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Funny Home Poems | Funny Poems About Home

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

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Details | Free verse | |

A homeless bride-w

I shall daily visit the beauty parlor
And make myself beautiful for you.
I shall never clean the house
So that my skin is not tarred.
I shall ever watch my figure,
Eating calorie less foods and drinks.

I shall stay home all day
And will never be stay at home mom
But will go for Disco at night.
I shall not take drugs
But a drink or two in limits.
I shall awake late in the morning
So that you are not disturbed.

I shall adorn the house to earn
Adjectives from the neighbours.
I shall buy the furniture to invent
Nouns to be told to the visitors.
Our house will be all pronouns
But will never admit verbs as
They shake the very foundation.

*** I wrote this poem much earlier noticing a young married woman of a modest family adopting the modern living going astray from the household chores *** Based on a real
person.

The poem was posted on 1/16/2007

========================
Dr. Ram Mehta

Tenth place win in:
Contest: Any Twisted Poem sponsored by Destroyer A Poet


Details | Light Poetry | |

Singing in the Shower

I know of a lass by the name of Kelly McGower 
Who would sing like an angel when she took a shower. 
But when she finished and came out of the rain, 
It seems that her talents would wash down the drain. 
And if she attempted to sing one more note, 
Her voice would sound like a rude Billy Goat. 
Poor Kelly, to her singing was close to pure joy, 
But she’d never share it with Shamus McCoy. 
Shamus it seems was the man of her dreams, 
But to sing for him would be far too extreme. 
To invite him to hear her would set off alarms, 
And how could she do it without revealing her charms? 
So the poor girl wondered what else she could do, 
To gain his attention and to be loved by him too? 
  
Next door to Kelly there lived one Shamus McCoy, 
Nothing special about him, just an average boy. 
He’d stroll through his garden each night at the same hour, 
And wait for dear Kelly to start taking her shower. 
When her singing would start on the fence post he’d lean, 
Until sweet Kelly and his soul were both clean. 
For the sound of her voice would make him content, 
But for listening to her shower he felt the need to repent. 
So he got on the phone to speak with the Vicar, 
In hopes that absolution could come that much quicker. 
The Vicar grabbed his Bible to help save the boy, 
Then he went to visit the home of young Shamus McCoy. 
And while Shamus made confession to his lyrical love, 
The Vicar heard the sweet sounds from the window above. 
So transfixed was he by the sound of her voice, 
That he called out to Shamus to be glad and rejoice. 
He provoked Shamus into action to ask for her hand, 
So young Shamus made a purchase of a perfect gold band. 
  
Now Shamus is granted a concert each night, 
And the songs that she sings bring him delight. 
His love for his wife has made him complete, 
And she now permits him a front row seat. 
Still her modesty requires that he turn his face, 
Because the shower curtain is made of fine Irish lace. 
And there is not enough of it there to obstruct his view, 
So to honor her wishes it's the least he can do. 
He’ll protect her modesty when he comes to hear her, 
By turning from the shower and looking into the mirror. 
But the steam from the shower clouded up the glass, 
And obscured his view of this beautiful lass. 
So Shamus took action there was nothing more to it, 
And that’s how Kelly’s solo got changed into a duet. 
Let this poem stand as an explanation to the city as to why, 
The water bill at the home of the McCoy’s is so high.


Details | Rhyme | |

At the End of the Day

There's nothing like it after a hard day's work
To ge stuck in traffic behind some jerk
He smiles in his mirror like he's having fun
So I show him my finger because he's number one

Now rush hour moves at such a horrible pace
By the time I get home there's a beard on my face
If this isn't enough to make you hot
I arrive at home and can't find a parking spot

So I park up the street and pick up a nail
If swearing was a crime, I'd be in jail
Then I walk down the street which was freshly tarred
Our neighbor's dog did his duty in our back yard

I finish my dinner and sit down for the night
To watch TV and listen to the kids fight
I look at the ceiling and softly say
A prayer of thanksgiving at the end of the day.


Details | Couplet | |

something beautiful and strange

   'neath my family tree I found
something green and blue and brown
hatching out beneath my touch
that I love so very much
can you take it home tonight?
feed it soup and hold it tight?
I can't have it ,Heaven knows,
it wants to wear my sister's clothes
and dance around in town all day
and make confections out of clay
put it in a sachel bag
make it march and wave a flag
until it learns it must conform
it's just too different from the norm
and when you make it tow the line,
I'll take it home and make it mine.


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 | Haiku | |

Haiku - X 17 - A home -


                                   
   

                              
                                
                                             Drenched by the rain
                               Golden key fits perfectly in the door lock
                                       Home with lots of wet dog kisses











24.05.2013
A-L  Andresen :)                      
                                              * contest: Leonora <3


(4th place in the contest)


Details | Free verse | |

My Boredom Disease

Like sick allergies, 
Boredom can be passed around
I call it: THE BOREDOM DISEASE

Like a horrid storm,
Boredom can catch you off guard
Hold on for DEAR LIFE!

Like the whooping cough,
Boredom can be serious
If I were you, I’d
Get a vaccination ! 


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Elephant Tha Ant and The Butterfly

The elephant was walking through the jungle one day
Swinging his trunk, this and that way.
He dragged it along not caring where still
And then he dragged it through, a very large Ant hill.

His trunk started to itch and annoy him a bit
He wandered around to look for somewhere to scratch it.
He found a tree and wrapped his trunk around 
The leaves and the fruits all dropped down to the ground
 
The itch it then moved, it was now up at his nose
He needed to rub it on anything that goes.
He found a rock and rubbed with all his might
It was covered in insects and they all took flight.

Apart from a butterfly that dropped on his tusk
She lay there broken smelling faintly of musk
The itch it had moved up onto his head right close to his eyes
Then he heard a voice which was quite a surprise.

Hey you be more careful you great big beast
You’ve ruined my home and knocked off the giraffes feast.
You’ve forced insects to flee from the rock where they lay
And you have a broken butterfly on you tusk, now what do you say?

The elephant stopped in his tracks and looked around
He couldn’t see, from where came the sound.
Elephant shook his head as the itch went to his ear
Then the voice said it’s me stupid, I am in your ear.

The elephant stopped and begged, please keep still
You are making me itch and it’s making me ill
Please show yourself and let me apologise
I meant no harm especially to you or the butterflies.

The ant crawled out of the elephant’s ear
He said, I need you to go back to my anthill I fear
I need to check up and the wounded and dead
If you do this for me I’ll stop itching on your head.

Ok said the elephant I’ll do that for you 
But what about this butterfly, what can we do?
I’m not sure said the ant, to the elephants ear
We’ll sort it in a bit when we get near.

They set of and found the squashed ants and hill
The elephant cried it made him feel ill.
The ant said we need new home and quick
And for the butterfly she is quite sick.

The elephant was sad and offered what help he could .
You can move in my trunk and I promise I’ll be good
Thank you we will said the ant, just for a while
And we can help the butterfly said the ant with a smile.
So together they set of all content and happy
The elephant the  butterfly and the little Anty.



Details | Alliteration | |

Lucky at Home

You’d think a dog named Lucky,
Would lead a decent life.
But Lucky had his troubles,
And they followed day and night.

One day Lucky ran away
In search of greener pastures.
Just to find a field ablaze,
Thus the start of his disasters.

Although Lucky didn’t die that day
And no limbs or parts were broken,
Lucky smelled of smoldered hair
And you’d swear he kept on smokin!

And Lucky like to chase the cars,
Till the day he lost his nerve
When Lucky met a big ‘ol bus
That couldn’t stop or swerve.

I’m not sure just how it hit him
Or how he’s here today.
But he’s never walked straight since,
And one eye veers away.

Lucky always clashed with cats
And was leery of their paws.
Until a “Tom” of forty pounds
Let Lucky feel his jaws.

Hair and fur balls filled the air
Like Cottonwoods a bloomin.
Poor ‘ol Lucky lost an ear,
And now looks twice as stupid.

I confess, I named him wrong
And why he stays, I’ll never know.
I guess that I’m the lucky one,
To have Lucky here at home.


Details | ABC | |

The Vent

im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition 
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
Situations
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
Simply put 
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time 
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time 
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
Fall
And I as I pull myself together 
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now

there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Bowing Tree

We were so pathetic our first year of marriage. They say that being poor builds character, maybe that explains it. 
 

We were married way too young to ever have much money, The thought of spending for a Christmas tree seemed to be too funny. We decided that we would do without to save cash on which to live, Because the cost of even a meager tree was more than we could give. One night on my way home from work I followed a tree barring truck, A pothole hit and a tree flew off it seemed I’d had some luck. I took it home to my new bride and the sight lit up her eyes, She decided to make decorations for this Christmas tree surprise. So while I went to find a stand, she started to pop some corn, She took a needle and threaded them and soon the tree adorned. She cut out cardboard stars and bells in foil they then got covered, I set the tree up in its stand and that’s when a problem was discovered. There was something wrong with the trunk of our little Christmas tree, It curved so badly that when it stood up it made the letter “C”. Without some help it couldn’t stand so to the top we tied a rope. To the closet rod it got fastened to hold it upright was our hope. When the door to the closet slid shut tight the tree stood proud and tall, With its aluminum decorations and popcorn strands it really had it all. When we opened the door to get our coats the rope would always slack, And the little tree would bow to us and we would bow right back. Many years have passed since then and now our house is full of trees, But none of them are as polite as our first that was so eager to please.


Details | Monoku | |

Alien-nation

One more alien... an extra terrestrial. Bloody foreigners.


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 
back.
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. 
Eternal.
There was a sound, like a shell to the ear, of all you had learned, escaping as if under 
pressure.
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 
later!
........................
.........
.....
...
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 | Rhyme | |

Seemed Like A Routine Day

Being a nurse I had a good understanding of medications for pain, Explained to my Obstetrician I wanted everything, I was not insane, This was my first baby and being in healthcare had very few perks, I’d be given an epidural when the time came, but not by any jerks. Worked full-time then started maternity leave 2 weeks before my due date, Of course I sat at home for another 5 weeks, oh my first baby was really late. I read every book in the library and cleaned my house more than one time, Everyday the neighbours would drop by, I was tired of the door bell chime. Walked into the hospital to have a non-stress test, done every other day, My doctor laid his hand on me and asked “how long have you been this way” I replied “ for about 11 months, you should know you’ve seen me every week” He firmly instructed the nurse to call my home, for my husband they must seek. My husband knowing my test was routine, had driven to town to go to the Gym, What is that you say dear doctor, “I’m fully dilated, I’m soon going to be slim” Well first I’ll I just zip home to grab my luggage and I promise I just zoooom, What’s that- “I’m bypassing the labour and going straight to the delivery room” So I hopped onto the table, took deep breaths and put my feet in the snare When finally my dear husband arrived ~ with more than five minutes to spare “It’s a beautiful girl with dark hair, 8 lbs 7 oz ” I heard the delivery room nurse say, My love has never been stronger, my greatest moment, our most memorable day. Written by Lee Ramage October 6, 2011 For Frank Herrera’s contest “One Stand Out Day” Won 4th place


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Indonesian Drum

My wife found an Indonesian drum that she couldn’t live without,
It was a ceremonial one used to play for all who remain devout.

