Best Chock Full Poems
In a gorgeous meadow chock full of butterflies and daylilies there lived a
sassy happy beautiful dragonfly. She was loved by the tulips, roses, and coneflowers. The monarchs revered her, seeing the joy she brought to the meadow. This little dragonfly did her best to fit in, nurturing each aspect of the meadow as was her right.
pretty dragonfly
spreading love to the flowers
expecting nothing
*****To the naked EYE, this poem may seem like gibberish,
but I assure you it is loaded with 24 palindromes,
3 palindrome phrases, 1 hidden palindrome phrase,
and is chock full with enormous wordplay...
oh and one more palindrome in this description.
Can you find more? I challenge you word freaks!*****
____SATAN OSCILLATE MY METALLIC SONATAS____
Last night, around eleven or so, I decided to paint a pink castle.
To my dismay, on display, is what looks more like a pink *******.
Picasso would've been so proud!
Today, upon recording nothing short of a colossal debacle,
I've chosen to
utilize the eyes of a hostile apostle.
Tossing docile scribble, I'm scribing.
Describing life like a diatribe conniving REVIVER at a revival.
LIVE EVIL!
Palindrome EYE to the side of my tribe.
Get in line, standing at the hands of HANNA.
PULL UP.
RISE AND VOTE SIR!
EYE
LEVEL
to
NUN'S
BOOB.
WOW!
We OTTO-matically
POP a PEEP at NOON!
DAD got so damn mad he DID the DEED
and split three XANAX with his MADAM and MOM!
(ALA the ABBA GIG way back in them AHA kookie KOOK days)
So anyways...
Back to peek hassle!
Do ya' think he might like ta' take a stab at my STATS?
*****(this was fun as fun can be:
hope you have half as much fun with it as I did:)*****
~JSLambert
I can no longer hold my tongue
I’ve got my knockers and my mockers
Oh, and I can’t forget the blockers
So you badmouth me on FB behind my back
Let rip with your vitriol and go on the attack
With your false humility and humble claims
You are chock full of bull crap, playing games
Well…
I’m telling you this
Stop taking the piss
Here is my butt. I'd be remiss
if I didn't offer it for you to kiss
Go ahead skunk; make my day
release your stinking spray!
Oh, there's just one thing I have to say...
I don’t do 'two-faced book' anyway!
Judgmental people and haters contest
sponsored by Brenda Chiri
A note to whoever is being so nasty to Robert … you must be jealous of his talent for writing poetry and you should be ashamed of your behaviour!
08-11-17
There are plenty of Ayn Rand followers around
but there is something called "Art for Art's Sake"
I have gotten paid for writing - even sold some poems
However, I feel that Art for Art's sake
is not a lot of nonsense
Poetry can liberate the spirit
and bring to life feelings that money just can't buy
So does Chock Full of Nuts coffee
However, I don't drink coffee
preferring to mellow out with some tea
"the green kind"
I certainly wish success to the Green Pavillion poets
All the time realizing
that
writing is a great escape from the troubles of life
I. also realize that there are some
very great poets out there in the darkness
who never get up and read their work
who will become known in the future long after we have returned to dust
chlorophyll greenery, Spring’s
creamery daffodils chock-full of light.
bees alight; honey wings.
violette clematis rife —
the ribbon wraps ‘round my neighbor’s mailbox.
her preserve rocks wildlife.
the southern cottonwood tree
sheds seeds of tumbleweed-like fluff, blowing
in warm wind; swing drifts free.
sights and sounds all around us.
He darkens our world, likewise lights it up
God fills our cups no muss.
the music of the starshine,
the invitation of the moon halo —
romance slow; paintbrush pines.
5/24/2020
the englyn byr cwca is a Welsh form that uses both end and internal rhymes
poem comprised of tercets (from one tercet to infinity) or 3-line stanzas
first line has 7 syllables, second has 10, and third has 6
lines 1 and 3 end rhyme with each other
line 2 rhymes with a syllable somewhere in the middle of the 3
Of all the flamin’ rotten luck I said alighting from me van;
kicked the wheel holding the flat to upset our touring plan.
