And go girl go! 
As quick as you can
As the sounds and rustles blown outside are
The bogey man
He's coming after your guts and gore
Push little lady and try to be gone
The doors ripped off its hinges
And you are dragged into the abyss
And they will all read about 
The little lost Miss.... 

Details | Rhyme | |

A Squirrel's Treat

Now there’s a sound I’ve heard before,
The quietest knock on plastic door,
The squirrel on the other side,
Boldly stands, no need to hide,
He knows that there’s nothing to fear,
From the people within here,
But if he can just look so sweet,
He might just earn himself a treat,
And so he stands with widening eyes,
Hoping for a small surprise,
He waits patiently for bread,
With his tail so bushy and red,
Give him it dry and he might just utter,
“Thank you Miss, but where’s the butter?”

Details | Verse | |


Joanna Davis

The whoosh of time it flies

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~so fast

From the dawn of our birth,

To the dusk of our past.

If the legacy is filled

with the laughter of child-like dreams,

it explodes with joy

and bursts at the seams

The residue will fly

right out into space

Then when you’re older

hit you right in the face

Your smile will be big

your eyes will be wide

Then~~~~~~~~~~ whoosh

you’re right back

To when you were a child.  

Details | Lyric | |

A Running Chestnut- Acoustic Phonology

Toyous melody of childhood memories 	                                                          Board in tune becomes a high wire trapeze   						        Two cans and a string acoustic phonology 						               Each part paper comb sings the bucket drum 				                        With whizzing blade of grass in hands with breath hum  			              The paper roll trumpet blows ensemble strums         					    Running along the day grows as children play  				                   Rolling hillside a box becomes a sleigh  							     Tutor love pea shooter from across the way  				                      After a rain paper boat follows the drain    							           Bows arrows cornstalk fiddle finish reframe               					       Hoop and guider dolls cat and mouse homemade plain

Details | Rhyme | |

The Reunion

Plagued with signs of aging
Only the eyes bore a semblance
These were faces I used to know
Yet I barely see a resemblance.
Hair that once was wavy and long
Now barely grows in sprinkles
The face that never had a flaw
Now creased with lines and wrinkles

My eyes slowly traveled the room
Trying to look so nonchalant
Reveling in all the rounded figures
Sporting an out-of-date bouffant.
And to think I once was jealous
And made to feel so out of place
By this very group of matriarchs
Without a sign of youth to trace

How gracefully I’ve aged
As I compared  myself to these
How much younger I appear
I’ve sailed the years with ease.
The sound of voices intermingling
Draws me back to reality
Scarcely believing what I’m hearing
They’re saying the same things about me!

Details | Free verse | |



Unemployed and destitute in Baton Rouge
Intending to steal an illegal ride on a train
Feeling tired from too much drink
Bobby sexually allured a truck driver to stop
He took us to New Orleans in the rain
I withdrew my harmonica from my filthy scarf
And played  some chords while Bobby sang
For the entire duration of the journey

We lived like hobos from coast to coast
As close croneys and illicit lovers
But she decided  (wisely)
To abandon  me at Salinas
And try for a more meaningful life
I would (foolishly) exchange my entire future
To return to that past hand-to-mouth existence
And especially the illicit sex with her

Freedom simply means all is lost
“Nothing” itself is valueless, therefore free
Feeling good was an easy  option, and that
Seemed sufficient to us both then 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Just a fun piece, written by  a devoted fan of 
Kristofferson,  writer  of many great songs.  
I have tried to paraphrase the story as closely as possible.

Details | Light Poetry | |

It's nearly xmas time.


                             Its nearly xmas time you know                      
                             Children playing, lot's of snow

                             The times have changed to buy our gifts
                             No climbing stairs,Or getting lifts

                             It's warm inside,there is no threat
                             You see we have the internet

                             Im wondering now, when we are old
                             If things will always be controlled    

                             We've left the old days way behind
                             To me it seems to be unkind

                             I may be living in the past
                             But shopping online can be a blast.

                                               By Kate Mcnaughton. 2009. 

Details | Narrative | |

Monkey Business

I once got myself a monkey
(God knows what breed his was).
He was black, with dark, big eyes--
A devil-thing you could never pass.

Pearly-teeth shone in his mouth,
When you but pleased this thing;
We'd get-along well together,
(Me thought we could do with some training)
And, I tried teaching him
And taught him little tricks,
But my word! The poor thing,
Got rounded in the basics:

A few things of course, took him time,
While others, he could never learn:
Like when I said,"Sit Marcel",
He'd start to jump up and run...!
(Which wasn't quite the big deal,
For he was still learning what to do)
At least it was better than
When his filth I found in my shoe!

I coached him about 'toilet-culture'--
Taught him where men with a pot always rushed;
When that one day, on missing  my spects,
I found them only being flushed...

Nonetheless, we glued well as pals,
But for a diner's calamity:
When I ask him once,"Get me that rice",
He sat on the tray and chose to pee!

He sought a perch upon my head
So I always had unkempt hair;
He'd sit, digging deep and hard,
I don't know for what thing up there.
(A small cheery, childish thing,
He'd always place himself with me)
But if he'd not torn my favourite shirts,
I say, I'd be much, much happy...

We used to talk as great pals: 
He'd face me then, and play his part,
Although upon losing interest,
He'd slap me, scratch me, and cut me short!

This training and all friendliness,
Sure made each grow fond of the other
When I realized, he had to leave somehow
(Leaving  me to shrug and shudder):

As a final mischief of his,
He'd got himself in a dirty puddle,
Then placed himself in the cupboard,
Disturbing order to a state of muddle...!
When that I asked him to get down,
He looked at me somewhat askance;
As if he knew what it was--
The unpleasant thing that had come to chance...

The grin on that face I was to miss 
I know--the parting was like Hell...
He knew not what would change for us,
I still miss good ol'Marcel...

Details | I do not know? | |

Friends with a Girl

"Friends with a Girl"

        She stood on a hill.. with the sun in her hair..
     I.. was frozen in fear..
          In a valley of heart.. slowly sank..
      As she walked.. ever closer.. and near..
  hands.. tried to move ..
             Not a chance.. 
       Lifting my eyes fell across her..
           She seemed to a dream..
        I was amazed.. how her eyes drew me in..  
             Like a hunter.. she quietly found me..    
     So you want to be my friend.. she asked..
          Not a question.. her answer ..she knew..
      So you like to walk me on the path.. she said..
          Again.. she told the truth..
                             I was just a boy.. hardly able to breathe..
                       So it seemed..
               She took my hand.. and broke the ice.. 
           My curse was no longer found..
                Suddenly the world in which I lived.. became alive..
       All around.. everything I knew.. had been a lie..
              The world was black and grey.. before her kiss..
          I watched.. the colors exploding in the sky..
               So this.. is what I would have missed..
         Only now.. I know.. this girl's a friend..
                        Before we met.. I ask.. did I exist?                    

Details | Clerihew | |


Wladziu Valentino Liberace (May 16, 1919 – February 4, 1987), better known by only 
his last name Liberace was a famous American entertainer and pianist. ...
Wladziu Valentino Liberace
Famous American pianist and entertainer
He was quite the character they say.
Made those ivories talk and he was also quite gay.

*For Catie Lindsey's "You who....Yo, Clerihew" contest

Details | Couplet | |



I'd thought I found eternal rest
cold hands folded, still, on my chest
but I hear echoes from the past
the trumpet's sound, fierce bugle blast

Coming alert, I look around
burst out laughing, see the sound
source - back to sleep with merry wave
at geese, goose-stepping on my grave ....

Alan McAlpine Douglas

Details | Senryu | |

Disco Ball

Disco Ball
Frenetic feet tap;
Across the room
Shy boys gather,
First dance jitters crawl.

Details | Rhyme | |

Teddy Bear

Good Morning my precious
Teddy Bear.
I see you warm and cuddly
sitting there
your fur crumpled and mussed
from my loving care.
You give me peace and comfort
through the night
from all pain, sorrow
and worldly fright.
I'm crazed, lost and so up tight
when of you I loose sight.
Without you to hug
things wouldn't be right.
When the day is at end
and on comes the night.
I look for you
to hold so tight.
Without your care
Teddy Bear
how will I make it 
through the night.

Details | Rhyme | |


Volleyball was the only game we played so well,
that's what we did on long, warm summer evenings,
putting all the effort to win and that took a strong will...
but disappointment often showed on our worn-out faces. 

The aggressive girls smirked everytime they missed a hit,
I laughed hard to get them mad, but one of them was sly:
her name was Lisa and she found the perfect target...
I remember teasing her when she refused to comply.

What surprised me was her challenging looks full of vengeance,
" I will make you pay for this, idiot! " she kept on yelling,
but I continued laughing and having fun, thinking she was bluffing...
then Lisa threw the ball aiming at me, it hit me right in the face.

Ah, that was no friendly game, it was fierce competation!
And realizng how foolish I was, I ignored the sharp pain
and continued playing with the intention of winning,
I saw Lisa madly staring at me while she was recharging.

The pony-tail girls started to move quicker, the boys followed their belligerent grit,
volleyball was a game that either team wanted to win so badly:  cheat
or fair didn't matter, because nobody would have accepted a defeat...
unfortunately, the time was up and we all fell on the grass restoring our friendship.

Details | I do not know? | |

More than weather, can be frightful or Unseasonal Christmas

Used to be the weather was frightful
People covered themselves from head to toe
Now, despite the fact it’s Christmas season
I see more sand, than I see snow
The temperatures keep on elevating
To the moon, they just seem to rise
Oh, where is the Christmas of yesterday
The rosy cheeks, windows fogged with ice

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Frosty, it seems we’re not gonna see him
Heat miser, now, has gotten his day
Can’t ole Jack Frost do something about this
And chase the warm weather away
No need to chop wood set for burning
The heated air replaces that in the hearth
I hope it gets cold and very soon, too
Because Christmas puts warmth in everyone’s heart

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Oh, when Christmas day finally gets here
Right now, I’ll tell ya, all I wanna see
Are people with scarves and gloves on their hands
And snow bringing life to all barren trees
I want the temps to chill me right to the bone
That’s when I’ll know it’s Christmas time
Who wants to look up and see a sleigh
With a fat man in a speedo, flying around

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Details | Free verse | |

The Eternal Infernos of Pain

Front and Center!
Those Gates adorned with pearls in Heaven.
White angels soaring. 

If by chance, 
Ordered to enter;
Through St. Peter's Permission; 
I demand from you chancellor; 
A swift insanity plea, submission. 
For this troubled soul is plagued, 
By vast displays of wicked ways. 

None lost. 
Courtesy of meticulous examination. 
Love lost. 

Diligence pending Investigation. 
Key Evidence, perpetually documented 
In Sin's ominous catalog. 
Rebuke my Judge! 
For multitudes of shortcomings, 
He failed to ascertain. 

Moreover, present was He, 
When Satan drafted me. 
First round,
Pick three.
His Fantasy League...
"The Eternal Infernos of Pain" 

JS Lambert

Details | Lyric | |

The Pawn Folly

Sand-like cliffs reaching up as towers
 thier sole purpose, but to measure hours,
 feels a though I'm stuck in a cage
 resulting in more visitations with rage;
There's not enough drink to fade it away
 and too much left to quit it, today.
 A good woman could help me put it down
 but, there doesn't seem to be any of them, around.
Gravity's pulling just as hard as she'd might
 and, the extra pull, has brought upon us, the night;
 and, just as noon can coerce the dew to fade
 night got real lucky, bartering for trade;
for day's sky and night's sky yearned for folly to be
 each dimension's signature for eternity;
 pawn folly was divided into both these domains
 giving birth to split issues, and more difficult planes.
But, on l keep trudging, as on l must go
 who'll win in the long-run, believe l'll never know,
 l've donned my best hat and, my only warm cloak
 but it's hard to realize that I'm the butt of the joke!

Details | Kyrielle | |

Carolina Pines

Turned it loose and got drunk
As a smelly old skunk
On disgusting cheap wine
In the Carolina pines

Shot guns at thin air
(Who the heck gonna' care?)
Weren't it fun, weren't it fine
In the Carolina pines?