It had brightly colored beads and paint to decorate its side,
And it grabbed her by the imagination and would not be denied.

“Are you sure that we can do this, are you sure that it won’t unravel?
This thing isn’t exactly portable and it isn’t built for extensive travel.”

“We’ll make it work,” is all she said and then she handed it to me,
It was clear that from that moment on it was my responsibility.

This drum and I traveled together throughout the great Northwest,
And the both of us stayed together wherever I became a guest.

I carried it through the airport one day and then back again the next,
This is exactly why air travel always leaves me feeling so perplexed.

I transported it through the concourse then down to baggage claim,
Making sure to keep the crowds at bay, drum safety was my aim.

Carefully I loaded the Indonesian drum into the backseat of my truck,
Only one more hour on the road and then we’d be home with any luck.

When we pulled into our drive it was the first thing that I took inside,
Bringing it from Washington State and then delivering it with pride.

I set it on the kitchen counter then I went out for the rest of our bags,
Our Bloodhound was so happy to see us both and to sniff at all the tags.

The time change had effected us so we thought that before we took a seat,
We had better go out and find ourselves something good to eat.

So we patted the dog on his head and said that we’d be right back,
But as soon as we’d left again he decided it was time for a little snack.

We thought that Chinese sounded good so we went and got us some,
But Sherlock was left at home alone with a taste for Indonesian drum.

When we got back home the drum lay there with one side chewed away,
And the expression on Sherlock’s face said that he was ready to play.

So now we have an Indonesian drum with one side turned out of sight,
It has the teeth marks turned to the wall so you can’t see the Sherlock bite.

If you should ask my wife about her drum I can grantee a fluster,
I can also tell you that for at least one day Sherlock lost his luster.

But what is the meaning of a souvenir, is it only for decoration?
Or is meant for something else? Is it more of a declaration?

Because if it is meant to bring out conversation and try to evoke a story,
Then this is exactly what our drum does now that it’s in our inventory.


Details | Haiku | |

A good winter's cleaning

What are Cabinites                                                                                                          all things you find when cleaning                                                                                      cabinet dwellers


Details | Rhyme | |

Instead

On television movie "Dirty Dancing" again
To tell honest truth I felt warm after glow
This looked like a fun thing to do from where I stood
I thought and on my "Bucket List" it will go

But when I moved from my sitting stance_no_no way
Even though this "Dirty Dancing" fanned my flame
At my age just don't have youthful energy left
I will just have to pen a "Bucket List" by name

A very long list of fun things before life's end
Seek map and then go down a never travelled road
Go on a surrey ride to hear the horses' hoofs
Would that my love and I for horse not be heavy

In a hot air balloon basket flow on warm air
Only so many years_go to states not been in
No longer sit at home breath very deeply sigh
I'll be able to tell generations where been

No longer sit home and watch each and every leaf
My life wil move now as if it was set on fire
Skateboarding looks like so much fun_might fall and break arm
Join circus learn to perform by walking high wire

When I look at my "Bucket List" I get so sad
Like New Year Resolutions that I never kept
Need a new list of very achievable things
When I seriously thought about this I just wept..


Details | Narrative | |

Granny And Your last glass of water

He starts singing songs of Ireland and we are home in a jiffy
"What's a jiffy," my mother wonders
"Guess  where we went Granny?"
"I don't know but I have a feeling you are gonna tell me," answers my grandmother
"And Don't call me Granny!"
"We went to church so Poppy could ask secret questions."
"The priest gave Poppy a shot and a beer and Poppy sent me next store and he gave me money for  taffy."
"He told me not to tell anyone especially you about the priest cause it's only for the priests ears."
"He said God would take away taffy and I'd never get another goodie and God would strike me dead if I told."
"So I can't tell anyone."
"He did," and she starts yelling and grabs a weapon,"what kind of idiot would be scaring a little child?"
Granny is standing on  Poppy's toes and and asking him questions of where he'd been and getting a sniff of his breath
"So what did you tell  the priest and him giving you consolation and a shot and beer."
"That little rat ," and thinks about the money for candy
Later, Granny is chasing Poppy with that big iron frying pan and poppy running and singing
"In Heaven they have no beer, that's why we drink it here."
"You damn fool I'm gonna bust you in the head, "and throws the pan at his head
And later
Cousin Francis has bill collectors come to the house looking for him
Granny was four foot seven  inches and she starts kicking him in the shin
My Mother grabs his Dick Tracy hat and she jumps on it and flattens it
I ask my mom where I was when this happened and she pauses
" You were in Heaven Patrick waiting with your brother!"
The truancy officers bang on the door and want to know where Uncle Charles is
Granny shrugs and says, "He is upstairs and the sound of the window going up sounds
They all run upstairs and see Uncle sliding down the tree and running as fast as his
seven year legs can move
He comes home later that evening holding a goose under his arm
And Poppy has a soft-boiled goose egg for breakfast every morning
I ask Uncle what happened to that goose and He said,"one day he came home  and
they had chicken for dinner."
And Poppy was gone to heaven to get me and my brother ready Mom says
And Granny sits my brother and me on her lap and says,"you two knuckleheads listen up."
"This is very important so don't forget it."
"Treat people the way you want to be treated, because you never know who is going to hand you your last glass of water"


Details | Rhyme | |

True Confessions

Confessions aren't easy but here I go
I'm about to tell you what you don't know
I secretly dance at home all alone
I like karaoke with a microphone

Singing and dancing I ain't got no skills
Still it's way better than swallowing pills
As I perform I still have one great fear
If I sing to loudly others will hear

Sometimes I practice at home in the shower
Enjoying myself for many an hour
Maybe one day I will be good enough
Then I won't be afraid to strut my stuff

Until that distant day please leave me alone
I will keep up practice to improve my tone
John Travolta moves, singing like the King
Imagine all the joy one day I will bring

Please keep my secret, you made me confess
Others could be worse, perhaps they cross dress
Confessions not easy secrets come out
Now you will learn what Soupers are about.

Sweet Anne's Confessions of a Poetry Souper's contest.


Details | Nonet | |

Little Hell Raisers { Nonet}

<                             I'm going on journey ~ back in time
                               When I should of listened to my .... heart
                               But instead just followed ....  head 
                               What a mistake that .... was
                               Let me tell you .... now
                               Poor old ... lady
                               Didn't ... do
                               Noth ~ ing
                               Wrong !



                              Carrying her groceries home from the ... store
                              Me ~ brother ~ sister ~ brother's ... friend
                              Tossing lit~ firecrackers
                              Laughing ... and .... giggling 
                              Looking ~ for ... trouble
                              And here she ... came
                              Four ..... against
                              Just ... one
                              Wow   !



                              Bet poor old women didn't .... expect
                              Handfull of lit .... firecrackers
                              To be tossed in her own .... bags
                              Others ran like .... dickens
                              I stayed and helped   ...  her
                              Picked up her ... stuff
                              And ... carried
                              Them ... all
                              Home !
                           
                           
                           
                           
Entry For
Linda Marie's
A Journey Back In Time
G.L. All


Details | Limerick | |

Two-Fifty-Four

Two-Fifty-Four
©2012 C. Brent Cloyd

I bought a new scale at the Wal-Mart store.
Made it secure and level on the floor.
I took a breath, then stepped on.
The digits I saw made me moan.
Surely, I do not weigh two-fifty-four!

Let’s balance the scale, then I’ll try once more.
Adjusted proper, they’ll give the right score.
This time the scales will behave.
I stepped on, tried to be brave.
But with a grin they said “two-fifty-four”.

I would like to throw these scales out the door.
Wish they were lying, but I can’t ignore. 
I’ve gobbled many things sweet
And chewed on too much red meat.
My expanding poundage is “two-fifty-four”.

My belly is huge, my chin is galore.
Need to lose it, but process is a chore.
Need diet low in fat and starch.
So my stomach will not arch.
Hope to be smaller than “two-fifty-four”.

Would a brisk walk cause my health to restore?
Would losing blubber help me not to snore?
Let’s get started. Soon I say!
Well - after the holiday!
Cause my clothes don’t fit at “two-fifty-four”.














Details | Senryu | |

My Cat is Not Stupid

whiskers twitch
there's a dog in the litter
hello floor

4-7-13

Not sure if it's a senryu or a haiku? Help, please :)


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Birth of Tradition

The Pilgrims were so happy to finally set foot on Plymouth Rock,
They decided that the time had come for each to take some stock.

They built themselves a Pilgrim town of houses and very little more,
Then they sent the women out to get groceries at the Pilgrim store.

Pilgrims lived in a time when it was thought that only women ever shop,
They weren’t very enlightened and men would never make that stop.

While the girls were at the store the men invited the Indians over for lunch,
So as soon as the women got home they had to go get more to munch.

The men started to toss an old pumpkin around that was long and kinda tall,
Then they played shirts against the skins in a game they named football.

While the women worked to prepare a feast, the men all went for a walk,
With buckled hats and feathered plumes their parade was all the talk.

The women wanted revenge so they picked cranberries to make an awful sauce,
Then they made the men eat it the stuff just to show them who was boss.

Then there came a heated discussion whether to use sweet potatoes or yams,
Then a second argument broke out about the use of turkey meat or hams.

It all seemed to calm back down when the Indian cornbread was finally tried,
And the Indians really liked the green beans topped with onions that were fried.

And when the day was done and the guests took home the left over feast,
The men cleaned up the dishes, since it’s what women liked to do the least.

This is how they all came together and invented the first Thanksgiving,
It gave them strength to continue on with the hard life they were living.

The Native Americans went back to their home and were grateful for so much,
“But next year,” they said, “let’s tell the English it’s our year to visit with the Dutch.”