We’re miles away from anywhere as I rummage through our gear,
for underneath our chock full load the spare is hidden here.
Then horror of all horrors, I cursed and swore then spat,
I’d forgot to check the spare and that too is flamin’ flat,
So we’ve ‘gotta’ wait for someone (which isn't often on this road).
Two hours we boiled in the sun before its back to travelling mode.
Another problem surfaced then for as the sun did set;
having no idea where we were and not accommodated yet.
In our headlights there's a change of luck - ‘B & B’s’ a welcome sight.
Me and the missus drove in hoping there’s room here tonight.
The old farmer with his torchlight walked us down the back.
With the beam he pointed toward a dirty run down shack.
The doorway’s full of cobwebs; windows were broken too.
He chased out a big goanna saying "Now it should be fit for you".
"Where's the toilet?” Asked the missus - “I usually visit through the night."
"I never thought of that” he said. “I'll make sure that you’re right".
He came back with a bucket, and said, "If you want privacy,
you will have to take the bucket behind the pepper tree".
Next morning just on sunrise the farmer knocks and says
"Hope I didn't wake you up - would you like bacon and eggs?”
"Yes please" we said together. “Can we have some coffee too?”
"Do you both take milk?" The farmer asked. We both replied "Thank-you".
As we packed up across he came to pick up our dirty plates.
I told him that his breakfast was one that highly rates.
"Your coffee's great" the missus said "You and your wife should take a bow".
"Why thanks” the farmer said. “Now where’s the bucket - I've ‘gotta’ milk the
cow".
The Churches are empty!
But the bars are chock full?
Walmart, almost a new religion
unto itself.
It's parishioners, adoring cheap
junk on its shelves!
Few would even think to contribute
to any ministry.
But spend thousands on hair dyes,
and cosmetic dentistry.
We adore our bodies more than God.
He is old-hat, while we are so mod.
We attend sporting events, like mad,
true addictive clods.
The Bible? Oh, my, that is terribly old
school.
We think Google is God and provides
us with ultimate truth and rules.
5/9/2019
Eggs are white - a little chubby chicken is yellow
Easter egg - chock full of colorful candy
Sticky red sugar lips give you a sweet kiss
Old snow spots melts on the ground
Dandelion scatters gold in the trenches
Easter bunny jumping out from nowhere
with chocolate spots on the white fluffy coat
Crocus and daffodils showing us spring with joy
Life sparking - reigniting
Small buds unfold and dances in the spring sun
- Happy Easter - Enjoy Spring :)
15.04.2014
A-L Andresen :)
There's an antique red barn
Sits atop the hill
And a small little pond
Chock full of blue-gill
There's old rusty cars
Which haven't ran in years
And a hundred year old house
Once manufactured by Sears
It's loaded full of memories
It's filled with lots of charm
It's a place I know and Love
It's all there...On Grandma's Farm
Used to go there every Sunday
From as far back as I can remember
Sledding down the hill
In the snow come December
I Loved it out at Grandmas
Playing with toy tractors in the sand
Going to help split wood
Just to lend a helping hand
I Loved it winter, spring and summer
But my favorite time of all
Was when the leaves all turned
The wonderful colors of fall
I was carefree and happy
The world was free from harm
Way back when I was a kid
Out On My Grandma's Farm
© 2011 Kevin Stock
I’m dining with my cousin Giles
Who disclosed he’d terrible piles
He’s wriggly and twitchy
Cos his butt’s so itchy
His visage is sad, there’s no smiles
He’d tried using soft margarine
This process had just made him scream
So he did not linger
With his index finger
But Anusol worked like a dream
I said it was my understanding
That surgeon ‘s do hemorrhoid banding
But if he has it done
Sitting down he may shun
On this subject I won’t be expanding!
