Lemme tell ya' about a
I met her one night
under disco lights
up at Candies
starin' at me
grittin' her teeth
aimin' ta' see
if I wanted a piece
by way of flashin' granny panties
actin' a fool
took a shot
and one tiny glance
but got caught
lit up a smoke
and tried to play it off cool
but it was too late
she had pulled up a stool
"Hey young felluh, where ya' been all my life!"
"Sorry to burst yir' bubble, but I got a wife!"
"That don't matter kid, what she don't know won't hurt the girl"
as she fisted my collar and yelled, "I'LL ROCK YIR' WORLD! Annie the Tranny is what they call me. Bet you been wanted ta' bone me since you first saw me!"
Fear and frustration danced on my face
I begged the bouncer to
"Get this he/she outta the place!"
My pleas were to no avail,
and that sea donkey lurked hot on my trail
flailin' it's arms and grindin' bar stools with it's tail
Speakin' of tails...
a shiny blue wale tail crept up her back
Her jeans were mean, but couldn't hold her underwear's elastic slack
but at least it beat feastin' eyes upon her crack
wrapped her grimy hands around my neck and asked,
"You n' me, boy, what the heck!?!"
"Look here lady, you seem real nice for a tranny;
to hit the bricks,
and yir' Granny Panties!"
At that point the joint started to really heat up
people were glarin' like they really wanted me beat up
I can't recall how the hell I got out of there
alive and free
it was like a big manly freight train
headin' dead at me
I'm pretty sure I owe the good Lord a big favor
that beast was the devil
and Jesus was my Savior!
It's a night I thought would never end...
the night at Candies Bar n' Grill
Granny Panty Annie got a thrill
tryin' to make me her sexy friend!!!
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012
Mornings are dreadful time in life unless waking beside gorgeous woman hopefully
a not married one husbans can be such a downer.
And when ya wake to a warm beautiful creature by your side.
And the first thought that comes to your mind is i wonder whats for breakfest.
Then ya probaly cant read the menu to start with and desserve
to have a oversized weight lifter re arrange your ribs.
Im a southern man once means several things non of which means im normal.
And this morning finds my yerning for a trip and widespread mischief.
My amigo had vanished after are trip south of the boarder I remember saying
to myself as i watched him running naked across the dessert being chased
by the flying monkeys he was surley seeing after his consumption of a foreign substance
There goes a fine american.
I would have ran after him but but i didnt want thoose things to turn there attention to me
I herd they had a thing for southern actscents.
And theres nothing worse than a bunch of horney flying monkeys trust me
Ive delt with this problem befor.
and being it was happy hour i knew my slightly insane amigo would understand
in all his naked glory.
Besides I left him some sneakers and a sixpack.
And kept his credit card for safe keeping.
Naked men have no place to keep credit cards and I figured he was in no state to handle
So as i sit behind the wheel ready to to get lost in the madness of fast food and
the ant hill of insanity that is wall mart i turn my thoughts to vegas.
For where would a lost nude slightly insane person run to and feel at home.
I had turn the music up to drown out the sound of whoever was in the trunk.
I figured if i had put sombody in there in a drunken moment.
It had to be for a good reason.
And so with slightly hungover mindset are road begins.
and so with that do the games also.
And i figured hanging around with a cops wife wasnt the smartest idea.
That and im allergic to bullets.
My muse and 16 year old spirtiual advisor had phoned me to say that.
I probaly needed to Invest in the spirt of Jack Daniels today.
And hey she had went to church more than once so who was I to argue.
With a five five spitfire by the name of tinker.
so with A unknown companion in the trunk not helping my hangover i was off
to the races Untill next time kiddies.
Adios and im off to find my amigo.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
A DINNER INVESTMENT (for Eve)
My husband Chris Adams loves to wine and dine my needs
In the most expensive places, one can eat.
Arriving in LIMO style
A humble waiter greets
After I viewed the menu I replied,
"Hun I am ready to order."
A T-bone steak -- fully cook the meat.
At our table, walked a gorgeous snake-eyed women
She leaned over my husband's seat
Approaching Chris with a big wet kiss
I stomped on my husband's foot
I gave him the look, of all looks
She slithered with her tongue in Adams ear
"Go to that hotel and relax, I need some cash"
With one stare I yelled, "Chris how dare you cheat!"
