Chicken Cot UFO
It crossed the gloaming skies above the roofs,
in awe we followed then, its jazzy course;
mysterious would be the incensed spoofs
this ireful ship, upon us, would enforce.
..We said! Abominable was the ship
that traced its gaudy eights in air with hum;
predestined to avenge our ego trip,
atrocious poulets, would not succumb.
The chicken soldiers were a frightful troop
in pink-pistachio uniforms with spots,
that insolent, bombarded us with moop,
to hit our heads that were devoid of thoughts.
In order to placate the chicken troop,
some started to recite their verse to skies;
confronting that attacking chicken group,
- bird poems they opposed to battle cries.
The angry war-birds listened to the verse,
that was composed by stunned, exposed confreres,
their cackle was bemocking and adverse,
- upon their heads they wore rouge voluperes.
This myth reflected what would happen if
extraterrestrial cots invaded Earth,
relentless chicken-birds in martial tiff
would moop upon some artists of top worth.
© 12/11/2013, G. Venetopoulos
moop = Matter Out Of Place
I am winter's nemesis.I fight it tooth and nail.
In my youth it declared a war on me.
When I licked that icy rail.
Winter has many weapons to choose from.
Fear not for so do I.
A call my shovel Excali-burrr
My Ranger has four wheel drive
But winter's arsenal is no laughing matter
Icicles sent to impale, and black ice is its deadly device
But the human spirit is not that frail
I am winter's nemesis, and though it muffles all sound
This war is raging with bitter disdain.
My driveway the battle ground
I shall not relinquish my parking spot
to your mindless rabble of flakes
So bow to me you wretched season
For I shall never tire.
and my staunch ally will soon be spring
and together we will force a cease fire
For I am winter's nemesis
And these walls shall not be breached
Until my tour of duty is done
and I retire to Miami beach
Rolling through a bloody mess,
my master died alone no less.
His mercy was indeed a lie,
he said I lived but now will die.
His hand was swift with a mighty stroke,
within a thought my life was broke.
Oh how I lived, and he knew not,
but now I lay...my life to rot.
No foot, nor hand could move a limb,
Three days old and no sign of him.
And then he came at my wits end,
With strength alone I cant defend.
He lift me up and broke my jaw,
Just to laugh as I hit the floor.
He took a blade and made a fist,
stabbed his flesh, his vein, his wrist.
Now you're dead and now you're mine,
drink from me and you'll be fine.
I could not stand my masters site,
I killed him quick with my own bite.
There was an elusive little guy often espied during World War Two,
And who he was and whence he came no one ever really knew!
He was a bald headed little feller with a very prominent nose,
And he always left the message "Kilroy Was Here" in very stilted prose!
You seldom saw his eyes and his hands were clinging to a wall.
Many G.I.s saw him in latrine stalls and in their greasy dining hall!
His origin and parting message are debated to this very day,
And no one has ever nabbed the graffiti artists who always slunk away!
He was portrayed in cruisers, battleships and even on submarines!
Kilroy's portrait was tattooed on the chests of a few diehard Marines!
'Tis said Hitler saw "Kilroy Was Here" and wondered what it meant,
Thinking it a secret code when found on American accouterment!
Kilroy became as famous as the mysterious smile on the Mona Lisa.
(I even saw his mug when I climbed to the top of the Tower of Pisa!)
Rosie the Riveter may have been guilty, if the truth were told,
Of tracing Kilroy's image on bombers, including the bomb bay hold!
Well, 'tis for sure we couldn't have won the war without the little guy!
Kilroy's antics lifted morale at home and overseas, that you can't deny!