Then we REALLY got clobbered
We staggered and slobbered
We wallowed like swine
In the Carolina pines

(In the morning we grieved
We hocked and we heaved
We whimpered and whined
In the Carolina pines)

By: tryerson
Motif: Nature

Details | Dramatic monologue | |


The world is a perplexing place
So much beauty and so much evil all tied into one
I started having fun when I was way too young 
I’ve walked down both sides of the tracks
The adrenaline rush was like smoking crack  
Being naive and carefree I thought I was living the ideal life
By the time I was fifteen I had experienced it all
Sometimes I managed to pull myself up
However temptation was too great, despite knowing the toll
I felt like I had lost my soul
I didn’t realize I was just being used and abused
I used to think I was being cool, but now I realize I was surrounded by a bunch of dumb
ass fools
People I thought were my friends all did me wrong in the end
I put my trust into the wrong hands and then one day reality struck
I found myself stuck
I learned the hard way
I literally found myself fighting for my life and ended up being taught the strength
The strength I had within myself all of these days
I refuse to live in fear
That’s when I decided to change my ways
I was forced to grow up way to young
My life had been like one disastrous play
I took back control in every plausible way
I could no longer kick and scream
For I was done living in this catastrophic dream
It was my fight to fight and it was all up to me
There are no magic pills, no quick fixes
Only I could choose to remain a victim
I get upset if anyone takes pity, even though a few years were extremely gritty
I found my inner strength on my own, even when the stress makes me feel like I am about to
Like a erasing the scarlet letter I shall no longer where that frown
I chose to let myself be free
Knowing I am the only one who holds the key
The key to unlock and release myself from the pain
Now everyday is like a surprise
I see the world through a fresh pair of eyes
I take advantage of that as much as I can
I try to look for the beauty and pureness everywhere I turn
I would not let myself be tainted from the past
Life passes by so fast
Forget the scary things I have done, for in a moment you can be gone
Take that leap of faith and wear a smile upon your face

Details | Narrative | |

' Knock - Knock Jokes ... ( Quirky, Yes )

Aahhhh, The Quirky/Idiosyncrasies of MoonBee

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Icky …
Icky Who ?
… Never Mind, I’ll Come Back Later …

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Juan …
Juan Who ?
I Don’t Know, What Do You Have In Mind ?

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Hula …
Hula Who ?
Yes, When I Was Young …

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
   Toodle …
Toodle Who ?
  … Ok

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
   Bye-Bye …
Bye-Bye Who ?
Look Lucy, We Found Ricky !

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
      Nu …
Nu Who ?
Well, If You Know Who, Why You Ask ?

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Woo …
Woo Who ?
… Ok, Who’s In Trouble ?

(The Obvious-Obvious, One)

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Who …
Who Who ?
Late Night, Huh ?

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Yu …
Not Me !
Yeah … Yu !

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Yu ! …
You Who ?!
… Hi …

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Yu !
Naaaaa, Naaaaa Interested !

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Boo …
Boo Who ?
Wait, I’m Not A Bill Collector !

                               Knock, Knock …
                      Who… who oo ‘s  There ?
                                  Sue …
                           Su suu sue, Who ?
            (but then Door Opens, With A Crash
               Double-Barrel, Points Out, Blasts
     The Knocker Runs Fast, as Voice Shouts Out Rash
“ … Sue That ! and Don’t Come Back Talking ‘bout Whiplash”
          And The Man Sits Back Down, To Finish His Glass

                                 - - - - - - - - - - - -

              Oh, Darn, I’m Out Of Egg-Nog and Jack D
               Now, How Can I Make My Moonlight-Tea
             Well, It’s Back To The Market, For MoonBee
                                       He He He ! …

                            Have A Great Day, Y’all …


Details | Free verse | |

Little Red

Full Moon Brimming 
On A Hungry Wolf
Fire still burning 
Words are not enough

Red Riding Hood,
You stopped me where i stood.
The basket you held, looked so good,
I enticed...And you fell... 

In the woods... safe and sound
We could not believe what we had found
Me in denim... and you it lace

We understood, each other so very well
Full moon brimming over with light
Gazing into the eyes of the other

The twin to me, I did see, in You.
Be careful with my heart, my love.

My running shoes are unlaced for now,
So lean back and enjoy the ride.
Embrace all the laughter, our lives allow.


Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Baggage Claim

Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival, 
          I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches 
                                                Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
          Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
                                                He holds the key to this new world.

The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience 
          Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped 
                                                Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence 
          Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped 
                                                Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.

My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
          In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
			   Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
          On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
                                                Our intrepid journey commences...

Details | Rhyme | |

Jive Talk of the 1940's

The honey was very well aware
As she went flitting by
That all the goof-offs hanging out
Were giving her the eye.

She didn’t mind they stole a gander
As she saw them standing there
Admiring her newly shortened skirts
And giving her gams a stare.

As long as she wasn’t a real armpit
And hadn’t been around the block
They would try to out do each other
In cornering her stock.

She knew if a hot dog made a pass
She could hail the black and white
And he would do some small time
In the town joint, over night.

Joyce Johnson 01/12/12 For Craig Cornish’s “Talk That Way” contest.

Won a 3rd in contest

Details | Rhyme | |

Darrin's Troubles

Business executive Darrin Stephens has a life
with a good paying job, a fine boss, and a great wife.
He’s employed by a large advertising agency.
Darrin and Samantha should live with complacency.

However, when anyone sees them, that’s not the case,
some strange phenomena occur often at their place.
They have a nosy neighbor who’s named Gladys Kravitz.
She cannot prove what she knows, and it gives her some fits.

It is easy to determine Darrin’s troubles cause.
He has a bunch of witches and warlocks for in-laws.
His problems are many since he married Samantha.
Darrin’s mother-in-law goes by the name Endora.
It is an encumbrance, and certainly not a joke,
when Endora can turn him into an artichoke.

His father-in-law Maurice, his cousin Serena,
the jokester Uncle Arthur and old aunt named Clara,
cause plenty of problems for him and wife Samantha.
Darrin and Samantha have a daughter, Tabitha.
Daughter Tabitha has the power of a young witch.
Mommy and daddy keep telling her she must not “twitch”!
Whenever Samantha becomes ill on any day,
they call on a witch doctor quack named Dr. Bombay.
He often contributes to Darrin’s situations
with his magical spells, potions, and incantations.
With all of these things, why has not Darrin gone crazy?
These things make a funny situation comedy!

Robert Pettit  "Bewitched"

Details | Ballad | |

Halloween Then and Now

The child I was, so long ago Knew not of Halloween. The sweet treats that are now bestowed By me were never seen. The preacher at our church denounced Halloween as evil. Celebrating it, he said, was Honoring the devil. Of course there always were the teens Who parked buggies on barns And tipped over the outhouses On the neighboring farms. Some of these were brothers of mine, Just wanting to have fun. Daddy sent them to atone for All of the mischief done. Halloween now finds me ready With a big bowl of treats To hand to the children coming, Just looking for some sweets.
By: Joyce Johnson with 4ft-3 ft.meter, Ballad style. Written for contest "Halloween Fun" won a 3rd

Details | Free verse | |

The Image Of Being In Need

The Image of Being In Need

My eyes are covered in gauze,
from dirt scratching 
both of my corneas.

My boyfriend leads me around
otherwise I'd find myself on my 
knees feeling the ground.

He takes care of me
and tends to my needs.

He accidently squirts 
ear wax cleaner
into my eyes instead 
of my prescribed 
eye drops.

Oh the pain,
I thought would 
drive me insane.
No apologies either!

He picks my clothes out
and helps me dress,
too close for my

The humility found in 
depending on another
for survival was not high.

So glad I'm looking
for a new guy now,
the image of me
depending on him
for a lifetime
is not a good one.

For he left me
feeling more like
a burden then
a friend in need,
to me that
makes him 
a bad seed
for me.

Details | Free verse | |

The Guardian of the Morning Light

The Guardian of the Morning Light,
Creeps out of his little space warm and soft.
No one will waste that precious morning light.
Our little fur ball will see to that.
Oh ye of little sleep… 
Give up the covers or ye will weep.
The door becomes his drums, 
To announce the morning rays of the sun.
He wakes the dogs up to whine and pace, 
Eventually they will lick our face.
The window curtains will begin to part till they…
Shower our faces and eyes with light… not soft.
Then the bed begins to shake…
As everyone begins the climb to our face.
But the secret weapons are about to come in.
The kitty has awoken the little children.
Cold feet assail us as they climb in place.
The dreams of a cuddle are now replaced…
But tomorrow will be another day
If I could only find a place to keep him at bay.
ZZZ’s are the treasure of days gone by…
But the future is richer with all these guys.

Now, if only, the Guardian of Light will be polite
And give us one more minute of sleepy respite…

Details | I do not know? | |

The Sea

The Sea

Ever changing, ever moving,
Waters under the pull of a distant body.
Ever calming, ever soothing,
Maurarders of ever distant booty.

Try to tame lust for gold and nature,
Explore the Pirate in yourself and try to win.
The lust for treasure wans, what remains is rapture.
At six or seven fathoms you realize your sins.

A noble ship you believe you sail,
How you conduct your business tells the tail.
Treat honestly with all you trade,
and of the evil of the heart never be afraid.

Ever changing, ever moving,
Waters under the pull of a distant body.
Ever calming, ever soothing,
Maurarders of ever distant booty.

Too tired tonight to expand on this.
The morning sun always has first rights.
So to my bed I go... To give my pillow a watery kiss.
Before I find a waterfront bar and end a few fights.

rlm '07

Details | Quatrain | |

Memory of Bread

Whenever I smell warm loaves of bread
The mouth-watering smell gets me thinkin'
Of my childhood at my grandparents' house
And kneading bread dough in the kitchen.

When I bite into bread, fresh from the oven
The present is soon chased away,
For I'm back baking bread with my Lola
Though I can't bake my own bread today.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Nuzlocking of Pokemon Red

For those we lost
Nuzlocking Pokémon Red
This is a poem 
To memorialize our dead


A level 4 Metapod
Caught with a single pokéball
Would grow to become
One of the best pokémon of all

Rainbow, the Butterfree
Evolved before our eyes
A valued teammate
We could never predict his demise

But in a simple trainer battle
Tackle was used by a Geodude
Rainbow had little HP
So we were screwed

A level 18 Butterfree
Was lost that fateful day
“Oh, Lord, what have I done?”
Was all his trainer could say


In a patch of grass
A level 16 Mankey we did find
Named after the great Kiedis
A spot on our team he was assigned

Immediately placed in the front position
Our hopes were just to high
A level 16 Rattata 
Would force us to bid goodbye


He was selling Magikarps
This little old man
And we knew immediately
He’d fit in with our plans

Only a level 5
He was a trainee to be sure
But we were already imagining
Battles he could be used for

As a Gyarados, Cross caught us a Snorlax
Rosie would be her name
But we had no idea
She would be his last contribution to our game

A level 29 Electrode
Dealt a critical hit
And as Cross fainted
His trainer threw a fit

You were so young, Cross
Why did it have to be you
We could only pray
That Rosie would do

The Rest

And may we never forget
The Pokémon we lost fighting MewTwo
The ones who gave their lives
To bring the best finale to you

*For Adam Hepler*

Details | Rhyme | |

Adventures In Motoring

The younger crowd will not believe this bit of lore I fear,
But operating vehicles was more complicated in yesteryear!
For example, to signal turns you hung your arm out the door,
And to dim the lights there was a dimmer switch mounted on the floor!

If, alas, you punctured a tire, you repaired it with an inner tube.
You parked your car over a pit at the garage for an oil change and lube.
The gearshift lever was on the floor and it was always in the way,
'Specially when with your sweetie you tried to make a little hay!

To start the engine on some cars you used a knuckle bustin' crank!
To open a convertible top, you had to give it a humongous yank!
Heaters operated sporadically and in the winter you froze your tush!
Air conditioning was the passing breeze sans cooler buttons to push!

Dogs and chickens were shooed away with an oogah-oogah horn.
Shock absorbers were rare - jouncing, squeaky springs kept cars airborne
Lots of chrome and rumble seats were available for the more audacious.
Folks huddled close together since seating wasn't all that spacious!

There was a clutch to fool with and you depended on mechanical brakes.
A long trip over two-lane roads was certain to give you pains and aches!
About the only good thing about cars back then is when you filled the tank.
You needn't seek a usurious loan (as you do today) from the local bank!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Light Poetry | |


Hell, I’m coming to you
I’ve always think about you
You’re the goal of my life
Gimme a few more hours
I’ll be there
We will be together forever
Gee! I forgot the “o”.
Hello, I’m coming to you.

Details | Light Poetry | |

That Thing for the Center of a 45 Record

What is that thing called that used to fit a 45 record in its center hole?
I’m sure I used to know what it was called but old age has taken its’ toll.

They looked like a tornado that fit the spindle and they had three arms,
With it you could play a 45 record but the name isn’t setting off alarms.

I’ve asked around but no one my age can remember the name,
Spreader, spindle slider, spider to us they’re all the same.

We all remember using them and owing the little clipper a lot,
But a memory of the name of the thing it seems that we have not.

