Charmaine passed me the ball and I don't know what to do with iT
Holy cow! Now, I should transfer the tag until John gets mad, sO
Another tag, while James is still in The Somerset ZodiaC
Restore the ball, erase those codes, don't trace the lines of NazcA
Mysteries, enigmas, forget the Druids, the MinotauR
All the pyramids, the Count, the King, and old RongorongO
Icemen, Amazons and Vikings, leave the day the Sun Stood StilL
Nothing about Mayans'rise and fall, catch the ball, bounce it, plaY
Endorsed you are, my dear blonde, hit the ball, and play agaiN
- I am brave and big boy
- Can I go camping
- Adrian my smallest grandchild
- I can do it myself
- Where are you going
- Not very far
- In the garden at great grandmother
- Great grandmother is dead my little friend
- Yes, I know
- The place that she has her gravestone
there will I set up my tent
- At night, I would tell her that I still miss her
- A true small story ....... Children have many beautiful thoughts and question
- However, there became no camping
A-L Andresen :)
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 !
Said contrary and crabby Miss Muffet
“Hey eight-legs! Kiss my bare Tuffet!”
From above and beyond, Charlotte dropped a fine line
And bit the old bag where the sun doesn’t shine…
For Andrea’s clerihew contest
You can't tell me that you didn't see this coming.
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, can you spare a minute?
I know that you help apes in trouble and I am knee deep in it.
I have a girl I’ll call Mary Beth, she’s the banana of my eye,
But I found out that she’s been seen swinging with another guy.
I could accept it if it were another ape but this guy is a human man,
I’ve asked around and in the jungle he calls himself Tarzan.
I’ve been working my way up in hopes of one day leading the troupe,
Until now I’m finally the most respected challenger in the group.
I think that I might be alpha worthy, I hope so, but here’s the thing
Everyone in the whole dang jungle now refers to him as king.
Dear Alpha male wannabe, are you saying that you know Tarzan?
If you know where he’ll be on Saturday night, I think I have a plan.
I know that you want her back and I’m sure that your girl is sweet,
But only I can do the things that will make his life complete.
You see he and I have dated before and I know what makes him fall,
I can do something special for him that’s how he got his jungle call.
Once we’re back together he won’t remember your girl’s name,
Then you can be her hero and free her from this shame.
And as for me and Tarzan, well you’d better stick a banana in your ear,
Because the screaming sounds of the king are the only sounds you’ll hear.
Little Miss Poet, Sat at her computer, typing the morning away.
Along came a spider, climbed down her screen, and frightened Miss Poet away.
Little Miss Poet, fell on her duff, as she tripped, backwards over the dog.
When she got up, the spider was smart, and ran into the keyboard.
Low and behold, the fly swatter wouldn’t work, for the spider was safely below.
The spider peaked out, eyeing her as if in a huff, as Miss Poet jumped up and down.
With murderous intent, she flipped over the keyboard, and bounced it up and down.
Just at this point, the spider jumped out and scurried, with his life in his hands.
But the damage was done, the keyboard was unplugged, and terror reigned again.
Little Miss Poet, would have to crawl under the desk, to where the wires began.
There was no doubt, she’d switch to wireless now, but here that was a mute point.
She knew the spider was there, but hidden somewhere, in the stuff on top of her desk.
Little Miss Poet, crawled under the desk, checking and fixing, every wire and plug.
When she came out, there was no spider about, so both relief and worry set in.
As Little Miss Poet, looked down and around, the spider appeared on her arm.
With a scream and a jump, she flicked him off, and tripped over her chair this time.
Unfortunately for this one, the problem wasn’t done, so she attacked jumping forth.
The spider jumped free, but her toe was in need, as her foot connected with the desk.
A few words were uttered, as she jumped around, with foot held high in the air.
Broken toe or not, she vowed to get that snot, so she shouted for her hubby’s help.
He was down stairs, with the trolls you know, and couldn’t seem to come up.
So she swatted with flair, as the spider jumped back, yes, into the keyboard.
At that moment, a Troll walked by with a club , and decided to help her out.
Everything smashed, the problem solved, she sat down at her sons’ computer spot.
Tears in her eyes, at her computers demise, Poor Little Miss Poet, began to write.