"I had enough, I want a divorce MR. ADAMS!"
I reach over to slap him,
He replies, "She is my mistress Bath-Sheba my dear EVE!"
"I do not love her."
"I understand if you want a divorce!" Mr. Adams replied.
"But, remember, no more furs, luxury suite,
Winters in Barbados,
Summers in Tuscany."
"Infinity or Lexus, and first class plane seats."
"Forget about the Yacht Club."
"Party by the swimming pool, that land a hundred feet."
"It is up to you my Kitty Skat Eve to give it all up."
"You decide if these diamonds you want to keep."
Without thinking of taking a leap.
I saw Mr. Adams business partner Cain with a Jezebel in his arms.
I ask my husband Chris in a small peep.
"Do not tell me that Cain commits Adultery too?"
"Cain's blonde looks really cheap as if she works the street."
"Well, our mistress is prettier and looks real sweet."
"Honey, our mistress Bath-Sheba is worth the keep."
"Mr. Adams tonight you can call me Steve and not Eve,
Whatever it takes to satisfy your needs plus my gold lust!"
(The moral of the story is what some Eve's
will do to keep their investment, I mean Adam's.)
A joke and dedication to Chris D. Aechtner
For THE Eve in Eden* (Contest) *
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
I am dating a young woman and we are deeply in love. However, no matter what I do sexually, she never achieves orgasm so we decided to ask a sex therapist for advice. The therapist listened to our story and suggested the following;
"Hire a strapping young man and while the two of you are making love have the young man wave a towel over you, as though he is fanning you both. Make sure he is totally naked and she can see his manhood as he fans you both with the towel. That will help your wife fantasize, and should bring on a full-blown orgasm."
We went home and followed the therapist's advice. We hired a handsome young man and he stripped off and enthusiastically waved a towel over us both as we made love. But it didn't help and still my lover was unsatisfied and frustrated.
Perplexed, we went back to the therapist "Okay" he says, "let's try it reversed. Have the young man make love to your wife and you wave the towel over them."
Once again, we followed the advice. The young man got into bed with my lover and I waved the towel. The young man really worked with great enthusiasm and my lover soon had an enormous, room-shaking, screaming, orgasm.
Smiling, I dropped the towel, tapped the young man on the shoulder and said to him triumphantly...."NOW THAT'S how you wave a towel, son!!"
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
Emma was a pretty girl,
And was pretty wild.
She never minded what people said,
Nor did she mind her mother.
Mornings when she left for school
She also left her books,
Everyone would look at her,
And also gave her looks.
She loved to comb through magazines,
Yet never combed her hair,
Her dad thought she should step it up,
So she’d step in puddles.
Now Emma wasn’t really bad
She just had had bad habits,
Deciding to turn her life around,
She turned right on the street.
Now as the child was trucking on home,
She saw a truck come at her,
The driver was screaming “Are you mad?”
It seemed he was mad at her.
She stood and watched the truck tip
Heard a tip, get out of the way.
The driver jumped out and flew in a rage,
While thousands of pies flew through the air.
As the pies began to land
On people and on land,
They all turned red, orange and blue
Emma almost felt blue too.
Now as she stood there looking sweet
Tasting the sweet from her dress,
Absolute anarchy went down
As people bent down to delight in a good old fashion pie fight.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Plenitude of Pies Contest
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
In a small town there lived a little lady
The lady`s name was Lucinda
Lucinda was always bubbling, cheerful and happy
When she laughed here rolling laughter,
both her cheeks and bosom shaked
She was a beautiful woman with wide hips,
and a butt as big as a dinner table
Lucinda was old and walking was difficult
and life was not so easy for her
She had not so much in this world,
but she always brought a bicycle
Everyone in the small town would help her
as best they could
Whatever you did for her, she thanked with these words:
"You shall have my old bike when I die"
Following the bubbling laughter, shaking cheeks and bosom
Everyone in the small town knew Lucinda,
loved her and wanted to help her
Same thanks every time:
"You shall have my old bike when I die"
Now Lucinda is dead
Her bike the city has received as a gift from Lucinda
If you see a bike in the flower park in the small town
Is it to remind the beloved sweet, rolling round Lucinda
that was always cheerful and happy
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2012
visitin me aunty Cushla
For the first time in Ballybay
I found meself beside a signpost
An I stopped to find me way.