Without one in the center of your record your party would be sunk,
Your record would get off kilter then your band would sound like they were drunk.

I asked a woman I know who is still young enough to have kept her memory,
But to know of such a devise you have to be at least a 45 and she’s only a 33.

Details | Couplet | |

Two Women at a Window, ca.1670

It's another mild day and the sky glows white
The air is still and cool as the midday light

Admirers giggle, perhaps at a young caller
One hunches over, the other stands taller

They don't look wealthy, yet they don't look poor
Perhaps trusted servants, but what can't they ignore?

They've taken jolly notice, as if on a whim
Of a miming youth who should be pruning a limb

Posted at the window the younger one peers
At this croaking lad, flattered by what she hears

Hunching near the potato patch across the way
He waves in a fluster with a few word words to say

He's glances side to side, behind the wall, stepping back
Emerging again from a passageway's crack

Between the tool shed and the gardener's house
He sneaks with the startle and twitch of a mouse

She remains calm, though tickled by his manner
For he might as well wear a bright purple banner

The older woman chuckles in faint squeaks
Hidden by the shutter around which she peeks

The younger one looks quite near seventeen
With floating white sleeves rolled up yet clean

Her girlish neckline, cut wide and low,
Displays to her suitor how well she can sew

Her hair is tucked with a bow on one side
Her grin is reserved with her eyes opened wide

Could her silly boy still have his pruners in hand? 
Is he skilled with the saw and tilling the land?

Two women at a window, quite content
Is this how many of their moments this day are spent?

Details | Free verse | |

Java for Aquaman

I quickly realized that 
our waitress
didn't know how to balanace
a coffee pot

when it slipped off of her tray
and splashed in my lap. 

Not knowing if I should cry from the pain
or be mad at the clumsy waitress
or be nervous that I was to blame
or to laugh at the spill,
I just looked down
at my darkened and steaming shorts.

The harried young server
grabbed my hand
and whisked me off into the kitchen.

"Are you okay, honey?"
Mascara and red lipstick.
She untucked my shirt
and unbuckled my belt
and unzipped me.
Strawberry scented hair and hoop earrings.
She whipped off my shorts 
with a "shoosh" sound.
Smooth hands and her skirt 
was taut in the back.

She darted off to the sink
to rinse out my dyed shorts
and left me standing there
in the restaurant's humid kitchen
in my Aquaman Underoos.

My pale and hairless legs 
smelt like French roast
as I waited for my clothes
to dry on the radiator.

A teenaged station cook
glanced at me for a moment
and then went back to 
silently flipping his flapjacks.

Details | Rhyme | |

Harry's Barbershop

A cluttered barbershop in my old hometown I fondly call to mind,
Was a gathering place to loaf and socialize, a great place to unwind!
Harry, the barber, kept farmers, the local rabble and boys like me,
Looking right smart, clipping hair and shaving necks for a two-bit fee!

Outside, as raging winter storms amassed piles of drifting snow,
The old pot-bellied stove radiated warmth setting hearts aglow!
The shop rang with debates about politics and the charms of local females.
Hiding behind a comic book I learned some mighty intriguing details!

Harry's shop had just one old wrought-iron footrest barber's chair.
Thereupon hung a strop with which he honed razors with flair.
In a cream-colored cabinet, Harry stored the tools of his trade;
Brushes, straight razors, shaving cups and pungent oils of pomade!

Wall posters depicted sports figures and women scantily clad,
Also, ads for Vitalis, Brylcreem and other concoctions to be had.
In the back was a room where ne'er-do-wells usually hung around,
Enjoying a smoke or playing checkers - fellowship would abound!

Adding to the cozy setting was Harry's inscrutable cat.
No one dared move him from the chair where he always sat!
Harry and his quaint barbershop are now forever gone,
But to the memory of those simpler times I will e'er be drawn!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Details | Rhyme | |

I hate MRS Oleson

I hate Harriet Oleson because she was a bitch.
Somebody should've had that awful woman lynched.
She makes me so mad that the veins in my forehead start to throb.
That woman was greedy, mean and she was the world's biggest snob.

She had a spoiled brat for a daughter who was named Nellie.
But when Laura Ingalls threw hay on her, she became smelly.
If I had been MR. Oleson, I would've gotten a divorce.
His wife was so ugly, she had the face of a horse.

If I could've gotten my hands on MRS. Oleson, I would've gave her a good shake.
Every time she looked in mirrors, they were bound to break.
The Ingalls were very good people and they were also very nice.
But I wish MRS. Oleson would've had to shave her head because of lice.

Details | Verse | |

Passed Down With Interest

A precious penny for your thoughts,
for five a good cigar.
Prevailing wisdom up in smoke
to regale the nearest star.

Keep abreast of Smith and friends,
but true friends we disdain.
As eager birds beat frantic wings
in sunrise search for gain.

A moron's gold soon disappears,
no noontime meal is free
Roll every penny and they're yours,
on that we all agree.

Shopworn phrases from the past
still speak to here and now.
It's amazing still how money talks-
that final, sacred cow.

Details | Rhyme | |

Old Nelly

Old Nelly so blue
hasn't the notes to do
some say she's a one hit wonder
but she knows she's made of thunder
singing those sad chord days,
she plays her jazz in new ways.

Old Nelly play the nose,
ring out the sax
and soak the audience with your hose,
stamp them with the facts,
Old Nelly's back!

Details | Light Poetry | |

Grampa's Revenge


I see him sitting by the radio
Ears cupped to hear the score
Won’t wear his hearing aid,
Says he doesn’t need it any more
Grandma’s watching television
(Lawrence Welk is on tonight)
They argued every Sunday
But he never won this fight!
The Yankees were in the playoffs
Grandpa pleaded to no avail
He even tried to bribe her
But Grandma would always prevail
She loved the Champagne Lady
And all the bubbles shimmering down
And the lovely voice she had
And, of course, the beautiful gown
Then, Grandpa would turn the volume up
So the Umpire could be heard
And Grandma would start to shout
That she couldn’t hear a word!
They argued over everything
Yet in retrospect I can see
Their marriage was really fine
Grandma was inconsolable
For months after Grandpa died
She never left the house again
She just sat inside and cried
But I knew Grandpa had the last word
And things would never be the same
The day that I found Grandma
Watching the Yankee Game!

Copyright(c) Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)

Details | Pastoral | |

Trivial Question IV

*****Can you honestly answer this one question..*******

If "God" were to be a passenger in your car
How many driver's would their be?

Answer: It depends on whether your car has two wheel's or one!


******Question of the day....++++

How do you keep a Poetry Soup Poet or anybody else in suspense?

Answer: To be continued.....Ha! Ha!. He,He...luv. luv------

Details | ABC | |

Fourteen Catfish

        Fourteen Catfish
Fourteen catfish swimin along
one was caught cause he went wrong
thriteen catfish swimin all night
two got hooked before daylight
eleven catfish in the brook
seven fell for the fisherman's hook
four big catfish sniffin bait
three of them just couldn't wait
one fat catfish all alone
got no girlfriend of his own.
      © ron wilson

Details | Light Poetry | |

Back seat blues

It was in my old Cortina
Well you really should have seen her
She was naked as the day that she was born
We had only just begun, we were having lots of fun
When her foot came crashing down upon the horn
Well, she gave a little groan and a steady little moan
Then from nowhere came the loudest ever scream
She was thrashing all about, she was trying to get out
And then suddenly the lights were on main beam
Soon the door was open wide as she made her way outside
She was hopping on the tarmac in the nude
It was comic, it was farce just to see her naked arse
But I’m sure the other people thought it rude
She was cold and she was damp and was happy now the cramp
Had abated, though the memory lingered on
Climbing quickly back inside, trying desperately to hide
She got dressed and moments later we were gone
Now it’s nice to go al fresco, but, the car park outside Tesco
Is just not the place to park when you feel frisky
So, next time we get denuded it’ll be somewhere secluded
At a place where getting caught is far less risky

Details | Light Poetry | |

Soul Of A Stripper, Life Of A Housewife

The music thumps, the walls jump
She pole dances against the jamb
Dust rag in her right
Polish in her left hand

House is hers for a few hours
To fulfill a fantasy
Bump and grind it babe
The vacumn whiiiirrrs away

Shake that booty, strut that stuff
Transfer clothes in washer to dryer
Wearing faded blue jeans
Kick that leg up higher

Beds are made, bunnies dusted
She cat walks looking demure
Practises a sultry pout
Wiping spots from the mirror

Work the shoulders, drop to a deep squat
Then stick the tush up in the air
Family is due home very soon
Straighten her clothing with care

Greet the kids with hugs, husband with kisses
Getting  dinner to the table
While news plays in the background
Her life is happy, solid and stable

Dishes washed, kids off to sleep
Taking my husband by the hand
This housewife leads him to our room
Where her stripper soul takes command

Details | Quatrain | |


Goodbye Fall with all the auburn leaves of the reddest sunset,
goodbye crackling path where I met the last songbirds,
whose melody accompained me to winter's doors;
and with deep sadness I kept on looking back.

Welcome gloomy winter with short afternoons and long evenings;
watching the advancing shadows and loudly hearing
the furious sound of the squall rampaging the stately trees,
and making them weep when the icy rain comes down with lightining. 

Sitting in a rattling, rocking chair, I peruse through pages of sunny places afar,
forgetting the dreariness of this frigid season and be consoled by a warm fire;  
and still nostalgia abounds...thinking of the pleasant strolls of a past season,
which thrilled me with its colors, and through delight I justified my reason. 

O winter, don't linger as you always have...shorten your stay, avoid foul play; 
and could I ever stand a pale sun, hardly giving off with its luminiscence,
in this house hidden among the maples and the pines of a squalid valley?
Old winter, don't mislead me with days without snow...that's utter pretense!

Goodbye explorer fedora hat keeping my dreamer's head cool, 
sparing my skin another ugly wrinkle, allowing late beauty to rule;   
goodbye iced coffee sipped from my Big Apple plastic cup,
which I bought along Fifth Avenue in a crowded, variety shop. 

Ummerciful winter, pity the desperate state I am in,
reduce the wrath of your devastation, step inside and to tell me your amazing tales...
hoping that I will write them down for everyone to read and enjoy for immortal ages;
relentless winter, reduce the dreariness of this frigid season.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | I do not know? | |

Time changes, lorries don't

Here I am to tell you a story
of an old and broken lorry
and it's friend, the old garage,
they were both heroes once.

Back by decades it happened once
that some guy bought a garage.
Believe me was the man surprised,
when he saw a lorry inside.

The lorry wasn't in the deal,
but there it was and it was his.
So the man soon decided,
that with that car he wants to ride with.

He popped the hood, made sure it worked,
turned on the engine and went to work.
He did the same each workday morning,
until one he got a mysterious warning.

It was strange and it was yellow,
it said the garage was being hollowed.
Of course the owner didn't like it,
so he sued the city hall and by god, he won.

The town had evil plans before,
they were going to build a shopping mall.
But since the little garage had stayed,
all nice old building stayed there and smiled.

Overnight the city loved him,
the people smiled and gave them gifts,
it lasted for some weeks
and that was it.

They all forgot the nice old man,
his big blue truck and the sad garage.
Now the city plans a scyscraper
and guess whose garage is again on the papers.

Details | Blank verse | |

when meeting beauty

When Meeting Beauty 

I read the menu at the restaurant looked up and saw 
a pair of brown leg stretching up to heaven and thought
this waitress is from Senegal, as all beautiful women are
born there, a poor country which God compensated by 
given the people physical exquisiteness.
In my old man’s confusion I ordered goat chops which 
was quite apt for my unbecoming thoughts.
 When she served the food I looked demurely down 
but did see her white teasing smile and saw her walk away 
moving like a schooner on the high seas. 
No, I’m not an improper dirty old man and didn’t make any 
leering remarks, but it was a moment when I wished to
be young and be able to admire beauty openly and my 
admiration would have been met with a smile....and perhaps
a chance of a warm embrace.      

Details | Couplet | |

Oh, to be Young

Oh, to be young again
To do the things I did then
To run and play, dance and sing
With not a worry about anything

Oh to be young once more
Before middle age crept in the door
Before the pull of gravity
Made these wrinkles on my knee

Oh, to be young and in my prime
Happy-go-lucky all of the time
All my dreams were ahead of me
Knowing just what I wanted to be

Oh, to be young an physically fit
Doing things just for the fun of it
Crazy and wild and taking risks
Before I had herniated disks

Oh, to be young and so smart
No worries about a broken heart
Thinking life would always be
The way it was for you and me

Oh, to be young and free
I would not go back, you see
Unless I knew what I know now
Mistakes I made, I'd fix somehow

Details | Rhyme | |


Playing soccer on my small nintendo
I envied great stars like ronaldo
The great pele and romario
The music rises to a cresendo
Right from my small nintendo
I could hear the rhythm of the piano 
And my blood ripples at the sound of the concerto
I danced until i'm lost in the solo 
Suddenly i was revived by the  diminuendo 
Of this mystic sound from my nintendo
I checked the terminal to the audio 
Oh!,it has been disconnected by antonio
My friend from colorado

Details | I do not know? | |

"Hey you...It's me"...

