Best Bowler Hat Poems
Cuckoo Dancers
Discarded dusty beer bottle lying dormant on the tracks
Commuters await their carriage
Adorned in business like macks
Trees sway in gentle breeze
Capable of more tension,
Performing their shedding of leaves
Far too many to mention.
Pigeon jumps on pigeon
Mating season for all to see,
Another squirrel scurries across the tracks,
Across leaves and debris.
Solitary heron surveys the scene,
The dance of the platform,
The cuckoo dancers ensue.
Discarded shower gel lies half empty on the tracks,
How this could have got there, no one can tell
One person steps forward to check for his train,
Another steps back with woeful refrain
This pattern continues to emphasise my point,
Stemming from this anxiety a new dance I anoint.
Discarded crisp packet bounces gently across the tracks
Reminding me very much of a man on the moon,
Station clock shows the train arrival is now late,
Man grunts, swings his brolly...he is clearly irate.
Discarded cigarette pack fades gradually on the tracks
Whilst woman fixes make up, man kills time by playing with his phone,
Amazes me how people just can't leave them alone!
Man lights his cigarette in a reluctant fashion,
His car has broken down and he hates public transport with a fervent passion.
A multitude of people are gathered here today,
Business attire the name of the day
A brief case, a brolly, a black bowler hat,
And in some extreme cases
A flasher mack and a comedy 'tache!
Suddenly in the distance
A growing light appears,
A communal silent sigh of relief
As the train begrudgingly nears
Man stubs out his cigarette
As the train makes its approach,
In anticipation of his selection of coach.
Discarded Autumn leaf floating lazily across the tracks,
The platform is now empty
Awaiting its latest cuckoo dance!
Copyright
S Rose
there’s a temporal aberration
happening in my head
or it could be I am dreaming
or maybe I am dead
there’s a small purple t rex
who is wearing a bowler hat
while on his massive back legs
he’s sporting yellow spats
he’s dancing a foxtrot
summoning me with a wave
to join him in his frolic
but I just aren’t that brave
there’s an orchestra playing
composed of flying fish
under a banner stating that
we play anything you wish
the dance floor is crowded
I’ve just seen an antelope
with a sign on his back
all ye abandon hope
I am swimming in confusion
next to a cephalopod
all in all this situation
is somewhat rather odd
but I think I’ll just enjoy it
I may wake up by and by
or maybe this is just
a pleasant way to die
Felix was angry I could not blame the cat for that
Mr.Schrödinger should have opted for a clean bowler hat
His experiment was a chiller
Prussic acid was a sly killer
Felix could not endure the cheekiest quantum rat
But Mr.Erwin Schrödinger was a great digger of truth
He went straight to Huttenstrasse's " Who-will-bell-the-cat" booth
And He slurped his Irish Mooligan
Caught Patrick "Pat" Peter Sullivan
And put him in the black box and played qubit with Ruth
Sponsor Carol Eastman
Contest Name Humor Contest
14 January,2015
Armitage Pod
Armitage Pod was a ‘cuddly’ cat
Who insisted on sleeping in the old bowler hat
His amplage cascaded right over the brim
Forming a blubble all around him.
He was big, he was bold and as fit as a flea,
That’s not what he looked like between you and me.
He appeared to the world as a tad overweight,
A description AP would most definitely hate.
He believed he was dapper, shapely and grand,
However this puss had got way out of hand.
At mealtimes his portions seemed really quite small,
It was measly cat food he was served after all.
Open the door you insensitive beast,
I need to get round to the neighbours to feast!
They are having a roast I can smell it from here,
If you don’t let me out I will miss my next meal.
Then dear Mrs Smith lets me join her for supper,
A fine piece of fish with some fresh bread and butter.
That puny cat flap doesn’t work anymore
So just be a dear now and open the door.
He poured out of the bowler and spilled onto the floor,
An ungainly descent landing square on all fours,
His poor joints absorbing the brunt of the fall,
Shocks needed fitting to each of his paws.
Whilst trying to flee to the neighbours for dinner
He ran straight through a ghastly tray of cat litter.
You best not be thinking that I will use that!
My throne is outside, don’t you know I’m a cat.
I reign on high at the top of the gardens,
Your shocking faux pas I might possibly pardon.
Now be a good chap, let me be on my way,
There are pickings out there, far too many to say,
I didn’t become such a fine striking figure
By eating the food you dish up for my dinner.
It took quite some time for the horror to dawn
No way was this puss getting out on the lawn,
For the sake of his health, now confined to the house,
With no tasty morsels not even a mouse,
He sat in the corner very solemn and quiet,
Poor old AP had been put on a diet.
The Room Drains...
The room drains to sepia.
A long distant relative
in a bowler hat,
smoking a pipe;
strokes your dog.
The one
on the couch.
Welcome to Gutter Ball Saloon
Where careful words waft through the tavern;
Serpentine swirls with evil intentions.
Watch your step and pocketbook.
