-honestly...I have no clue why...-
As I began to rest in my fickle dream
Suddenly I was stirred from my sleep
I was greeted by many a whisker
And petulant snores from my sister
The cat mewed ferociously and purred
For there on the other side of the window—was a bird!
It chirped like a wobbly siren—the ass!
And I swear by my bosom it was pecking the glass
Suddenly, I sprang up in alarm
I swear my bosom was gone!
The cat then motioned at the feathered brat
For her bright breasts seemed extra fat
Of course it wouldn’t have been that
But I couldn’t just blame the cat!
I opened the window only a crack
And asked very kindly, “May I have my breasts back?”
Such pride she attained from my bosom
Yet why? –how would she use ‘em!?
The mockingbird merely turned a goodbye
But the stolen twins were too heavy to fly!
She plopped to the ground and squawked
I would have laughed, but I was shocked!
The cat scratched at the window and with her eyes
Said, “Prithee, take your breasts—she’s mine!”
Before I could think I had fallen to the ground
To a booming, most terrible sound!
My eyes then opened to a cat on my head
As the booming sound continued from my sister’s bed
To 'ride on somebody's coat tails'
Is the most dangerous thing you can do
'Keep a stiff upper lip' is another cliché
Mine's not stiff, how about you?
'One good turn deserves another'
Turns my stomach if you must ask
'There's no fool like an old fool'
I'm quite offended by the last
'Sticks and stones will break my bones'
Can break someone's heart as well
So if somebody up and says this to you
Tell them to go straight to hell
'A penny for your thoughts' is yet another
That's pretty damn cheap I'd say
A dollar would certainly be more in line
With the times we live in today
'A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush'
Who made up this silly old verse
A bird in the hand is quite messy I'd say
Poop on your fingers or worse
So I've come to the obvious conclusion
Concerning the debunking of clichés
Refuse to use 'em coz people abuse 'em
You'll wind up much happier I say
© Jack Ellison 2013
Coo-Coo Ca-Ca Chu!
That means a bird’s crapped on you!
That’s not nice at all!
His chicken vanished from the face of Earth
unhappy and distressed connected so
with sites of poetry where lost pets' dearth
transformed to versicle expression's flow.
Logorrhea of namby pamby lines
and balderdash of verbose gardyloo
bombarded him with rounds of porcupines
stampeded unctuous like rabid gnoo.
But on the other hand he met some birds
composers of refined and sightly verse,
with glinting souls and clever words,
their intellect's expressions wise and terse.
And when he searched of whom to value most
received his chicken's metrical riposte.
© G.V. 09-14-2013 All rights reserved
Rest in peace Booger Red;
the dang old rooster’s dead.
He wasn’t near big enough to eat;
and he sort of wobbled on his little feet.
He squeaked whenever he tried to crow;
and his wee short legs were kind of bowed.
But my baby girls loved him anyway;
now he’s lying out back in a shallow grave.
Some doggone fool ran over him with his car;
I guess he got drunk down the road at Bubba Ray’s Bar.
What else could I as a father do;
I couldn’t add him to the stew.
I hammered a tiny wooden cross into the ground;
and said a brief prayer as the girls gathered around.
Rest in peace Booger Red;
the dang old rooster’s dead.
Says the ostrich to the emu with sigh,
"We have a pair of wings yet cannot fly!
I guess its just our bad luck
That we can't cruise like a duck.
Why have these things? I'll ever ponder why!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
When I’m in my garden
I’m a King, I have a throne
I sit here very solitary
I am happy on my own
All my subjects gather round
The birds, the flowers, the trees
And all those noisy Sand gropers
The frogs, and all the bees.
Canaries have a special place
They play music for my court
Often wild birds join along
As I sit wrapped in thought.
My courtyards are not tidy
All the bushes cling together
But hey, they give me so much shade
In our hot sticky weather.
So I sit and write my memoirs down
Like a good King really should
As I sit here in my kingdom
And I really feel so good.
28 August 2013 @ 1419hrs.
There once was a gal named Lucy,
Who had a beloved pet goosey.
The goose learned to fly,
Which made Lucy cry,
Now there's no more Lucy's goosey.
For Blackeyed Susan's limerick contest
Once in a land full of life
At least that's what I was told so
There lived a happy man and his wife
Who smiled and watched the birds go
One day as they were watching the birds
The old man had flipped his hat
For he had said only a few words
And it was that he could fly like that
The wife then began to frown
For the man had simply gone mad
So she got ready to leave the town
Which made the cheery guy sad
He swore to her that he would fly
So the wife had grabbed her things
She opened the door and said bye
And when she left, the man sprouted wings
A few years had come and gone
The wife grew old and watched time pass
One day when sitting, she heard a song
That sounded from her fifth floor window glass
'my love,' it said, 'I now have wings.
my love,' it went on, 'I wish you would see me fly.
my dear, come look at me, drop your things.
I wait by your window, perched in the sky.'
The wife got up and looked out the pane
She froze at the sight she had saw
Her husband flying, or was she insane?
He smiled at her dropped jaw.
'My love, come with me. Fly in the sky.'
'I can't,' she shook her head
'oh come on. climb out. I promise you won't die.'
So she climbed out, and was never seen again.
(this is fictional)
Percy the peacock flaunts his colored tail,
Spreading gold wings like a Japanese fan
To excite a mate, a future peahen
Along the hall where children watch him sail.
Once, thrice, Percy struts a handsome display
With eyes blue, he looks around for a pick.
And ladies murmur of avian topic;
While they form a circle nearing his way.
The prettiest one robed in aqua-green
Shows interest while Percy loudly drools,
That flappers open acting super cool!
Brilliant her poise, tall as he, and serene.
Ready to capture his one, perfect bride
Wham! Percy flops on the hall’s wet cement.
An honest proposal almost denied,
But maiden takes the chance, how heaven sent!
Animals Alive Contest of Carol Eastman