Details | Light Poetry | |

Granny Tipping

My son is getting older, and he just went back to College, the other day.
But he had enjoyed the summer, by adding a new game to his daily play.
He called it Troll Tipping as daily he targeted another, and wore him out.
By dinner, the Troll would fall asleep, as my son claimed his dessert, so devout.

But wearing out a Troll, is not such an easy thing, so many a night, a Troll got his.
What a shame! But as a resourceful college man, at devising plans he was a whiz.
He offered them a Fun Filled Tip, yes, a way to get others, to do their daily chores.
The cost to each individual Troll, was their sweet dessert, that night, nothing more.

He was doing great, as he ran thru many a Troll, but then our suspicions did unfold.
You see, this bred unrest, as a number of fights started, amongst our beloved Trolls.
Scheming isn’t sharing, so Grandpa Troll had a TALK, life changing, or so it’s told.
But Boys are boys, and desserts were to be had, so he made a new plan, quite bold.

You might say he invented Granny Tipping, yes, now it was MY dessert, on the line.
Now this would be quite simple, for at my age, I can easily, become tiredly inclined.
But the one thing he’d forgot: is how crafty age had made this old one, in her efforts. 
As dinner wound down, I cued Grandpa Troll, to help deliver, those delicious desserts.

I told my son, that they were made to be his favorite, simply in honor, of his behalf.
Then I pretended to fall asleep, and he quickly took my dessert, with a joyous laugh.
Then suddenly his eyes grew big! And I awoke, looking him quite clearly, in the eye.
I lied that, I added laxatives and terrible cod liver oil, to my dessert nightly, yes, so sly. 

Making them easier to swallow, but if he wanted more dessert, he only had to ASK.
He quickly sped away, to wash that terrible taste, out of his mouth, a daunting task!
And we all had our chance to laugh at him… as the joke was finally on him, at last.
I call this, Bad Behavior Tipping, and from that day to this, he asks for more, at last!

The game seemed to lose its luster that day, yes, manners did a BIG, comeback.
The moral is to politely ask… Playing clever little games… is NEVER for the best!


Details | Light Poetry | |

Looking at Me

Ma! He’s Looking At Me! Make him stop! MA! He’s LOOKING at ME!
And so goes life in the early morn. Two ragamuffins, in battle, and angry.
He touched me! He touched me first! He’s looking at me! Here we go, again.
Two children acting badly, as I stare them into submission, momentarily, amen.

While cleaning up after breakfast… they’re now running through the house.
Heaven should ever forbid, that they’d once, just once, be quiet as a mouse.
The second they come around me, I step out clearly between them, in their way.
Children can be exhausting in the antics, they find readily, that they can display.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love them, as one just skidded into the dog, in his way.
At this it’s a time out, and when finished different toys, in different rooms, horray!
But life is never that easy, as one tries to sneak past me, while he’s on the attack.
It’s just a simple bundle of energy, driving them, that, they never do seem to lack.

But every day there’s always an answer, to every prayer, that I have ever sent.
My sons had wound up the cats, and now are playing with them, till they’re spent.
Yes, you’re right it wasn’t my sons, and yes, it truly was their playful little cats.
Surely you didn’t think my sweet, darling, little children, would ever act like that?

In fact, once upon a time, you know, that of course, they actually did.
But they are past the terrible two’s now, and definitely more refined kids.
But as they head out, to catch the bus, one barrels past the other to the door.
Then he runs back skidding into the chair, as I hold the lunch out, he ignored.

Then the other, gives a push so fine, to tell him to hurry or they’ll be late.
But laughter rings out, as the girl next door, joins them, sweetly at the gate.


CSEastman 2-11-2013 Contest: Maybe I'm Amazed


Details | Rhyme | |

Halloween 2011

'Tis Halloween again, the economy is bad and lots of folks are outta work!
I'm gonna reverse this trick or treat racket, tho' some may think me quite a jerk!
Normally, hordes of kids come bangin' on my door pleadin', "Fill my tote!"
But this year I'm gonna dress like a bum and from behind my mask I'll gloat!

I'll tote a huge burlap bag and park my Cadillac so as to be discreet,
And march down every street in this fair city pleadin' fer things to eat!
I hope they'll pity this poor old tramp when I make my earnest plea,
And that they'll be more than generous and not call the law on me!

My spiel will go somethin' like this: "Won't you help a destitute family,
That is goin' through hard times facin' problems we could not foresee?
All I'm askin' of you is a few taters, maybe a can of corn or peas.
Anything would be appreciated and may God bless you if He please!"

After I make the rounds and arrive home to sort through my ill-gotten loot,
Of soups, ramen noodles, crackers, lima beans and assorted fruit,
I'll put it all back in the burlap bag and deliver it to a needy charity,
Than I'll scurry home to hand out treats to the little imps who call on me!

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

Tied for No. l in Russell Sivey's "Halloween Fun" Contest - October 2011


Details | Kyrielle | |

Santa Mommy

My nose is getting red like Santa’s perhaps I’ll grow a beard
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’ve hidden all the wrapped up boxes and all the clutters cleared
My son is on the air-o-plane he is getting VERY, very near!

Got the balsam wreathes up from Big Y and hung them on the doors
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
Go pick a pretty bulb out from the boxes on the floor
and set it out at ready for the big tree will soon appear.

Soon I’ll drive to JFK to get the MAN that big ole kid
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
If I had a bright red sleigh I’d get there fast like Santa did,
avoiding all the Yuletide traffic, why yes, I’d steer right clear.

With my red nose and a borrowed beard, red hat and all
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’d shift the pillow in my drawers and the crowd would be appalled
You’d see security winking “There’s a coo-coo over here!”

They’d let me through with no pat down, no scan of Santa’s tummy
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’d shout it to the customs guards “It’s just HIS loony Mummy!”
I need him to set up the pine tree before he disappears.

His friends have called their all waiting there is more of them than me 
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
One of the few times I see that boy by time and spaces decree
I’ll call them all to gather for the trimmings of yesteryear.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Toad and Troll

There was a fussy old toad, yes; some might call him, a curmudgeon, at soul. 
When his ladylove died, he took it in stride, and sought someone else to pester.
Eventually, he came to our lake, and jumped on the Troll Bridge, quite blazon.
Trouble in his eyes, he met the trolls, eye for eye, and with strength, blustered.

“I’m King of the Hill”, he spat out, ignoring the clubs and frowns… all about.
Grandpa Troll looked at the toad, and got ready to do battle, quickly…at that.
I chimed in, “They’re renters my dear. You’ll have to fight me, it’s clear. So dropout.”
“And I’m too worn out, for a silly old toad, who jumps like a gnat, now, scat.”

“I’ll have this bridge”, he said, “I’ll fight you anywhere, so be very, greatly, prepared.”
“I’m worn-out”, I said, “But battle we will. I’ll win! So look where you tread, instead.”
I said,“You challenged me first, so I’ll pick the test, you’ll play Grandpa Troll at Chess”.
Amazement filled the toads eyes, but to my surprise, he took the bait. Rather smart.

Now Grandpa Troll is a whittler. “I’ll commission your own home bridge, if he loses.”
“At the end of the lake, you’ll have a home place. If you lose, you’ll learn to whittle!”
The old toad looked me over, and with a frown, then ask, “What good is whittling?”
“You could make a chess board like no other, Toads verses Trolls, in war forever!”

He agreed that was quite a stake! And knew he couldn’t lose, the old reprobate!
Still he haggled, to strike a better bargain, and he Hee Hawed around for more.
Now, Grandpa Troll had never lost a game.  Still we upped the ante, just the same.
“If you lose, I’ll build you a home bridge… if you teach the youngun’s, chess, instead.”

Now, he was sold! So off they did go, playing chess and whittling, by the seasons.
You know, I’m trying to be a writer, but the interruptions seem to always get harder!
So as you can see… With situations and things such as these …
I’ll just have to keep trying harder, and harder…


Details | Free verse | |

marking time....to my friends on poetry soup.- the Lord helped me fight death and won.

i don't want to be just marking

time.  i died on november 20,

2008, during surgery.  i was

on a vent when i awakened 

december 2, 2008....my sisters'

birthday. what made me llive

i'll never know.  i know there

are things to do on this side

of death.



i have no time for marking time.

i have a stupid bag hanging from

my side now.  i am supposed to

"get comfortable with it".  well

that was a laugh.

that was a laugh until i thought

of the people that had these

things with no hope of ever

getting away from them.



i am so lucky.  14 days i laid

on a vent, then 22 more.

i came home 3 days, 



then 


i had
great pain in my chest...
.
well this is great i said,

a pulmonary emboli, 15 more

days, three days home.



then back to e.r. blood pressure

too high.  this bought me 

4 more days in e.r.



i am home now and finally 

have spent 19 days home.

i feel every pain and i feel

every time that i feel good



yes, i am never marking

time again.....there is

something about fighting

for your life and your sanity

that straightens things out.



i don't recommend it but

i wish i could let your hearts

know what i know.

janetta


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Hottest thing in Town

Hottest Thing in Town

I was kind of feeling merry
Drinking wine and sipping sherry
My mind was ready for a move
My feet were hitching for a groove
I was feeling as high as a kite
My hair was combed, my teeth were white
I was feeling so good
I thought I could, lick anything in sight
I felt the hottest thing in town

I picked myself up and headed for a ball
I was determined something had to fall
I made for the bar and ordered a gin
And eyed up all the girls i cared to win
I felt so good I would get my way
I could not wish for a better day
I was out for fun, I was out to play
I was feeling so good, it felt so right
I felt the hottest thing in town

I danced and boozed away till three
By now I was weary and could hardly see
The crowd was drifting from the floor
Panic set in because I didn't score
I knew why I was there that very night
My pockets were full, the timing was right
I was feeling so good, I had to treatmyself
To one of the damsels of the night

It seems as if I was running out of luck
When out of the blue it suddenly struck
It was my friend from sixty nine
Escorting two broads, who would like to dine
He though I looked lonely, so he would put me right
With a young lady of the night
I was feeling good, I danced again
My anticipitation rekindled for a new game

We chatted and chatted, then walked her to her door
She took me home and bolted the door
Then told me; relax, you know the score

It was just by chance we happen to meet
So lets get cosy, and have us a treat
We haven't got much time to spend together
So lets not behave like a sister and brother

I was feeling so good, things getting hot
My temperature reaching the nineties like a shot
But there was something strange about the lady you see
She had an extra leg where it shouldn't be
As soon as she got home she dropped her frock
Out stood a whopping block!
Man that thing was in a rage
The sight of which I fled the stage
I was feeling so good that very night
But when I got home my black hair was white


Details | Rhyme | |

A Day In The Sun

A Day In The Sun

Dr. James E. Martin

A day at the beach brought lots of fun, 
To all the kids, to everyone. 
With all the excitement everywhere, 
To excessive sunburn nobody cared. 