"Hey you - It's me"

Thats what I hear when I pick up the phone
I giggle and smile
His voice very sexy
He has a comforting tone.

He asks me how my day was
He tells me about his
And all the while
I giggle.

I simply giggle.

He is strong, yet sweet
but, ssh, don't tell
as I have solemly
promised never to repeat.

He travels a lot by car and by plane
So his itinerary is top topic
Although it drives him insane.

He likes my voice and to hear me laugh
I like the fact, that he too, loves baths.
He is unable to leave a glass in the sink
I too am, a self proclaimed neat freak.

One night on the phone
late in the evening
my combacks began
to not flow that easy.

He said with a laugh
its okay you win
because that way too,
we both win in the end.

With your smile and laughter
and happiness abound
its our victory together
we will celebrate what we've found.

Details | Haiku | |

Banzai Tokyo

Banzai Tokyo
Land lashing tsunami tongue
Godzilla is home

Details | I do not know? | |


                                    HOW MUCH FISH CAN SMOKEY EAT

All cats like fish as we all know,
But Smokey just loved it,
It made quite a show.

My dad went fishing most every week,
And Smokey would wait,
By the door for his treat.

Dad always saved Smokey a nice big fish,
But Smokey kept begging,
To refill his dish.

One day Dad asked him,"How much can you eat?"
And gave him another,
Just for a treat.

Soon it was gone and the cat was back,
Begging and pleading,
For the fish in Dad's sack.

Time and again Dad gave him another,
And finally asked Mom,
"Has he got a brother?"

"Am I feeding two cats? Where does he put it?
I can't give him more,
He'll make himself sick!"

So Daddy refused after five or six fish,
And Smokey decided,
To fill his own dish.

While Dad was busy, quick as a flash,
He snatched up a filet,
And made a mad dash;

But Daddy was quick as the cat it would seem,
And grabbed back the fish,
As the cat made a scream.

Round and around each tugged at his end,
Till at last that poor fish,
In the middle was rend.

The cat ran away with a piece in his mouth,
To hide with his fish,
Somewhere in the house.

Dad had great fun retelling this tale,
Of the great tug of war,
With the cat and fish tail.

                                         Judy Ball

Details | Blank verse | |

mixed memory

A Mixed Memory 

When mother made gateau for someone’s birthdays
I beat the cream using a steel whisker. Boring work 
before the cream thickened and could be spread on
the cake, but it was worth it, as I got to lick bowl. 
I thought of this as a tempest whipped the sea into
a froth. In the galley I had a mix-master and could
whisk up cream in no time, only I didn’t have the real
stuff , had to use condensed milk but I didn’t feel 
inclined to lick its residue. The tempest blew into 
storm, the ship was jumping about like an untrained
colt refusing to have a rider on its back. Life boats
 smashed, ship railings too we only hoped she could 
ride out the storm. In Hamburg I walked ashore and 
ate a piece of Black Forest Gateau, awe-inspiring. 
And to sit in a coffee shop that didn’t throw me off 
my chair like demented colt.    

Details | Blank verse | |

Get Told

I've had to grow up
and down and back again,
but its nice hearing
the new that everyone knows.
You can never be too old,
especially when you still get told.

Details | Free verse | |



Very tall, I mean not too short
A Plump, you mean
No, of a slim figurative expression
Yes, but dark in body colour
Not light enough to lit 
The room in darkness
Neither here nor there, is that!
Of the chocolate colour,
Is she hot-tempered, over-jealous or
Gentle like a dove without pretence
My head chorused at once
Still, dying of anxiety.

Does he have a beard?
Or his hair full of bush or baldness?
Is he looking mean
With a scaring scar on his face?
Or does he belong to the 
“Lion Entanglement Tribe?”
Is he a man with a tender heart?
Or with a heart-melting gentle touch 
Does he have a strong palm like the farmer?  
Or snores like a pig while on a mattress
She sighed a breath of relief to the day to behold
As fear of the unknown grip her body.

As cock crows in the dark early hours
It’s a day off the d-day
The day of emotional confrontation 
I smiled for the day to Romeo my Juliet
Suddenly, anxiety cast aspersion on my smile.

Alayande Stephen T.
12th November, 2007

It was inside an Ayobo vehicle, was going home for a revival.
Lion Entanglement Tribe means people with Tribal marks in Africa

Details | Diamante | |

E is for Ecto

Maud dreamed by the fire, her blue eyes half-closed,
While a grey cat on a grey mat beside her reposed.
Then she wakened and watched as the fast-falling snow
Was whipped into drifts when the sad wind would blow.
The moments that make up a life span are fleet,
Passing by with the stealth of a kitten's soft feet.
Since then, many winters this old earth has turned,
And I can't even guess when the last embers burned.
But where the hearth warmed, a computer now stands,
And someone's been typing with very cold hands
And piling spreadsheets on a table all day
On the very same spot where a grey cat once lay.
You're alone, so stop turning -- you won't find a trace
Of the blue eyes and smile of a little girl's face;
But when winds start moaning and driving the snow,
Maud may send you a ghost-mail from long, long ago.

Details | Prose Poetry | |



This is a cliché. That's my name for an old aside or an adage here we go into the 
world of CharlaXFabels once more gentle reader ewe 23 Skeedo. 23 skidoo 
 23 skidoo is an American phrase popularized in the early twentieth century, first 
appearing before WWI and becoming popular in the Roaring Twenties. It 
generally refers to leaving quickly, being forced to leave quickly by someone else 
or taking advantage of a propitious opportunity to leave, that is, "getting [out] while 
the getting's good." 
23 skidoo has been described as "perhaps the first truly national fad expression 
and one of the most popular fad expressions to appear in the U.S," to the extent 
that "Pennants and arm-bands at shore resorts, parks, and county fairs bore 
either [23] or the word 'Skiddoo.'" 
The exact origin of the phrase is uncertain. PHRASE. OH. Okay today we learn 
some old phrasers YOCK YOCK YUCK. All Wet - describes an erroneous idea or 
individual, as in, "he's all wet." This works better if you can remember the ABBOT 
bud and Costello lou he said an aweful lot of these phrases as everyday 
wordage. Abbott: Well Costello, I'm going to New York with you. You know Harris, 
the Yankee's manager, gave me a job as coach for as long as you're on the 
team. Costello: Look Abbott, if you're the coach, you must know all the players. 
Abbott: I certainly do. Costello: Well you know I've never met the guys. So you'll 
have to tell me their names, and then I'll know who's playing on the team. Abbott: 
Oh, I'll tell you their names, but you know it seems to me they give these ball 
players now-a-days very peculiar names. Costello: You mean funny names? 
Abbott: Strange names, pet Dizzy Dean Costello: His brother Daffy. 
Abbott: Daffy Dean...Costello: And their French cousin. Abbott: French? Costello: 
Goofè. Abbott: Goofè Dean. Well, let's see, we have on the bags, Who's on first, 
What's on second, I Don't Know is on third...Costello: That's what I want to find 
out. Abbott: What? Costello: I said I don't give a darn! Abbott: Oh, that's our 

Details | Light Poetry | |

fountain of youth

Every time I see my friend sapna
She looking more pretty
She find the fountain of beauty
And not giving the location to me

She laughs and says no NY
Its just good living
But she hiding the secret 
And she not giving

So I call romantic dude and htm
To hire them as two investigator
To follow her everywhere
To see if she go for more water

They follow her to my bistro
She had coffee, eggs and bread
She was going in Mandy’s
But gone J.C. penny instead

Then she had a chicken sandwich
Because she don’t like subway
Then gone home on wire club
To say to her friends today

The two investigators call me
Saying they quit the position
Now I have no one left
To follow up on my suspicion

I tell my friend jo-90 
Girl I have a job for you
She said no thanks she chatting
With Ruth and makeena too

So call my bro D_illusionist
But he chatting with Courtney
And sugar solutions not there
raj coming on at three

I wanted to ask suleena 
But she was playing bingo
June, bexsy and eda was away 
Shawn and adelle did not show

While every day goes by
Sapna looking prettier
And no matter what I say
Can’t get the secret from her

And I feel this is the truth
But I think it’s a conspiracy
Sapna and the rest of women
Hiding the fountain of beauty

So I got no choice right now
Will stick with my blueberries
And we will just wait until sapna
Share the fountain of youth with me

Details | Ottava rima | |


Even before the arrival of the first snows, so brilliantly candid, 
we climbed mounts less dangerous than the Alps's;
and we proudly chalked it up to our experience.
Now the snowy cliffs with bouffant boulders,
have lost their captious and so beatific image,
and quite too often we got pinched by burdock,
distracted by the robins chattering on a coarse descent;
I champed on crisp strawberries, while he challenged his strength.   

My buddy never castigated me for my bizarre behavior,
and I admired him for displaying  humor without repulsion, 
or retort, and with chisel and hammer we engraved faces of historic men
on the smoothest rocks which were replete with their handsomeness.
Those adventurous afternoons are repealed when we look up,
and recreate them through our Male Chauvinism, cheery not dumb;
we felt like cave men making rudimentary drawings of their hunted animals,
while their women picked wild chicory for an early dinner. 

Chums we were, resembling cowboys with wide hats in a chiaroscuro,
drinking in a bar filled with fashionable ladies frolicking and saying hello;
and chili con carne we ate, and plenty of beers to wash it down.
After our money was all squandered, our pockets were empty and we felt alone,
dazed...wobbling with fear, afraid to face our witless wives at home;
we were two idiots wooing empathy and some undeserving love.    
And didn't they seem two witches ready for vengeance in their frown,
trying to squeeze the truth out of our silent and pretentious mouths too fulsome?

Frost will bring winter soon, and the snowy cliffs with bouffant boulders will be covered,
our hair have turned almost white to match the bright color of the deep snows,
as this river is freezing up, to become a sheet of ice, where no boats or barges pass;
and we play chess, the intramural game of a confined life, without those clandestine affairs.
Our darlings approve with sweet intonation, intensifying their affection so amorous;
and we embrace them with that tenderness that they have long desired...
staring at the snowy cliffs with bouffant boulders that these two climbers made their own,
remembering the cold and the shivering...coming down to a valley of comfort and domain.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Narrative | |

Tuesday Night Poker

On the occasional Tuesday night,
with my mother at work
and my sisters and I 
in our pajamas,

my father would invite over
his brothers
and his friends from the lumberyard
to drink beer and play
five card stud.

I was allowed 
to greet each player and 
watch the opening hand.

Each man would arrive with something:
a sixer of canned Budweiser,
a bag of potato chips,
a metal band-aid box filled with nickels and dimes.

Benny, the stout and jolly lumberyard foreman
with his thick skinned paws and naked lady tattoo 
on his forearm,
would bring chocolate bars-
the king-sized ones 
from the candy aisle at the supermarket-
for my sisters and me.
He was like a blue collar Santa.

Uncle Guy brought his good luck charm-
a Canadian nickel.
Not knowing that it was not uncommon,
I’d be allowed to hold it and study it,
intrigued by the beaver.
My uncle would place the nickel on the table
next to his vodka on the rocks
and fresh deck of Pyramid lights
just before the first hand was dealt.

Uncle Buddy, with his Magnum mustache 
and light blue eyes,
would bring his laugh-
a hearty hoot of a laugh that would be heard,
although somewhat muffled,
through my bedroom walls
long after I brushed my teeth and was sent to bed.

I’d hear the snap and fizz of beer cans being opened
and the jingling and jangling of growing pots
as I lay in my bed,
wide awake with the caffeine from Benny’s chocolate bars.

Details | Free verse | |

"Oh Boy!"

“Oh Boy!”

Summer was swirling in my head.
Boys, romance novels, teen mags were all that I read.
I just got my car and my license, enough said.
“So, you’ve locked your car with your car engine running, your car alarm sounding,
your air conditioner blowing, your window shield wipers wiping, your radio blaring,
your headlights are glowing and your purse is in your car too?” asked Officer Ted.

True story.

Details | Sonnet | |


But soft! What light breaks through windshield yonder?
It is Mickey D’s.
Shall I stop, I ponder,
or shall not stopping be my destiny?

Those bronzed french fries,
full of transfat.
Their business will die,
if they get rid of that.