Observe the chap in the derby hat.
No, the other one.
No, the other one…with the honeycomb vest.
That singular sap is one of kind.
Or one of ten; a soldier-still pin at full attention
Standing in formation on the glossy maple
Eager to be wrecked, toppled head-over-heels.
Spare.
He’s been gassed, you see.
Some fancy bouquet of honey perfume
Mingled with cheap cigars and one too many.
He’s feeling lucky and takes a gamble.
Throws in his hand and a couple of dice for good measure.
Snake eyes!
Just look at that dame.
Her dark velvet accentuated physique
Candy apple lips that drip pearls
A string of words she drapes about his neck
Intoxicatingly beautiful.
The phrasing…and she’s a bit of a looker too.
A real up-and-comer with a knack for bowling.
Spare.
A quick spritz and yank of the string.
I dare you to look away.
He’s choking…but of course he is.
He never had a chance in that bowler hat.
Just look at those red cheeks.
Flush.
She’s got him by the balls.
Snake eyes.
Now if you’ll look closely…
I’ve got your wallet.
Strike!
4/26/15
There’s a hungry tabby cat on a very fluffy mat
And a tiny little mouse in the self same house
Well he’s hiding from the cat underneath a bowler hat
So he’s got a lot of nous… he’s a clever little mouse
It’s a made-for-humans hat so it’s too big for a cat
Even bigger for the mouse who had brought it to this house
It’s a little odd is that; he’s a mouse in a hat
But it’s better to be that… than a mouse in a cat
-
Terence a Griffiths of Tyrone or Leitrim!
Did he know but later of 1820 he would be there born
A Flax Grower a renter from landlords of Lord Leitrim's domain
To thresh and sack and cloth and sow by wife and all but slavery go
A brother Bartholemew younger and two rented fields up
They toiled and cut their respective Dromahair tracks for family food and church
Imagined home of limestone scraw and thatch and little more
To Him and Mary had children born but died and died but - James a smile born at last
Year of 42 destined of birth and life much the same
With toil and despair like all the rest of this peopled land
A famine near but river trout and oats and eggs kept going without the potato plant
Blyte and desperation spared on none but those ready those prepared
Not prepared evicted on the lonely green lined road and board of works pittance
For those a fraction better or more a trip to port and bay to look across the sea
Without a family to meet or lodgings to lay
The night before a sorrowful wake of music and porter barrel there
With food and tears and pennies off never to see no more
Terence proud and sad James he sends America to go
And send some money home to mother to lowly sons
She creaks and breaks and steers the stomach
Up and down the drains of hungers pains
The deck to break of wave and sounds and New Amsterdam emerge
Better lands and money sent home to purchase 20 Acres and 2 roods no more
Never to return is not true. A loyal James to Landlord downed and to family too
He roots and spreads and family bear and atained a generation there
But cannot see to bear another ship for those he knows and hates the family split
A neighbour lined up at the poor house and green lane go. He can stand no more
And sacks the postman's bag with others and throws the notice to the ditch
The brutal notice of postman's summons blocks arrests the rabble and gaols the mob
I saw the picture of Limerick gaol a bowler hat not there but pride
Pride in a smile. - James a smile born at last.
Felix was angry I could not blame the cat for that
Mr.Schrödinger should have opted for a bowler hat
His experiment was a chiller
Prussic acid was a sly killer
Felix could not endure the cheekiest quantum rat
Felix was angry © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY
13 November, 2014
Old country house rich colored rugs hot wind
Gallopping hair whipped wildly at his cheeks
Solid double doors top of stairway top coat
Mantlepiece photographs in ornate frames
Small white dog head between its paws
China tea perfect lawn afternoon ceremony
Bowler hat spirited distinguished manner
Smile of welcome, something in his eyes
She trusted his good manners + hospitality
Embraced the shadowy play of candlelight
Scent of peppermint musk vanilla surprise!