After hours of baking in the glaring sun, 
Some began noticing they were getting “well-done.” 
As they began nearing day’s end, 
Perhaps too much time they did there spend. 

The long ride home that afternoon 
Brought misery that would not end too soon. 
To have to sit in that confined space 
Made everyone long for another place.

Upon reaching home and journey’s end, 
To another matter they must now attend. 
As preparation was made for a peaceful night, 
A new realization brought much fright. 

As shirts were removed for a relaxing shower, 
All noticed the results of the sun’s power. 
Where once the skin had natural hue, 
Red, like a lobster, was all too true.
.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Trolls And Bridges

A few of my basement Trolls wanted to go out, into the outside world.
And it would be an unkindness, if I kept them from giving it a twirl.
Still, they would need a job, you know, to fit their unusual makeup. 
So, I sorted thru the myths, where the subject of bridges kept coming up.

The idea brought several running to build a bridge over our backyard stream.
Trolls are hard to fathom, but Low and behold, we’d found the perfect thing!
A bridge, dam, waterfall, and cave, all made out of rock, such a beautiful touch!
I promptly stocked the pond with fish. And got ready to show it all off.

But, my Troll friends had already found a home, and had fishing poles in hand.
Now, to step anywhere near the pond, a shiny bauble token must be found.
They didn’t get a job, exactly, but, yes, for them a better home was made.
The neighbors all wanted to employ them to build one, so beautifully arrayed.

That is, until they found the Trolls would make it their home and charge tolls.
In the end, I didn’t lose my buddies; a few just moved outside, so very bold.
For a few baubles and extra treats, some really great parties were often held.
In fact, they built a big barbecue pit, and cook my dinner every night, as well.

How did I bring forth this great accomplishment, you might ask?
You see, their home is on my land and that’s the token, I choose to demand. 
We arranged: that my family pays no tokens, and nightly my dinner is on hand…
Ready to eat, but I’ll supply the fixings for them, too, that will be my treat.

I’m happy to say, they did go into the world, that day, in their own way.
And every body’s animals are safe as I supply what’s on the buffet.
And let it be known, I offered to pay them for all the great work they did.
But Trolls being Trolls, they wanted to eat dinner with us instead.  :)


Details | Rhyme | |

The Red Flops

The Red Flops
 
Its baseball time in Boston Town
 Sure hope the team won t let us down
 Gonzales, Papi and Bobby V.
 Will surely a pennant bring.
 
But oh no the season came
 And all our players came up lame.
 Bailey never threw a pitch
 Followed soon by Youkilis
 
On the Disabled List went Jacoby
 So they brought in a guy named Cody
 needed another infield arm
 So they looked down to the farm.
 
No Paw Sox were ready yet
 Especially not Inglesias
 so they traded and got Avilla
 Started as a home run killer
 
Faded quick tho he didn t last
 So Cody picked up the slack
 Dustin fielded like an all star
 His bats power well not so far.
 
Papi now can hit to right
 High average and his home run might
 But poor Alex can t hit his weight
 All his hits stay inside the gates.
 
Still no Carl in center field
 really good 147 million dollar deal.
 No more Tek behind the plate
 A guy named Salty can t hit his weight.
 
Beckett, Lester and Bucholtz
 Our starting pitching aces trio.
 Have ERA's of almost seventeen
 My mother could outpitch those three.
 
Three cheers to the new guy Middlebrooks
 Home run power, decent looks
 Marlyn Byrd was a former Padre
 Has hit a few and earned his way.
 
Still the season is very young
 only 26 games are gone
 Sox only 7.5 games out.
 Still time to bring the team around.
 
Lets hope the Sox ownership team
 Wants to count wins and not pennies
 Bring the team talent that they need
 To win one more Beantown World Series.


Details | Rhyme | |

Death Came A Knocking While I Was Out

Death came a knocking while I was out
He did not have time for me to be about
Up at five before the sun
Picking up what I left undone
Coffee black cup after cup
Trying to get my body woke up
Do a load of laundry and fry some eggs
Do a load of dishes wake up the kids
Feed them, cloth them solve every crisis extra soon
Off to the school bus jumping over the moon
Let the dog out, put the cat in
Finish to start, end to begin
Wash my face, comb my hair
Put on anything that is near
Rushing out, racing the car
Just an errand here, on time so far
Dry cleaning, day care, drug store
No time for just one more
Clock in at work meeting at nine
Forget lunch who has the time
In basket full, out basket bare
Check an e-mail if you dare
Finally work is done
You clock out on the run
Get bread and milk and sneak a candy bar
The kids are home and they need the car
Soccer, baseball, dancing and the flute
All these activities cost me loot
Hardly time to eat dinner at eight
Home work, baths than a minute to escape
The cat gets out the dog wants in
You're looking in the cupboard for that bottle of gin
Finally a moment of peace
Everybody exhausted and asleep
You forgot Junior's cupcakes off to Wal-Mart
Better gas up saving time to be smart
On the way home a ring on the cell phone
Quick trip to the airport I moan
Spouse trip cancel needs ride
It is okay you will survive
Finally in the drive way and who do you see
Shaking his head as he leaves
Death walking by, he finally gave up
He murmured about a schedule and life's a nut
So as I lay down to rest
My love's hand upon my chest
I hear the crying of a child
The boogie man awoken him in dreams wild
I sometimes wonder if it would bother me
If Death would come back and fetch me
But the note he left upon my door
My soul is mine till I'm ninety-four
He did not have time for me to be about
Death came a knocking while I was out


Details | I do not know? | |

The Bow Leg-ged Girl

      THE BOW LEG-GED GIRL
I took all of your tank tops and your hose and your sox,
and I put them all together in a little brown box.
I put all of your dresses and your shoes in a sack,
and I wrapped it up because I knew you're never coming back.

I took your funky records and your Gaygirl Magazines
and dropped them in the trash with all your green and purple jeans.
I took the clothes I bundled up and gave them away,
to the Salvation Army, it seems like yesterday.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I met a wino on the street, she looks just like you,
she wears a see through blouse and she walks bow legged, too.
She sings those funky songs and plays the guitar outa sight,
and she takes a bath in cheap perfume like you did every night.

She sings about Viet Nam and love we don't show,
No one's told her Viet Nam was fifty years ago.
She's out protesting every day and carries a big sign,
and bites her toenails every night just like you did mine.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

She has a job but all she'll say, it ain't chopping wood.
And it's funny how her money lasts, and she lives so good.
She bought a brand new car one day, a pink Cadillac,
and it's got a bar up in front and mattress in the back.

I don't know why she thinks she has to work every day,
cause I never had a job I just live on my welfare pay.
She picks her nose and rolls each bugger in a sugar ball,
and just like you used to do, then she eats them all.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I married her in the park, it seems like yesterday,
and I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't run away.
She brought her uncle home with her from work the other night,
and her uncle and my cousin all got drunk and had a fight.

She got locked in the bedroom with the meter readers dad,
and they had a lot of fun all night, but I felt awful bad.
He took her home with him a while, but she wouldn't stay,
I wish you'd come back home to me, and run her away.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Verse | |

Grattitude First lesson in Christian Living

Dear little pony, the children’s clown,
Rough mane stands tall, his thick tail tumbles down.
Jiggety, jog.  Yes, some riders have frowned.
Dad can ride him with two feet on the ground!
 
He’s a tough little, nuggety, wonderful chap
Who can live on the roughest of diet mishap.
We don’t feed him oats much, he’ll founder on those,
But if you can ride him you’re right home and hosed!
 
He’s full of the tricks that intelligence brings.
He’s always a challenge until mummy sings
Out loud, lets him know that he can’t get away
With presenting his backside to children today.
 
The children must learn how to command him too.
It isn’t the easiest thing they must do,
But they look for the pleasure of riding again,
So they learn how to handle tough diamond disdain.
 
They must learn how to stop him from racing away
Towards home when his head is turned facing that way.
His mind is on resting with food in his trough,
But his job is to teach, and he does it but tough!
 
Tough diamond’s a doorway to wonderful thrills
In the glorious world of the horseman’s spills
And great challenges.  Once you can master this rascal
Nothing can daunt you.  Introductory sample
 
Of every excitement that riding can offer,
He’s cute, pert, adorable, and he can proffer
Essential abilities.  Gratitude is
The gateway to mastery, sire of bliss!
 
Every offence becomes laughable when
You think back to this tough little customer. Then
Your mind turns to teaching, as Daddy once did.
No more can the mud of offence cause a skid.
 
You’ll go round it.  Or jump it. There’s no need to fall
 When Gratitude’s mastered.  Remembering all
Those scuffles you had that your dad helped you through,
You’ll mother, or father, or teach others too.
 


Details | Lyric | |

Land,Land of the Jews

A duet in the style and melody of Home On The Range
(Palestine) Oh, give me a land where no Hebrews stand where Palestine could live and shine where seldom is seen a Rabbi or ‘stein and Jerusalem could be all mine (chorus) Land, land without Jews where Palestine could live and shine where seldom is seen a Rabbi or ‘stein and Jerusalem could be all mine (Israel) You don’t understand, God gave us this land where Palestine would hate and whine where seldom it seems, peace is a dream and Jerusalem should be all mine (chorus) Land, land of the Jews where Palestine still hates and whines where seldom it seems, peace is the dream and Jerusalem shall be all mine
a parody to the tune of 'Home, Home on the range" written by Warner Baxter One Knight Stand Productions all rights reserved


Details | Free verse | |

Murphy's Law

Today’s’ another day unlike yesterday I am told.
But each one is unique in the troubles that it holds.
To solve all my problems I call on all those good old Patron Saints.
The Catholic Church has Patron Saints I can pray to for everything.

As I get up each morning I pray to St. Martha the protector of housewives.
I need St. Christopher while going to the door, to safely find my way.
Then St. Camilla is handy if I trip and fall getting there, needing aide.
And when I write my poems its St. Cecelia to whom for words I pray.
As my children leave for school its St. Pancras to get them there and home safe.
And when they give me a headache I ask St. Dennis to make it go away.
I pray to St Ambrose as my learned children bring report cards home from school.
And as my children’s music gets loud its St. Cecelia I beg to change it into 
something good.
When in trouble my kids like St. Gerard since they were falsely accused.
And with any time out, I send St. Hippolytus to guard their prison room.
Each month as I pay the rent it’s to St. Margaret I look… so as not to be homeless 
soon.
And when I face my crazy neighbor… its St. Eustace to calm me down, it’s true.
When the dogs misbehave… I ask St. Roch to stop them just once more.
And when I’ve had a bad day its St Dymphna I ask… why I shouldn’t run away.