This computer was next, to the one from before, and the spider was there, again!
Yep, you guessed, in the keyboard he sat, staring and more pissed than ever before.
The moral my friend, is that you can’t always win, even on a peaceful, beautiful morn.
Little Miss Poet, finally limped away, retreat was the better answer, by far.
PS. This happened, without the Troll, of course.
Old Mother Goose
Frankly speaking was rather loose
The neighborhood was shocked and all in a dander
When she had a short affair with a well-feathered Gander
Which caused Jack and Jill
To take a tumble down the hill
Poor Jill lost her drawers and good gracious alive!
Little Jack got a rise in his tattered Levis...
< once there was a boss we called miss priss
like to give orders with snap of wrist
file fax make coffee
phones radio golly
when not looking I blow her big hiss
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I’m in need of your advice,
My boyfriend is a swinger and he isn’t very nice.
I’m a Proboscis Monkey so I exhibit a very prominent schnoz.
And the proposition that he put to me caused me to take pause.
He said that I’d make a perfect mate if I’d under go a tweak,
He wants me to go under the knife and get a larger beak.
But the nose that I was born with is my pride and joy,
And I really don’t want to change it especially for a boy.
He tells me that he loves me and that he’d immediately propose,
If only I would agree to see a doctor and get a bigger nose.
My Dear Gentle Nosey Nelly here’s the reply to your query,
I’m afraid that your boyfriend doesn’t see you very clearly.
If he did I am sure that he would see you as more than just a nose,
There is much more to a woman than the parts that she’ll expose.
So if he hasn’t figured out that what’s important is your heart,
Don’t let yourself be persuaded by him to change your body part.
Unless altering your looks will somehow bring you satisfaction,
Because his view of perfection is nothing more than an abstraction.
Be happy with who you are, a proud Proboscis monkey,
Just make sure whatever you do you don’t let yourself get chunky.
Mona Lisa, the lady I greatly adore
See her sophisticated beauty I implore
Put her portrait not in a large frame, but thin
She will surely give to you all her sourest grin
Written: Oct. 7, 2012
Contest: Seeking A Fresh Crop of Clerihews
Poet Sponsor: Andrea Deitrich
Dear Miss Monkey Manners: I’m a Spider Monkey in need of your help,
Recently someone yanked my tail and I cried out with a yelp.
It may seem like a little thing to cry when someone pulls your tail,
Unless, of course, it’s mating season and you’re the alpha male.
All of the sudden this younger guy is getting more looks than me,
And there’s a lot of chatter going on all around the banana tree.
I recently overheard some talk about putting me out to pasture,
But with all the Jaguars around this place, a pasture would be disaster.
So tell me is there a way that I can continue to have fun?
Please send your answer right away before setting sun.
My poor, dear Spider friend, please take time tonight to watch the setting sun,
Then apply that sight to your alphaness and grab your prehensile tail and run.
Remember to keep the memories of all the girls you’ve had,
But perhaps it’s best to move along because what happens next is bad.
There will be a challenger who will have impressively aggressive displays
And he will not give a banana flip about stories of your glory days.
So let the girls remember you the way you used to be,
Instead of getting humiliated for all of the world to see.
Go find yourself a lonely tree because that where you belong now,
And if you think that life’s unfair, it’s better than being Jaguar chow.
I thought of you again today
It seems your memory gets in my way
I try to forget but I only got regrets
I thought of you again today
Outside it's sunny but I feel funny
I'm cold and blue
So cold cold so so blue
Just can't stop thinking of you
Trying to get a bite to eat
End up ordering your favorite treat
Now I lost my appetite
I'm just not right.
When will this end
I thought of you again
Trying to sleep at night
But I'm wound up to tight
What's wrong with me
Why do I cling to thee
I need to sleep but when? when? when?
I keep thinking of you again and again
Out with my new girlfriend
The date ends before it begins
I must be insane
Calling her your name
I thought of you again and again and again
I thought of you again
Thinking of what to say at your door
Before I can leave you open your door
You look at me and smile
Invite me to stay awhile
You ask should we try again
As I kiss you, how I missed you
I will never ever leave you again
As I love you, again and again.
Once, something we took for granted
Now gone, forever to be mourned.
My source of awesome anime has been transplanted.