Oh! Those golden arches 
signify my next meal.
So what do I care of the starches?
I say, I’m getting a Happy Meal.

So if I’m sitting, eating with joy,
don’t mess with me, or my toy.

Details | Light Poetry | |


This is the man that I am

No need for a detective because I have few mysteries

Whatever you don’t find its trapped somewhere inside my mind

I put my life into words for the whole world to read

I hope you enjoy what you see

A South Korean English teacher by night

An avid writer by day

A helpless romantic somewhere in between

The smile and joy from my students is priceless

Seeing someone enjoy my writings is pretty rewarding as well

I feel that everything in my life is finally going well

From my writings you may find that hard to tell

Sorry I don’t write more fantasies or fables

To convey happy emotions and attract more followers

You are getting my life through my eyes

I don’t have a sweet tooth so I don’t sugarcoat things

I write what I have seen and how it has effected me

My adventures and journeys have been vast

Come with me on this ride

Together we can both be pleasantly surprised

With what I will write

This is the the man that I am

Find more of my writings and poems at

Details | ABC | |


Thanksgiving Day has arrived 
in the nippy month of November,
and the dining room is in a festive mood;
Holiday music is softly playing in the living room...
the aromatic smell of the oven roasted gobbler
spreads to each room, to make everyone drool
for a taste  of this delicacy in the late afternoon,      
I bet all of them would!    

Yesterday morning I went to the local supermarket,
and looked for the youngest and fattest turkey,
the one which is tender and moist...a turkey guests love to eat;
and when I spotted the best one, I hurled it into my shopping cart,
and went straight to the cashier acting a little crazy,
knocking down piles of canned food all over the floor,
and making all the customers scream!
Somebody next to me yelled,
" Young man, be careful...look out!" 
Over there...another pile of tomato sauce jars
fell and the breaking glass sounded
worse than a quake hitting this quite town!
Embarrassed, and somewhat hilarious for the unexpected mess,
I rushed out with my heavy shopping bag...trudging like a hunchback!

The oven roasted gobbler steams on the table deplete
with lots of Holiday treats: eggnog, apple cider,
cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, roasted chestnuts
and a set of red candles to match the glossy plates;
O gobbler so perfectly cooked, you're ready for the sharp knife,
and be cut by the volunteer who will say, "Grace!"
O gobbler so tasty and young, wouldn't you love
to come back to life...and poke everyone with your beak?

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Free verse | |

It Works

Those leather pants fit perfectly
Against your skin. I can’t stop
Staring; You can’t stop teasing -
It keeps me up all night,
Struggling to

Keep shouting.
Nothing is resolved when you slam
The bedroom door - Don’t sleep
Angry. You know I hate it when you

Surprise me in the shower and
Turn the screws until I
Can’t even think. All the blood
Rushes to my head when I
Clutch the curtain – you know
I am there.
I see you see me as I

Hope we won’t wake up bitter in the morning,
Casting those cross couch glances and
Judging. Your eyes are killer

Aphrodisiacs, constantly seducing me
Like that time I had to
Pin you in the grass.
As the rain came down I kissed
Your lips and cradled you.
I can still close my eyes and hear you whisper

“You’ve left the toilet seat up again,”
I tell you that I’m sorry but we both know
In the dim light of the television set
I am barely listening.
You smile and shake your head,
For therein lies a flaw you choose to live with.
You swear, one of these days you are going to

Turn off the light and kiss
Every inch of my body
In honor of my being me,
And in honor of your being you,
I will return the favor.
Afterward, we’ll lie in love,
Smiling in a comfortable silence

Like the uncomfortable silences
At the ends of those trivial arguments
You start yet can’t finish.
There is no retort for my abashing.
You say you’re sorry but we both know
That you don’t really mean it,
So I make sacrifices I choose to live with.
I swear one of these days I am going to

Cook the most wonderful meal,
The kind where silence is a compliment
Ending with content smiles,

Doing the dishes,
Cursing at new shirt stains and small cuts
From knives hidden under soap water

We don’t really mind the healing process.
I sleep and think, Tomorrow
I should walk to the jewelry store and look over
Diamonds, as I think of our
Long nights, walking through lit up old villages
Cuddling on the couch in the television light
Drunkenly kissing beside bonfires
Sharing friends and glances
And love and life for good or for worse,
Carrying the same heart.

I can always push that button
That has you turn me on,
Be it a laugh, a smile, a sting, or a bite.
We do what it takes to make us happy
And it works,
Especially when you put on
Those leather pants.

Details | I do not know? | |

Windows and Boxes

Then and now,
my favorite thing to do
has always been
looking through windows,
looking in boxes.

I can still recall
that day.
Ten years old,
my first Pokémon.

My friends were my Pokémon,
my emotions were calculated through damage multipliers.
It was the life.

Now, my old friends gather
under my bed,
yet do not age.
But I have aged so much.

Stuck with humans present, I cry for those digital friends,
whom I could love without judgment,
whose overall reliability was a tangible number
in that Game Boy window,
where the only drama I felt
came in pixilated, perfectly perpendicular text boxes.

Humans are so flawed,
but not those Pocket Monsters,
whose margins of error were always measured
in a perfectly percentaged probability.

I know amazing people
who volunteer, serve, love.
they are deluded, imperfect.

I had a creature with low power, basic moves, and that always lost.
but It

Details | Bio | |

Just Too Remember


I used to put thing's
Where I could remember
So that I could find
Now, I can't remember
Where I put them....


Details | Quatrain | |


The warm spring rain still falls on the cherry trees,
pelting on the sodden and drooping *lavender lilies...
forming a small lake, where playful robins
bathe and fend off the thrusting, thirsty shrikes.

Soon children will come out and act dippy...
chased by wild puppies and mousy kitties
fighting over their stuffed, torn bears;
oh, there goes my peace and *tranquility!  

The *fragrant lilacs are in dire need of growth and color,
lately they haven't soaked up enough sun and raindrops:
tingeing them, allowing them to revel in their *splendor;
never denying lovers the *dulcet tones of their voices.

The tranquil skies conjure up a past *bliss,
can a poet's unrhymed words, emitted in a *whisper, go on *lilting?
He will delightfully inhale the strong perfume of the breeze *wafting!
And will he create verses with *eloquence?

Entered in Andrea Dietrich's contest,
Word Warrior Challenge: Beautiful Words

Details | Free verse | |

It's a Little Funny

It's a little funny how i turned out
Most of the time my mother jokes
That I made it this far
With sunshine on sugar coated words and eyes brimmed with hope
Almost like green tea on a rainy day with a guitar playing in the next room
Different chords always strum my heart and seldom i know where to go
Seldomly, can i make the choice to be led or to lead
to give or to recieve a Heart
can't really take much more of the toxins he dishes out
  thus i am disoriented with vain poetry written on my bedside wall
only shadows can relate to that time
Oh my how time flies
oh my how many times can it fly
past the window into the street, into the stream of which both of us meet
and my poet, my art, my love
so heavy with life how far can it soar
baby how far can it soar
until it stabs your heart with my complete patheticuselessSELF

B  r  e  a  t  h  e

it gets so hard to breathe but it's harder alone especially when
  my dust, dust, dust can only collect on things that don't move
  so how come my dust follows me around
like an unbroken cloud eager to rain on your parade
It's a little funny that you say
how beautiful I am
when you are so much more beautiful yourself
I love that brown skin your in
it makes me think of honey covered chocolate
satin smooth and broken your eyes
broken like me
broken like you
  we should put ourselves, broken, together, whole
it's a little funny how 

Classical music on sunday afternoons always calm me down
with the window open and curtains blowing a little faith into my
  It;s a little funny how we put dead things in our bodies to be alive
Or how we destroy others to survive
 It's a little funny how my hand fits yours perfectly, but honey coated chocolate has 
always been my favorite
And it's a little funny of course, 
you and I
vague figures in the sunset covered with my dust and a little bit of your
honey coated magic. 

Details | I do not know? | |

Don't forget the sausages

Pop down to the shops Son
I need some bits and bobs
Just a few potatoes
And a dozen crusty cobs
While you’re there, you might as well
Get carrots and some greens
Some frozen peas, some sugar
And a tin of Heinz baked beans
Some tea, I think we need some
Minced beef for shepherds pie
A pound of cheese, the Leicester
We’ll give that one a try
We haven’t any biscuits
You know the ones I like
Only get two packets, mind
Be careful on your bike
When you get back I’ll do some
Bread and dripping for your tea
A slice of bread and scrape for you
And sausages for me

© John W Fenn  03-07-2009

Details | I do not know? | |

Holding a Sporting Event...

And as could stand naked in front of others...
Do to all the better be important...
So this crazy thought of standing naked...any clues...
Something you missed growing up...seen something in a yard sale...
All this nature calls...
If it comes down to many can you get to join you...
Then you could get into the law about doing a sporting event...
If your under'll be new...
But the over forty use to it...
It's nothing to see it all...It's the thrill...
Or is something about a dare...
Would you show it all...
Let the world see what you've got...crazy this is not...
For to get passed the security and remove all...
That takes knowing how long the law will take to get to you...
So it important to know the law and when to run...
The second best part is how many will join you...
That just like holding a sporting event...

Details | Haiku | |

Old Man Winter

top of old smokey
covered with frost - when bow breaks
old man winter blows

Details | Acrostic | |

I Love Lucy

I loved to watch her as a child

Laughing at her antics and cooing at her wilds
Over the top trouble and silly jokes played
Viewing every show I could, before my parents waned
Every Thursday night (I think) I'd called it Lucy Day!

Lounging on my bed and letting my head watch this parade
Ultra color, or black and white, to me it didn't matter
Cause that silly red head eating all the chocolate, was always on my platter
You try saying vita-vite-vegamin, without getting drunk!

I missed the shows I watched when I was little
Those actors where way before may birth
but I enjoyed her friend and funny neighbors Fred and Ethel Merts
But let's not forget Ricky, the Cuban mamba king
But It was always funny when he yelled: LUCY!!!!!!!!
...O RICKY! She didn't mean thing!

Details | Cowboy | |

' The Cowboy's Compliment ... ' (Cowboy Poem # 4)

Now, Early from Young Womanhood
I Owe A Cowboy, My Confidence
Seems Nobody, Can Build A Woman Up
Like A Cowboy’s Compliment

… I Was On My Lunch Hour
While Working At A Bank Downtown
I Went To Piccadilly’s Cafeteria
… got Line-Selection and Sat Down

They Say, ‘You Never Know Who’s Looking’
And I Can See, That’s True
And I’m Gonna’ Give You Proof
By What Those Two Cowboys, Did Do …

The Piccadilly’s Was Full
‘Cause There Was An Oil-Show In Town
Two Western Hats and Suits Passed My Table
One Tall-Blue, and One Tall-Brown

And One, Picked Up My Ticket
Don’t Remember Which, (It Was A Quick-Draw)
I Was Busy, Sugaring Tea
Shiny-Boots Passing, Was All I Saw …

It Took A Moment for Mild-Shock, to Go
Realizing I Had No Menu-Ticket
‘Til One of Them, At The Register, Pointed At Me
and Paid … That’s Why They Picked-It

Now, I Had An Office-Outfit On
And, I Didn’t Think It Was All That …
But Obviously, My Suit, Hairdo, and Polished-Heels
Inspired Them To Pick Up The Check …

Now, They Didn’t Try To Flirt
They, Didn’t Say A Word To Me …
Just Walked Out Into The Texas Sunshine
Handing Me A High-Noon-Flattery …

And Since from My Young Womanhood
I Often Smile At Those Cowboy’s Compliment
And Ain’t Nobody Been Able To
“ Tell Me, I Ain’t All That – " Sense “  ! !


          A True Tale …


Details | Free verse | |

A fresh 3mx3m canvas is on the floor..

To paint I do so adore..
Four cans of paint are waiting to be poured...
I hear you say "What for?"

Let's use a ladle we have in store.
Are you sure?
Let's fill a super-soaker...

On a tilt-a-door?

your action painting is now drying
on the rumpus-room floor.