I’m not Catholic but I like to hedge my bets you see…
I wouldn’t need any of these saints if just one wasn’t my best friend…  truly.
St. Murphy from Murphy’s Law sits upon my shoulder each and every day.
He keeps telling me not to worry… if it can go wrong it will go wrong any way.
He’s my Patron Saint who loves me intensely… most of all!
And I can see why the Catholic Church won’t claim him… no… not at all.

					


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 | |

Java World

The sun comes up and shines on me
To help me greet my day
A cup of coffee, then I get dressed
I'm out and on my way

I stop into my favorite shop
A latte with some foam
A bagel with some cream cheese spread
I pay and then go on

At ten I hit the coffee pot
To get an extra boost
It's gonna be a long, long time
'Til this bird gets home to roost

At lunch I have a sandwich with
Another coffee cup
Maybe something mocha like
I'm sure to drink it up

After work it's restaurant
A burger made with cheese
Pour me up a java cup
And keep it coming please

When I get home and I'm alone
I start a pot to brew
I turn the television on
And then I have a few

Java, whiskey and Kalua
Helps to end my day
Until the morning sun shines through
To start a brand new day


Rockman  :-)


Details | Free verse | |

Poetry Cafe's, Steven Fry and a most Annoying me

I wanna go to a poetry cafe....

In a pink beret and two giant earrings
Sporting a very serious intelligent expression which is obviously not my own
So ill borrow it from some super being like Steven Fry
Just for the night (he can sit at home looking daft, looking me) 
As i fly into the realms of fantasy

Stood in all my regalia, pink floral wellies and beige checkered hacking jacket
Purple courderoys
Spilling my beans
My limited means of getting my 
Very 
Unimportant 
Point across.....

Whilst 
The avante guarde and Mrs Bohemian nod and shake
As my word snake slithers from my agile tongue
The one which spits bile
the one which wreaks havoc when im just being mum

I wanna watch the candles flicker and smoulder
With a man bag over one shoulder
Chuffing
One 
Giant Havanna cigar
Peace man, way out, too far.......

I wanna travel triumphant on the train
Back home again
Resting my feet on the opposite seat 
(just because its wrong) 
Leaning drunken pon my wonky umbrella
Singing that most annoying song

'Pardon me Sir..... is that the cat hoo chewed me new shoes? '

Whilst bemused commuters gaze on

Why ever not! 

Cause Im a whimp...thats why 


Details | Rhyme | |

Ugly

Ugly

Eww! What’s this crap all over my face?
Feeling ugly and like such a disgrace.

Too embarrassed to go outside.
Stay home and my face I hide.

I slap on foundation
but this acne’s formed it’s own nation.

I pop my pimples in desperation.
I’ve caused scars, a hideous creation.

When will this stop? Never?
Maybe I’m stuck like this forever.

“Calm down this stress can’t be good”.
Friends encourage, “you’re still beautiful, Understood?”

Slapping prescriptions and home remedies all over my face.
Relax, this will go away at its own pace.

I stopped crying and patiently I wait.
It’s over, lookin good, I can finally go on my date. :)


Details | Rhyme | |

It's An Owl

Remember the nights we drove home in the dark
Kitchen fitting all day really wasn’t a lark
As we drove home we would see many a fowl
And you always shouted I think it’s an owl

A pigeon a crow a pheasant or a bat
Was always an owl and that was just that
It became a joke we used to stay awake
It also helped the boredom to break

Every journey home no matter how late
You always saw six thousand owls old mate
It was never discussed what type they were
It was just an owl even if it had fur

They were great days the two of us on the road
Working together and sharing the load
Having a laugh, the long drive a howl
Every half mile when you spotted an owl 


Details | I do not know? | |

WHAT IS HOME?

WHAT IS HOME?

ROLLING HILLS ARE HOME TO ME,
PLAYING CHESS WITH FRIENDS,
DANCING ON THE WEEKEND,
WALKING IN THE WIND,
BLOWING BUBBLES.

(Reflect)

BUBBLES BLOWING WIND,
THE “IN” WALKING WEEKEND,
THE “ON” DANCING FRIENDS
WITH CHESS PLAYING ME. 
TO HOME ARE HILLS ROLLING?


Details | Rhyme | |

MOONBEAMS DANCING

I was at a party that very unforgettable day
My hosts were really asking me to stay
But I told them that I should go on my way
Go home, get to bed and sleep it all away

So I bid them good bye and got in my car
My home wasn’t really all that far
Then I heard something that sounded so peculiar
Whispering voices that sounded so bizarre

I started shaking feeling a bit afraid
Wishing inside for the voices to fade
I tried to ignore it and fervently prayed
But inside the car the horrible voices stayed

I looked to the right to watch out for my exit
I had to get out cause I was already at the edge of my seat
I might have an attack by the rate of my heartbeat
Took a right so I could find an inhabited street

But what I saw instead was so amazing
I saw a couple of moonbeams dancing
Then I heard a loud siren screeching
One of the moonbeams now was steadily nearing

Then I heard the moonbeam in a loud voice speak
What I heard shocked me, made my knees go weak
I started feeling in the stomach very sick
I covered my eyes from the glare and tried to take a peek

Saw a tall shadow standing there asking
Sir how much have you been drinking?
Didn’t you see the sign before entering?
Maybe not cause you’re drunk by the way you are acting

And please turn off your car radio sir
It’s not giving out anything but a sound that’s a blur
Next time you should stay where you are so this won’t occur
Or better yet hire yourself a real good chauffeur

I was so embarrassed on what I had found
I just entered the CIA compound
I wished there was a way that I could just turn around
All this was really making my heart and head pound

So I stepped out of the car and started apologizing
Couldn’t really tell him about the moonbeams dancing
For a chance to sober up and drive home I was begging
And promised to never again go driving when I have been drinking


Details | Rhyme | |

The random pumpkin

The flyer through the letterbox claimed 'pumpkins now half price'
I'll make a pie for Ma-in-law, for once do something nice
I was told to bring a wheelbarrow, maybe a pair of wellies
But all this preparation, still did not prepare me
For when I reached the pumpkin patch, behold, there dazzling bright
Were twenty seven pumpkins, none orange, but white!
I rubbed my eyes and scratched my head, but still they didnt change
And thought inside my muddled mind 'the grower must be strange'
But still I paid  the buying fee for my rare and freaky fruit
Rolled it in my barrow and squelched home in my boots
Then when I got it home I sat and stared an hour or two
I wanted orange pumpkin pie but white will have to do
I dont know yet how I'll explain this to my Ma-in law
She'll take one look at anaemic pie and laugh me out the door!
But beggars can't be choosers, I'm just gonna have to blag it
And next time I want pumpkin pie, go to the supermarket

27th October 2011


Details | Rhyme | |

The Ballad Of Candy

While riding home after having beer, two, 
a friend of ours ended up covered in poo.
He was tipsy and feeling quite queasy,
for an old man, he got drunk very easy.

In the back seat waited his wife's favorite dog,
who suddenly landed in his lap like a log.
She started to squirm and whine very strong.
Never did find out why he had taken her along.

His wife said "I think she needs to go potty".
He didn't care, he slurred rather spotty,
"I just want to go home and go to bed".
But, that pup had other ideas in her head.

Louder, the pup whined out her painful cause,
at the window she scratched with her paws.
Still there on the lap of our drunken friend,
one mile from home, he wouldn't give in.

Natural body functions, being as they are,
intensified by the rough ride in the car,
would not be held back, though she tried all she could.
Can you see where this is leading?  If not, you should.

Home now in sight, the pup in a panic,
her functions cut loose, with all the organics.
Not just a mere plop of a log, but loose stool.
There our friend sat...in the car...in a pool.

Down the front of his shirt, filling the pocket,
where his cell phone resided.  I ain't gonna touch it!
Covering his lap in a sticky black goo,
it even ran down his pants, into his shoe.

He wasn't allowed into his own home.
Stripped out of his clothes, the hose, he was shown.
The pup stood right there just wagging her tail,
as if to say "AHhhhh!  I feel very well"

We still laugh at our friends adventure to this day.
But, when we go for pizza, from the beer he stays away.
He no longer rides with the pup in the car,
and the pup, we all panic, when she goes to fart.


Entry for "Pet Sit Panic" contest
Hosted by: Sharon Tideswell
Placement: none
second contest placement: 2nd

*** This is a true story.  The pup was a 65 pound Golden Retriever.  Think about that 
for a bit.


Details | Narrative | |

Terry

Granddad loved to kid around.
I can still hear his loud gregarious laugh.
He teased me saying that a boy in the neighborhood was …
My boyfriend!
At first, I didn’t know what a boyfriend was.
We were about five or six years old back then.
When we walked home from school,
Granddad put me up to giving Terry a kiss.
Try as I might, with granddad taunting,
“Run Dane Run!  Give him a kiss!”
Terry squealed all the way home -
Running as fast as he could,
He always got away!
Granddad laughed and laughed.
I chased the poor boy almost every day.
And Terry cried.  But we were still friends.
Then, came the day we had our first date.
Our parents dropped us off at a movie.  
I think it was “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”
At the ripe old age of seven, maybe eight,
It was the perfect choice.
We sat there together with some older children.
Holding hands never crossed our minds.
Neither did kissing.  
(I guess the fun was in the chase 
And granddad laughing.)
We went home awestruck by animations.
We played a lot, never thinking about a kiss.
My family moved away that same year.
Terry grew up and married somebody else.
We never did K-I-S-S at the movie…
Or in a tree, or anywhere at all!
But I always remember him fondly.
Smiling!


© July 9, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen


Details | Free verse | |

Continuation

I gave you the tale of my computer
Last month 
All is working....... 
Well sort of.

And again it came down to me to put in a network card.
It put up a stubborn  fight 
But two days later I MADE IT WORK! 
It really wasn't that hard

But there were other things 
Like licenses for the vehicles and me
Mine was the problem
My birth certificate name was different you see.

I had had it changed
But who knows in what state
The lawyer said "shoot
The one on your birth certificate will do.".