But you haven't seen the last of him, for he is forever etched in history,
On the World War Two Monument in DC - how he got there is a mystery!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
For those a tad younger who may have never heard of Kilroy, go to your search
and type in "Kilroy Was Here" and click the Wikipedia notation and you will learn
more than you ever wanted to know about him!
hell was other
wayward wit and
the green of life,
until the light
was left to right,
hell was other
fraught with that,
that we applaud,
aimless aims and
the truth in truth
we soon forgot,
hell was other
i dont care who you are
or what you think of me
build me up and break me down
then take your "stuff"* and flee
i hate you
you know it too
so bring it to my plate
take a point and hold my ground
to not spew all my hate
you were so nice in the beginning
well, what the "heck"* are you now?
gone, love, thats what you are
a filthy ugly cow
i am still the nice guy
lord, you have said so much worse
and still im here, i still get by
a blessing, not a curse.
i didnt snap hard enough to say what i meant
UFO - Hmm
It crossed the
gloaming skies above
in awe our eyes
pursued its jazzy
( mysterious would
be the incensed
this ireful ship,
upon us, would
Abominable was the
that traced its
gaudy eights in air
avenge our ego trip,
would not succumb.
The chicken soldiers
were a frightful
uniforms with spots,
bombarded us with
to hit our heads
that were devoid of
- The Alien ship was
rounded like the
each angry bird was
using a stun-gun,
the star of origin
of that platoon
and planet were most
certainly to shun. -
In order to placate
the chicken troop,
some started to
recite their verse
- bird poems they
opposed to battle
The angry war-birds
listened to the
that was composed by
their cackle was
- upon their heads
they wore rouge
This myth reflected
what would happen if
cots invaded Earth,
would moop upon some
artists of top
© G. Venetopoulos,
moop = Matter Out Of
Soon we all must enter the fray
And keep this injustice at bay
Thus said the major
Who tripped on the floor
Thus ending the war for that day
CSA General Bedford Forest
Mighty killing warrior
Would've won the war no jest
If his horses were survivors
Gen. Forest lost 30 horses during the civil war and killed more soldiers than any
other general. It could be said he was lucky or his horses were unfortunate.
I’m sure you’ve heard of the Great King Arthur and Lancelot’s well-known fame.
But there was yet another knight, of great glory and great fame, never named.
His name was whispered constantly, everywhere, around those hollowed halls.
For no one wanted to be near when he passed by, on his famous unerring walks.
A knight so very gallant, that he would bow to: every fashion of maiden, high or low.
So fierce his life could not be taken, no matter how sharp the blade, they did throw.
A musical quality followed him everywhere, and his livery was absolutely divine.
He would have been the perfect knight, except for one minor, itty bitty, tiny flaw…
What was his name, you may ask, and what led to such glory and illustrious fame?
He was Sir Dragon Sparkle Farts, and yes, you can guess, what earned him that name.
You see, an evil witch, he once did fight, and yes… he absolutely won, most verily.
But before the witch became undone, she sprinkled a curse upon his own, to be.
Whenever others are about, you guessed it, yet again; he had sparkle farts, my friend.
Do not laugh; he was to all, a dearest friend. Tho the trouble caused, was rampant, in the end.
You see, in that time the villages were all made with beautifully made, thatched roofs…
He flew betwixt and between, yet, an occasional spark now airborne, did veer off, poof!
So for the most part he walked in town, though the wheat fields were often, set off.
At least the castle was made of stone, though many a tapestry did not survive, well off.
Indeed, a water bucket brigade, became put at his disposal, simply all the time, amen!
And nobody did tickle him, for fames from both ends, became quite rampant then.
Laughter did, yes, the same… But hiccups brought utter flame throwing despair, to all.
Still he was a beloved knight, so the round table was set to keep his back, to the wall.
The knights all stuck together, thru thick and thin, and yes, even thru his sparkle farts.
But with great sadness: of why such a fierce warrior, could be forgot, I now impart.
You see, his name Sir Dragon Sparkle Farts, did not ring, minstrels romantic thoughts.
Historians, thought his references, just crude, forgettable laughable jokes, The Sots!
But know, when Camelot finally fell, and even he could not stop that inevitable tide.
He flew away, to the great blue North, they say, where with snow and ice, he abides.
Now, young and old, do not be sad… For the moral of this fable holds:
All he did was: for his friends and the Greater Good… He cared not for Glory or Gold.
Springtime fills the air,
like laughing gas.
(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
are starting to dance.
(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
Confused and intrigued,
with a slight urge to pee.
The father cuts grass,
like a sleepwalker.
(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
A six pack later,
he starts washing his car.