Details | I do not know? | |


                                   OUTLAW JUSTICE

Frank and Jesse James strapped there pistols on their sides
The Youngers got together and saddled up to ride.
   Butch and all his gang made ready at the wall
   Sundance made his final bet in the gambling hall.
Billy at the time was only seventeen
but he was faster with a gun than most had ever seen.
    The Clantons were all fuming cause Wyatt made them out a clown
     they were hell bent on revenge the Erpps were going down.
Doc was sitting on a couch coughing up his lungs
sitting with a rag in hand cleaning up his gun.
     A stranger on a pale horse had met them one and all
     he told them they would all meet up, when he came back to call.
The time had come for paybacks they have had enough
the law and order marshals simply were unjust.
    The outlaws all decided they should talk it over first
     but when they got together it was a meeting of the worst.
Sun dance stared at Billy who spit in Jesses face
gun shots started echoing all about the place.
     When the rider on his pale horse, rode up in the dusk
     everyone was dead and gone and turning into dust.
so much for outlaw justice, or perhaps it was indeed
a justice much befitting, for a dying breed.
                                                                "the phantom"

Details | Senryu | |

Summer Pool

Summer Pool
Bikini time fun;
hanging ten by the cool pool,
grinning men enjoy.

Summer Season Senryu

Details | Light Poetry | |

Hooked On Bermujan

Dyu need to get dyu a copy
Of de Bermujan Vurds dicshunairy
de Rocks, translator of choice,
de primary “slanguage’ of all
dem Bermewjan children dat 
speak in de flat saun of my woice.

Is British Standard English 
or de "Queen's English"
or de Bermudian dialect,
required to past de test?,
Vitch one conserves de
Bermujan’s truly unique
cultural identity at its best?

Dem Byes on de Rock say
“Jus de locals, have de right
each born Bermys arryvun, 
to Bermuda status, for dey
alone are de peoples of dis
hur Islands of de Beribbean.

Is it de distinct vey of speaking
dat attracts de tourist to dese isles’
and businessmen from far avay,
Or de friendliness of ve mujans
only, dat make dem all 
come hur to work and play.

Shaped like a fish hook
de island’s natural beauty 
and crystal clear vawda 
catches dem good and tight,
Maybe dey come hur to stay
on der extended work permits
to claim de Bermujan birthright.

Only time vill tell if deez 
immigrant paper Bermujans, 
vill displace all de locals 
arryvun young and old,
Splitizens all of distant shores 
dat vill one dey change dese 
Islands of the Beribbean 
into “Anower Vurld”

© Eugene Harvey

Details | Free verse | |


Hazel-eyed Ma grew the loveliest begonias
on her neat and colorful balcony; and if rains
were scarce, she would water them...
until the fragrant buds would bloom!

Exactly at eight o' clock, for three seasons,
she tendered for them with her caring hands;
and no weeds would mar their beauty so exquisite...
all the nuns came rushing from the Convent!

Sing, adorable mother, sing another aria...the happiest one,
as you caress your flowers with the gentlest touch;
crowds will gather underneath your festive balcony, to listen
with interest and acclaim you for your superb vocals! 

Hazel-eyed Ma grew the loveliest begonias not seen
in the most spacious and elegant gardens;
she suddenly was known as the flower woman,   
but also became the envy of many housewives.    

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Free verse | |

Runcorn Moonlit Romance

Through the erotic alleyways
of dim set lamppost light,
smoky the figure struts on by
to catch the last bus of the night.
It's gone past eleven,
and it's down grim lucks drive,
but she'd've danced till dawn
swimming in any old dive-
Off goes the lady of liquor,
toes screeching to be a little quicker,
Her blisters cry to green sleeves 
But she daren't try paddling in hazer's heap.
And she is in presence of charm
by tweens and men offering her arm.
They serenade her beauty in heckled praise:
"Your dead fit- give us a gob-job la"
and with a hickup she giggles,
and coyly flutters her stuck on eyes.

Oh the seductive sound of chavs zipper
that to her delight moonlight flicker
gives a hint to their gift like that of the ripper.
She passes by,
oh those gentle pricks of enticement-
the serenade fading to silence,
meeting her backed against the wall.
Nervous she presses her dress to her stomach,
blushing she takes her other hand
seductively pressing it on her lips and down her throat.
He grabs her wrist and thrusts his surprise toward it,
she bows her head in submission,
taking a firm grip-
she lurches and twists.

"There you go" she legs it. 

Details | Ode | |

the leaves of fall

red, gold, yellow, green  
and a warm brown
the colors of the fall leaves 
laying upon the ground
one Saturday morning, 
I worked very hard
raking up all those leaves 
in my backyard
and once I finally got a big pile 
looking nice and neat
a devilish grin came over my face 
before I decided to leap
and with the jubilation 
of an innocent little child
I ran full speed and jumped onto 
that big leafy pile
laughing and thrashing about
I had me a ball
rolling around in my backyard
in the colorful leaves of fall

Details | Heroic Couplets | |


When I peep into past
And recall life's early morn
Present life stings and pains
Like sting of cactus thorn
For a while I get lost
In sweet memories of playful days
Little playmates and their funny ways
Tops and marbles and kites
Petty squabbles and fist-fights
Eyes wonderous,colored objects
Burlap bags and fragile slates
But like brilliant night of fullmoon
This flashback too recedes soon
And again the cycle of life
Same domestic chores same
Familiar wife

Details | Free verse | |

Pollock Afternoon

Orange streaks across the horizon
and supple reds sloppily dot
like stars in a naked sky.

Browns are all engulfing now.
A hungry wolf, 
steadily eating up the page.

Yellow splashes play second fiddle
to the darkening and
The greens melt like blocks of fresh ice
on an Indian summer’s day.

Details | Senryu | |

Toho Studios Presents...

Gabriel groaning:
" Another Godzilla flick!"  ( 3 second delay on sound track.)
Almighty critic. ( Cue theme music and metallic pipe organ roar.)

Details | Rhyme | |

Majestical Land

I was carried away up and over a topped stack just the other day,
By the oceans of blue cascading across shadows of magnifying rays of sunlight!
One by one they dashed through the trickery Sun as if they had no night.
I was drawn much closer in watching the Moon reflecting on the ones that sway.
Then I was taken by the swishy swore of the bouncy Sea rolling as the tide came in.
I just so happen to be taking a much deeper breath as the stars lit up like shields of sheer.
Breathless I just took it all in, over and over again until I saw there was truly no end.
Marveled, just down right marveled at the time I already just simply spend,
Then I saw a most wondrous bumbling bee, soaring aimlessly through Majestical Land. 
All in a single moment with time to spare, I saw balls of bouncing thunderous lights.
Then it was a much greater reach for a more logistical articulate helping hand.
Then I saw big white fluffy balls unfolding in the heavenly quaking open sky.
One by one colliding atop the luxury of just floating or shuffling them self right on by.
Marveled, downright marveled at what was passing me by, I just knew I’d die.
I absolutely was standing beneath the Majesties undeniably clever designated plans.
I saw blueprints and designs above the weighty scales and receipts.
What strategy for self-defeat with the books I write and keep!
Hooting and hollering cheering louder in Majestical Land, with my brilliant plan!
But then I was carried all the way back to the toppling stack,
The Majestical Land amazingly had not one single little lack.
“Marveling I tell you”! “Just down right Marveling”! 

Details | Free verse | |


In my sixteens I used to go to Rockaway Park
on the A train made famous by Armstrong's song,
it had rides, small restaurants and a clean beach...
there I got golden brown with lots of cappertone.
I looked more handsome in a tan that boys envied,
and flexing my sexy body, I seduced many girls.

Back then in the late sixties, gals who whistled
to get a boy's attention was considered rude,
had they lived today, it would have been quite normal...
has any woman winked at you when you walked 
on the boardwalk or lay on a beach towel?
Don't be embarrassed because lifestyles change... 
and we must change, if we ought to fit in!

Sometimes romance or flirting didn't come that easily,
with a long face I hopped on the train and viewed 
the Jamaica Bay with its wild life unfolding before me...
the quietest place for a teenager who loved Nature;
and while many sunsets saw me spell-bound,
I hated to go back and live the mundane life, 
but at least I had gotten an adorable tan and looked hot! 

My completion is ruddy as Adam's was...what a healthy, attractive color!
It wont take much sunblock to get darker than those California guys...
what about the pretty girls seen on Baywatch? Pamela looks great in summer.
And crossing my fingers, I wish for one like that to excite my nights!

Details | Free verse | |


Waking up with fifteen warm strangers.
One with a cold, another with your clothes on.
Missing your toothbrush and your wife:
remembering that one of them is on the other side of the room.

Waking up in fifteen long minutes.
Finding your friends, remembering why you're here.
Leading up to an argument in the lounge:
but only about your jumper, and who's making coffee for the guests.

Waking up with fifteen coffee mugs.
One from the fridge, another full of sour wine.
Missing your mouth and the milkman:
relieved to know that one of them's still active at this late hour.

Waking up with fifteen best friends.
Black coffee. Lots of sugar makes amends.
Already planning the next visit to the house.
But only if it's summer, and who's going to do the guest list for a change? 

Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Art Of Dancing ... ' (Part 1 of 2)

‘ The  Art  Of  Dancing… ’

Oh ! … How I Love To Dance
Why… Do I Love To Dance ? …
… it’s Rhythmic … it’s Ritual
The Body Is So Beautiful !

Oh ! … How I Love To Dance
Why … Do I Love To Dance ? …
If You’re Breathing – You Ain’t Still
Check Your Heartbeat and It Will …

Dance … Into A Fantasy
Virtual Reality
Dancing Makes Me Feel So Free
… Come and Do A Dance With Me

Dancing … is Good Exercise
Dancing … Adds A Spice to Life
Dancing … is A Natural High
You Can Do It … If You Try …

… Head, Shoulders, Legs, Feet
Get ‘em Moving to The Beat
Back, Arms, Hands, Hips
Shake, Stomp, Slide, Slip

Bend, Bop, Break, Bounce
Push, Pull, Prance, Pounce
Soul-Roll, Slow, Fast
Jump, Jiggle … All That Jazz !

Dancing … is A Form of Joy
Do It ! … Baby Girl and Boy
Keep The Music, Playing Please
Honey … Just Look At Your Knee !

When I Dance … I Come Alive !
Waltz, Cha-Cha, Swing, Jive
Circle, Square, Line, Freestyle
Tango, or Step – Side to Side

Innocent – Interaction
Expression – Satisfaction
Set-it-in Motion … You and I
… Aaw, Just Look At That Guy

Oh ! … I See You’re Moving Now !
… thought You Didn’t Know How ?
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! … He! He! He! …
You Dance ‘bout as Good as Me ! …

Supper-Club, or in My Room
At Your House … or Under The Moon
If I Hear A Real-Good Tune …
You Will Know, I’m Dancing Soon

… Dance … Into A Fantasy
         Virtual Reality
Dancing Makes Me Feel So Free
… Come Dancing Now … With The MoonBee

Posted for:  Jared Pickett, ‘Cause I Know
       He Loves To Dance… (Smile)


Details | Senryu | |


What a funny sight
One not often seen these days
Gram in  pink short shorts

Details | Prose Poetry | |

American Scream - The Bill Hicks Story

Bill beat them to death. Verbose and belligerent, banal and brilliant, Hicks would beat
you with a joke until you weren’t sure it was funny any more. But you’d still laugh.
Advertising advocates he indicated, would be best dealt with through suicide. Like
lemmings, but really jumping.

Clearly he can’t have so concisely come down on those poor cretins alone. Blasting and
berating the bourgeoisie, leaving no stone unturned. Advocating erogenous interaction and
nature’s narcotics never felt so fresh.

He cut a legendary figure, shining in mono on the stage, an anti-hero in the spotlight,
questioning the questionable and querying great quandaries for our bite-sized attention
spans. All joking asides and jeering anecdotes. The great, the goat, Gods and grass
gripped us throughout. 

In his own immortal words, life is just a ride. Rails and loops, dips and troughs. Thrills
and chills. 

Bill’s the ticket inspector. Taking names and kicking ass. 

Details | Fibonacci | |


making rocks
paper & scissors-
in old fashioned digital games.