The Kansas license was personalized
And a beautiful thing
I decided I'd  keep it 
And one day put it out for all to see.

When I removed it 
I brought it inside
Washed and dried it 
And set it aside.

One evening Shirlee and Fred came by
On their way home from work
I wasn't here but they left some no, no's
For my dessert.

The next day they came by to give me a ride
It was off to garage sales we would go
Shirlee looked at me and said
"Mom is that your idea of a joke?"


I didn't pick up on what she meant
And she pointed toward the stove.
" I mean ," she said "Do you intend to leave your 
License plate up there?"

I told you it was special,
I didn't want it to get hurt
So I placed it on the vent
Above the cook stove to make sure.

It was tan 
And a buffalo stood with pride
The letters C I L E
Were printed on it's side.

I still didn't get the drift
Until she pointed to the four little words
And Read 
"HOME ON THE RANGE."

I had to sit down 
I was laughing so hard 
And when I think back
I still get a charge.

I haven't yet found my home on the range 
But I'll tell you this my friends
Following the next four lines 
You can add the word, AMEN

No more cooking 
I am through
If you can't use the micro wave
BOO HOO!

                              Cile Beer


Details | Narrative | |

Don't Forget The Chips!

“Honey, did you buy the chips?” No baby, I’ll get that later"
Are you sure you won’t forget?” “Naw” 
“I’ll run by the store” on my way home from the gym
“What are you looking for?”  I ask. “My keys”. He says
“Where did you leave them?” I ask.  Right there” Pointing, He says 
"No", I shake my head as I point towards the top of the fridge, 
Where he left the keys
A quick exchange of a kiss and he's running out the door
"See you later babe.. I’m running late"
“Yeah, be home early to light the grill” I yell
Don’t worry, I will”. Those are the last words he says

It’s Monday Night Football everyone’s prep for the game. 
The beer is chilled, the beef set to grill 
Soon the guys will be over as it’ is our turn to host
Only ten minutes to game time, when loud laughter erupts
As seven men carrying beer kegs burst through the door
After the greetings and teasing and jostling subside
Every seat occupied and one bellows out, “Where're the chips?”
Each one looks at the other. Then they all look at me!
“Hey, don’t look at me!” I say. I exit and return, bringing bowls laden with chips…
He looks up at me with that smile and all I see, is the excited little boy in him


Details | Light Poetry | |

Carter Claus

*recite to Night Before Christmas

Who was this white haired Claus 
with buck-rabbit teeth? 
Carrying a ton of peanuts 
for everyone to eat.

Dragged in a sleigh 
pulled by Agnew and Nixon, 
who ran right beside 
old Donnar and Blitzen? 

He circled Camp David, 
A fast fly by; 
with lox and bagels 
for Jewish guys. 

A carpenters’ pencil 
was poised by his ear, 
and boxes of nails dangled, 
from the gear in the rear. 

Why! It's Jolly Ole Carter Claus 
draped in menorahs. 
Handing out home plans to 
the Arab before us. 

Visions of world peace 
danced in his head; 
as, he flew to Afghanistan
‘Fore noggin hit bed. 

When down from the sky 
in the form of deer dung, 
fell fruit tree seeds 
to be sown in the sun. 

And, as Carter Claus’ whip
cracked O’er Nixon's ear, 
as Agnew blanched, 
his eyes filling with tears. 

Droplets hit sand with 
a plop and a splatter 
’pon the fruit tree seeds with 
nary a clatter. 

The desert grew green. 
Trees sprouted and grew. 
Hearts filled with wonder 
bellies with stew. 

Homes were rebuilt, 
as before the fall. 
Cook fires were lit. 
Children grew tall. 

And Ole Carter Claus 
flew home in a daze, 
passing out sandwiches 
that Roslyn had made.


Details | Light Poetry | |

International Incident

I’ve been time traveling recently. Going back through events in my life. You might be inflicted with my memories for a while. 

No, I didn’t make this up. It actually happened just this way.

My dad was always trying his best our horizons to expand
He taught us to extend our hand and shake just like a man

And if there was an opportunity to bring culture to his brood
He’d insist that we all try it like eating octopus for food

One night he brought home a fellow businessman
He came from far off Sweden just to visit with our clan.

Mom made sure that we were dressed and we practiced our handshake
She told us all to be polite and about the extra effort we should make.

When dad came home we all lined up and were quiet, not a word
Then dad turned to the four of us and said, “Boys this is my friend Turd.”

Why his name couldn’t have been Sven or Lars is hard to understand
And why couldn’t dad have warned us, it should have been better planed.

But he didn’t, he just said it and let it ring inside our ears
We tried our best to hold it in but it started to bring tears.

I made the mistake of turning my head to look at my three brothers,
And just like me each of them was turning to look at the three others.

That’s all it took the dam was burst our quivering jaws let loose
We spit and laughed even knowing that our necks were in the noose.

Some advice to you young fathers now seeing what could be at stake
There’s only so much diplomacy a ten year old can take.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Feed me!

If you talk to your flowers
And they start talking back
If they ask for a bite
When you’re having a snack

If they grab you and hug you
As you’re passing by
And your home is devoid 
Of both spider and fly

Then its time for some action
To stop it expanding
For as it gets bigger 
It gets more demanding

Insisting on beef steak 
But much worse than that
You’ll get home one day
And be missing a cat 

Its appetite growing
You’ll be feeling perplexed
Then, one day on the menu
You find you are next


Details | Rhyme | |

Working she thought I be

so there I was 
fishin just because
working I told her I be

she didn't know my where abouts
or me in's and me outs
bet her I'm home by 2 or 3

trolling a long
scratchin my ding dong
happy as could be

so there I was
don't know why it do's what it does
It was a sound so eerie

then there was a pop
the outboard came to a stop
stranded there I be

so I ate a moon pie in style
drank RC cola awhile
and stared at the sea

then I knew it wasn't the end 
but there came a little wind
and capsized I be

so there I was all alone
and was scared to the bone
all around me was sea 

before me flashed my life
and my beautiful wife
a widdow, she will be

I knew I wouldn't fail her
I'm the son of a sailer
tuffer than nails I be

so without my boat
I did the dead mans float
and swam, when I, had energy

oh how I wished
I didn't get jellyfished
stinging, all over, me

"god I can't tell you where to begin"
"promise I won't do it again!"
"fishing, she'll know I be"

"so if I had another chance"
"I just pooped in my pants!"
"I won't, let you, down you see"

"so forgive for my sin"
"and I'll say amen"
"I sure, hope, you hear me"

I almost gave up
but I kept my chip up
it just wasn't meant to be 

so with all that I am
I kicked hard, paddled, and swam
then a shrimp boat I see

then with god I made a bet
when it passed by I'd grab the net
thankfully saved I be

well I was no longer alone
and on my way home 
hero's they were to me

and though I was wet
my wife lost the bet
made it home by a quater to three.....
..............am

By Captain Mike


Details | Narrative | |

Don't Go Near The River

Don’t go near the river a tree has fallen down
The flow is blocked and it caused a dam if you fall in you could drown
But to us children this an invitation was
A big happening in our lives we had to see the cause
Of course we would not climb down to the tree
From high upon the bank we would satisfy our curiosity

Down Milfort Avenue we all trouped 
The excitement mounting with-in our group
The boys were there first of course
Down at the roots torn from the ground with such force
You girls they shouted stay away it was their find
Just go home play with your dolls and leave our tree behind
Well did you ever hear such rot 
We will soon show that lot

Mother’s warning soon forgot down we went to the spot
Those roots from up high did not seem so tall
But now down beside them we were made to feel small
Like gaint arms they were all slimy and wet
But we girls would conquer this climb you bet 
I never was brave and from the start
My legs were shaking and in my heart
I knew I should back down and risk being the fool
But pride would not let me so I tried to act cool

The others had climbed over and to the far side had gone
Knowing I was frightened they egged me on
Up I went onto that tree trunk
Looking down to the river below my heart sunk
What would I do if I fell in I had never learned to swim
Well it happened and into water I fell for my sins
Plunged to the bottom then up I floated gasping for air 
Again the depths called the water my death would share
With bravery someone dived in to save me from my watery grave
Trailed to the bank and with the water pumped out my life was saved

A neighbor heard the commotion and running came
Then into her house to recover my legs some strength to gain
For the walk back home to face Mum my misbehavior to declare
I really was a sorry sight but I did not care
Jumper and tartan skirt soggy the red dye running down my thighs
Perhaps she would think it was blood I had better start to cry

Water filled the fur lined leather boots which slopped and weighed a ton
My dad had worked for hours to pay for them and look what had I done
So sorry I was for myself but punishment I had to accept 
My friends there with me for support they stayed and yet
When Mum’s face through that front door appeared
They drifted away the blame they feared
In I was hauled and asked to explain
Why I had ignored her orders given so plain


Details | Free verse | |

If I Were A Fly

If I were a fly on the wall I would
Never sleep,

I would hear all

See all

If I were a fly on the wall I would
Tell all.

No, don’t think so

You might as well forget about
The thing called sleep

I would harass you day and night
And fade into the darkness

I will eat your food and continue
To grow

Bigger and bigger I will grow

I still will retain my power to fade
Within the walls

To my safe haven called home

For this specified state I will surrender
My all

My safety is met within your walls, I
Call home

While I do these treacherous deeds

But I certainly would buy me a
Pair of seeing glasses and

Keep them free of lint and dust

I would perch my self high above
Close to the ceiling,

Your head is my target

Moon pies is my bombs

Just whistling around your head
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz

But, want it be fun?

You’ll dry your face from all the water
That spill’s and leak''s

“Oops”

Excuse me, 

These were not of my intention

Don’t hit me sir, please sir don’t hit
Me,

I’ll find another home just let me
Fly away

“Hehehehe”

"Thinking"

Into another wall in your house
But,

Close to wherever you sit not to
Miss any fun

In silence I’m thinking of making
Myself a new home

We’ll make our home as we feed and
Become an nuisance

Flying and buzzing, buzzing around your
Head

Singing you will never rid yourself of me

I will only make more of my litter

To infest your home with my off spring

Our species rise to be stronger as one


Details | Verse | |

Maybe This House Is Haunted

I’m not the superstitious type, 
Let’s say I’m an agnostic. 
Last night, laying in bed, she told me 
she heard a strange noise in the house,
to which I said, maybe the house is haunted,
to which she said, well if it is, I’m out of here.

That got me thinking.  What if it is haunted?
After all it is an old house, slightly sad 
and isolated.  Until she came, we were 
two outcasts, the dog and I, united
in our filth and bad habits.  Until she came
in a hygienic wave of regime change.