(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.
The mother kneels in dirt,
tending the garden.
(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty. (Figuratively, at least.)
A sunset later,
she cooks family dinner.
(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.
The son plays war games,
dying for fun.
(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
A full pitcher later,
tweaking on sugar,
(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.
The daughter makes a picnic,
inviting her toys.
(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
After the tea time,
she's off picking flowers.
(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)
They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."
(And proceed to stuff their face.)
The dog sits by the boy -
Loyal and true.
(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
he offers to help with the dishes.
(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite. The dog is not surprised.
Bedtime comes soon after.
The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
After tucking them in,
the parents watch TV.
(Or maybe they just dream they do,
sleeping in its glow.)
The dog is changing channels,
looking for a better show.
Confused and intrigued,
he pees on the carpet below.
Archie Bunker served in Italy during Dubya Dubya Two,
And was wounded by an enemy gun that was aimed, Oh! so true!
He won the Purple Heart and was reluctant to talk about his scar, but,
Meathead found great glee in reminding him that he was shot in the butt!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 1 in PDee's "Battle of the Clerihews # 2" Contest - February 2012
When pigs and monkeys roars
How a pig became a lion?
How , How a monkey roars?
That's when you stop saying NO
When the lions are here
When the lions onshore
Pigs will be pigs
A monkey will stand for
A monkey , no less , no more
you can't win a war in Afghanistan
ask the Russians and A Mer I Cans,
if they can't do it, than no-one can
Watch out!....The War in Afghanistan
full of Al-Qaeda and Taliban
opium poppies throughout the land,
a big paycheck for Afghanistan,
Watch out!... for The War in Afghanistan.
In the still of night, before he took flight,
Navy Seals dropped by, Bin Laden must die......
it's time that we leave Afghanistan,
We've kicked the Taliban in the Can
no need for us to lose Servicemen
Watch out !... for The War in Afghanistan....
let's leave, get out of Afghanistan...
No more........War in Afghanistan...........
Please, sir, some meat and bread
I've not had a morsel for a week
It would stop this terrible hunger
My prospects now are terribly bleak
It's said the Earl is tender hearted
And oh so bloody awful rich
If I could have a taste of his
I'd call the thing a Sandwich
I hate to just come a beggin'
But I'm so hungry I am seeing red
Won't you ask the Earl again
Please, sir, some meat and bread.......
For Joe's Sandwich contest...lol
What flies though the air up above
Disguised as a peace seeking dove
For those who've not heard
Drones can send you the bird
From the land of brotherly love
Author's note: Is this really how to win friends and influence people (for the long term)?
As I'm lying on your pillow here
I pray for God to watch over you each night
And help guide you through your daily plights
I can hear sounds of wispiring winds
And see through window's pane a mighty stars spin
Just knowing your battling on foreign soil
Over someone else's turmoils
Makes me just love you that much more
But please hurry home hun to finish your own dam choirs
Tribute To Our Troops And Loved Ones
God Bless U.S.A.
Also Entry For Brian Strand's
My Dear Contest
Take me there
I don't care
Touch my hair
Eat this pear!!!
I am bare
Want to share?
Do you care?
I am bear
I'll let you stare
Don't go there
By the chair
Or on that stair?
Your skin is fair
You look like Cher
Come to my lair
But pay my fare
Drippity drip drip
I'd thought I found eternal rest
cold hands folded, still, on my chest
but I hear echoes from the past
the trumpet's sound, fierce bugle blast
Coming alert, I look around
burst out laughing, see the sound
source - back to sleep with merry wave
at geese, goose-stepping on my grave ....
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Bazookas In The Bed
We have a mosquito problem
It’s in our house. It never ends
There’s nothing we can do but shoot them
Then shoot them over and over again
You see…You understand…They’re not our friends
Potions, tonics, sprays all make them happy
It gives them strength to multiply
We’re looking to make their lives less comfy
Less pleasant less satisfied
It’s not from animus or hate
Shells and ammo is the case. It’s simply fate
And to that end
I stay up late at night and wait
7 bazookas by my side and sights are ready
And from my bed in the deepest dark
I fire at will! I fire straight!
