Best Couch Poems
The cute figurine I am looking at now
is one of a couple at home on a couch.
The guy, at the end of the couch, comfortably
relaxes, a pillow upon his left knee.
With her head on the pillow there at his knee,
his gal reclines sideways while they watch TV.
On the top of the couch is perched a white cat,
which I picture them now and then giving a pat!
In front of the couch of this sweet figurine
is their loyal puppy, completing the scene.
How nice it is to be comfy cozy
snuggling together, a picture so rosy.
How precious the moments in one’s family,
for with those we love is the best place to be!
The link to copy and paste if you care to see this figurine, which costs $75 to buy!!!
http://www.outdoorlivingshowroom.com/figurines/precious-moments-4003175-love-couple-cuddling-on-couch-figurine_g748992.html
For the Precious Moment the figurines Poetry Contest of Nathan a
Just a little bit rustic, torn up and old
bet you can imagine the stories I've told
come take you a seat
You're in for a treat
I'm still soft and comfy, but a little bit bold
Dear Lordy, what have you done
this loony spouse given me…
he rants and TV- clicks all night
much like a freakish banshee!
Obsessed with horror movies
remote control is life's drug:
This model needs rebooting,
It's time for urgent de-bug.
11/11/2017
Written for Kevin Shaw's Surreal and Daft
I visited his grave, but the grave was gone!
What? I know spirits travel but this just seems wrong.
There's a big hole where the grave used to be.
I think someone is playing a big prank on me.
On second thought, this is just what he would do
to have a big laugh, all his spirit friends, too.
I rushed home to see if it was in the back yard,
under the pear tree he would loudly disregard.
It's not there, but between the roses, it might squeeze.
Or under the mulberry that he knows makes me sneeze.
Or inside the house, oh please not beside the couch!
or under a table, so I'll have to crouch!
I open the closet expecting to jump,
not there either, but I spy a big lump
sitting in his "couch potato" chair;
yep, that's where he'd put it, if anywhere.
Not there either, now I'm becoming confused.
Raced back to the grave and it's still not being used.
I checked the marker on the grave next to his.
Why he moved it, I can't fathom, but there it is!
(This poem needs some explaining, I understand.
The grave is where it was, nothing done underhand.
A new one will go in next to the one she misplaced.
This woman got confused. Could be she's a tad spaced.)
Couch Potato
You are sitting on my couch, now.
You are watching TV with my kid.
Yes, she is old enough to sit there.
She is technically, All Grown Up!
That is not the issue.
Be careful,
You are ever being…
watched.
For what?
The way you are;
What you do,
What you see,
What you think,
How you act,
How you react,
How I can best dispose of the body.
October is the best of months.
So much happens.
Harvest.
The bringing in of the crops,
leaves the soil… disturbed.
It also makes it easy to dig.
Gardening is a lot of fun.
When I walked through to the kitchen,
passing you, pawing my little girl like a wolf,
on my sofa…
you did not flinch, or use proper respect.
Some have done this before.
You are not the first.
You, lol…
Yes, I love to garden.
I pissed my dog off today
He wouldn't listen to what I had to say
He didn't have to be such a grouch
I just wanted him off my couch
Why is he so mad, I didn't even holler
I just pulled on his collar
He was being such a jerk and wanted to fight
Snarled and growled and gave me a bite
We had one hell of a brawl
Across the floor and half way up the wall
I don't think I can take it anymore
He's on my couch while I'm sleeping on the floor!
Sitting on the sofa
Munching on some chips
Not a care in the world
Of calories on the hips.
Slouched down on the cushion
The tv glued to his face
You ask him a question
But he's out in outer space.
You call him to the table
He won't leave his favorite chair
The sports are on the screen
He must eat his dinner there.
The man is getting fatter
Nothing you do will get him out
You turn the tube off
And all he does is shout.
This couch potato man
No further does he get
His life is all downhill
Cause he's caught within a net.
The tv screen has got him
It's made him very lame
He won't go out the door
This man has earned his name.
How frantic my antics when I'm in a panic-
my thoughts alone could sink the Titanic!
Hassled, frazzled- razz-madazzled
when I feel so well and Manic!
Taken for granted, a Life enchanted,
and gifts of Art, by God implanted.
Confuses the Muses with makeshift excuses-
my trembling Mind, thus reprimanded!
