Best Crotchety Poems
There must be something besides love
Another good topic for a poem
Perhaps I'll write about nature and stuff
And the chilly winds a-blowin'
November in Canada has that nip in the air
That foretells of the season ahead
For those that are into those winter sports
Bet you're can't get it out of your head
Well maybe when I was a very young'un
Snow time meant barrels of fun
But this guy's quite old and crotchety now
Snow means falling on me bum
Can't wait for spring just six months to go
The months can't go by fast enough
Perhaps I'll hibernate just like the bears
Then wake up and brush of the dust
Don't get me wrong, I'm Canadian eh!
It's the law, I'm required to like winter
They could lock me up, throw away the key
It's also against the law to whimper
(sniff!)
If you hope to be one of means and property,
And to be perceived as truly ‘one of a kind’,
Never tolerate or accept mediocrity.
Develop, while young, this fine quality.
Reaffirm it daily in your mind.
If you hope to be one of means and property.
Over-acheivers are definitely a scarcity;
Average and below average people aren’t hard to find.
Never tolerate or accept mediocrity.
You’ll always be surrounded by those in poverty.
Work harder in body and smarter in mind
If you hope to be one of means and property
While you’re young, consider this your duty:
Knowledge is power--education of any and every kind.
Never tolerate or accept mediocrity.
Someday when you're frail, old, and crotchety,
You’ll recall what I had you commit to mind:
If you hope to be one of means and property,
Never tolerate or accept mediocrity.
Curiosity concerning Careen’s covert chocolate and candy cache
causes children’s cartoon crusader Charlie a calamity!
Careen’s childminding cousin Charlie and carelessly closes her candy cupboard ...
curious Charlie’s no cherub, and can’t curb his constant candy craving
Charlie champs continually on copious chunks of candy and chocolate
Chomping contentedly on chewy coffee caramels and candy canes.
Charleston chews and Careen’s costly chocolate caramel crunch clusters
Charlie carelessly chucks the crinkled coverings on the carpet
Careen clocks Charlie chomping candy from her confectionary collection
Careen’s candy and chocolate is cherished
Consequently, Careen cannot condone cousin Charlie’s crafty crime ...
Careen’s crotchety and cross at Charlie’s out of character conduct
and contemplates contacting the cops
Charlie cringes and claims clemency,
claiming he can’t control his cravings... he’s a covert chocoholic connoisseur
Careen can’t commiserate, calling Charlie a complete cad!
Charlie’s complains his canine crown is cracked
and the chewy candy’s caused cavernous cavities
Calmly Careen closes and chains her candy cupboard
then chuckles coldheartedly at Charlie’s candy catastrophe!
Cowering on a Careen’s comfy couch, Charlie cries continually
Charlie is a complete coward and can’t cope with caries caused by candy...
He deplores and detests the drone of the dentist’s drill!
Charlie's Cartoon Characters Curiously Careen And Crusade Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
11/18/18
Dear old Santa Claus was about to go out of his mind!
'Twas nigh Christmas Eve and his schedule was way behind!
His lazy elves had let him down and didn't complete their work;
His sleigh needed serious repair and his reindeer were going berserk!
Missus Claus nagged him about being crotchety, tired and old,
And didn't want him flying about in his sleigh and catching cold.
His Santa suit was tattered having been worn for a hundred years.
Unable to deliver goodies to the kids was one of his greatest fears!
He called a meeting of his elves and said, "Each of you is fired!"
And to his rebellious reindeer he said, "You are now retired!"
"Fiddle-faddle! I'm gonna sit by the fire and rest my weary bones!
Henceforth, to deliver presents to the kids I'm using a fleet of drones!"