It was then I spied a little feller
Laid behind a bale of hay
He was prepared to help me
but wanted to know what I was prepared to pay.
Well I couldn't believe what I was hearin
He's a tight fisted scallywag
but he wouldn't listen to reason
and jangled the coins in his money bag.
Would ye do that to a feller Irishman ?
I hope yer marry a sour faced old hag
He said , Why do yer think I'm chargin yer
Shut yer gob an get out yer swag.
He rubbed his hands as I counted me money
Just like Ebenezer Scrooge
Gigglin like an hyena
With his cheeks the colour of rouge.
Twenty pieces of silver
I thought his price was huge
The guys a bloody comedian
an I am to be his stooge.
He stood up from behind the bale
An dressed in so many shades of green
With his funny hat and his little pipe
On his shillelagh he began to lean.
Now where was it yer said yer were goin
Ah Ballybay , Well to prove I'm not too mean
I'm gonna walk there with yer
Aren't I the most generous leprechaun yerv ever seen?
As we walked I told him about me aunty Cushla
an me bein on holiday fer two weeks
He handed me back me money
I'm so dumbfounded I can't speak
Ah to see a leprechaun yer must believe
He said,So yer must forgive me cheek
An its luvvly to see a young Irish lad
Who didn't treat me like a freak.
Well Shamus an me became buddies
Fer the duration of me stay
Downin pints an eatin colcannon
an dancin in the Irish way
He could really play a fiddle
An no more did I have to pay
I loved me visit to see aunty Cushla
On me first trip to Ballybay.
Copyright © DARREN WATSON | Year Posted 2014
My cousin shared her wishes and dreams,
On our star gazing night, she whispered them so sweet
As a shooting star glided down from the sky,
She said, I wish ….. I wish…. all I wish are these tonight
Someday, I will marry a smart, rich and handsome guy
And have a grandiose banquet on my nuptial rite
We’ll be dancing like a lovely prince and princess ,
With all my wedding sponsors on their best suits and dresses
All in pink ,that’s the motif I will surely request.
She kept into her dreams as several years passed by,
Still searching for her prince charming who’s hard to find
Unconsciously going beyond the age to give birth to a child,
In a hurry at age of seventy, she took a rich ninety years old guy.
The wedding was held after a day or two,
The guy seated on his wheelchair with rheumatism on his toe
She headed slowly at the alter to accept his shaking hands,
Two nurses followed, so with sponsors dressed up in printed brown.
The highlight of the wedding rite started at once,
They held tightly with a nebulizers on the other hands,
But the words of oath, they took time to pronounce
False teeth were both misplaced and nowhere to be found.
Reception followed grandiosely in the guy’s mansion,
I saw many old men and women still eager to dance on the floor,
With hunched back, shaking knees, they twisted rock and roll
Then, sweet music played and my cousin danced with her groom.
But, we all wondered how did he stand alone?
He’s so heavy , I knew my cousin couldn’t help him at all,
With our great surprise, his nurse was at his side like his crutch
Everyone thought , he’s really a smart guy! Was he not?
Then, everyone followed them so happily on the spacious hall,
And in trio, they held each other so tight and moved like a fool.
Written: Sept. 15, 2012
Contest: My Cousin's Wedding (funny poem)
Contest Judged: 9/30/2012
Poet Sponsor: Joann Grisetti
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012
Girls, if you ever find a man of great persistence
Listen to your ******, and say NO! with adequate resistance
You see chicks, when a dude gets a hard dick
If it's dirty, it can make you super sick
Painful pisses and cloudy urine will follow suit
All because Dirty Dick Man wanted to discharge his root
So, ladies, beware...there are diseases out there
No Dick gets serviced until it's clean and faire
Run, scream, shout, "Spank your ****ing monkey!"
Please, I beg of you, do as I now propose
Keep your ****** sparkling clean-never let it decompose.