Details | Light Poetry | |


Sixty-Six Sixty-Six Ford Mustangs
Rusting on Sixty-Six acres
Of the Mustang Ranch since
Sixty-Six parking tickets
attached to Sixty-Six Sixty-Six
Ford Mustangs
Stuck on Sixty-Six acres
Of the Mustang Rance
Sixty-Six Ladies of the Night
Sixty-Six lacy hankies held
In Sixty-Six dainty hands,
Waving at Sixty-Six Deputy Sheriffs
Supervising Sixty-Six County
Oh those Sixty-Six Poor Unfortunate
Gonna cost each Sixty-Six bucks
They could'a spent on
Sixty-Six Sweet Sexy hours,
With Sixty-Six Sweet Sexy Gals,
Oh well,
Sixty-Six, "Oh, What the Hell!"s

Details | Pastoral | |


It's summer, It's hot 
and I'm praying It won't rain
on my way to the beach
riding the F train
I get to Coney Island 
and from the boardwalk I see the sand
looking out towards the ocean
on the beach I now stand

a day at the beach
I can hardly wait
to sit under the rays of the sun
and play in the waves
I lay down my  blanket
and set-up my umbrella stand
I place my cooler of goodies
firmly in that sand
I slather on the sun blocker
for I need protection
I stand at the water's edge
at look down at my reflection

a day at the beach
frolicking in the ocean's waves
a memory form childhood
that I will treasure and save

Details | Ballad | |

' ... For The Old Men ... ' (or It Ain't Over Yet)

He Thought, ‘Cause He Was Old
And the Other Guy, was Just ‘Sprung’
That He didn’t have a Chance To Hold
His Own, Against The ‘Young-Un’ …

And In Spite of His Many Years
… Worn-Well, Like Battle-Scars
The Boy, Wet, Behind The Ears
Challenged Him For Love, Thru War …

… The Rival, Dressed In Handsome-Glory
And showed His Young-Man’s Strength
And Polished Up, His Manners, Solely …
To Flatter, The Lady at Length …

So … The Old Man … Stopped His Visits
To The Woman of His Dreams
His Last Chance … and He’d Missed It …
Due To Failing Eyesight and Self-Esteem

But, the Object of Their Desire
A Woman, Fully-Grown
One of Beauty and Hidden Fire
Already Chose, What Her Heart – Known

So, She Went to See The Old Man
Her Senior, by Twenty-Years
And She Took Him, By the Hands
And This:  Is What He Hears:

“ … Hon, I’m Just Like Fine-Wine
Aged and Mellow, Taste Real Good
I Flow in a Smooth-Line
… and I Thought You Understood …

I Already Been In The Barrel
I Already Reached My Peak
My Vintage, Ain’t Just Alcohol
You Know, I’m Warm and Sweet

… and I Need A Man To Hold Me
Like A Decanter, Strong and Bright
… Crystal-Clear, Around Me
And Sparkling-Eyes, in the Light

I Need Him, Cut-To-Perfection
With Many Facets, At Each Turn
And Fluted with Affection
So, When He Pours … He Still Yearns

Now, An Old Decanter, Like This
Takes Time, and Design To Make
It Doesn’t Spill A Kiss
Or Fall-Down, Shatter and Break …

Its Been Tested, for Its Value
Adds Worth, to Any Room
I Give It, Its Due …
It’s a Genuine Heirloom !

Now, These Words, Go-Down Pretty
You May Think, ‘Don’t Mean A Thing’
But, I Need A Dose of Maturity
More Jump, Than Grape-Juice Brings …”

 - - - - - -

The Woman, Said Her Sincere Words
Then She Kissed His Weathered Cheek
And Wondered If He’d Heard
When He Still, Didn’t Speak …

… Then He Gently Grabbed Her Close
As It Finally, Soaked In …
… ‘It’s Me, She Chose ! …’
… The Old-Man, Gave A Boyish-Grin !

And He Held Her, Like A Decanter
Holds The Finest, Best Wine
… Caressed and Prized and Hugged Her
And Softly Whispered … “Mine !”

As She Swirled Perfumed Nectar
And Shy Drops Upon His Lips
An Intoxicating Sampler …
… The Old Man, Took A Sip …

Next Time, When He Saw His Rival
He Knew, He’d  Have Some Fun
As He Waited For His Arrival …
To Tell Him, ‘You’re Not Cut-Out For This One, Son …

Details | I do not know? | |

No strings attached

In my mind I see you. 
Your handsome bronze body. 
Your eyes reflect your honesty. 
I want to hold you near me. 
No strings attached. 

In my dreams I see you. 
Your stong arms outstretched. 
Your long fingers reaching out. 
I want to lie with you. 

In my eyes I see you, 
your face so handsome. 
Your looking at me. 
I want to kiss your lips. 
No strings attached. 

The dreams are now gone, 
and I'm left with the one. 
whose eyes now need 
jam jar glasses, 
to gaze at the lasses. 

Reality at last. 
that body went fast, 
as all travelled South, 
through him stuffing his mouth. 
with enough to feed an army. 

The arms crack and grate, 
as I patiently wait, 
whilst he finds his specks. 
to give me goodnight pecks. 
Before he creaks into bed. 

The snores he emits, 
have frightened the kids 
and keep our neighbours awake, 
till I give him a shake. 
Then he starts again within minutes. 

What a difference takes place. 
It's a bloomin disgrace. 
when I have to compete with Viagra. 
But inspite of all that 
I wont change him, for my dream man. 
Cause now those Strings are attached!

Details | Rhyme | |

Today She Got Her License!!

Today she got her license.
She now thinks she's all grown.
I can't believe my baby
can drive to town ALONE.

Although I tried to fight it, 
the time kept passing by.
Is it wrong to drag my heals? 
You know... I had to try! ! 

She use to be so small.
It seems like yesterday
when I would watch her sing her songs
and giggle while she'd play.

I have to trust her judgement.
Of course she knows what's right.
I pray God keeps her by His side
even when she's not in sight.

Details | Free verse | |

In Memoriam for My Old Kitty, Shadow

Fat you were, beyond description.
Jabba the Hut had nuthin' on you.
From a scruffy little Brillo-pad sized stray
Your appetite ballooned you
To an incontinent continent of feline adiposity.

A fur covered Butterball turkey
With attitude
You never failed to fall below expectation,
Seemingly unable or unwilling 
To grasp the concept of the litterbox.

And to think we named you Shadow.
Even that part of you looked heavy.

You'd just sit on something that groaned beneath you,
Paw draped across that vast white belly,
And look at me like, "Well?"

Then one day,
Too chubbed to make it across the street in time,
Some car bopped your noggin
And knocked the life outta you.

They brought you to me
Unmarked yet dead;
I crammed your soft bulk into a bootbox
And buried you under our big tree out back.

Death gave you a measure of dignity
Unattainable in life,
As I suppose, in the end, it does us all.

Details | Cowboy | |

' Western Shows ... '

It Started Out With Roy Rogers
Then Moved On To John Wayne
My Family, Loved To Watch ‘Gun Smoke’,
‘The Rifleman’ and ‘Shane’ …

Mine, Were ‘The Big Valley’
‘Bonanza’ And ‘High Chaparral’
Paladin’s, ‘Have Gun Will Travel’
And ‘Rawhide’ and ‘Wagon Train’ Trails

And ‘The Lone Ranger’, ‘Zorro’, and ‘Johnny Ringo’,
‘Bat Masterson’ ‘Branded’, then, ‘Wild, Wild West’ Came
And Oh, How Could I Forget …
Clint Eastwood’s, ‘The Man With No Name’ …

So, ‘Tombstone’, ‘Silverado’, ‘Unforgiven’, ‘Appaloosa’
‘Quick and The Dead’, ‘Wyatt Earp’ and ‘3:10 to Yuma’
All Join The Ranks of Big-Western, Showdown Scenes
and Even ‘F-Troop’ and ‘Blazing Saddles’, Rode Onto My TV Screen

Details | I do not know? | |

It's Funny...

It's funny, you know?
How this entire thing started...
Boy meets girl, they're from two different worlds,
Boy miraculously proves himself:
They end up together

The funny thing is, did we really have a choice?
Same classes, close lockers, same homerooms,
Sometimes I feel this was forced,
But not in the beginning,
In the beginning it was beautiful

It was funny how it started, you know?
He treasured her, loved and respected her,
She felt special, wanted, and cared for,
He tells her that she's beautiful,
He tells her that he loves her

It's funny how we grew on each other, right?
From online conversations to midnight visits,
How hugs were exchanged for kisses,
And kisses yielded love,
In the beginning it was beautiful

The funny thing is how time changes things
How infatuation can grow to love, passion, obsession
How he, who used to stare at her,
Now doesn't spare a wayward glance,
Doesn't tell her that she's beautiful

It's funny how you never really know someone,
That is, until you've spent a lot of time together
But Boy and Girl couldn't get enough,
They were so intense and electrifying
In the beginning it was beautiful

It's funny how he used to talk to her,
With such care and measured voices,
Being sure not to offend, hurt, or disrespect
How he used to treat her as if she'd disappear,
He doesn't talk to her the same

It's funny how she just takes it,
She's never taken disrespect from anyone,
But her love of his past is strong,
And her excuses made for him surpass it all
She feels unappreciated

It's funny how he used to touch her,
With such gentle, tender fingers,
Caressing her side and brushing the hair from her face,
Now fingers are lustful, and a lover's tongue is at her side
He is changing

It's funny how he used to play for her,
Just to see a smile graze her lips,
Just to see the stars dance in her eyes,
To feel the warmth of her skin on his arm,
Now he is changing

His voice is viced; his touch, transparent;
His gaze, a once over; his reverence, indifferent;
His melodies, silent; his kiss, shallow;
His love, unproved;
Now he is changing.

Details | Verse | |

Sundance Kid


Lively bursts of sudden air arise out of my sighs of rushed venom-
-out pops my eyes.
I can't believe my sight--I see my kid in Sundance dance,
all eager to please and pump.
The courage gives the love, it lives, it's alive
it's spreads out of his body, only five.
While he's flying off the ground I think to myself, he's got to be kidding around.

What's up is love and freedom and dancing in the sun.
My son lit, light bright and orange yellow streaks coming out of his being. 
He's just being a kid, right?
He kicks up his small, brown stamped leather boots,
with little blue jean jeans and his red bandana shirt.
His hat on his head is cowboy suede and he yelps,
"I am the Sundance Kid, and rain drops keep falling on my head", as he falls into 
the muddy dirt.
I swirl and twirl, my brain rambling, and blankly stare in strange glaring curiosity.

"How does he know who the Sundance Kid is?"  "How does he know Raindrops 
Keep Falling On My Head?"
And just as I am pondering the mysteries of a child's consciousness, a bicycle 
built for two rides by and the rain begins to pour in front of my panicked, 
frightened astonished adult face.  My child begins to sing "Raindrops Keep 
Falling on My Head" and I hear the sound of music.
Marla Stone

Details | Bio | |


Nose pressed flat upto the glass,
Pockets tinkling full of brass;
Oblong jars,row on row
Candy -filled,to over flow.

Mintoes,chews and Pontefract cakes,
Limes and milk chocolate flakes;
Jelly beans and sweet love-hearts,
A few of each ,just to start.

Toffee whirls and butterscotch,
Long liquorice laces,all top-notch;
Aniseed balls,French bonbons,
Available now without coupons.

Sugared almonds and white mice,
Vanilla fudge,a penny a slice!
Just for starters a chocolate ice,
As it's going at half-price.

Barley sugar and a sherbert straw,
The shop bell tinkles as I close the door;
Is that th time! I'll have to skate,
Back into school,I can't be late.

Details | Ballad | |

Vanishing Sands

He bounds with class like a souped-up Benzo
Slick hair defies gravity and air flow
More charm for the maidens than Lorenzo
Nod and a wink as he offers hello

Dressed to the gills like a TV comic
His voice rolling to knock down those stacked pins
Punching through Vegas with force atomic
Regardless the price he still always wins

They call him D-Bone, the lolling salesman
Eager to cement melodious deals
One step ahead of the scowling bailsman
All while he's molting his naive ideals

Muses abound from that puffy wineskin
No slowing down so he cannot look back
Trading brew city for all that dull sin
He's jamming while crooning to the rat pack

"How many swimming pools have they got here?"
He points while nodding to the lounged ladies
Reveling within this neon frontier
Baking his brains while chauffeured through Hades

Filled with mirth despite jonesing for cash
Vowing with pumped fists to never slink back
Pondering how he shall make his big splash
Those jaded fiends gauge him as just a hack

What they don't know could fill a museum
For he esteems and comprehends the past
These stuffed shirts would build a mausoleum
Before they'd construct relations that last

In his mind he hangs with Frank Sinatra
When respect held clout and coolness was king
Romantic songsmiths governed the genre
Liberated minds stormed at full swing

D-Bone refuses to pluck their ticket
As they tell him he needs to wait in line
When confronted he tells them to stick it
Keenly scanning the distance for cloud nine

Details | Burlesque | |

The Strawshank Redemption

last time that I went food shopping
I saw something I'd not seen in many years
Flavor- straws for milk....
nostalgia flooded my eyes with tears

I bought the strawberry flavor,
cause that was all they had
I would'a preferred chocolate,
but nevertheless I was quite glad

when I got down to my last one,
(see I love to drink my milk)
I found somehow I'd chucked
the last one in the sink

well no 2 cent straw will I waste
not when it's strawberry I could taste
so I grabbed it for redemption,
guess I grabbed too hard
all I had in my hand,
was the mid shank somewhat marred

goes to show you impulsive acts,
can sometimes go astray
so listen to me children,
hear what I have to say

patience, patience is a virtue
this you know is true
so don't go grasping at straws!
they'll just disappoint you!!!