The idea is not to simply kill them
Though that would be so very great
But to make them really really dead
With bazooka fire power from my bed
John J. Rambo
Hurt, but even more puzzled I’m
Sir, do we get to win this time?
I bought a burger yesterday
It was very dry like the seagull bay
I pilled a lot of ketchup on it
and still dry it remained
I was very dissappointed
as i look at the dry damned thing
I ran to the toilet
and let out a HUGE
As chunks of the dry burger fell out of my pie hole
Landing into the toilet
Making dookie plop noizes
A battle rages
between beans and broccoli.
Sadly, no winner
emerges from this dark fog.
Perhaps I will blame the dog.
"My Big Brother" up and down the street
He could be anyone you meet
Spying on you from the street
Looking in from every beat
"My Big Brother" isn't that sweet
"My Big Brother" and I don't know why
Casting in from above the sky
"My Big Brother" the commie spy
Listening in do or die
Bringing his book in
My Big Brother, 1-800-LET-US IN
Caught with paper and a pen
All because, "My Big Brother" let himself in
Over the horizon is heard the sputtering engine of an unusual bird.
Trailing a billowing plume of smoke, it looked so pathetically absurd!
Coming into view was an old Curtiss Jenny of World War One fame.
Used only as a trainer, faster, more stable planes put it to shame!
The dashing young pilot buzzed the field and waved to the crowd.
Distraught moms covered the ears of their kids to ease the din so loud!
He did a barrel roll and a loop and people thought the man insane!
He made a wobbly landing, alit, gazing about with haughty disdain!
Doffing his goggles, his oil-stained face looked like that of a raccoon.
The handsome interloper caused young ladies to gasp and swoon.
He smiled a smile that would light up the night and gallantly salutes!
He's so striking in his breeches, helmet, leather jacket and shiny boots!
He grandly announced, "For five bucks I'll take you for a ride,
In good old faithful Jenny here, my joy and my pride!
Now don't be shy, step right up! How about you there, Dad?
Let me give the thrill of a lifetime to that there young lad!"
The young fellow with his Ma and Pa did earnestly plead.
Ma and Pa argued about it and Ma tearfully agreed.
That flight sparked a burning flame in the soul of that young boy!
He became a World War Two fighter ace much to his parent's joy!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
They do not move a muscle
Nor give unto their fears
But contemplate their carnage
Have you even not, one tear
Had I known you like I do now
You wicked callous beast
I never would have shown you
That my heart was in your reach
When the first drop of precious blood
Impacts upon this ground
I swear I’ll not forgive you
And by the Gods I’ll strike you down
But could we not turn, this tide
And you and I once more
Find the love sent from about
And do, as we adore
NO, cause you insist to make my wish
Lie broken on the floor
And wear a glove while touching love
Just like a filthy whore
Don’t think the Gods won’t notice
You’re defiled and you’re sick
By using love to hide behind
To pull this dirty trick
Ah, to one trick there’s another
And I possess my share
Be patience and I’ll show you
What can happen to your lair
With cunning and with cruelty
My counsel will evoke
A very cunning plan
That would make Poseidon choke
I will converse, with Apollo
To have the sun replace the moon
So therefore catch a tan
If it’s possible, by noon
Then I’ll call on my Seamstress
To sew me something smart
With these hand made silver boots
This is Fashion’s off the charts
Of course all my solders
Will be dressed up in their best
Tunics will be optional
And so might the rest
We will decorate the beach
With a bonfire and some torches
So the enemy can watch
While they’re lounging on their porches
Send a ship down to the tropics
I think seafood would be nice
And one up to the artic
To fetch all some ice
I know some Greek dancing songs
We’ll get the band to play
And I’ll maybe sing a solo
To melt, their hearts away
Cause no one, but no one
Puts a party on like me
And makes the end to every war
A spectacle to see
When things start dieing down
Very late at night
We all crawl to our ships
And we’ll put out the lights
We give them the impression
We’re all drunk and going home
This should make them feel relieved
That we’re leaving them alone
But that is when we pull
The oldest trick, found in the book
With a sinister contraption
This deception’s off the hook
To Be Continued.................
