Best Breeches Poems
I’ve always been restless since I was a kid,
to settle near drives me insane.
I’ll just throw together the best that I can
what I own and be gone again.
Boxes long packed I had stacked in a shed,
are obsolete, so I feel that I have
to lighten my load for my road ahead,
then discover an old photograph.
Stopped in my tracks, I sit on the bench;
I look deeply into the face.
My eyes go all misty as I travel back,
to a little old weatherboard place.
Where I remember the warmth in the kitchen,
on those cold and wet winter nights.
Hot steaming soup; the open wood fire,
and the flickering kerosene lights.
How the family was close knit together.
We hadn’t even heard of T.V.
Chatting while eating our Sunday roast;
neighbour visits for hot scones and tea.
Bare footed we ran through the paddocks,
seeking out mud or a puddle.
If we came down with an ailment,
the remedy - a kiss and a cuddle.
Patched up were my breeches and socks.
Most ‘jumpers’ were ‘hand me down’.
I was so proud of my ‘new’ clothes;
showing everyone who came around.
Rabbit was our staple diet.
Trapped in the bush at the back of our home.
‘Chooks’ we kept for the eggs;
only eaten if we killed one of our own.
Blinking, I came back to earth;
took a breath and so pleased to find,
what I believed was forgotten,
is deeply entrenched in my mind.
Dormant I wait for the moment.
Something releases memories I have.
A tear falls and darkens a spot,
on Mother’s faded photograph.
Categories:
breeches, memory, mother,
Form:
Rhyme
An old gal applied to join Mensa
Gee she couldn’t be any denser
She went in the wrong door
On the thirty third floor
And there she enrolled as a fencer
When attending her first fencing class
A man scored a hit on her huge ass
She screamed out so loud
It drew quite a crowd
She cannot abide failure – its crass!
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
She hollered and screamed for a medic
I swear it was worse than a dead duck
one without any wings
oh the horror she sings
she's much more than dense she's pathetic
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
She swore that she really could spell
And in math she did surely excel
But once she felt pain
All she did was complain
And whined as her sore butt did swell.
WRITTEN BY CHRIS GREEN
That old gal then became a method actor
but one thing soon became a huge factor
she forgot all her lines
her mentality declines
now she sputters like a John Deere tractor
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Her butt was so sore she bought leeches
Gently placing them in her breeches
To suck out the bruise
We could hear her oooh's
I felt sorry for the poor creatures
Her butt was so big like a whale
all that was missing was it's tail
so they stuck a flag up her ****
called it the new Khyber pass
she went a whiter shade of pale.
WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS
"Am I smart?" is what she kept asking
In glory she hoped to be basking.
Suddenly she farted.
The whole room departed.
Now finding fresh air is their tasking.
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
She sat for the test with all smiles
Filled out the forms and the files
But she spelled her name wrong
Became twisted of tongue
And was thrown to the crocodiles.
WRITTEN BY RICHARD D SEAL
07-17-17
Seems the old gal was a talented tart
Clearing the room with but one single fart
Wiping their eyes
All those wise guys
Soundly applauded her flatulent art
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
07-18-17
Categories:
breeches, humorous, irony,
Form:
Limerick
BLUEBERRY BOAT
I’m going to sea in a blueberry boat
With cellophane sails on cinnamon mast
It could be cold so I’ll take a coat
And In case of a leak some Elastoplast
We shall sail on seas of blueberry blue
with never a clash and no mismatch
You will hardly see us unless you view
With spectacles infrared attach
When cauliflower clouds are in the sky
They shall give us a satiating entree
Then of course the dessert will be blueberry pie
With a creamy cumulus topping soufle
I’ll send you a postcard wherever we land
On finest rice paper so you can then eat
my words, I can recommend them and
You will have a conscience that’s clear and sweet
A life on the sea may not be all calm
The weather can lead you a merry dance
But in case of storms I will have no qualm
With a spare pair of blueberry underpants
So to all you jack tars I say ahoy!
With a yo ho ho and avast below!