Details | Rhyme | |

The Old and Unsightly

I am aware
of the Youth that has faded
But Smiles all around
will not make me feel jaded
An ancient Bluto displaying 
first signs of flab
Age to stay
So why should I be an old-time crab?
Fast food to indulge
Having lost the battle of the bulge
My LINES are a sight to see
peer across and fear it NATURALLY
Today for the young
Our time departed
Listen to the children
This generation becoming OLD HEARTED
The end is near
Our beginning becoming clear

For them
The YOUTH and the MIGHTY
As for ourselves:

Details | Rhyme | |

Gone are the days

Gone are the days of poodle skirts and bobbie socks,
classic cars and music that rocks.

The Ed Sullivan show and Elvis Presley’s gyrating hips,
guys racing their cars for pink slips.

No more drive-in theaters or soda shops,
forty-fives or school sock hops.

Penny Loafers or slicked back hair,
gas prices that are fair.

No more Howdy Doody time or black and white TV,
The Milton Berle Show or I Love Lucy.

Full service stations or diner girls on roller skates,
families cruising down route 66 to see the states.

An era when schools were safe and crime was low,
some of the best times one could ever know.

However time and technology has since moved on,
oh what a shame those days are gone.

Details | List | |

My Closet

Today I decided to clean out my closet (Bad Idea)
In it I found:
A wool coat with a moth hole
Old go-go boots, one needs a new sole
An ugly purse made of lizard skin
Inside stained from a leaking pen
A baby book for each of my boys
A big box of outgrown toys
Three dresses that have shrunk, just hanging there
Old gardening jeans with knees worn bare
A bathing suit, too little, I fear
Even some old fishing gear
A purple pantsuit..Holy Chit
Glad nobody ever saw me wearing it
Some baby clothes that belonged to the kids
Potpourri jars that have no lids
So much junk on the floor
I can hardly close the door
I know I should throw it all away
But guess I'll save it for another day
Well, that was fun, I think with a grin
And just like that, I put it all back in 

Details | Light Poetry | |

' Gone Huntin' ... '

Hey Girlfriend, Get Your Hunting Nose
And While You’re at it … Get Your Hunting Clothes
… that’s Right ‘ Hunting ‘
We Going Hunting …

I’m Headed out to The Westridge Mall
Its Friday Night, Time to Have A Ball !
… and Go ‘ Hunting ‘
Yeah, Hunting

Pick Up The Others … Is A Six pack Enough ?
Yeah, You’re Right … We Better Pack The Truck
… and Go ‘ Hunting ‘
Big Game-Hunting !

It’s Hunting Season … This Must Be The Spot
Hot Dang, Sister ! … Look What I Just Shot !
… Out ‘ Hunting ‘
Happy ‘ Hunting ‘

Hurry Up … Don’t Let ‘Em Get Away !
I’m Staying Here, Holding This One At Bay
… Done ‘ Hunting ‘
Great ‘ Hunting ‘

Hey, He’s In Your Sights, Girl … Just Point and Pull
Bring Down That One … He’s So Beautiful !
… Look At Him ‘ Hunting ‘
Uh Huh, He’s Out ‘ Hunting ‘

Hey... You Crazy-Humor-Loving Guys ... Moses and Jimbo)
Hope You Enjoy This One ... It's from MoonBee's Clubbing Days

Details | Rhyme | |

TV and PoetrySoup

I never watch the Oprah show
I don't like Dr. Phil
Jay Leno isn't funny
And Martha makes me ill

I used to watch Magnum, PI
I really liked Bonanza
Now I watch Home Shopping
And their jewerly extravaganza

I sometimes watch old movies
But most come on so late
I fall asleep half way through
So it isn't worth the wait

I don't watch American Idol
Or all that "Reality" poop
I'd rather spend my time writing poems
To post on PoetrySoup!!!!!

Details | Free verse | |


Robot ici 
There is a robot sitting ici on this computer 
He has a name and number but no freedom of religion 
He is soon taken from his places that he goes 
Big frog hopping in a little jargon pond 
Working on his nothing to complete  his daytime job 
Of standing on his pocket leaning overbearing moment of decay and death 
somewhere forgotten to be kept 
How many people am eye how many people must eye be 
Everyone is crazy in this new millineum of time 
Am eye the robot baseball player the batter up and pitcher 
Am eye still the cop the undercover thriller 
Am eye only the dishwasher in my white apron getting so wet and dirty 
Am eye the papermill employee scooping big heaping shovels of decay 
Am eye the dairy man giving all the milk away in bottles full of cow 
This robot was once human once full of life 

Details | Burlesque | |

A Poem For My Home

Dear old house,
that is no more,
I dream of you each night,
as I snore...

I miss your old 
wooden charm
Not like this plastic
tube that does me harm

It erodes my flagging spirit
and sometimes, I
think I hear it...
That comforting creak
of the old wooden stairs
of my old home that
my heart does so seek

If it's partical board
laced with formaldehyde,
and cheap plastic tubs,
that no human could fit in,
if this is something
that sounds good to you
you can buy my new trailer
and I'll go live with that
 old lady in the shoe

Details | Free verse | |

Penguin Poet

 Penguin Poet 
Penguin Poet 
The Batman was standing to the side of the bumbershooter looking askance at 
the penguins' aide so intent was the man in the plastic wrapper that he failed to 
see Robin coming up behind them and lost his nanner in a Robin manner he 
was soon tied up like a handcuff furrowing into the background noises of the 
Penguin lair the hair of the penguin was slick jetted black ebon nighttime fright 
and he launched a bird kick almost getting Batman in the jaw Robin came 
unglued and he is rally very strong he launched another bird kick in the belly of 
the thug. 
 WHAM Whack Thwack POW SOCK WHAM the fight was soon over and the 
Penguin land in jail. 

Details | Free verse | |

Young & Stupid

back when I was
young and stupid
I really wanted to be
a big famous rock star
just like Jim Morrison
or Jimi Hendricks

I would give anything
just for the chance to have
long hair and wear tight jeans
play Madison Square Gardens
and have hordes of pretty girls
throwing underwear at me

but now that I’m old and pathetic
I just can’t see myself with long hair
dressed in jeans and a leather jacket
holding onto an electric guitar and
threatening to throw a TV set
out of a hotel window

somehow the years
have caught up with me
and the sound of rock music
no longer drives me to madness
I’m terrified to even look at myself
for fear of seeing my parents

but as long as I’m alive
then there’s still a chance
to act crazy and get naked
just because I’m growing old
doesn’t mean I have to stop
being young and stupid 

*Penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Light Poetry | |


I am Jones.
And I write poems.
I work in my garden.
And sail my boat.

On the waters of the moat.
Windmills all around.
And canals too.
Ideal place for me and you.

Yes I'm getting on, and old.
Don't do what I am told.
I play cards and chess.
Can you guess? I cheat to win.
It's not a sin.
If done with a grin.

I am the friend of every one.
I have lived here so long.
When I go. I hope they say.
Goodbye to the English man.

Details | I do not know? | |

About Clouds

                      If you look into the sky
                      You may see castles drifting by
                      And dragons chased by knights of old
                      On quests of chivalry brave and bold

                      You may see ships with billowing sails
                      Chasing after fluffy whales
                      Or fleeing from some mighty storm
                      Seeking shelter from it’s harm

                      You could see a wizard, old and wise
                      Fire burning in his mystic eyes
                      Casting forth a magic spell  
                      To conjure a spirit from the well

                      There’s a fire truck chugging along 
                      Filled with firemen, brave and strong
                      Racing by to save the day
                      Wave them on their hero’s way

                      These are the things I see in the sky
                      You can to if you really try
                      Just lie on the slope of a grassy hill
                      And let your mind make them real


Details | Lyric | |

Bittersweet City of Pain

The darkened city
fades in the background
just like you wished your feelings would
It’s been a long year
longer than you’d like to live
It’s hard to forget
how things were
just a few months ago
And it’s hard to remember
how things were before
It’s funny how
how quickly people change
It’s funny how
how quickly she could change
And it’s funny how
how things never stay the same
And it’s funny how
She promised Heaven
but gave as much Hell as she could
Finally woke up
to see the stinging truth
To see the lies
in her empty smiles
Finally woke up
to hear the burning truth
To hear the emptiness
in her “I love you”s
Finally woke up 
to feel the death she dealt
To feel the coldness in her heart
The new year is coming
but will this one finally become the past?
A would-be anniversary
spent in nostalgia and depression
Amnesia is a blessing
you would gladly accept
to escape this fate
You’d trade a fortune
to erase the misfortune
she gave to you
You’d trade a fortune
to erase the time
she spent with you
You’d trade a fortune
to have her fall in love with you
like you thought she did before
But she’s long gone
and fading behind you
She’s in the city
but she’s still on your mind
If you could just leave your thoughts
in her apartment
you surely would
For now it’s so long bittersweet city of pain
Maybe you’ll be back 
when all your thoughts of her
have been washed away with the rain

Details | I do not know? | |

Donkey Kong Junior

(This poem is based on the arcade game that was made in 1982.)

Mario captured and locked up a big brown ape.
It was up to the gorilla's son to help him escape.
He had to climb and avoid enemies in order to set Donkey Kong free.
But Mario would move Kong when Junior grabbed the key.
Junior soon learned that Mario's bite was worse than his bark.
He tried to kill Junior with Snapjaws, birds and even with electric sparks.
Mario tried to eliminate him with those enemies but Junior wouldn't stop.
He finally unlocked his dad's cage by pushing six keys to the top.
Mario ran after them when Junior freed his papa but Donkey kong gave him a 
good kick.
Mario then ran in the opposite direction and I mean that he ran quick.
He didn't like getting his butt kicked by Donkey Kong and his son.
That was the only time that Mario chose to be the villain.

Details | Quatrain | |

Do I Mis Her? Nah!

It has been 3 years to the day since she left
It was just like when she entered my life, hurried
Like a whirlwind she was, a petite dynamo
Always doing something, leaving nothing buried

She had her hands in everything she wanted
Never gave a thought to how it could affect most
She was in her own world; I let it go too long
She was always the center, always being the host

I look back, thankful she’s gone, still I miss
We had many wonderful times that were shared
I hope she changes her ways, less selfish
For anyone she is with now, I just hope she cares

I have no regrets over any time spent with her
She was able to fill some of my nights with dreams
Her character or lack thereof, was the problem
I hope her new beau can put up with some screams

Details | Free verse | |

Mystic Knights of the Sea

does anyone remember
the significance of
these words?

I'll give you just a hint...
look to the early fifties
when the king of all the fish
had conniving his favorite dish

Details | Rhyme | |

When I Was Young

When I was young and pretty
The men would pay me court
But now I'm old and wrinkled
They don't want my sort

When I was young and blonde
My figure was very neat
But now I'm so overweight
I can hardly see my feet

When I was young and gabby
I could dance the night away
But now I'm old and flabby
And lucky to walk each day

Oh, woe is me!!

Details | Bio | |

Hunters' nite out

The band was on  a beer break
When old Doug got up onto the stage
In a hotel down on Main street
He was playing that old song 
On a battered old  mouth harp that spit
Then he started into singing  off key as ever
Then the rest of us wanted to split
He was holding his own
Though  the crowd was beginning  to  rend
They all knew they’d better be good
And not get us mad cos  altho he was bad
That old man also our friend
Then he started again
On an encore of  sorts
So four of us each took a limb
And as we took him outside
The crowd cheering and clapping us on 
He was certain that night they loved him 

Details | Cowboy | |

Life's Ol' Rodeo

You know you been too long at life’s ol’ rodeo,
When them jeans get too tight and that ol’ paunch does grow—
And then your teeth fall out instead of bein’ knocked
And you pay entry fees with prize buckles you hocked.

That’s when they call you Curly ‘cause you ain’t got hair,
Except in your ears and nose where they’s lot to spare!
Then sittin’ on wood fences is what you avoids,
‘Cause like as not they’ll flare up your ol’ hemoroids!

Buckin’ bulls and broncs is something way in your past,
Rockin’ chairs and Lazy Boys now make your life last.
So now instead of hard tack, you’d rather just pass—
Eatin’ hot, spicy grub just seems to give you gas.

You done been far too long at life’s ol’ rodeo, 
You’d rather watch TV than help a horse to foal—
You ain’t cowboy if you quit chewin’ your toback—
Might as well hock your saddle and all your dern tack.

So if you sit on porches waitin’ for your God—
Better get off your duff before you get the nod!
‘Cause that boss in the sky don’t want no so-and-so,
What ain’t least down there watchin’ life’s ol’ rodeo!