Best Craze Poems
CRAZE DURING FOOTBALL GAME
Up yellows; greens; reds and blue,
tell me! Tell me, who is through?
Passes. Crosses. Headers. Shots.
Volleys, blasters, more scissor kicks
tell me! Tell me, whose on the spot!
Ninety minutes with some overtime
eleven players playing in the field
each one targets to be World Champ!
The strikers and defenders immense
so are Audience claps, dance, rants!
Dripping sweat from turning, running
Tension rising! Twists are rocketing!
Audience wriggling, nonstop cheering!
Thriller, action, comedy plus tragedy,
Oh all are drawn by its classic drama.
Perplex hard attacks, clever corners
rise from a penalty or free kick yell!
Elicits an alarm to goalie keepers' eye
He in eagle's arms and kangaroo leap
Tell me! Tell me, has one scored a goal?
Around the globe, fellas or gents in craze,
amazed and tantalized by Football game!
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Written 6th of July, 2018 @ 10:46am
In the blooming epoch of days,
the unlikely swarms have now come
their colors vibrant in sun rays.
In the blooming epoch of days,
there are no rules when nature plays.
Where on earth are these lovelies from?
In the blooming epoch of days,
the unlikely swarms have now come!
Labubu grins, a curious work of art,
Kasing Lung’s dream, brought forth from the heart.
Pop Mart displays, collecting carts start,
Lisa’s embrace gives trends a new chart.
People of faith, consider your part,
Not every craze should capture your heart.
Fame’s shining lure can pull us apart,
Discernment and wisdom must always take part.
Enjoy what is lovely, but don’t let it chart
A course that could lead your soul to depart.
The world may entice with treasures and art,
But truth and love must anchor your heart.
Let light be your guide, not just what is smart,
For faith is the truest and timeless art.
Food issues bring odd stealth
(not obsessed with broccoli
inexplicable phobia of brussel sprouts)
It's potato chip indulgence
pandemic binge eating
supersedes duty to diet
Label my needs selfish
(after all, self control isn't freedom!)
Existential angst
Potholes of dire health
Craving: Sea salt potato chips
- a tide leaving stretch mark traces
My shadow now Alfred Hitchcock bloated
(abandoning hope of waist line laudable)
Companionship ceded to bulging bags of potato chips
finger tips that weep salt
(I try to brush it off, but succumb:
'JUST LICK IT')
till crumpled bags curl in sighs
Facebook support groups sought ('who else shares my
salted existence?') More sublime than on-line
naughtiness
Conspiracy Theory: junk food sellers wilfully target my email!
You Tube influencers influence, NO - inflame
cravings that boast an 'R' rating
Self Discovery: I can jog and eat salted chips at the same time
Sweat pants absolve my sins, perfect deception
and are dazzlingly stylish
Post pandemic goal: re-locate to the garden
grab an apple
juicy bites
eat indecently
and ignore the snake.
Poem composed: March 6, 2021 (revised May24/21)
Contest entry: Salt
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
I went to the doctor for a sharp pain,
I couldn't walk straight without my trusty cane,
while the doctor poked around
I danced to some old Motown...
Hey, I'm standing straight - this jacket's insane!
There is a comic known as Don Rickles
Whose withering wit our ribs he tickles
Some people take great offense
When skewered at their expense
Leaving them as dour as sour dill pickles
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 3 in PD's "Pickles & Tickles Limerick Craze" Contest - November 2010
Avocados are the latest craze right now
Is it marketing or taste that makes us go wow
Wanting to chow down
In tune with the town
But from this day forward my taste buds say ciao
Body movement shake
A dance craze in modern hype
Bizarre for adults.