When you’re near come across on a breeches buoy
Share blueberry rum on our little bateau
Categories:
breeches, nonsense,
Form:
Rhyme
After all is said and done, cliché style
(Forgive me if this does not rhyme, I'm moving
Past rhyme for the sake of rhyme)
You will have gone away rich and returned for more
Because you thought you knew what you needed
To feel loaded, fulfilled and needed
You thought you knew your needs
And had articulated and defined them to a tee
You knew all the similes that ran parallel to your feelings
But those were nothing more than thoughts
Which is why a mind is such a terrible thing to have
You thought
You knew the right ingredients for happiness
Just the right mix
To make laughter and an electrifying smile
A happy ever after which, you thought
Existed in cash and came contained
In bags of gold marked with silver linings
which you carried a thousand miles
Only to end up clutching a plastic smile
Because all the nonsense you collected turned out
To have a mind of its own
So, you met yourself returning from that place and thinking
Was I better off before I became better off
Or did I believe a lie? Of course, you were drunk then
And you certainly are drunk now
Except you have no idea what it is. You're in the dark like me
And even now I hear a chorus of ayes and nays
And someone letting out a wry laugh and shouting amen
Because the bottom line is this; this will resonate
Even if it doesn't. I will let you be the judge of that
Folks trying to nod and shake their heads at the same time
Take it easy people, this is exactly what you think it is
Name it what you will. If the cap fits, I suggest you wear it
And so, cliché style, you returned
To the place from which you had returned
Because enough was not enough. You wanted more
But needed less of more and more of less
And fortunately, or unfortunately, about this you were clueless
All that glittered was just a bag full of humus
And once you admitted this to yourself a new light shone
And you wondered how come you'd missed this all along
But couldn't dwell on that because you had better things to do
In the end you gave away all the matters that had mattered
And in half breaths cursed and muttered
Words and phrases too precious to repeat in this space
In the end you were richer without the riches
And much more comfortable without the restraining breeches
From a society that had always wanted to define and control your mind
Categories:
breeches, perspective, philosophy, rap, slam,
Form:
Free verse
A dance competition went horribly wrong.
During an Irish gig and a Highland fling song.
The gigger flung his foot out in front.
The flinger went flying, taking the brunt.
When the two crash landed in a heap.
The spectators gasped in their seats.
The flinger's kilt was around his head.
"I apologise for nay underwear" he said.
The gigger of course had breeches on.
His modesty preserved but his chances all gone.
For tripping the flinger he was the dismissed one.
So the Highland Fling flinger that was flung won.
Categories:
breeches, celebrity, conflict, dance,
Form:
Couplet
This man was a laborer, and in vacuum cleaner sales.
He came a long way from Pontypridd in South Wales.
From humble beginnings as Thomas Jones Woodward,
Tom Jones has been one of the greatest singers heard.
With the early sixties British Invasion,
he became an entertainment sensation.
With his Edwardian billowing shirts and tight breeches on stage,
among his fans, Jones has been quite the rage.
Hit songs “It’s Not Unusual” and “Green Green Grass of Home” brought success.
Other hits include “Delilah”, “Love Me Tonight”, and “Daughter of Darkness”.
Jones once had his own television show.
He became a star millions of people would know.
He has always been a prominent man on the scene.
His career was topped with knighthood by the Queen.
Tom Jones has set a fine example in his day.
His fabulous career continues up to today.
Thanks to Tom Jones' website and wikipedia.org for the information I obtained to write this poem.
Categories:
breeches, dedication, music, career,
Form:
Rhyme
The blacksmith a gunsmith he says he is, therewith aligned with Lilith
Giving birth to death and pestilence, his allegiance is to his conscience, which is
Greed.
See how he and the rhythm of his essence is corrupt,
So allow me to interrupt his rhythm for I am, the brain of the wordsmiths stem
Verbally I strike until I reaches and breeches spinal cord, so let this be a scripted record of how my words can make you bow.
So can you, let alone will you, still go, toe to toe with me, in this
On who is the righteous smith?
Categories:
breeches, hip hop, how i
Form:
Free verse
A spider drank cider and was legless at breakfast
Now this placid arachnid with a shoddy wee body
Asked weevils so evil if they each had a needle
Could they just for a joke smoke while they poked
At erudite mites with myopic eyesight
And bedridden black beetles who bawled noon and night
At bow legged bees who could bumble and fumble
With wasps that were dishy but got into a tizzy
Watching high jumping fleas pee in the sea
Beside conniving cockroaches who approached in stagecoaches
Near trails of pale snails drinking buckets of ale
Sold by charming blow flies wearing spotted bow ties
In a dark damp old cellar with an ant storyteller
Whose sight had declined until he was blind
Who made up strange tales of fat whales with sharp nails
That fed on a diet of cat, sprat and rat
Carrying small bugs who never gave hugs
To horn-tailed yellow midges wearing red tartan breeches
And whopper leafhoppers sucking monster gobstoppers
So the spider could laugh like a three legged giraffe
And begin to grin at the insects chagrin
Categories:
breeches, nonsense,
Form:
Light Verse
A pant-less lady
liked to go places
she was rather bawdy
and liked to loosen her laces
she was spied by a grandee
he pulled up his braces
then gave her lots of brandy
alas he could not undo his breeches
A pant-less lady
liked to go places
one has to admit she is barmy
as her wares she discloses
Categories:
breeches, fun, humor, humorous,
Form:
Verse
The gooseberry bush, a thing of beauty,
bow to my lady, bow to my lord
The homely hearth and sty for stock,
Bread for my bairns, fat for their chins
The cottage loom, silks for my lady,
Breeches for my lord
Work and sweat for those without land,
Bow to my lady, bow to my lord.
