Best Chomps Poems
"I saw some road kill on my way over," she said.
She had a horse laugh. "Just a dumb raccoon," she added.
I leapt over the sink and slapped her, hard.
Leaving my entire hand print on her cheek in pink.
Her prissy stuck-up lady face looked stunned.
She stood up, and ran off without any more incessant yapping.
My husband walked out of his man-cave just in time to
see her running flat out past the picture window, clutching her purse.
"Playing with the new neighbor?" He guessed.
I glared at him.
"The woman pushed her way in with a 'yoo hoo', She was not invited."
"She doesn't share your love for animals?" he guessed.
Oscar Opossum pushes open the cupboard doors under the sink, wanders out and chomps noisily from the dog bowl.
Sophie, our most spoiled cocker spaniel growls.
Reggie Raccoon runs over and slaps Sophie.
"Look what you are teaching them!"
My husband says to me, horrified.
"Reggie is a raccoon," I inform him. "She TAUGHT slapping to me!"
I doubt this nosy neighbor will be back,
Which is a perk because I truly and deeply
Like my woodland creatures much more than pushy humans.
silence when i open the door
silence when i close it again
no one to make a noisy fuss
no one to welcome me in
no one barks at the mailman
no one brings the little ball
no one chomps the squeaky toy
but love still comes to memories call
There's a no tell motel
Just up the road a bit
It cherishes its secrets
Like a horse chomps on its bits
The rooms are small and squallid
With a queen size mattress strewn
Across the age worn carpet
That has stories to exhume
The walls have needed painting
Some twenty years or more
But dingy is as dingy does
The guests don't ask for more
And that wall mounted television
No antenna there for years
But movies still play on demand
They don't star Richard Gere
That old man at the counter
He's leering at some folks
But twenty's buys his silence
For all us respectable folks.
Oh Goddess, Little Debbie,
Queen of all Saturated Fat,
Sometime of Swiss, which is called Roll,
Now of the delightful Court of Nutty Bars,
I respectfully esteem your Zebra Cakes,
I salute your Cosmic Brownies
And I kiss your empty boxes of Oatmeal Crème Pies.
It can’t be, Oh Goddess,
The tasty chomps of your Honey Buns,
Nor that of your delicious and calorie-laden Donut Sticks,
Which causes me now to wear plus sizes.
But since this is your respectful tribute, Oh Goddess,
It seems appropriate to me to proclaim
According to a greedy and overeating custom,
That I complete one roll of your Powdered Donuts.
Your face, Oh Goddess,
Is so adored that I placed a lovely tattoo
On each layer of my 4-layer belly,
Such as a memorial
Or the obsession
Or my adulation.
It is like the cow coming through chocolate-covered grass,
Yet a bit different,
For the grass is not chocolate-covered,
Only carpet and I am the cow.
Loving you, Oh Goddess,
I love all of your consequences;
But I imagine
That even if I did not love you
I would love the sweetness of even your crumbs,
And my fatness, shaped in the honor of all your snacks.
ALL HAIL LITTLE DEBBIE! :-)
An apple a day
Keeps the doctor away.
With the meal finished
My daughter is still hungry
An hour later, anyway.
Reprimanded by her mother,
Acquiesced by her father,
She chomps away silently,
Juicy brick after juicy brick.
She is never, ever sick.
little town of Oomswarshcknullphillbelly
here comes the masked man Groggyhelly
this man who wears a filthy mask shaped like telly
he is the masked man of Oomswarshcknullphillbelly
he, who chomps on chocolate chips and eats flavored jelly
likes to jump on little bulls and rides a super heli
who loves Miss Mikooshaw and hates Gingelly
Behold this masked man of Oomswarshcknullphillbelly
In the dead of winter,
as the melted snow turns
to ice, it is so cold
the rocks have teeth
and the logs perched
above the river dangle
long locks of icicle hair
in front of their faces
like teenagers hiding
their eyes from the world.
As the Earth’s numb breath
passes over, even the canal
covers itself with a single
opaque sheet etched
with crystal veins and
ripples frozen in place
that catch and distort
the reflections of the trees
in the faded light like
an old leaded window.
Nothing escapes its bite.
It blows its bitterness across
the wide water and chomps
at the edges of the icy shore,
shattering it into thousands
of glistening shards
that rhythmically clink
together like chandeliers
swaying in an empty room
with open windows.
Whenever I feel the dirge
Moments, days that pass without hope
My pleasure begins to emerge
The moment I pick up the old fishing pole
So much negativity is purged
When the bait lady smiles at me
This special day I think I’ll splurge
Not one kind of bait, but three
Paths to the river and ocean diverge
A sense of glee follows me to the bridge
As onto the river banks I emerge
Below the emerald pine tree ridge
Grinning now, gone is the scourge
As I cast my line, a manatee passes by
“Enjoy your swim, my friend,” I urge
And into the water my line does fly
The song in my heart finds its way to my lips
As I watch the bait and hook submerge
A redfish chomps, the pole swiftly dips
At one with nature, I converge
Reeling in the fish, placing hands on her fins
The Hallelujah chorus begins!