EDDIE MARS AND THE SOLAR WINDS
The biggest band in Lisburn and fronted by Eddie Mars
A guy who could play anything, on his collection of guitars
On vocals, Charlie Venus, who was the joker in the pack
He played his fender tele' through a great big marshall stack
On bass was Johnny Neptune, with his yellow platform shoes
He harmonized on vocal, a disciple of the blues
The keyboards were delivered, by Hector Mothership
He worshipped things electrical, and loved the microchip
Ray Uranus kept the beat and he wore a bowler hat
Sure only a crazy drummer, would adopt a name like that
They played all over Britain, with their rockin lunar style
They sold out gigs in Wigan, they were lauded in Millisle
Their stage show was fantastic, with a massive lighting rig
A spaceship and some planets, lit the stage at every gig
That grew a loyal fan base, as they played across the land
They lived a life of excess, just like any touring band
Success soon followed in their wake, awards came thick and fast
And very soon the space machine, had an ever growing cast
Five young lads from Lisburn, fifty people in their crew
An entourage of strangers that they never even knew
Five big trucks, a fleet of cars, a chopper and two planes
A man to do the finance, who didn't even know their names,
Still, fashions change, the sales dried up, the audience died away
And soon there were no big crowds, to watch the five lads play
Their last gig at the Ulster hall, was an evening to forget
Out of tune, and full of beer, as they stumbled through the set
And things got pretty messy when accountants came to call
They had no cash, they had no rights, seems their manager had it all
Their luck ran out, the band where broke, they had to end the show
They had to sell up everything, the spaceship had to go
Ray could never come to terms, with all the hurt and pain
He took some drugs and alcohol, he just never woke again
Hector went to college and he earned a top degree
And now he is the I.T guy in a light bulb factory
Johnny is the local star, who likes to talk about his fame
He tries to pull the young girls, and dine out on his name
Charlie lost his family, when the alcohol took hold
He shelters in the hostels when the weather gets too cold
Eddie left the country, when it all became too much
He now lives in Australia, but he never kept in touch
Rabbits at junctions are often akin to moons at traffic lights. A light lunch is preferable to a whisky scone when taking a picnic to a lake. But playlists can play so font argue with a flamed fortress of fig. Tailoring a suit for a nine foot bead and dazzling s crowd with a one millimetre tiara is not a sound judgment for a counting ball. 1 2 3 then. Radio that on a one kilometre hand held microphone. Hahahahaha the skipping rope is jumping in a hula hoop today. Lovely. It is not the way of the feathered cloud to land in a field fuelled upside-down but a gridlocked four dimensional satanic bowler hat can swim many acres in a spotted swimsuit. Good. Underpasses underwater underground undertake uniquely unequal unisons. And a proxy is neither productive nor normal. Statutory static authorisational code bringing wine to a ball room. Fantastic news for the pillar. Geranium gathering giblets. And a pie. Wow. Xxxxx destitution demon demonstrated dogmatic dramas digging. Xxxxxx counter intelligence and no matter. Xxxxx miscommunication Z
Bees in jumpsuits cannot really fly but caterpillar boats can go very very fast down the canals. It is an oversized cake that bungee jumps for the longest period of time at the sponge competitions where the cream of trophies is to be won. And apple tartlets swinging from apparatuses create very spectacular shows. Facing a fork the flapjack frowns in concentration then climbs over in fine valiant fashion to the applause from the seated rows of oats, currants and raisins. The commentator couch was stood awestruck at the awesome acrobatic skills of the cup cakes as they sailed around on the trapezes a million foot over the stadium. Much to the delight the movements of the mixed rice performed exceedingly superb synchronized swimming routines and the tiny clown fish in a bowler hat and microphone commentated on their show. But a show is not a shoulder, nor a shadow, and nor is it a shouting shawl. Classy charming cute creatures create calm cities. And the dog and cat fish swim around in the buckets of the back gardens. Clapping. Hahaha tubular tabs tagging toast towels. Hahaha voluptuous volumetric violet vessels. Xxxx anthropomorphic Z Z Z Z at six tiles and forty three papers of a waterfall flush in a muddy seasonal view. !z!.
ALIENATED FATE
Is life but just a game,
Are we all made the same,
Do we seek money, fame,
And only look for gain,
And every day begin the game,
All over again!
The wealthy need compassion
But just point and blame,
Leaving an unsavory stain,
No matter the country, its
Location or terrain!
The poor, no chance for school
And hungry in their pain,
Suffer war, strife, poverty
And death, know
Not the meaning vain,
And do not ever feign or
Dare to deign,
To be like them, they could
Not travel down a
Rich man’s lane!
Meanwhile the politicians
Banter on, saying their main
Concern reform, the poor
Get poorer, bane
Of their lives equality,
But pleas ignored, left out,
In torrential rain!
The rich with bowler hat,
New suit and cane,
Beware, your future will
Hold no moon to wane!
This planet’s life’s long yearn,
To achieve uniformity, and
Inherently apply the will to learn!
U F O is a W d o p u y t r e s a d f g h k l k m n b v c xz q?
Feeling ill cam be understood to be akin to laying down upside down on a constantly rotating piece of grass that moves so rapidly that ground cannot really fathom a place to stand still. But stillness is not stagnation nor is it syllables stalling for stillness is often likened to a giant hexagonal bee swarm rotating royally signalling to jester fish that the top of a yogurt reads the same as the top line of a paragraph but minus the full stop. Equations equipped equatorial effluent efflorescent elephant. And a stripey square ball rolled away in a hexagonal formation before jumping into the swimming pool. Bowl then. But only wearing a bowler hat. Great. Now that is done the items can be imagined to be interested in inkwells'. Fantastical news for ten z frames, a beeswax curdle, a shrinkable curry, a curriculum carriage, and a force ten thousand gale singing a pleasant hymn. Loudly. While practising gymnastics with a fork lift truck and a lorry in a leotard. Z organizationally Z at forty one knots knitting ro eighteen balls of wool lugging loaded leaf loaves. X