Entry for Mystic Rose's "A Futuristic Christmas" Contest
(27 November 2015)
Six months from now and it's curtains for me
I'll crash through the barrier of 80
I'll officially be old and crotchety and senile
Pablum after my morning pee
Oh for the days had no trouble getting dressed
Now I forget my darn Jockeys
Don't wanna share this bod with anyone else
Everything's become kinda floppy
Once had tight abs... now who am I kidding
The tightest my abs get now
Is when I try bending down to tie up my laces
At times feel like a pregnant cow
I grunt and strain and been known to curse
Saying bad things like, “holy heck"
Can remember those real naughty old phrases
Like “go to blazes” or “pain in the neck”
Guess six months won't make a hugh difference
I'm pretty well ready for the pasture
One thing I've noticed since reaching “maturity”
Time seems to be going a lot faster
So here's some advice for all you young'uns
Enjoy life while you still can
Before you know it, the darn jig will be up
And you'll just be an also ran
© Jack Ellison 2015
We boarded the busy, bustling bus
Adults and children – it transported us
When a crotchety man I knew as a neighbor
Exhibited his usual Scrooge-like behavior
He snorted and snapped “Get out of my way”
“I’ve paid my fare on this miserable day
Oh how I wish I could commit suicide
I hate this nasty and noisome ride”
Now, also traveling to his destination
Was an old man of a very different persuasion
Who sang quite loudly, as teenagers laughed
And didn’t mind if they thought he was daft
Whether carols or pop songs, he cared not one whit
But warbled away – for the sheer joy of it
This curious cacophony caused me to chuckle
And I thought: “This is certainly quite a kerfuffle”
Some passengers stared, and some others scowled
While more of them smiled, there were some who growled
Which shall be your bearing this season
As you search for meaning, as you quest for reason?
For Elaine George's "Tell Me a Story" contest
Love those who love you
Appreciate those who appreciate you
A dog never bites its owner
If a dog does just that, it ought to be gently put to sleep
Gentlemen, love women who love you
Ladies, love men who care for you
If someone doesn't like you, don't get upset
It’s fine or okay for someone not to like you
This is democracy 100, everyone is free to choose
Love those who are cordial or courteous to you
Disregard or ignore those who dislike or antagonize you
Be strong, vigilant, calm and cool, don't act like fools
The dog barks at its master, it’s because of esurience or jejuneness
But when it bites its master, it’s because this animal is still untamed
This pestered creature is sent eventually to the shelter to be euthanized
A cat always respects its master or has high regard for its owner
Love those who love you
Appreciate those who appreciate you
Shatter not the heart of those who don't like or despise you
However do your very best for those who care for you
For those who are not hypocritical, ingrate or ungrateful
Old cats will in perpetuum remain old cats
They function as old egotistic crabs or irritating crotchety rats
Love those who love you
Appreciate those who appreciate you
Love is the appropriate answer
Not the mortiferous cancer.
P.S. Translation of ' Renmen Moun Ki Renmen Ou’ by Hébert Logerie.
Copyright © June 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Now at an advanced crotchety age
namely three score plus one Earth
orbitz around the nearest star,
yours truly revisits
poignant episodes foisting
launching snapchatting
one after another crisis
sidelining ability to cope
pursuing life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness
whiz hard by at light speed.
Though just a kid during third industrial revolution,
I remember feeling lost in space (age) and agog
at being on the cusp, when infrastructure
(regarding blueprint describing
information superhighway,
technological/computer transformation
would when soon after graduating
Methacton high school
(mine alma mater)
quickly usher The Fourth Industrial Revolution
a way of describing the blurring of boundaries
between the physical, digital, and biological worlds,
a fusion of advances in artificial intelligence (AI),
robotics, the Internet of Things (IoT), 3D printing,
genetic engineering, quantum computing,
and other technologies.
Leprechaun
The Leprechaun sprung from the corn,
said "me name is Paddy,
Dontcha be looking all forlorn,
I aint a real gone baddie,"
"For me pot of gold, sell ya soul,
Needing it quite badly,"
"Egg sucking leaves me cold,
Specially when their addley,"
"Sign this deed ya little nasty weed,
Gives me ya souls proxy,"
Arfur sidestepped to buggery, indeed,
poor leprechaun, crotchety….