I was born in Babylon
Everyday I want to be alone
I prayed not to get low
Everyday Babylon claim more soul
I just have to go, seek for more show
I grow with no shoes under my foots
Ganger is my food,
Mosquitoes sing the reggae allover my room
Webs block my views, killing my crews
What can I do to survive when am buzz
Where is that place to get crazy?
That place you cannot erase,
That camp with more space,
Where you don’t have to get late
That place where you just want to be free from
“Babylon” Babylon” Babylon…I want to be free
If there is a question, it should be about relation
My action will generate your reaction
Is substitution the way to be free from Babylon?
The game is always ON, grow horns like Capricorn
Cut the vegetables; let’s be able to be stable
I do not know?
What Did The 3 Legged Dog Say To The 2 Legged Cat?
What an amazing thing to see by any eye. Two creatures on there way home, spoke as
if they were from a war zone.
All though both were missing parts, they had tremendous heart. Cat, what do they call
you? My friends call me 2 Blue.
Dog, what do they call you? My friends call me 3 paws. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
Same here 2Blue.
Are you curious? Everybody I meet seems to be. Not really 2 Blue. What rights have I,
to say whose whole? Looks to me like you have plenty of soul.
Thank you 3 Paws; I would imagine you are quite a dog, with lots of heart and plenty of
So, 2 Blue, what’s up? Seen any action lately? Not since the alley fight in 2002, when my
back was against the wall, and I took a heavy fall.
What about you 3 Paw? What’s your story? Well, it’s a lone one, but I like to keep it
short. I was in the dark in 2007, sniffing like I normally do, when guess who? Right! The
Rockwilder Brothers jumped me.
While running, I slipped on some ice, and they weren’t nice with there bites
I agree, we all learned our lessons in life. Something’s are good, and some aren’t so
3 Paw, see you around. 2 Blue, I’ll be in town.
I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.
Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone
No one can feel my pain and sorrow
As I hide inside of my burrow.
Shadows consume my body and soul
As I embrace the misty cold.
The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.
This life and existence’s of my own choice
And I choose not to have a voice.
I am silent. Invisible. Inexistent.
Yet I am invincible, an immortal being
“War is Hell”, it once was said,
Its ravages will sicken.
Doves, to some, are signs of peace;
To some, they taste like chicken.
They speak like politicians
And hold a great ambition.
They think they are right
And same speech they recite.
They always gather for a bite
Deciding who should start the fight.
All have their own stations
To be the victims of cremation.
They gather their own crowd
Who cheer and clap to any sound.
They think they are right
Only here for a bite.
They speak like Aristo
And act like Montecristo!
They smoke big cigars
And all drive tinted cars.
They dress in glitter
And all have Twitter.
They act so polite
But hardly can write.
Always in action
Only during the election.
To make a collection
Or a connection.
O What a time you feel like
Committing a crime.
For a brief background about this poem, pls, read the poem (Beirut).
People smoke weed, or crack to ignore problems and laugh hysterically,
coffee is my drug, it's my quick pick-me-up...I say it so proudly,
because it won't harm me, hallucinate me or make me feel afraid;
I will be alive tomorrow, not crash into into a lamppost as Freddy did.
I lived through the Hippie Era: bell-bottoms...long, frizzy hair
and funny clothes the kind that clowns wear,
no offense to those who thought they were cool;
it's my opinion, not of that guy who didn't see himself as a fool!
I had no time to protest, or vindicate the Vietnam War as Omar;
off I went to work each morning as hippies hung out by a bar
shouting at me, " Kid, stay alive...don't ever go to war! "
They ran and screamed, knocking down police barricades...horror!
Half price sale, half price sale’
Half price sale today.
Into the town centre on a bus
Rode those to be plundered.
Forward the crowd as it swayed
“Charge on your card! The cry
Into the town centre to shop
Rode those to be plundered
Shoppers to the right of them
Shoppers to the left of them
Shoppers all in front of them
Brolly and handbag drawn, at bargains
Storming the shelves they yelled
On to the tills they fell
Into the jaws of debt
Into the hardest sell
Charged those that were plundered
Where are the deals they made?