Cartoon Network, you face an enemy scorned!
Though it's been so long I still miss it. RIP Tom.
David Michael Letterman
Late Show made us grin
We'll miss all your humor
But mostly the Top Ten!
“Miss Otis Regrets she’s unable To Lunch Today”
He tried to dance a tango; but she preferred a waltz;
He served a new fandango; but she cures her meats in salts.
When the lady got her stockings; in some kind of bunch;
The fellow took them off for her; and served them up for lunch.
So he rolled it in a wrapper; something made of corn;
It was very neat and dapper; thus a Southwest dish was born.
Did the fellow get too quip; and the lady took an issue;
And the man was troubled at the toilet; because there was no tissue.
When her nose got out of joint; conversations were a mess;
So he suggested that they stop; and give that crap a rest.
He said I’ll see you latter; she asked him to hang on;
She reminded him of Dark Vader; when just like that was gone.
Perhaps he lacks respect; maybe she’s too pent;
Maybe he’s to brazen; perhaps she likes to vent.
It was such a load of do-do and it smelled like methane gas;
I guess that’s how it goes my friends; when youngsters have such sass.
Miss says hello,
her favourite colour is yellow ,
Miss wears a hat ,
looking like a cat .
Miss goes pink ,
wearing high heals ,
Miss wears pink ,
its time for her meal .
Miss love shopping ,
and just hates mopping ,
Miss loves red ,
and her heals are made of lead ..... :-)
FOR 'JUST THAT ARCHAIC POET'S' CONTEST - PUT YOUR BEST RHYME FORWARD !!
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I hope that you can solve a problem for an old baboon,
I’ve said some things to a dear friend of mine and it makes me feel like I’m a buffoon.
I said that, “God created Charles Darwin because he was so disappointed in monkeys.”
How was I to know when I spoke that he and Darwin’s uncle were at one time bunkies?
I only meant it as a passing humor aimed at pointing out our man like flaws,
I didn’t know that this friend and Charles Darwin shared the same grandpas?
Anyway, now he’s mad at me and called me a bigot so now I need a plan,
I want to show him, that except for their smell, there’s nothing I hold against man?
But if he doesn’t get over it pretty quickly and take that chimp from off his shoulder,
I’m going to get sick of his blue butt attitude and kick him in his banana holder.
My Dear and Gentle Monkey “Man”, I think that the time has come for action,
A stinging shot to his low land region might give us both great satisfaction.
This baboon friend of yours is a member of a new and obnoxious breed,
We must be rid of him and his ilk before political correctness plants a seed.
When the time comes that we can’t make a joke about how man came from we apes,
Is the same time that a never ending stream of flying monkeys from my butt escapes.
Don’t you dare offer up a single syllable of a word aimed at reconciliation.
To make a slam of the works of man is the hallmark of simian civilization.
Instead, the next time you see a group of men walking through your forest setting,
Dare your misguided chum to go up and talk to them, he’ll swing away I’m betting.
There is only one thing more distasteful to me than the babblings of a liberal Baboon,
And that’s one who, when forced to face his own convictions, babbles a different tune.
Wrinkles deepening with the fleeting years
Show worry and sadness and nothing to come.
Her starry eyed plans are now in arrears
And gone is the look of delicious aplomb.
Her world-class body brought whistles and cheers
Now hid under muumuus to old age succumb.
She works on her tan on manicured lawn
Dreaming of pageants until she is gone.
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I am writing to you for guidance if you please,
I’m seeing a Howler Monkey who likes it when I’m on the stage doing my striptease.
I can’t say that he’s not exuberant or that I feel unappreciated,
But when he yells it will scare the pants right off of the uninitiated.
If I’m up in the spotlight, doing the bump and grind or swinging from a pole,
There’s a deafening howl and everyone drops their pants before I reach my goal.
My boss would like it if my clothes came off Instead of those who watch me work.
I’m afraid that he’ll tell my boyfriend to quiet down and then he’ll go berserk.
I know that I’ll never do my best unless he’s there to watch me on the stage,
How can I tell him to quiet down without hearing his howls of rage?
Dear Gentle Reader, you may not know it but I’ve had some experience with peeling.
When I used to come on stage to do my act the apes would stack up to the ceiling.