*Entry for Frank's "What Turns You On?" contest
There once was an old geezer named Bob
who loved to munch on corn on the cob.
But since he wore false teeth
kernels got underneath:
and so he'd turn them down with a sob.
Sitting on the can, he read an ad
touting a brand new fancy doodad:
So he pulled up his pants
got some dental implants,
and chomps more corn than he ever had.
. . . high noon sun
locust chomps
own shadow . . .
Around bushes, trees and pathways, race two lively squirrels
Scurrying speedily up and down playing games of tag together
Spreading its shaggy tail one would sit up tall by taking a halt
Prying off caps, happily chomps on healthy delicious acorns
With flashy chirps a lively Scrub-Jay pair takes off from an oak branch
Swoops down taking sharp turns performing an animated vocal dance
Flying from branch to branch spreading gorgeous blue and gray wingspan
Supports propagation by harvesting and hiding seeds and acorns
Migrated dark eyed Juncos enhance the beauty with their ground-hops
Taking leaps, flit low in underbrush to relish tasty leaves and grass
Lunging forward and hopping backward brown towhees tap dance
Pounce on foliage and berries by scratching their feet to feed on
Tosses of nutty, delightful acorns attract large turkey flocks
Roaming around scraping ground for food under leaf litter and lawns
Clucking and pecking they search and stroll the whole backyard
I watch the visitors with grateful heart filled with nature’s mystical calm
Immeasurable maturation profoundly
transformed thy Shana Punim
within whose corporeal femininity
gravitas resonates and doth hum
whose unbelievable transition, now
follows the beat of her own drum
approximately four years ago,
thee second and youngest born
daughter didst squawk and crow
aforementioned fledging eagerly,
instinctively, and naturally clamoring ergo
summoning unbendable biological
propensity to grow
which, she recognized
to this papa, a regular Joe
who realized, he did not know,
the painful necessity Brexiting
"FAKE" moors whar
family cows did low
aforementioned hyperbolic fabrication,
albeit this poe
whit did cavalierly usurp license to show,
(within the third eye blind mind's)
pace of autonomy a father cannot slow
as call of the wild for kinder
(progeny) chomps at figurative bit lest...
regret (like this papa), she will
like an albatross around her neck,
thus our twittering youngest
offspring experienced beck,
and call (declaration) of independence
from being shielded
(more so sunken) within dreck,
an abysmal living situation
(with me and the missus),
whose own respective impetus
to get away from hen peck
king parents, which crimped,
cost, and castrated, or effect
similar stunted growth on mine
body, mind and spirit thereof
until ultimatums got hurled at me
extremely unpleasant twee
mend us vitriolic bile lashed out hee
ping loathsome spittle at this free
damned sole Harris son, who overstayed,
and wore out welcome Matt, now re
vile ling forsaken opportunities
forever leaving my mental, psychological
social, et cetera state to atrophy!
few chomps from his words
unfold all hues in cloudburst
real photographer
Jan 29,2022 1.56pm
Gryposaurus monumentensis
Gryposaurus monumentensis
The herd came to the edge of the new forest the leader turned and almost
humishly smiled at his flock like a deacon on a SUNDAY picnic day in June.
The forest is very inviting he seemed to say we lost very few monumentensis
today along the way it seemed as iff the largest predator alive was stalking us but
the open spaces kept him away they thrive in hidden jungle spaces and eat as
many as they can in any one given day and the Gryposaurus
began to sway from side to side and to eat there way inside the forest line by line
by line and at least there must have been almost close to four hundred of them.
And that is how the Arizona Desert was born.
By the thundering chomps of the Gryposaurus monumentensis
[I really must learn to read the contest’s rules
before writing the damned poem...
What follows is not twelve lines!]
It was a good morning until
My face was shoved under the grill
With only six lives left within me
This charcoaled cat shot up the chimney
I fell from the roof and went splat
A whopping great weight squashed me flat
But that isn't all, there’s a hole in the wall
That’s roughly the shape of a cat
I’m silent and so I can’t wail
I’ve got a rope tied to my tail
At least that dog wont hear me holler
The other end’s tied to his collar
Out, through the hole in the house
A tyrant the shape of a mouse
He struts right by showing no fear
And chomps on that sleeping dog’s ear
I’m running like mad... on the spot
I think maybe I’ve had me lot
The rope snaps and I make a dash
And crash into mountains of trash
I’m stuck here with bins for my bed
And a fish skeleton on my head
It was a good morning until
Jerry went in for the kill