Now that I’m clean, and the dog is 
Soon to be dog gone, I have started 
to listen and feel.  So many details,
unexplained, incomplete, especially
late at night when we can’t sleep.  
These things that just get in between.

It takes two, to conjure up the dead,
One to invoke, and one to believe
Without a witness, there is no fear.
Did you hear that, there it is again
to which I said, maybe the house is haunted,
to which she said, well if it is, I’m out of here.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Mazel Tov

Ezra was a wise old bird and he knew very well of what he spoke,
But his words to the scattered nation almost caused the men to choke.

God is mad at all of us and we need to get ourselves back in his good graces,
But He can see too many foreigners and he wants our girls in their places.

So boys if you ever hope to go back home sometime in your lives,
You’re going to have to do what I say and get rid of your shiksa wives.

When the Lord can look down and see that to nice Jewish girls you’re wed,
He’ll send us home to live again as long as we stay Kosher in the bed.

Ezra - Chapter 10
10:1Now while Ezra prayed and made confession, weeping and casting himself down before the house of God, there was gathered together to him out of Israel a very great assembly of men and women and children; for the people wept very sore. 10:2Shecaniah the son of Jehiel, one of the sons of Elam, answered Ezra, We have trespassed against our God, and have married foreign women of the peoples of the land: yet now there is hope for Israel concerning this thing. 10:3Now therefore let us make a covenant with our God to put away all the wives, and such as are born of them, according to the counsel of my lord, and of those who tremble at the commandment of our God; and let it be done according to the law. 10:4Arise; for the matter belongs to you, and we are with you: be of good courage, and do it. 10:5Then arose Ezra, and made the chiefs of the priests, the Levites, and all Israel, to swear that they would do according to this word. So they swore. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Devil Is In The Plans

I question how your methods are effective in getting rid of that e-bay house. 
I know the $1000.00 offer was short of a mouse. 
I don't know if buying an e-bay house is like buying a ho
but somehow you discover it can put you in the hole. 
some one breaks in your e-bay home and steal the pipes and wires
then you are going home with almost flat tires
thank God you went home with all your tools in the truck
the drone in the horror scope warned u would be out of  luck 
my feelings do not steer me wrong
because I have emotional IQ
I woulda taken the loss with the $1000.00 if I were you


Details | Rhyme | |

Little Pearls

Little pearls of wisdom
that flow from my pen.

They do pluck a nerve
or hit home now and then.

All are ment to be truths
we understand and know.

A lesson encapsulated in humor
and clever words for show.

If one of my pearls you do see
and it flips a switch
like the thought did for me.

Then praise be to God
for I have hit a home run.

I have delivered a lesson
with a mere dose of fun.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Ole Max (inspired by Andrea)

This poem is inspired by and I guess coud be in conjunction With Andrea Dietrich's wonderful 
little poem" Dog that Wears a Cone" so her's should be read first if you have not already!


We once had a Lab, black with white socks,
he was so very loveable, but I'm afraid,
dumber than a box of rocks.

For the third time that "houdini dog" got loose,
and for the third time got a bad case of porky quills.
That dog would often slip his noose.
Took him five days to get home from them hills.

The poor dog limped home almost dead,
Vet filled him with meds,
and stuck a cone on his poor little head!
and for two days he went through all Andrea said.

Then I came home and hurried,
Cause my wife called quite worried.
Seems loveable coneheaded Max acted quite sick,
it had been two days since he got into that fix.

And for two days he had not himself relieved!
We pulled off his cone so he was able to sniff,
and he made straightway for some trees,
he sniffed around and his leg he did lift...
and goodness gracious..how he peed!!!


Details | Rhyme | |

Roscoe Had Too Much to Drink

Roscoe Had Too Much to Drink

By Elton Camp

Roscoe drank so much that he felt unsteady
To drive home in his car, he just wasn't ready

"If I should get caught by the town police again,
The case, with the judge, I'll never hope to win."

So he left his car parked out back of the saloon
Roscoe was headed home on a bus very soon

It was good he did, for down the road a mile
Cop reaction at a roadblock made him smile

They were looking for people drunk it's true
But the large bus they simply waved through

At home, his wife met him angrily at the door
"Shame!  You've been drunk like this before."

"This time I came by bus instead of our car.
To risk wrecking it again would be bizarre."

"I don't think that you have a right to fuss.
But I admit I don't recall stealing that bus."


Details | Free verse | |

Drawers I Have Known

The thing about drawers,
they hide clutter.
If company's coming,
do a bit of “stuff it” cleaning; 
throw stuff in a drawer, and close it. 
Neatness counts.

The problem evolves -
how to remember - what went where.

“Where’s the thermometer?”

“I don’t know. 
It should be in the linen closet.”

“Well, it isn’t!”

“Try drawer number seven.”

“That’s the first place I looked.”

Drawer number seven
is the ‘catch-all’ drawer.
Of all the drawers I have known,
drawer number seven
is the most fascinating.
If you go rummaging,
you never know what you’ll find.

Rosemary Clooney’s song,
“Come Ona My House” expresses
her desire to give you everything.

If you come to our house,
we might match her desire
but I’m not sure we’d know
where to find stuff.








Details | Free verse | |

PLAY BALL

PLAY   BALL

So I’m behind the bleachers with Sue Ellen
And we weren’t calculating batting averages
And I says to  her baby you’re my home run
I’ve always dreamed about.

I know about first and second base
She said,  but what’s third base?
So I used the Abbott and Costello 
“Who’s on first” routine to  confuse her.

Between innings we had made some progress
But I was anxious to  clinch the game
Before some  pinch-hitter stepped in. 
I wanted to take the pennant.

She hemmed and hawed and delayed
Playing ball with me : what we had here 
“Was a failure to communicate” ,
And the home run seemed out of reach.

Till there was a hush from the bleachers.
Above us the voice, seeming of god,
Instructed her as what to do.
It said,  “Play Ball !”
	
That was my first turn at bat
And  the home run was delivered -
As the crowd above cheered wildly,
I believe,  for me.

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

Written  for  Debbie Guzzi's Contest  "Play Ball"


Details | Couplet | |

BEETLE SLEEP

BEETLE    SLEEP


Do beetles go home at night?
Or just sleep wherever  they happen to alight?
Do wife beetles ask themselves  
If beetle  husbands are out searching the foodshelves?
Or are they having a cold one, 
Listening to what  the beetle guys have done?
Do beetle children  ask where’s daddy today?
(And haven’t seen him since April or May.)
How does beetle mail reach them by road
if they have no fixed abode?
Do they just collect it at the post office?
Or use another communication artifice?

Next time you see a beetle in the dirt
Don’t attempt his progress to divert
Let him continue home for the night
So kids, mum, and he can all sleep tight.


Details | Rhyme | |

GRAN'S LAST WISH

Our Gran, that’s on my mother’s side, was British born and raised, 
     until the age of ten it seems, then Gran was quite amazed  
to find her mum and dad had planned to emigrate for good, 
     to Sydney in Australia and a brand new neighbourhood.  
 
My mum was born in Sydney and she married there as well  
     and that is where she raised me like and by the way I’m Nell. 
Last year old Gran was eighty-five and sensed her time was near, 
     so planned on one last visit back to England late last year. 
 
She stayed there for three months or more with her dear cousin Em 
     and e-mailed every Friday without fail ‘round 8 p.m. 
Then suddenly the e-mails stopped, we heard from her no more, 
     till late last week the mailman dropped a package at our door. 
 
The stamps were clearly British, so it seemed that Gran was well, 
     but when we saw the contents we were dumb struck for a spell. 
Inside we found two packets that were labelled Heinz Leek Soup 
     and that was all, no, nothing else, which stunned our family group. 
 
We figured … well it seems to us … Gran fancies this Leek brew 
     and kindly sent a sample so that we could taste it too. 
Mum added just a dash of cream to thicken it no doubt, 
     but after eating half of it we had to tip it out. 
 
It tasted flaming terrible and failed to see how Gran 
     could recommend that soup from hell to all our Aussie clan. 
To our surprise the Postman dropped a letter by next day, 
     again it was from England, so we read it straight away. 
 
It was a note from cousin Em and this is what she said. 
     “Regret to have to tell you folk your dear old Gran is dead. 
She passed away last Tuesday, but before she breathed her last 
     Gran told me her last wishes and so this is what has past. 

“We didn’t want to burden you with debt and all the fuss 
     of getting Gran back home you see, so it seemed clear to us, 
if we had Gran cremated we could send her home to you 
     and save the legal rigmarole most other folk go through. 
 
“We placed Gran in the soup packets, but in the rush I’d say, 
     forgot to put this letter in, though sent it off next day.  
My heart goes out to all of you - your Gran was such a gem.    
     And please forgive the mix-up folks.   Yours truly.  Cousin Em.” 
 
 
 
Some years ago I remembered hearing a news item relating to how this mix up 
occurred and 
I thought others might enjoy hearing the tale in verse. 


Details | Rhyme | |

Trucking

Took my truck to Albany last week,
Lost my fan belts,had a flat on the street.
Went to New York,the big apple at last,
Crossed the toll bridge,they took my pass.
Went to Minnesota,clear to the end.
Can't find a load,you are laid over my friend.
Went to Louisiana,trying to get home you see,
Only to find out,I was bound for Milwakee.
I quit making plans now that I find,
When not making plans,I get great home time.