I would hit the light dressed as a banana and invite them each to tug on my peel,
I’d love to hear them all as they each gave out with a delighted simian squeal.
One night while I was doing the act and about to land a banana split,
I heard a yell from a Howler Monkey coming from the orchestra pit.
His screams of joy were so sincere that I married him the very next day,
My advice to you is to do the same and leave your boss nothing more to say.
And if you keep your job doing the strip or end up writing a column like this,
Trust me when I tell you that you’ll never get tired of hearing his howls of bliss.
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I am writing to you out of desperation,
It seems that I may have a problem with excessive perspiration.
As a lowland gorilla I live in regions of extreme heat and humidity,
And my sweating has become a joke to those steeped in stupidity.
I’ve tried to explain that it is a matter of the metabolism of my body,
And that it has nothing to do with what it is that I do for a hobby.
I’m a poker playing silver back and enjoy a game with friends sometimes,
But I do not enjoy their taunting or their silly nursery rhymes.
Poor old Morris Letts.
The more he bets, the more he sweats
The more he sweats the more he frets,
The more he frets the wetter he gets.
Poor old Morris Letts.
If they don’t stop their teasing I’m afraid I’ll rip out their stuffing,
If you want to see me work up a sweat just try and see if I am bluffing.
My Dear Morris Letts, I can tell from your letter that you are in some pain,
Please do your best to calm down. I don’t want to see you leave a stain.
To the best of my consideration you have three options that you might follow,
First you can rip the stuffing out of your friends until you leave them hollow.
Next you might move to a place where you’ll find the climate much more pleasant,
Or third, pry open that wallet of yours and buy yourself some antiperspirant.
The last option is by far the least exertion but roll-ons clog easily with hair,
And if you moved to another town who would you play cards with there?
This leaves you only one viable option so unless your veins run with sarsaparilla,
Go tear someone a new one because you are a sweaty silver backed gorilla!!
If you are half the ape that I think you are there’s no need for you to blush,
Just stick their heads in the toilet bowl and give them a royal flush.
I say, when the chimps are down fall back on what it is that you know the best,
So when the deck is stacked against you, roar and beat your gorilla chest.
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, please help me if you can,
I’m having trouble with my fiancé and the “you know what” has hit the fan.
I am a reasonable chimpanzee and I have ambitions for my life,
One of the dreams that I hold most dear is to one day get a wife.
But my work in TV commercials has sullied my true love’s views,
She thinks that the only respectable position is on the evening news.
She made me mad at what she said and because of the breeding of my species,
The first thing that I thought to do was to launch a hand full of my feces.
I let it fly but my aim was poor and nearly hit a photo of her old man,
It went wide to the left and I accidently hit her treasured window fan.
Please tell me what I can do to win her back, this loss has sent me reeling.
I just want to be with her once again and like a banana be appealing.
Dear gentle simian reader, the answer to your problem is not the one you’ll like,
This chimpy chick does not deserve you and you should tell her to take a hike.
What choice did she leave you? Your actions were the only course to take,
Is she going to question every decision that you should ever want to make?
Go to her right now, collect up all of your bananas and then you should flee,
Get back into the swing of things and go find yourself another tree.
It’s nothing that you’ve done wrong and that’s why you need to escape,
She knew when she started seeing you that you were just an ape.
Girls, don’t try to change your men or you will push them to revolution,
I’m sick and tired of all of you who still believe in their possible evolution.
Take your time to find your guy and don’t think that you can create one.
If you don’t want to live with a hairy ape why would you even date one?
Our teacher, old Miss Michener
Was really rather odd.
She had a nasty twitch in her
That started with a nod.
Sometimes that twitch would form a frown
Upon her painted lips.
And then it moved its way on down
To sway her big old hips.
We couldn’t wait for her to yell
When some of us would bicker,
And at the ring of the lunch bell
Her eyelids made a flicker.
These were such fun days, in and out-
Enjoying her odd quirks.
We tried our best to make her shout
Just waiting for those jerks.
But one day as we counted math
Miss Michener had enough.
She let out all her fiery wrath
In one big steamy huff.
She stomped hard twice, upon the floor
And marched across the room,
Then flung open the closet door
And grabbed the class’s broom.
Our mouths gaped open, really wide.