Next time I saw my Cousin Giles
They’d successfully removed his piles
So he can sit down
No trace of a frown
And Giles is chock full of smiles
10/09/21
moved around so fast
outran traces of my past
contacts I'd amassed
with little hesitation
lost sight of situation
not stabilizing
life without compromising
'til next uprising
left holding tight to what was
searching out the next just cause
tangled up in lies
slim prospects can agonize
tear through the disguise
certainly no going back
when all planning goes off-track
some beliefs abide
because of truths which they hide
past acts they've denied
everything and nothing count
souls each taxed by right amount
my own mother's faith
premise easy to forsake
seemed too profit based
afterlife but a cheap trick
fake carrot attached to stick
relativity
defines things differently
with more symmetry
increasing agility
throughout the totality
time a state of mind
often used to try to find
nature's true design
of a mass always the same
yet constantly rearranged
where do we reside
in universe vast and wide
peer out from inside
closer to edge than center
current knowledge can't render
dark skies filled with voids
the cosmologist enjoys
and black hole destroys
this universe more or less
is chock full of nothingness
science lights the way
to where we headed these days
bits, bytes, down runways
send voyages toward Oort cloud
seeing how heavens are plowed
ride the bleeding edge
with data mining we dredge
what Einstein alleged
learning even photons bend
in order to reach their end
The couple were upset at divorce court,
Chock Full of Nuts or Tasters Choice,
wife started to bawl,
this was the last straw,
fighting over coffee grounds for divorce.
12-17-16
You’re chock full of kingsize bull crap
Though female you are not a chap
A well-practiced liar
Whose pants are on fire
Your vitriol I’d love to zap
Just little things make you so ratty
You’ll spit venom, gee you’re darn catty
With a scowl and a frown
You will put good folk down
With hindsight I think you’re quite batty
Your language you need to remodel
I’m fed up of reading your twaddle
You can’t leave folk alone
Like a dog with a bone
Try using that brain in your noddle
May I offer a little advice
If you cannot say anything nice
Keep your mouth fully closed
Your bull crap’s been exposed
Go back to your fool’s paradise
King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina
01/05/22
There once was a leprechaun named Arnie,
Who hailed from the village of Killarney.
When his belly was sated,
Said the lass that he dated:
"You are chock-full of Guinness and blarney!"
Entry for Kim Merryman's "Luck of the Irish Limerick Contest"
(14 March 2017)
Each subsequent process of cell division
i.e. mitosis sans biological parlance
erodes chromosomal cap re: telomere if u can envision
some juncture senescence prevails –
apoptosis no chance to prevent natural degradation
and one alternate decision opting to bail out
subsequent etching chronological age –
averse at a glance to mortal male, who decries death breed’s frisson.
Thus disallowing healthy end of life discussion
once tutu shed rescinding plenti more figurative song and dance routines
final curtain call closes existence, where grim reaper jeers with derision
at attempts to thwart cessation of mortality,
whereby scientists seek to en-hance longevity –
even exhuming the dead (or thawing deceased
from suspended animation) and experimenting
with nonanesthetic induced incision.
To rewind expired meter fostering demise after staying alive –
with lance a lot chock full of chemical concoctions (hatched at round table)
to revive corpse as ultimate mission.
Yet, any effort to transcend genetic bulwark engendered
from bulge in pants (that initially unleashes biological reproduction
viz zit head via seminal swimmer in tandem with merging ova)
based on advantageous coupling favored position,
ought not be tampered with
lest havoc t’will rent asunder ranting rabid quest per final course
since egg versus chic hen ala kin collision.
Inscribed within DNA blueprint from extinct cousins of uncles and aunts
prepping monster to burst from Ray Kurzweil laboratory
whereby to halt recalcitrant son or daughter spanning cradle to grave
invariably yields zombie, spells monstrous FRUITION!