Best Buff Poems
Old Santa Claus is in the know now
he's changing with the times;
now, he speaks out against the GMO's
saying toying with foods a crime.
Santa hungers for organic kale
turns his nose up at cookies.
He's tired, he said, of being a whale
and loves the extra nookie!
See, Mrs. Claus now brags about him
points at his six-pack ab's
She's bought a Ninja Pro,and a gym
hates additives from labs.
There's No problem with the chimney's now
he could work for the Cirque du Soleil
Yes, Santa's on a fitness kick, wow,
the reindeer all shout yeah!
Under each tree Claus leaves sports gear
and ropes to mountain climb
new ice skates and snow ski's appear
with fruit baskets full of limes.
Buff Claus is dressed by Tom Ford now
in a fitted suit of red velvet
boots, and bow tie of black allowed
and a snowy silk shirt to sell it.
Contest: What's Up with Santa
It's December 19th and still no white stuff
This ole earth has decided enough is enough
We're messing things up
Sitting here on our butts
Soon Canadians will be walking around in the buff
© Jack Ellison 2015
'Twas a dark and stormy night", the whodunit book began!
I reckon that is music to the ears of an avid mystery fan.
To curl up with a book by the fire on a dark and stormy night,
With the lights dimmed low, it sets the mood perfectly right!
The corpus was found by the maid sprawled upon the floor,
And nigh him lay an elephant gun with a fifty caliber bore!
It appeared fairly obvious as to how the feller met his doom.
However, in such criminal cases, 'tis best not to presume!
Enter now the debonair detective, a pipe-smoking chap,
Wearing a suit of tweed, sporting a deer stalkers cap.
In a practiced pose he mused with his chin in his hand,
Pondering what miscreant brought this feller to his end!
Could it have been the butler who did the dastardly deed,
Or the ne'er-do-well brother-in-law in a pique of greed?
Perhaps it was the work of a jealous, jilted lover.
He searched for every clue as over the body he did hover.
Aha! The astute constable noted there was no bullet hole or gore,
But nearby lay an empty bottle shattered about the floor!
Alas, dear reader, what did him in was no foe or friend.
'Twas that deadly, demon rum that brought him to "THE END!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Exhausted I am, filling boxes and stuff
Moving day's coming quite soon enough
It's happening again
Too often my friends
Love to settle down, just hang out in the buff
© Jack Ellison 2015
Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Working out like a fool every day
Wait till the girlies get a load of this bod
My gorgeous physique on display
Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Girlies will want to slurp from my bowl
Trying to get in on some of the action
“Hang on now, show some control!”
Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
They'll all get a piece sooner or later
Surely can understand their excitement
I'll soon be one pumped up operator
Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Alway knew I had animal magnetism
But I've taken that to a whole new level
Complimenting charm with witticism
Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Working with the weights, a real jock
Soon be on the cover of “Muscle Power”
Great physique and abs like a rock!
(chuckle)
I like a good chase in a scene
To me that’s everything
The plot
Has to be hot
And the actors
Must know their places their spot
The music in a movie creates the
Entire vibe
It’s what brings the movie
Alive
The wardrobe is of utmost importance
It’s the love of a movie, the romance
That heightens the performance
The wardrobe the cast wore in Dynasty, Mahogany
And even Harlem Nights
Was sugar to my eyes and kept me
Mesmerized
Making a movie is similar to a construction site
It must be built
Like Grandmas quilts
It’s more than
Camera, lights and action
It must leave its Buffs with total
Satisfaction
Believe it or not, I'm running out of limerick stuff
Thought it would last forever, sure thought I had enough
But recently my brain
Is causing me some pain
Too many distractions such as young sweeties in the buff
As usual!!!
© Jack Ellison 2016
It's December 3rd and still no white stuff
This ole earth has decided we've had enough
We're messing things up
Sitting here on our butts
Soon Canadians will be walking around in the buff
Feel silly today which is not unusual
It's a brand new day and the world is beautiful
Love life and stuff
Sitting here in the buff
Passersby are thinking I'm a wee bit delusional
A jingle wrestling a tune
A tune
A tune
A wave just cracked
A wave just cracked
A whole book full of notes
A’ have! -How about that? Art imitates
And
And in my face
And in my face was this beautiful
And in my face was this beautiful painting cause
This beautiful painting made me realize
How important it was
And made me realize how important it was
And reminisces
Grey cloth official looking cost me $10.00
Now I'm sharing this with you
And she did say
And she did say 'you already
And still they look
And still they look for
And still they look for
Another cobbled verandah
Another limed Tokay
Art imitates life
Art imitates life
As I speak to you
As I speak to you
As we always have
As they speak
As they speak
was
was
Bane bough buff
i watch my diet, my weight,
lift weights, jog and sprint,
do crunching sit-ups,
shape and sculpt myself
into a glistening statue
of health, of youthfulness,
hoping to stay that way
even for the shortest while
before i shall join the ashes
when this dream is over,
with a smile and crossed fingers
HUFF AND BUFF
Life can be rough and tough you may huff and buff struggle and work. You may not get time for yourself. Trust me toss a coin. Heads you will suffer, suffer and suffer. Tails you will somehow survive it all till the end and life would be a structure of what agony you had left being in time.
:-Mawra.J
At times I sit and watch my finger nails grow
Then suddenly something inspires me and away I go
Writing silly stuff
About girlies in the buff
I wind up getting all sweaty and I start to glow
Someone is probably doing an aria,
that labored shrill fit for the opera.
Another soul croons a lilting lullaby,
oohs and aahs rising up to the sky.
Undoubtedly that's a loud trombone,
solidly played, a no-nonsense boom.
Surely I hear a lone trumpet blowing,
pfffttt, that unmistakable errie sound.
A lush symphony of timeless sounds
enlivening my mid-morning rounds.
A poor cleaner-turned-classics buff,
making a living in a public restroom!
When I was fifty-five I lost weight and got into shape
Exercised to the point of near ridiculous, and looked great
My daughter said “Mom! You are buff!”
I had never been buff before
It felt terrific.
Some days I wish I was fifty-five again
I was never sick, I was super healthy
I felt great, and I was eating right
No cookies, donuts or other empty calorie foods
Not sure what happened but I have gone to pot
I think it was the cravings for chocolate and peanut butter.
I can hardly look at lettuce or celery now
Not as healthy, but comfy in my sweatpants and recliner