Copyright © Jennifer Young | Year Posted 2014
Hello to all four-legged and two-legged friends in the big world
The people who take care of us, do not know as much as they think
We are probably smarter than they are
Take for example, that little cell phone that our people
always have with them wherever they go
What we do.....lift the foot and "send a message" to a friend
When I am out and walking with my people I get many interesting "messages"
Some "messages" are very interesting and take a little longer time to "read"
Then my people impatient, pulling and struggling the leash
What they can not understand that I must "answer" to all "messages"
Our "conversations" and "messages" are equally important
Think about it....they are also free....there is no expense
When their cell phone call or pling they take time to respond
Hello all two-legged humans our messages are just as important as yours
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2012
They organized a church bazaar,
To raise money for the poor.
A booth for selling chances
Was set up, outside the door.
When I bought the raffle ticket,
My reasoning was murky,
And I could only just believe it,
When I won that doggone turkey.
Now, the kids were all excited
When we brought the critter home.
So we placed him in the barnyard,
Where he'd have lots of room to roam.
Since the date was late October,
I'm quite sure you understand,
That to have him for Thanksgiving
Was my awe inspiring plan.
Well, the turkey was no birdbrain,
As I was very soon to find.
That bird knew what I was thinking;
Why, I declare, he read my mind.
I let the children care for him,
To my most profound regret--
He turned on his charming manner,
And, quickly, he became their pet.
But that fact did not deter me,
I told myself it didn't matter.
I was dead set and determined
To see that gobbler on a platter.
When the kids perceived my purpose,
They turned on the tears and pleas.
Then, the wife joined in their chorus,
And that brought me to my knees.
So I told my grieving family
They could dry up, and relax.
I concealed my disappointment--
Went and put away the axe.
Came the dinner of Thanksgiving,
Not a sad face could be found.
And our live Thanksgiving turkey
Was the gladdest bird around.
We gathered around the table,
And I humbly asked the blessing--
While Tom gobbled down his corn, outside,
We had hotdogs and dressing.
Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2006
Pweeze wet me expwain, officer -
I taught it was dat wascally wabbit agin...
buwwowing under my ewectric fence,
eating up my cawwots. wettece, my bwoccoli
and-and...even my woot-a-beggers!
He's a weal pest...constantwee hawassing me,
destwoying, wandom wooting, wuining my cwop...
din waughing at me! (Dere outta be a waw)
Wha...awwest me?...Dis is an outwage!
I am a waw-abiding citizen!...Wead me my wights!
I demand pwoper mis-wepwesentation!
I am going diwectly to your superwior office, pwivate!
Bewieve it my fwiend, you will wive to wegwet this...
Ow! Must you be so fweekin WUFF?...Dat hoits!
I have woomatism you know! Powice bwutality! Po...
Aw scwew it...Wes! Wes! I moidered da widdle bum!
(Wunning awound dwessed wike dat
distwibuting doze siwwie cowoured eggs
Embawassing widdle cweature...
It's a downwight disgwace I tell you)
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2013
Jaws bulging, saliva drooling
Johhnie stood at the street corner
Digging furiously into his soggy bag
Large fleshy chips swimming in vinegar
Delighting his watering mouth.
Rain drizzling on his tired body
Johhnie momentarily oblivious to all,
His tedious life, his electricity bill,
His sick terrier, his drenched overcoat
And even his foul tempered wife
Who he could hear re-echoing
High cholesterol, high cholesterol, cholesterol..
For one ten minute period
He allowed himself the indulgence
That surpasses all on a hungry day
A good feed from the local chipper.
As he licked each finger one by one
Johhnie exuded a great contentment.
Retracing his steps, he shook the wet from his cap
And returned to the shop for a jumbo sausage.
Copyright © Deirdre Omaidin | Year Posted 2009
I was sleepwalking down the street, when I stumbled over a stool
standing there. "Watch your feet", the stool yelled, offended. "I am
sorry, but I am sleepwalking, so I can't watch my feet. In fact, I can't
watch anything, I am dreaming", I replied. The stool then made me
fall flat on my face, and yelled hard. At that point the dog appeared,
utterly annoyed by the rude awakening. And he bit the stool hard
in one of its legs. All the noise apparently woke my neigbour, who
angrily threw down a bucket of water. The water hit me, the bucket
hit the street with an enormous ruckus. I woke up startled, ran after
the dog, but tripped over my pajama pants water-soaked and heavy.