We stared as she took flight-
Straight through the window, right outside,
Then zoom, clear out of sight.
Our teacher, old Miss Michener
Was more than we could see-
She had a nasty witch in her,
But we had set her free!
By Susan Burd © 2011
media of hand set makes
until response there
gives miss call after miss call
if no reply....ugh
For contest: in show me the Funny
Doors clamping as i could not find sleep
Dogs barking and trembling in the neighborhood
Lying in my bed,eyes wide open,cold feet
Like horror foot prints flashed on my walls
Frightened and terrified,could not imagine it was real
Strange hands that reached for my thighs
Fingers hurting deeply as it penetrates
So scruffy i had screamed my name
Like a rose just got dried
Freezing and loud the wind blows
My sheet squeezed l was choking
Somebody help me, i lost my voice
Could i be dreaming i asked in silence
Imaginations gone bad , thoughts were awful
felt a grasp of my neck and my eyes were red
The night was too long i could not pretend
I suddenly reached for an object to strike
Amazing, what It had become
A rod i do not want to let go
In a trance i had seen the mask
On the wrist, it was twelve past twelve
That time of that day,we met!
until I fall
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her tuffet
After coming home from the pub
When up came a spider
And sat down beside her
So she smashed it to bits with a club
Now Caroline wouldn’t use
Wouldn’t deign to let loose
With a club - ‘cause she isn’t so thick
And it was not just a thump
No despatch with a bump
But sure death by a huge hockey stick!!!
Nurse Tina went to work one day, feeling pretty good.
Things usually didn’t work out, just as she thought they should.
Today she said would be different; I feel it in my bones.
She smiled at everyone she met, despite her college’s groans.
She floated in and out of rooms, gave lots of special care.
Her patients were all smiling, as if happy being there.
It was shortly after lunch time when Myrtle rang the nurse.
Tina came into the room, where the lady held her purse.
Where are you going Miss Myrtle? Asked Tina soft and sweet,
Then sat her down upon the bed as she tried standing on her feet.
Nurse Tina dear, I sadly fear that I must use the Lu,
And time is running out my love, now you have things to do.
Hold it, hold it, was all the nurse could say,
Then ran to find the wheelchair they’d used earlier that day.
Now Myrtles face was turning blue,
Waiting for that mobile Lu.
Not yet! Not yet! Exclaims Tina in her face,
I have to slip the bedpan safely in its place.
Ahhhhh, Myrtle she was happy now, her look was just sublime,
As she jumped into the wheelchair, I swear in record time.
STOP RIGHT NOW, STOP RIGHT NOW called Tina with a shout,
For in Myrtles rush to sit down, the pan went flying out.
Ohhhh the nurses day was shattered now, from the lady and the Lu,
But Miss Myrtles smile was that of bliss, As she finished going poo.
Commit to the turn!
Turn, Turn, Turn!!!
I am behind you, see me burn!
If you turn on your blinker
That means your going left or right
The way you drive leaves me in a fright!
Anxious I may be to get on my way
But your driving (or lack there of) is keeping us all at bay
As I take a deep breath and say a prayer for you
I am reminded that I have a grandma too
If you’re old or very young indeed
Here are some instructions for driving day by day
Commit to the turn!
Turn, Turn, Turn!!!
A Poem for Contest “ What Annoys You”
Miss Lovina chooses her prey,
By reading poetic verse.
When she selects whom she may,
Their invitation she’ll disperse.
She sends all of her love along,
Together with a photograph.
She cares not if it’s right or wrong,
It’s a hallmark of her craft.
Miss Lovina’s interests
Lean toward the pornographic.
She’ll put our server to the test,
Trying to keep up with the traffic.
~Sometimes your true feelings lie in the poem which you pen but never send.
WHAT DO I DO
What do I do to make you feel…
that my love for you is so much real
It gives me thrills,
it gives me chills
my mind collides,
while my heart subsides
And everything around me,
seems colourful and happy
What do I do when I’m all alone
as if no one sees the empty zone
that occupies my lonely heart,
and breaks it slowly when we’re apart
What do I do to make you feel this way?
to make you feel my heartbeat
and make you hear what it say…
_Coz time is running too fast
And I can’t let this moment pass…
I need you to know all of these
So that my heart will be put at ease.