Oh how they did some trade
All the town wondered
Would bill’s ever be paid
In the homes of those
That were plundered.
Charlie Milne 2008
Thank you and sorry, Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892),
A great poet from a time of the greatest poets.
Spring, 1945, German troops in his town were walking about not
carrying arms, they spoke to the locals in a friendly manner.
Looking back it was peace before the peace. Near Broremann's home
there was a tall house occupied by old non- commissioned officers,
middle-aged men in their thirties with children, gave the kids
chocolate and sweets (after the war the building was taken over by
British troops arrived, put a canteen in a disused fish factory,
the German troops had surrendered. Broremann got white bread
with spam from the British. The Germans left by train; many
of the town´s people came to wave goodbye, there was no
dislike against the common soldiers, wrath was directed at the
local Gestapo who had betrayed their country by being crueler
than the enemy and by sporting rimless Himmler glasses.
Years later Broremann met a docker in Hamburg who had spent
five war years in his town. They drank together and declared
it had been a peaceful war.
(Based on a true story)
Two girls got in a fight
One punched left the other punched right
And everyone was cheering FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
Yes, everyone was watching and cheering them on
So on they went scratching and hitting, but everyone knew who was winning
It was the maddest one bringing her down, because when she turned around her pony tail was on the ground
She had pulled out the others girls weave, and when she did everyone screamed
But by this time the fight had to be stopped
So guess who walked in...yep a cop
And I will stop here I will say no more for I fear the fight has not ended here, cause their blood is hot and their hearts are cold
When will they fight again? nobody knows but that's all I can say cause I'm locked away without a doubt and they wont let me out
OPERATION FREEDOM-NO OSCAR NOMINATION
Sex is best
Coach potatoes rest
Our attention best.
Next I guess
The threat of
Even the whore
of the war
Our whore war boar?
On tropical islands
Of whom will marry
Mr. Billion Trillion carpenter
have let me, well…
This shock and awe
A critical disappointment for me.
Sorry no Oscar nomination shall there be.
Not from me
You shall see.
Try some more
Trying in vain
To entertain me.
I guess the idea is ludicrous,
bizarre, and truely mad
for me to want to build
my house atop a launching pad!
my luck, I'd be watching Merv Griffin
while below me lay more MIRV's
for some ridiculous reason
these idiot's would then declare it War!!!
I suppose you can well guess
what just then, I had in store
to reach above the highest clouds
and then climb and climb some more
above the needle nosed nose-cone
beneath me the rocket's roar
well, I suppose there's worse
ways to go
although what they might be,
I sure as hel_ don't know.
A mothers gift ,
Generally at Christmas .
Easiest option which I hope she will like .
( Eau De Kelly) Fragrance for older ladies , who do remember ...
I have just "invented "this new form of poetry .
As you can see it is the 4~7~11 .
First line has 4 syllables , next 7 and the last has 11 .
And , if you think it stinks......... yes it probably does......
All rights are reserved ( and a few lefts).
I'm lean, I'm mean, I'm tough as nails
Nothing could frighten me
I'm ready to defend my turf
as you can plainly see
Ju-Jitsu man, master of knife and sword,
Can shoot an eye out at a mile...
No fool would be so foolish
as to dare challenge me...
You see before he'd even know it,
I'd break his stupid knee
No Superman or Batman
Would dare to take on me
But, well, Mighty Mouse, that's another story,
Which leads us to our yarn..
But first let me emphasize
I am mighty, mighty macho
I'll never suffer hurt
I'm such a mighty he-man,
Even when I wear a skirt!
As Ive shown, I've always rules
My kingdom is my house
Until one winter's day
When I was attacked by a tiny mouse!
He scurried out from beneath the sink
and caught me by surprise,
That dastardly little bully!!
Just what did he thinK?
I saw bloodthirsty menace in his eyes..
I jumped up on the table
knew not if i should have fled
The frightful thought then came to me
What if now he's in my bed??
So I shored up my fading courage
Went to enroll in Mouse Martial Arts
I'll get that little bast_rd..