I hit my head against the stool, and, dizzy, stayed down there,
heavily bleeding. The neighbour called 911, a little later a deafening
noise filled the street, the ambulance hauled me inside and drove
off again. The stool misses one leg, The bucket has a number of
dents extra, the dog sits shivering in an alley. The neighbour went
back to sleep. My front door is still unlocked, because in a state of
sleepwalking one doesn't remember to lock the lot and subsequently
bringing one's keys.
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
Reporting live on the soup, with Americas MOST. WANTED. POETS.
Standing here with our host John,
With an exclusive update on criminal poets, captured and on the run.
Switching over to you John,. "Thank you P.D., lets give thanks to all the
P.M.W. tipsters, and our lovely F.B.I. agent Andrea Dietrich (Andy) & U.S.
Marshal Shirley Harrison (S.H.)
Capturing 1 infamous fugitive Nikko Palmario, a comment crusader going contest crazy.
Christopher Brantley, still at large U.S. Marshall (S.H.) says, "This brilliant fugitive leaves no
trace." A dangerous poet posting comments longer than his poetry. Leaving a distinction of
excellence in any short form. P.M.W.tipsters Demand to be brought down to poetic justice.
P.M.W. Tip, led Marshall (S.H.) to the most notorious blond bombshell on the soup.
Captured on her vacation Linda Marie Bariana, lost control of her blond moment.
Paralyzing her laptop with sand. Covering to other crimes with to much poetry rhyme.
Her # 1 crime, entering a dark poet contest, to bad for this SWEET HEART who shines.
Wanted in all nations Lynette Chachere a realistic poetic criminal against reality & dreams.
F.B.I.(Andy) Says"Our sweet Lynn, carries a weapons against all Enigma wonders."
A shameful crime to bring down a poets spirit with an intervene of her intense poetry.
F.B.I. Most wanted poetic lunatics, Billy the Kidster, with a Mental Poet Disorder.
A maniac on the rampage, a poet who lost it, with a crime slamming himself.
F.B.I. Most wanted viscous fugitive Christopher D. Aechtner, alias Vomiticus Grammaticus.
This former Canadian elusive bad boy, topping the hot list, a harmless poetic threat.
Dakarai Cobbs, a 30 year old soups spot robbing thug. F.B.I.(Andy) Says "We offer 1 million
For the capture of this accused space invader aka the Sonnet man.
A poetic gang banger posting out of control, with a drive by of 130 hits in less than a month
Nathan Dilts, at large with the biggest search in poet history.
A terrorizing poet implanting each poet with frightening thoughts and images so twisted.
Making his followers absorb his evil poetic plots, while connecting center of dots.
F.B.I.(Andy) Says he is a mastermind with explosive & twisted thoughts.
Marshall (S.H.)Says "there is nothing we won't do to take his Poet License away.
((sorry no room for the Poet Destroyer))
Back to you P.D. "thank you John, there you have it soupers a few top criminal poets."
Reporting live on the soup P.D., all across the world enjoying our poetry security
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
When you're walking
Scuffling along in trouble's shoes
Head hanging low
Mumbling moody blues
Well me, I'm making lemonade
Why can't you
Taking bitter adding something sweet
Maybe a smidge, no a heap full of hope
Heck, by days end I'll mix it up
Movin' straight to, getting crazy in root beer floats
When all you see is red
Awful thoughts pound your head
"Honey do this, honey do that"
I'm sitting back
Feet up, sipping lemonade again
You look my way and say
"Boy, he's got it made"
Not so my friend
I just taking my lemons
And making me some lemonade instead
There's so much "other time"
To have your little gripes
Or your petty cries
But, now let's toast away the grind
And partake in some lemonade on ice
You've come this far
"And guess what? You've got your health"
Check your pulse you're still alive
So change your ways
Brother, embrace the lemons
Squeeze fresh into winner ala mode
And "live baby, baby live! in lemonade days
"Ahhh ... such sweetness"
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2012
Oh - Emm - Geeeee !!!
