Tip's of Women?
Lounge flushed
In delusion
I plays
Issues of wear
And weather's are vain
Tip's of women
Tied entrances
As low as old war
Gushes enter our floor
Isn't hours tasking?
Asnt looming often rooming
Rooms join dolls bury
Hands praying? So ways say
Papers run in the filled nights
Breaking ideas, counts, verses, checks
On tables and on the mind
City damsels, men aren't rhymes
Okay honey man
Driftwood apartments
Kevin issues jazz
You accident prone today
Chaska home
I have been behind San Francisco Paris
Says speaks for itself
Fearless abandon
Call on shores
Runned in
Hip at the door
Night the session
Strange moon wander in question
Illusive paints
Harken of tame
Tara I uncover
Repent dowry upon my branch
Eyes drafting midnight
Hourglass tarnish adventures
Lost rehearsal
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall...
Or did he? It's really hard to tell,
Though he was fractured all to hell.
Indeed, his personality was split.
He had less sense than an oven mitt.
When he went to London to see the queen,
I thought it best to intervene.
I summoned the king's men and horses -
Had any taken psychology courses?
"We don't know how to read and write, and
The king says we shan't be enlightened."
So, I took things into my own hands -
Said, "you're Jack Horner, understand?"
Leaving the corner with some dame Jill,
He broke his crown, again, on the hill.
I said, "man, you are accident prone"
He asked, "Mother Hubbard, where's my bone?"
Screaming, I ran as fast as I can,
"This place is nuts. I'm the gingerbread man."
Split wide open like a ripe watermelon
The pink pithy inside so sweet and juicy
With all the kids screamin’ and yellin’
Celebrating the Fourth of July, you see.
But, suddenly, everything went so bad
When I fell off an old mechanical horse,
My head split wide open, I felt so sad
Not like that ripe watermelon, of course.
I was covered in blood, to the Emergency
Where they closed me up with stitches,
A serious operation of considerable urgency
Leaving me with these permanent twitches.
So, be careful what you split wide open, sir,
Be it a watermelon, a coconut, but never you
For a holiday accident creates a frightful stir
And accident prone, I’ve had more than a few.
FOURTH PLACE WINNER
Written May 31, 2022
Submitted to "This 'n That, Vol 12" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Frank Spencer’s so accident prone
He’s a walking disaster zone
‘Oooooh Betty’ he cries-
She covers her eyes
Frank shouldn’t be left on his own!
8,8,5,5,8
*shouldn't classed as 2 syllables
Frank Spencer was a character in a programme called ‘some mother’s do ave em’ When something went wrong his catch phrase to his wife was ooooooh Betty
On a Lim Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
04/01/22
Can something else not play
Or you just stop a replay
Of the scene on display
About Sex and Foreplay
And the way The Wayward lay?
For oddly do we slay
The Good Life everyday
While at last we shall pay
On some not conceived day
Or a tearful thing have to say
About Free Immoral Leeway,
Much like Accident- Prone Highway…
And sterile ***********
A far cry from Photography.
The throne in heaven is accident prone,
if you are a God please don’t go alone,
take a few angels when you have to go,
get them to fan their wings so they don’t throw!
it was Thor who broke the seat with hammer,
must control temper, learn to be calmer,
no need for thunder lightening at loo,
with prunes at breakfast, should easily do!
Venus is embarrassed to share cabin,
fears would be spied by soul of Rasputin,
with her each flush there is radiant glow,
her acts of ablution are morning show!
And Jupiter has not been well either,
he can hardly see! that old old geyser!
his toilet use? it’s all over the place!
his toilet habits are heaven’s disgrace!
the chain over the cistern is rusty old,
you would think it is made of solid gold?
when you pull the chain you hear a gush,
their well is dry, no water in the flush!!
No wonder God’s come to earth as Avatars!
our clean toilets on earth score full five stars!!
Written 28/10/2021
10 syllables each line
Jack Webster sponsored
The Throne in heaven contest
On the Importance of Little Things
Oh, the importance of little things
A careless match - a broken spring;
Causing disasters - fires and flooded homes
Attention to details - not accident prone.