Before he terrifies more hearts
So when i graduated,
back to home I went
Helmet,armor, side-arms, baseball bat,
and mace and gas-mask too...
I knew I was now prepared,
For whatever he may do!
I searched the house that evening,
But find him i could not...
Now worried he went for friends...
that evil little snot!!
500 mose-traps I then set
Comforted, so off to bed I went
Woke up from a bad mouse-dream,
in the middle of the night,
To the bathroom i had to go
My bladder told me so,
Now if you can imagine
Being caught in 50 traps
Then you may envision
What was about to elapse...
Oww!Oww!Oww!, Oh, Mercy Me! is what I cried!
As mouse traps snapped right and left
My poor old bludgeoned feet!
Paid the price for my stupidity
And not being at all too deft!
I pee'd myself in pain,
It flowed from me like rain!
Luckily in spite of many a hurtful trap,
my pants I did not crap!
So let this be a lesson,
If a mouse wants to live with you,
Just choke down on your pride...
"Cause there's nothing you can do!!!
Hope has flown into my closet
He won’t come out
No matter how much I beg
“I need reassurance
That my work will be done on time
And that I’ll have hours spare to tidy my bed
The thermostat is jammed,
The bathroom has flooded
The cooker is all out of gas
Ants have invaded my bedroom
My siblings are fighting on the lawn
The market has stopped stocking coffee
And I just cannot take anymore!”
And Hope replied
With a flutter of his wings
And a sparkling glint in his eye
“Stop bothering me
And bloody sort it out yourself!”
He led his fleet,
Into battle sweet,
Said,"Damn the torpedoes!
Full speed ahead!!!"
Now he is very dead.
Rich people can afford to live lavishly,
squandenring money like it werent a commodity;
ordinary folks must make ends meet,
even worrying about the food they eat!
Wealth moguls like Trump or Gates
can purchase the Empire State Building,
and see their names in the Entrepreneur or Money magazine...
while we dispute those outrageous credit card rates!
Since Caesar imposed taxes on the Roman Empire,
freedom to spend,at will, has been reduced by desire;
now Uncle Sam is the new emperor demanding his tribute,
woe to us if we declared ourselves immune!
Republicans and Democrats are divided on one issue:
the Iraq's war on terrorism and its credibility not so true;
while Bush's voice echoes throughout the White House' walls..
a President's courage shown in formidable ways!
The music and art world are giving in frivolity,
creating works that are insignificant and full of obscenity;
can the Human Race excel as it did yesterday...
who will step forward and stop all this insanity?
Living lavishly is only shared by the lucky ones
who are defined by abundance and inheritance,
but living sparingly is based on sacrifice and endurance...
learning those thrifty tactics and live within limits!
I do not know?
Nothing rhymes with llama
Nothing rhymes with lava
HEY! Llama and lava rhyme
I guess I knew that the whole time
When I see a llama, I shout
But when I see it not burning in lava, I pout
Ok, so that's not true
But I'm sitting here quietly with nothing to do......
I just realized that I've never seen a llama in the zoo.
I'm really starting to hate llamas now
I really wish they would all burn in lava
Still not true....
Still with nothing better to do...
Self-propelled she was
Protective aromatic defenses
Kept away any intended offenses
She filled a room alone
And usually she emptied them
But she was a good girl to the bone,
And enlisted in the Army elite
The "creme de' creme"
Put her on the front line,
Turn her back to the enemy,
Screaming, terrified, running,
That's all of them you'd see.
years ago a friend
upon refurnishing her home,
gave to us a sofa and some rugs
what she didn't tell us then
that she included in this some bugs!!
seems her pets had a flea problem,
as now I well did too
I despise all the world's insects
that's something that is true,
but now I was confronted
just what was I to do??
well, ol' tom soon had his battle plan
and off to war I went
with goggles, gloves, nose mask
all ports closed, ne'ery a single vent
I stiffened up resolve, now to start my task
flea bombs I did explode,
the noctuous fumes engulfed the room
I hoped that that would mean
the fleadom's quick, and wonderful doom
well, it did work in the end,
but I did it twice to be sure
then laundered everything in there
I seemed to have had the cure
no more itchy bites and
to torture me all, all night
my room returned to me,
as was my legal right
so use caution when
receiving second hand
it may have more aboard
than you expect
and you don't need all
but if you should be the next
to have your own flea circus
me, I'd prefer tigers, 2 to 1
than fight off minute pests
and now you know my friend
just how I got it done
I hate my door,
I hate a knock...