OMG!...I'm gonna wig out, doing this poem!!
A ditz like me writing for a freakin’ contest, no less!!!??
You gotta be kiddin' me !!! Holy fricassee!!
No Way. Jose' !! I'm such a space cadet....OMG !! I’m spazzing out!!
Well...geeze, then..... like, I get this head rush...
I'm getting majorly stoked, ya know?..Like...maybe I’ll give it a shot?...
Still...ya know..., whaddif I, like, totally bombed it!!? OMG!!
I mean, like, ya know how all them other poets?...
Well....like they are so classic...like, ya know?...so awesomely rad!?
Like... say, they eyeball mine, and bustin’ up, they scream…
"Gag me with a spoon?!! CHECK OUT THIS FREAKIN’ GROSS POEM!”
Well,what the hay,.... ..no biggie, guess it wouldn't such a bummer...
yeah......well, shoot, they can call me a loser......who gives a rip??
So, I figure, like ....Whatever, dude!!
Okay, now, I'm totally pumped,...ya know?
Waddif it’s ends up freakin’ sweet? Oh, Pleeeease!!!
Like a win, geeze that would be majorly...rad!!!
I KID YOU NOT! OMG !!! I'm so SURE !! YEAH RIGHT,….AS IF!!!!!
Man, I’m so clueless …hmm. how do I even start this freakin' essay?
so, like....here goes...okay?
Ya' say they won't like it, huh??.. HUH ??? Ya' think??
Tell em to go take a chill pill!!
Just for fun!: For the Slang Contest
(and be sure....this isn't how I normally talk LOL !!)
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
"What do we have for breakfast?"
"Lettuce and cabbage juice!" she
She had forced him to change
his blue pajamas to green
pajamas, then he returns
to bed -
the bed had to have green sheets,
green bed cover, and a green
"Why do you do this to me?!" he asks.
"I was born in St. Patrick's Day!!!"
He can't wait for a green light
to escape a world where
everything he hates is green.
He's afraid he's lost her love in the greenness....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
These two guys were out on a bird hunt
Suddenly they came upon a pit
Looks deep said one; I’ll throw some rocks in
And see how long it takes them to hit
Never heard the rocks hit the bottom
OK, I have an idea, said one
I saw an old transmission back there
We’ll hear it hit; it must weigh a ton
They worked hard dragging that transmission
Then they pushed it down into the pit
They listened intently for a noise
So anxious to finally hear it hit
Suddenly from the brush behind them
A Goat emerged, running to beat sh..
One hundred mile per hour bee-line
Ran right between them into the pit
They looked at each other “dumb founded”
When a farmer drove up in his truck
“Have you guys seen my goat around here?”
One hunter said; “You’ve had some bad luck”
“A goat just ran straight into this pit
He looked like he was on a mission”
“Well, that sure couldn’t have been my goat
My goat was chained to a transmission”
Copyright © Charles Sides | Year Posted 2012
For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.
I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.
I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.
I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the opium parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.
Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the
empty range for my return.
I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.
Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even vulgar and
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.
Copyright © DR Robert Gonzo | Year Posted 2010
"Be careful about reading health
books. Some fine day you'll
die of a misprint"
- Markus Herz.
I had a particular problem;
fear of falling. Desperation
drove me to a library,
and found a book talking about
a cure. It read
"cure for falling......" with some
words missing. I blended
together some herbs written in the book,
which produced a concoction whose
color hadn't been given a name
in the dictionary.
I took the drink and slept.
The following morning I woke up;
dizzy. I felt like a balloon
in space. I was afraid of falling
from my bed. Doubting the cure,
I went through the book in the Internet.
It was a re-published version of an 18th century
which advised on the cure of fear
of falling in love!
I didn't have a shaman's advise on taking
the nasty drink.