For sloth, for laze, for lost ambition;
for languid lax, these poor conditions!
I feel punctured at this juncture-
Overwhelmed by such attrition...
Discerning my yearning, but also learning
that life affords but one audition.
I AM A COUCH POTATO
By Roy Merritt
I am a couch potato, but not russet, red or white
I’m the kind of potato that sits up late at night
And I watch the TV shows the shows I really dig
And sit there in my chair and eat just like a pig
I eat hot dogs and burgers and sometimes even fries
And though we are related none of them ever cries
The only problem I see the problem with this place
Is how I might get more food to shove down in my face
And how I might get it to come right near to me
For its in my refrigerator some distance from me you see
And I know if it could hear me it would no doubt balk
If I dared to ask it to get up from there and walk
Bring me some bologna with mustard spread on bread
Bring me milk and cookies I need to be quickly fed
And get me lots of sodas the sweetest ones the best
The ones that keep you up you never need to rest
And please tell the potty I’ll need it really soon
I’ll no doubt need it morning, night, and noon
So don’t stay in the restroom come near to me as well
But stay far away enough so I can avoid the smell
A few feet should do it and I won’t much have to try
While I eat my pumpernickel and my chocolate apple pie
And no doubt my big belly will turn me into a grouch
As I sit here and eat content upon my couch
Yes I sit here eating sealing my certain doom
While I should be out and playing I’m in my living room
I should be out and running or playing with a bat
Instead of sitting here and getting really fat
So take a fool’s advice heed my greatest fear
For I know if I keep this up I won’t have many years
I’ll be like most potatoes then whenever they are found
I’ll be a couch potato buried beneath the ground
And should they dig me up I’ll be a terrible sight
And certainly something that would spoil your appetite
And certainly something that would spoil your appetite
Surely something to spoil your appetite
A beautiful couch, dusted entirely; five gentle hearts insist. Just kids, learning, moving, now
overturning pillows-- quite riot, so teriffic--undaunting: Victory will expand young's zodiac.
===========================
May I please say before we start
that I am PERFECT for this part?
It's in my SOUL.
You might as well go lock the door,
cuz right here's what you're looking for.
I AM this role!
But why take chances? Just in case,
I've put plans B and C in place.
(So I'm not not stiffed)
Lets just say I have money, dear.
Who couldn't use a twenny here?
*wink*.... catch my drift?
Need more to prove that I'm no slouch?
Just show me to the casting couch.
THAT talent's free...
.........
.............
No - thank YOU, Sir!! When's best to call?
I just KNEW once you'd seen it all...
Oh............... You'll call ME...?
===========================
I wanna wake up and be blinded be your grin
You spent all your time in my tent
We even ride behind tint just to hide from your friends
But I'm not ashamed of you
I'm focused on changing you
Unchaining you until your heart is free
Don't start with me i know I'm aggressive , overprotective , A drunk brainiac that's so restless
But at night I lay my head where your chest is
Despite all our wrestling
I wanna tell my Bestfriend he can be my best man
I know saying this is so jr high school
But I like you
In prison with my feelings so in my thoughts I write you sweet letters like we should be together
You my Coachella our love is good music
Above the influence but you convinced me to cook for you
I look for you but you no where to be found
I'm not shook because when I needed you you weren't around
I Smile without a doubt but I hate you Because of you I'm drunk on the couch
The Potato expanded to fit the Couch,
Bathing in the light of the God of Radiation,
A many hued attack on whatever senses remained.
Froth overflowing from his beer and his brain
Machinegun-like channels blasting and caressing
He sank back, understanding but not grasping
At all the dangers, all the time never to return.
Except in late night re-runs, in a double wasted memory.
The weather changed in a moment, but the temperature remained the same
As snow and mush bored into his ears, non-compos mentis
Horizontally composed, his sole exposed to the white idol...
His dreams and nightmares continuing endlessly, a god of his own creation,
And demise.
Ladies marry the man of their dreams in a church
Eventually... she end up married to a couch that burps
Happens the world over
From Brisbane to Dover
Could've been an axe murderer and things would've been worse
C r a z y Cate just had a
C-section. Crabby, she
couldn’t control her moods.
Catatonic one night,
careless me stole her cloaks!
Can’t I be cutely flawed?
Couch became my man cave.
*Not for contest, just for fun*
Date Written: August 25, 2016