Categories:
breeches, political,
Form:
Verse
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
Categories:
breeches, childhood, funny, war, world,
Form:
Rhyme
In the garden populated with flowers, red and budded,
Resort robins birds, with inflated fluffy feathers.
They fall in waves between the grass gushing in green
And the impetus of a small purifying pinkish river.
Somewhere in the far little barks that gleam
are resting with oars freely loose; Infants across,
in jackets navy-blue and decent hats,
kick around wide wheel with legs and sticks.
And their peaceful mothers waving in the sun white
handkerchiefs at nurses with wines and baskets overflowed
with food; wide dresses gently flared craw the pure grass,
back and pelvis are stretched drowsy upon accumbent canvases.
The gentlemen with flat cylinder hats: aristocrats and patricians,
undulate hair with radiance of gold, chested,
count cash incomes and score the points in game of cards.
Their coats carelessly abandoned as in modest ensemble of black.
Nearer are all solar deeds, the high stems
and underbushes; pekmez dropped on broad leaves
and bottle of beer – spilling gold with honeycomb like
soul, swings inept, far from the nosy flocks.
White shirt, tailcoat of tricolor velvet, flit about
loudly in a clash with shoes and jabots. The stockings
fly across, breeches slip, underpants reveal!
ideally undressed and with an exquisite moan in reverie:
The two male bodies.
Categories:
breeches, art, love, nature, romance,
Form:
Free verse
Sonnet 19
Have you ever noticed
the gentle tone
in your
voice
your peace and promise
to make a good
choice
your kindness and honor
is a work of
art
so beautiful to twist
the sinews
of a gentleman's
heart
I would go to war for
you my
love
I shall go with such
grace as a
dove
my love for you will
never fall
apart
put a knife in my neck and
a bullet in my
heart
even an arrow near my
breeches
anything to prevent you from
those death- sounding
screeches
so push through your pain
and continuous
strife
I would keep you
smiling if I
could
because believe me I
would
Categories:
breeches, love,
Form:
Sonnet
Imp-Each-Ment-Air-Ditty
Once peach of a Teach on beach tried to preach
The art of closing the reach in a breach
The Coast-Guard drew his gun
Shot a hole in the bun
Now Teach leaks through breeches during Speech
Teach then placed bets on a horse called Leech
Before Whistle-Blower could cry « Impeach ! »
Leech took off in anger
To smite Whistle-Blower
House closed down for lack of bets on Leech
Whistle-Blower held breath to teach impeach
Upper House closed the breach to foist Leech
Said Teach : « No more bets, please ! »
Leech learned to trot with ease
Then Teach rode Leech without a screech
Teach then said : « Place all bets out-of-reach !
This race will take first place : Each-to-Each ! »
Twenty-two trillion debt
The pit is full and wet
Whose finger will dam dike in the breach ?
(to be continued)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, December 17, 2019
Categories:
breeches, america, conflict, humor, poverty,
Form:
Limerick
Many years ago,
Before yours or my time,
When the only way to
Travel to and fro
Was not with automobiles,
Or cars or trains,
Or even planes.
But with a horse or a donkey.
This happened in the villages
In Greece, donkeys were a
Cheap mode of transport,
But stubbornly would sit
On their paunches and snarl
Showing yellow teeth,
There was no way,
The donkey would budge
Another step, on that day
The aristocracy from
Athens With horses,
And their breeches and braces,
Made fun of the peasants
And donkeys, what monkeys!
But one Athenian
Stopped by the old
Man with his donkey
The poor donkey was saddled,
With so much,
His walking was wonky!
Hey my friend,
Said the city man,
To the old peasant
Would you sell me
A pheasant,
And your donkey
Would he carry the same
load for me?
Of course he would but
There is one thing you should know
He don’t look so good!
Said the honest old man!
But the buyer ignored this
And put a bridle
On the poor animal, and
Tied him with rope to his saddle!
A week passed, and there
Suddenly appeared the Athenian
Who had bought the donkey.
Hey mister he said,
Did you know your donkey was blind,
Yes, but told you,
It was you who misunderstood
“He don’t look so good!’
Categories:
breeches, horse,
Form:
Free verse