The failure of a $.70 spring in our refrigerator caused a "frig flood!" Everything in our home, outside of the bedrooms, has been moved out, all the flooring has been removed, bathrooms stripped and wallboard has to be replaced! A frig flood renovation!
10-22-21
Contest: Bite Size Poems No.24
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Buried here is the weather man J. P. Blithing
Forgot his brolly and got struck by lightning
In this vault is the flat coffin of J.J. Stowler
Fell into the path of a runaway steam roller
In this grave lies the ashes of Jim Fortescue
Got drunk and passed out on a barbecue
Buried below in two halves is Arthur. P. Law
Slipped in his workshop onto a circular saw
Interred a hundred feet below in a lead lined coffin
Are the glowing remains of an accident prone boffin
Lying in this vault is the body of a tiger
Inside its body is the hunter J. Stiger
Buried below in a jar are the pickled remains of P. Stringer
Who stumbled and drowned into a large vat of malt vinegar
Written 23 September 2021
Another dreary morning in heaven all for us
We stop dancing, listen to the angel's chorus
We have heard it a million or so times in pain
Attendance required for all who've yet to gain
An exalted place before the golden celestial throne
Everyone except for James and John, they're done.
Perhaps, I shall stroll down to heaven's gates
Peek through the bars and see who there awaits
Thousands and thousands are in the multitude
Seeking next day entry, a thousand years or two
Deathly sick, the suffering, the accident-prone
Every nationality, religious persuasion, and skin tone
Soon, that is a hundred million years or more sharp,
We sing Amazing Grace, while David plays the harp
In the tedious afternoon, we file a trillion prayers
Sent up by the faithful listing all their cares
Yesterday and tomorrow never seem to come about
I must return this diadem, I think I hear a shout.
Having read the news as we continue our life's displays
It's similar news to them, when our parents were young
It's towards sad to tragic as we just don't seem to learn
What do we bring to the table, what do us humans yearn
Beirut, Syria, whether deliberation, or accident prone?
It's similar news to them, when our parents were young
Famine, floods, fighting, bloods, all on today's phones
Just what have we learnt from the tips of our tongues
Will we keep reading the news as continuous life flays
It's now similar news to us, we've not learnt when young
We're towards sad to tragic as our learning's lost it's turn
What do we bring to the table, what do us humans yearn
When all roads lead to Rome,
It is hard to get home.
When all roads lead to Rome,
We become accident prone.
When all roads lead to Rome,
Our minds are no longer free to roam.
As a bumbling teenager full of testosterone
Trying to impress a chickie but was accident-prone
Walked into a pole
Minor injury to my soul
Awkward as it was, ended calling her my own
Sitting in traffic on my cell phone
Thought perhaps I might be accident-prone
Got softly run over
Minor injuries to my rover
Now just sit here playing on my xylophone
Conquering Pain
(Through Mental Toughness)
Written: by Miracle Man
10-9-2019
I try not acknowledging that nemesis pain,
I view pain as a temporary irritation.
I won’t surrender, letting it become my bane,
Unless brought on by some ablation.
Any lacerations, I’ve always viewed as minor,
Whether stapled, sutured, glued or such.
Though some have produced a dandy shiner,
I’m not accident prone nor am I a soft touch.
From a seven hour stay in the ER I Just came,
For my eleventh sew, staple job on my head alone.
Each scar tells a story that’s never the same,
My twenty six scars began long before grown.
If hospital administered on an irregular basis,
Pills become my crutch for temporary relief.
I find pain a frame of mind in most cases,
And I avoid the road that might lead to grief.
I’ve seen a lot of days and some have been rough,
And a few of them has brought some scorch.
But if your like a Pit Bull who thinks he’s tough,
You won’t let fear keep you tied to the porch.
Some people are accident-prone, not me
Been accident-free since nineteen seventy-three
A good run I'd say
Happy miles each day
Till my car got attacked by a humongous tree
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.