I wish I went through the book my counselor
rather than healing myself in a cheap,
Contest Finalized: 28/4/2016
Publishing Date: 12/4/2016
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
I was not impressed by his super mediocre talent
The kind one should keep under wraps exposed
To a world of less well known and near do well designers
Who struggle easily with mundane exotic tasks which, when left
In the hands of expert amateurs would not seem so
Ridiculously sensible at a time such as now
Note: For Kristen Bruni's "Oxymoronica" Contest
Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011
I’m a talkin’ bout them trick-er-treeters last night!
Dang kids cum up on tha porch –
Cum by the bus-loads
Up on tha dang porch!
“Trick er treet!”
Them dang squealee little voices!
Don’t trust none on ‘em
While maw’s a passin’ out nuts ‘n apples ‘n candee ‘n
I’m ridin’ shotgun a sittin’ on tha porch swing
I’m talkin’ bout a genyouwine 12 gage babee!
Oh it’s not a couple extree candees i’m wurreed bout
It’s them dang Jones twins
Honriest kids ever
An ya caint tell ‘em with the masks ‘n all
Weel tha brats knowed some better ‘n ta come
beggin’ on our porch last night
but this mawrnin whin I waked up look out tha winder
At first I thunk it snowed durin’ tha night
Twas a charmin sight
Bout fifty rolls
Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2010
ghost and ghouls
tis the bewitching hour
the time of our rule
let us be shadows
and eyes in the night
let us give the living
a hell of a fright
be not kind
to little boys and girls
step into their dreams
make them all screem
be not friends
to sissys and cowards
visit each one
hour after hour
and when you see someone alone
keep them company
but be not shown
a glimps of a shadow
a bump in the night
a chill in the wind
a mysterious light
make them believe that noise
is not a mouse
and give them the greif of living
in a haunted house
Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2009
I love this place,
it puts a smile on my face.
Super Soupers, writing away,
making me smile, and wanting to stay.
New soupers, joining everyday,
a super place for poets to play.
Old friends, new friends,
all joining in.
We are so blessed,
this is as good as it can get.
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2007
Oh the horror!
it's just fun!
Copyright © Theresa a.k.a. Reecie | Year Posted 2012
Grandmothers and grandfathers how they look,
how can we see that there is a grandmother or a grandfather
When I was a little girl we could see a grandmother and a grandfather
Grandparents used hats, glasses, and walking stick
The skin of their face was weathered and wrinkled
Some had teeth they put in a glass in the evening
Grandmothers always had time for a glass of juice and a hug
She was never impatient, tie shoelaces with pleasure
Always in floral dresses, which smelled like grandma
Grandmothers wont not be at work tomorrow, she has time for an adventure
She does not skip a single word, to be finished soon
It was always sweets in grandmother's hand bag
She never spared, but shared with a beautiful smile
Grandfathers were a bit more restrained,
bit concerned about the day's news in their newspaper
He would like to go for a walk, and he walks with small cautious steps
When he meet someone he knows, he lifts a bit on his hat and nod
He has very little hair on his head, and his head shines in the sun
Grandfathers have a strong hand to hold, I was confident in his hand
He could tell me what all the birds called, he was so wise
Everyone should experience an old-fashioned grandmother and grandfather
one that does not have a television, computer or washing machine
A grandmother and grandfather who always have good time
But it was in the past ..... not today...
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013
- 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 :)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013
The dog seen a rabbit and how he did chase
to catch that little critter and boy what a race
But one thing that rabbit knew as he ran away
he was not going to be lunch for that dog today
Around the tree and into the bushes he went
the dog was right after that little rabbit's scent
the dog was so busy that he never did see
that big old hornet nest way up in the tree
running and barking and making a sound
made all the hornets start buzzing around
They all made a dive and together they flew
when they hit the dog he knew he was through
He made up his mind right there and then
he would never go chasing that rabbit again
Copyright © Oma Bennett | Year Posted 2007
(and long brown stockings)
I detest these stockings,
they're coarse, brown and ugly.
I hate the garters more;
elastic circles that cut off
circulation and fail to halt
the laddering down my skinny legs.
If only . . . I picture myself
in warm jeans and no teasing
from Tommy Rogers.
I put the garters to better use,
roll the repulsive stockings
down around my ankles.
"Who gave you
jointed toothpicks for legs?"
I lost it.
Now, Tommy has a black eye
and my nose is in the corner.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014