Details | I do not know? | |

Funny bunny and teddy bear

Funny bunny was a nosy one
Always out looking for fun
Never staying in his nest
He's always searching for a quest
Little funny bunny was lost in the woods
He was playing not watching like he should
He hears a noise just up ahead
He's kind of scared and filled with dread 
As he sits and waits to see what there
He sees the tail of a teddy bear
Starting to hop quickly as he could
He stops to wonder if teddy's good 
That little funny bunny was scared 
Not sure he dared talk to teddy bear
By the time teddy bear walked on passed
Funny bunny decided to go home at last
Funny bunny knew he was through with his quest
Time to go home and snuggle with the rest
Cheryl L MacDonald


Details | ABC | |

They Call Me Busta Pheasant (

I started my career 
As a person that removed wax from ears
It was down in the Texas Panhandle
I would use the wax to make candles
But then no one wanted their ears cleaned 
The work was Far and few in between
It will be time to relocate in June to Mount Pleasant
Maybe because they call me Busta Pheasant
June came and went and I am still here
Oops just spilled some coffee on my clothes, time for some all Tempa Cheer
The ladies call my gangsta name stupid
Me and you will be together, I'm just waiting on Cupid
My real name is Harry Bikiniline
Now you know why I am a prime example of out of sight, out of mind
I want to thank my parents for the wonderful present
For my stupid name forcing me to become  aka Busta Pheasant
The guys laugh they don't me as a serious threat to their girls
I tell them I bet you wouldn't survive in my world
My life is based on performance excellence
You're just jealous because you can't be called Busta Pheasant
Go ahead and contact 5-2-9 and Puddin' to ride in your Pacer on four doughnuts 
wearing your wife beater shirt
I will be stabilized at my home like the Enterprise with Captain Kirk
My Mom and Dad ask me when I am moving out
I tell them as soon as I build some clout
So they kick me out, I am renting a portion of the back yard and living in a tent
I have sign up that reads home of Busta Pheasant




Details | Free verse | |

New York

Bull Rider of Day and Night
Sperm of Population, Home of Insomnia
Place of Yellow Cabs and Nation's NASDAQ's Business
Highlife, Loud, Crime
City of making it Big:
When I am there I am told that you are strong, for I have seen NYPD Blue sirens 
everywhere, catching what might harm you or me.
I see the night approach as to cover me with blindness: Yeah in my mind crime 
might come for me.
Yet you are a Big Apple, and that apples are good for me: yet you are the Big 
Apple that has so much poison.
Is there away for me to escape the worm that may make me sick, and bite into a 
better Big Apple:
I feel confined like I am in a box with no way out I need my South for comfort,
High Sky Scrapers with flashy lights like among Las Veges show lights, you look 
Bold,and are in an A class line:
Tough as steel like Philadelphia's Arch, Sneaky as a King Cobra,
Open Arms,
Wonderful Shops,
Havoc Traffic,
Block Parties,
Big Bridges, Little Bridges, Over Rises,
Mostly clear starynites, like bling bling earrings, shine like high beams on a car.
Moments of terrible Migraines of the city with too many lights.
Land of many possibilities of many jobs and Famous Celebrities.
Hooray!!!!
Wonderful Place of Famous Baseball Teams, Snowy Winters, Homeless people 
Begging, Home of Greed to the Bull Rider, of Day and Night, Sperm of 
Population, Home of Insomnia and Place of Yellow Cabs, and Nations.


Details | ABC | |

My Wig (

We leave on vacation to see the Grand Canyon 
I ask my son when is the last time ha changed his socks, his feet smell like 
salmon 
My wife laughs and says that isn't his feet, it's his breath 
I tell her no more equate toothpaste, we're switching to Crest 
My wife says in a panicky voice, I forgot my social life line 
I tell her to calm down, everything will be fine 
She says, turn around and head toward home with the speed of a Russian Mig 
We can't take this trip, I can't be without my wig 
One hour and two tickets later we finally arrive back home 
Now she has her wig in hand and her voice has a nice, calm tone 
She says what are we waiting for, let's be on our way 
It's only 9:30am, it's already been a long, long day 
Now we are back to the area where we had to turn around 
I remember that singles club called Lost and Found 
As evening settles in, we stop by an eatery called The Autumn Twig 
She says please bear with me as I put on my wig 
My son and I sit in the car quietly, as we are close to death from a lack of food 
My wife tells us let's enjoy our vacation, you two need to adjust your attitudes 
We sit in the car and watch as people come out of this greasy spoon diner 
I keep reading their slogan, If you're lookin' for rib stickin' food ain't none finer 
I keep having these visions of me at the table, eating so much, my wife and son 
call me a pig 
Finally she is done fixing her wig 
I watch in horror as the Diner's lights go off 
My dream is gone, no pig, no trough 
She says in disgust, that's just great, where can we get a bite to eat now 
I tell her about a barbecue joint five up the road called Four Sides of a Cow 
She says okay, but I could not belive what she just did 
She smiles and says I told you everything will be okay, as she removes her wig 
We arrive outside the place rated as some of the best barbecue around 
She throws her wig on the dash and laughs like a circus clown 
She says my hunger has taken over, I believe she's flipped her lid 
She says let's go on inside, these people don't know me, they have never seen 
me without my wig


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Hot Chocolate

   
 
    A neighbor returned home early from a vacation in Switzerland.  When asked 
about his trip he seemed a little hesitant to talk about it.  Finally he shrugged his 
shoulders and said, "I found it rather an unfriendly place."
 
    Puzzled about such a statement I asked why?
 
    "The first evening in Geneva I asked for a cup of hot chocolate and they kicked 
me out of the establishment. 'Sir we'll have none of that in here,' he told me."
 
       "The next morning I decided to eat at the hotel where I was staying and the 
same thing happened.  Only this time they kicked me out bag and baggage and 
told me not to come back.  I found a rooming house and spent the night there.  
The next morning the same thing happened when I asked for a cup of hot 
chocolate."
 
        "Soon my presence was known all over town and I couldn't get another 
room.  So I had to come home early.  It was as though I had a bad reputation or 
something."
 
      I was totally shocked.  How could such a straight laced religious man cause 
such an up roar?  And this was so out of character for the things I had heard 
about the Swiss people.
 
       "If you ever go to that country don't order the Hot Chocolate.  It must be taboo 
to serve it."
 
     How could a simple cup of Hot Chocolate cause such a commotion?
 
      
     "Are you sure it was the HOT CHOCOLATE that caused the problem?"
 
      "Of Coures it was.  I'd go into a restaurant and ask for an extra ' HOT SWISS 
MISS ' and they'd throw me out."
 
       
 
 
Gotcha__ Didn't I?     


Details | Lyric | |

No Bait

I camped upon a stream so clear,
by chance to catch some Trout.
the bait I thought I'd brought along,
I found that I'd left without.

It really didn't matter though,
that I could do no fishing.
Its better to have gone and watched,
than sat at home just wishing.

Now the moral of this story is,
don't sit at home and wish.
And never leave your bait at home,
when your going after fish.





















Details | I do not know? | |

Ladies man

(This is a fictional poem)

I came home early one day and saw my wife in bed with another man.
I grabbed my shotgun and you should've saw how fast he ran.
I immediately got a divorce and married somebody new.
But I came home one day and found her in bed with that man too.
I threw him through the window and he got cut by the glass.
A big shard of it got stuck up his ass.
I married a third time and I caught her and that same man in bed.
I made my german shepherds attack him and I let my mule kick him in the head.
I reluctantly decided to marry wife number four.
But I caught her with the same man like the times I did before.
This man is someone I've always hated.
I had all I could take so I grabbed a knife and now he's been castrated.


Details | I do not know? | |

Imagine that ,illoshkas hat

  Six tigers swam across the bay
they sniffed the air and came my way
   I had no fear but asked the time
they answered me in pantomime
   I tipped my hat and said Goodbye
but tiger five began to cry
so I went with them for a chat
without a word....imagine that
    we ate an elderberry stew
across a bridge inTimbuktu
with seven sisters singing grace
   we bought a condo on the place
I caught some stars at dinnertime
   we ate them with blueberry wine
then mother called me from the moon
she smiled and told me "Be home soon".
  '"illoshka wants his hat returned,
you should have asked,and now youv'e learned'
  I should have asked,imagine that
before I wore illoshkas hat
  I took it off and looked around
my mind returned to solid ground
   The tigers turned to swaying palms
the seven sisters sang their psalms
   and waved Goodbye across the bay
the condo turned to bits of clay
   and I went home where mother sat
waiting for illoshkas hat.


Details | Narrative | |

Braggin Rights

 I’m from the great state of Texas, the biggest and the best.
   No other place is like it, be either east, north, south, or west.
I went to California, to see the golden state.
   I even seen that bridge out there, one called the golden gate.
I realized really quick, I wasn’t happy here.
   So I turned my truck right around, and for Texas I did steer.
As I reached El Paso town I stopped and had a bean.
   And admired the senoritas there, the prettiest I think I’ve ever seen.
I kept on heading east I guess, I drove for days  and days.
   Big D is just up ahead, the lights are all ablaze.
The Cowboys must be playing home tonight, I think I’ll check it out.
Victoriously they won their game, but was there any doubt.
  I left that town, heading south to Corpus, the city by the sea.
   I longed to see the sandy shores of Padre, a place so dear to me. 
I guess I must be getting close, I smell the briny air.
   Corpus is the place I love, with people kind and fair.
I stayed and got my rest, I stayed for two whole nights.
   I decided San Antone I’d visit next, and just check out her sights.
I wanted to see the Alamo, but saw the dome instead.
   What was I really thinking, twas rocks inside my head.
Laredo was next on the list, lowest point on the Texas map.
   Upon this map I’m looking at I see a two inch gap.
If I left early enough in the morn, I should make it in a day.
   Well here I am in this border town, reckon here is where I’ll stay.
It’s good to be back home again where the scorpions and rattlers play.
   They’re just a common site for us we see them every day.
I once had me an old snake nearly eight foot long, I taught him how to fetch.
  He must a been getting old cause he’d tire real quick of this game of catch.
One day I threw it out I guess a little too far.
   He got ran over , poor old thing was killed by a car.
             


Details | Free verse | |

Acceptable Food

Acceptable Food
The eye is never sure of his food so anyway they say there is limits to what a man 
can have they don’t want crumbly things so today I’m typing with a banana to 
illustrate the rules have never changed the popcorn made inside the theater box 
can be bought but never brought from home away with the poor boy bum that 
lives at home and carries some to theater to love. We want people to buy corn so 
salty that they cry for more and auction off the ranch to buy a coke so watered 
down to taste as to be tasteless to a boy who cannot afford them at the prices the 
RIALTO charges.
The syrup sticks to the sticking floor from a mop that never can be cleaned or 
handled wielded not with love but working now for money and decay and crud.
The popcorn that eye have is simply jaded lost in time.
The cokes have all gone flat. There is a clear limit to my love the eye is not like 
that. The banana is too green for the mee to eat just yet.  The word typing in this 
text was typed on the keyboard with a very hard and green banana thing. Accept.



Details | Rhyme | |

Home With A Migrane

Someone detach my head
It's been throbbing since I went to bed
Last one I got
The doc gave me a shot
"Now go home 
And go to bed"
I couldn't
I had a pain in the as--
And in the head
So, I'm at home today
Seeking silence that will never be
Throwing up in the toilet
And shivering like it's zero degrees
I'm not in the mood
To drop my pants down to my knees
Have another needle in my butt
The doctor might give it an extra squeeze