All I get is shock
This time it was ten,
Eager vacuum salesmen,
With ready pen...
Painted on smile...
To go the extra mile...
Another sales commission,
Be at the next company
Before they caught on,
Where he'd gone...
Now I was in no mood
For vacs, or knocks,
Or heart felt sales remonstrations....
I opened it up,
Baseball bat in hand...
How many would one swing
Send into the stand?
Ten nervous giggles,
Ten vacs held up in defense...
"Over the fence!"
I've learned to hate washers
I don't mean the kind
With nuts and bolts and stuff...
I mean the clothes cleaning kind..
They've got me foaming at the mouth!!!
I'm about to lose my friggin' mind!!!
They either spit out soapy water
To puddle up my floor
Or they can get
far more sinister...
Oh yes, they're capable of more!
Just now I have a small complaint,
I guess it won't kill me...
But my rinse cycle will not work
And why that should be,
So smart to know I ain't!
And I'm tired, as you can see...
These soap flaked clothes
Do itch and rash,
Bring upon my skin
i get so friggen' frustrated..
And I know it is a sin,
But one more time it does that
I'll drop a handgrenade in!
If someone wrongs you...
Is cruel and clueless...
And you want to get even...
Wait till they're shoeless...
And hand them a pair
Of shiny plastic shoes,
You can't buy one,
They only come in twos...
Then take them upstate,
On a non-returnable
Set them up with a bedmate,
Young and alluring...
While acting assuring....
Give them a bed,
And leave them alone...
Call all your friends,
Quietly on the phone...
And let them know
What a fool you made,
By acting a shoe giving friend,
And watch their pride fade...
Ma cowboys un me been ponderin a way
Tryin ta figgers ur chores fer tha day
We thunk, un we thunk, finally Jimbo sez
"Times cum fer us ta chooze sum ones ta tags"
Nows who ut cud be's air 'nother thin.
We's paces tha floor er work went undid
"Jist who's kin ut be's" asks Billy tha kid
Tha hawks thay war circlin', Tha buzzards war too
Wonderin what ut war wrong with er crew
Jist bafor Cookie tha chuck bell did gong
I's finalies figgers oot what war wrong.
We's ain't never been oot un pub-lik much
So's I's takes oot my lariat an gives er a toss
Ut lans round Samuel, I's sez "youse tha boss
Ut air up ta youse what one we's does picks"
He ponders a spell, than cums oot un sez
"Whatch thinks bout er frien, Carol Brown."
I's sez "Doggies that air tha one"
"Gal frien we's loves ya"
Carol Brown --youse jist been tagged.
They came from
the Andromeda galaxy,
2 million light years away
A very alien race,
Out for conquest,
And they chose
our lovely place...
They featured antenna ears,
And spider-like limb,
This scary looking race,
With a fly-like face...
And like the fly,
Their genetic desire,
For sugar and such,
It'd be one being,
You'd never touch...
Like the fly,
They loved their sweets,
And came to our galaxy...
To check out the eats...
It looks as though our future's grim,
Even though we live on the galactic rim
Seems soon will come...
our final day...
They came here because,
They heard it was...
The Milky Way.
I'm pissed off,
Cause someone pissed in,
My breakfast cereal...
Just one spoonful,
I'd be a fool...
Not for me....
I may have pissed someone off,
But colors I still see...
Wait a minute,
When I was out....
Did the Bad Girls Club,
Stop by?....No doubt....
They're "pissed off"
About my poem about their show...
As far as I'm concerned,
That show must go...
No more untended meals,
Refrigerator I'll lock...
Hermatically sealed kitchen,
Around the clock,
I'll post guards,
If I must,
To keep them out,
I'll have to trust,
That in the end,
I wont find out,
One is a boyfriend.