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi Contest Name Creepy Irish Creatures
Nationwide Insurance twas on my side yay
cuz, earlier this July forth
two thousand eighteen ja way
windows closed, doors locked, and
car keys visibly splayed
on driver seat oye vay
feel free to call me a horse's ass today
utter anxiety compounded,
plus unable to locate master key,
thence fodder for poem and more to say
rifling thru boxes without success,
an impulse arose to call road
upon learning policy
doth include locksmith service,
ah felt less doggone snappish,
and uttered hoo ray
though modest aye,
congratulated awesome,
fulsome, and handsome
self on quick thinking,
and automatically became less tiresome
pondering for no particular rhyme nor reason
(as a getaway) Panama or Paraguay
then immediate decided,
sans ditto explanation,
but no how and nay
yet honest to dog suddenly felt
like a young lovestruck lad
during month of May
and without further delay
a compulsion arose
to putter along, though
momentarily gazing heavenward
and counting (just beak caws)
glistening black crows
plus painfully aware
a spike in recurrent
"senior" moment of forgetfulness grows,
thus starkly aware significant rustiness
increasingly, frightfully,
and chokingly coats
lix spit tillage harrows
resuming schlepping dishabille
crotchety bedeviled aching
body electric irksome
with fringe benefit (such as
momentary lapse of reason)
quite aware mettlesome
ness of youth nonrefundable,
non-reliable, and non-retrievable,
and guaranteed continued
pricking, viz nettlesome
degenerating aging telomeres,
sensate perspicuity, and oxysomes
leaving a once robust person some
what discombobulated
and easily toilsome.
Yikes, aside from mental
health re: psychotherapy,
which haint the worse
cyst phase of being
objectionably being called "old man",
this poem doth tack
toward the no body,
and will address
no illusory (no
app for) pretensions
alluding to verse,
the slow-mo ravages
of aging, evincing
and inching into
solid AARP universe
suddenly (moon if fish int lee)
impinges on endurance
even crimping poetic
raptures tubby terse
though (oh my this
muttering ole hound) chronologically
traversing that arbitrary, elliptically,
and imaginary Maginot line
i.e. almost three score year,
thy esprit de corps unlike
complaining crotchety curmudgeon
folks living here
Highland Manor situated
in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania,
not much older
than me do daily air
lamentations kvetching even
on days pitch perfect and clear
find some bugaboo to gripe about
which dispositions hardly
makes them endear
ring at least to myself,
a baby boomer
(lix orbitz licked) gear
ring up to enter
sixth decade of life,
when a tell tale battle
of the bulge paunch
finds mine equatorial zone
somewhat flabby, a mockery
of washboard blubbery
abdominal sculpted tone
engirdled with loathsome
ample "NON FAKE"
lovely jowly handles
which I hate, though
human flesh naturally prone
to the lowest point of resistance,
and finds these
lovely bones to groan.
Been called sexy, been called old and crotchety
Maybe I'm somewhere in between
I'm probably closer to the sex symbol type
With this body, you know what I mean
Young ladies are always clamouring around
For a piece of this gorgeous physique
Sorry to have to tell them, to take a number
For a chance at the thrill they seek
I'm usually an extremely low key kind of guy
But since building this stunning body
Females flock around, it can get quite annoying
Sorry, really don't mean to get snotty
I'm hankering for just a little peace and quiet
To recharge my batteries so to speak
Eventually all-nighters are gonna catch up
Leaving me real pooped out and weak
Think I might return to my overweight self
Less hassles with the opposite sex
Didn't realize all the women it would attract
Not something I'd really expect
Just funnin'
© Jack Ellison 2104
My poor poems, neither rhyme nor scan, a scandal be damn,
as grand grammarians grumble and crotchety critics cry tumbrels,
while trendy topic pickers poke fun at one so dumb, as so nice and precise
mistresses (or masters) of the art pull me prettily apart; I just go my way -
smile, sigh, ponder and pray that the Muses dear will inspire me without fear.
Fireworks are still popping in my neighborhood
Long after July 4th; I keep thinking they’ll stop,
And hope so soon for the sake of brotherhood!
Celebrations are meaningful on their special day
Noisy and loud merriment are par for the course
But now, I wish the noises would simply go away!
You might suggest I am getting old and crotchety
And I suppose you wouldn’t be far from the truth
Can you imagine a city block blasting ubiquitously?
Written July 10, 2022
There must be something besides love
Another good topic for a poem
Perhaps I'll write about nature and stuff
And the chilly winds a-blowin'
October in Canada has that nip in the air
That foretells of the season ahead
For those that are into those winter sports
Bet you're can't get it out of your head
Well maybe when I was a very young'un
Snow time meant barrels of fun
But this guy's quite old and crotchety now
Snow means falling on me bum
Can't wait for spring just six months to go
The months can't go by fast enough
Perhaps I'll hibernate just like the bears
Then wake up and brush of the dust
Don't get me wrong, I'm Canadian eh!
It's the law, I'm required to like winter
They could lock me up, throw away the key
It's also against the law to whimper
(sniff!)
© Jack Ellison 2013