Minds turned into images
Barren moments, parched feelings
Drowned in haste and unease,
Self-indulgent and covetous
Desolate technology slaves
Imprisoned in closed cabins
Chained to the chairs
Eyes fixed on the screens
Human skeletons with dried hearts
Drained and deserted relationships
Torn emotions and tainted lives
Emptiness all around
Ruled by commerce and profit
Turning world in to market
With frozen conscience
Infringing the peace loving souls
Bred by craze, power and greed
Aimless swarms and awry crowds
Turning planet in to an oven
Yelling advancement and progress
Green turned into grey
Sky turned into smog
Breeze turned into beast
Violating nature’s chastity
Where are the relaxing rooftops
Trees and the chattering birds
Clear sky and the morning dew
Seducing sunsets and cozy evenings
Lost in the crew of human creatures
Serene, pure, tender and loving
Living in isolation and disenchantment
Waiting for the return of olden days
Seems a forlorn hope in mighty milieu
Crafted by the self-centered masters
Impervious to human virtues
But, the hope never dies
He sat there angry, and a bit unnerved,
his haughtiness had been rudely served;
fur flew furious, with a startling spring,
near six feet high---he nearly took wing!
I had never seen one levitate like that,
you could say he was a freaked out cat.
What made him flip almost out of his skin?
What feline demons lurked deep within?
What made him become a kitty tumbler?
Why it was only---one scary cucumber!
I love kitties and never wish them harm, but the current craze of setting a cucumber near a cat unawares, usually while they are eating, and recording their startled reaction makes em cry with laughter. I just can't help it. You gotta check out Youtube.
Money, money, money
Give me a penny,
I’ll stash it, I’ll hide it,
And guard it like treasure.
In his belly, a hunger
That can’t be fulfilled,
For gold and for riches
His greed is unmatched.
He pockets the profits,
The worker gives his all,
But when it’s time to pay,
The boss is long gone.
No thought for the world,
Just riches to keep,
He’ll chase every dollar
And never lose sleep.
The whole nation
is doing a new dance craze,
you just have to stand up,
wiggle and scratch,
and do a whole lot of shaking…
thanks to a teen named Patti,
who was listening to music
at a picnic,
accidentally sitting in
a fire ant hill,
and got them in her britches,
the whole gang saw her,
stood up, and quickly mimicked!
Glows
protect
city streets;
Nola’s lantern
craze.
In 1894, Annie climbed on a bike
Told the doubters to take a hike
Planned to cycle cross the planet, found sponsors, took a gun
Though she died 50 years after, her legend had begun.
How much is embellished, it's hard to say,
She used steamships to bridge gaps along the way.
But thousands of miles she rode alone,
While today's rebels seldom leave their phone.
She was an unlikely athlete, she weighed just 100 pounds
Her orthodox Jewish Husband didn't keep her in bounds
She hadn't ridden a bike until a few days before her trip
But she ignored those details and let adventure rip.
A sponsor, Londonderry water, gave her her name
And as Annie Londonderry, she won her fame.
From Paris to Marseille, a hurt foot rested on a handlebar
Still made it in two weeks, gave skeptics their first jar.
She reached Yokohama, took a boat to Frisco
Rode to L.A. Arizona, on a roll to El Paso
She rode beside tracks, a horse accident drew blood
But she hopped trains in Nebraska, because the roads were mud
In Iowa she hit a group of pigs, and broke her wrist
But she wasn't stopping now, no fading in the mist
She wore a cast until she made the goal and won the prize
Fourteen days before deadline, with triumph in her eyes.
You may never have heard of Mrs. Londonderry
She told lots of tall tales - roguish and merry
But still she was a pioneer, a racer and tough
An adventuress made mostly of the right stuff.
She had children, a business, yet we can agree
She showed the 1890's; how bold a spirit could be.
She didn't have money; she earned money along the way
with talks and ads, could you do that today?
Could you cycle through North Africa, Yemen, Saigon?
Or would ideologues stop you, from continuing on?
So for those who remember, let's give a Hurrah
For those who have moxie, and a dose of Chutzpah.
I am consumed by you.
As your beautiful eyes devour my thoughts,
I wish only to be the bounty
From which you feast.
I tremble as I imaging your strong hands
Gently caressing my soul,
For it is their touch which yields my faith.
A single breath from your lips
As you softly exhale my name
Gives life to my passions.
As my fantasy becomes reality
I know that I have spent my life
Awaiting this one moment in time.
Is this love… or OBSESSION?