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Best Flown The Coop Poems | Poetry

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The Best Flown The Coop Poems

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Collaboration Can Be Fun join in here

I'm a firm believer
In limerick fever
(This isn't news)
"It'll cure the blues!"
Says Jan (who is no deceiver)

Written by Jan Allison:

Writing limericks is a fine art
Yes I write about poop or a fart
But show me someone
Whose not dropped a ‘bomb’
then from poetry soup I’d depart!

Written by Lim'rik Flats:

Does art mimic life or life mimic art?
Don't ask me, I'm not too smart.
It seems the soup
Has the same poop
As watching the news (or a fart).

Drama and trauma, factions and foes,
Smiting and fighting, (hard on the nose),
Saves me the trouble
Of viewing double
Saves time, and less grief I suppose.

Written by Ray Gridley:

Raise a toast to this collaboration
Whatever your race or your nation
Just write on a whim
Lim'rick Flat's bound to grin
They are all going to be a sensation!

Written by Daniel Turner:

I know a guy called Lim'rick Flats
Writes limericks at the drop of a hat
Jan is his pal
She's quite a gal
They met in a laundry mat

Jan makes jokes about poop
he puts them in alphabet soop
drinks from the bowl
with no self control
which makes him a nincompoop

Also written by Daniel Turner:

Write all the limericks you want
but don't fart in a restaurant
people will laugh
call you riffraff
even if you're a debutante

Written by John Lawless:

oh the limerick it ain’t quite a sonnet
and the learned, they look down upon it
for they cannot grasp
its head or its ***
nor the cleansing effect of its tonic 

Written by Terry Reeves:

Late for work she flew out the door
Took an express elevator to the 29th floor
Let some discreet killer farts
Nearly stopped all their hearts
Left them gagging; she'd evened the score

Written by Tim Smith:

Nonsense is here found out in the alley
Five funny lines we'll add to the tally
a smile or two
we laught till we're blue
so put out your best and join in our rally

Written by Alexis Y:

Hey what's going on in the soup?
Lim'rik Flats I want the scoop
What do you have to say?
You got poem of the day
Congrats, I shouldn't have flown the coop

Written by Jean Murray:

John is always fun.
His poems and their puns.
If you need a lift.
He has the gift.
Lim'rik Flats is number one.

psst.  How could I not add this to the string?  ~ john

Copyright © lim'rik flats | Year Posted 2017

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Judging Behavior

I was on one continent and she another.
Both of us were always writing letters to each other.
I felt that we were headed in a romantic direction,
so I booked a flight destined for her location.
She was so lovely and ever so charming,
and as we walked arm in arm, she never stopped smiling.
The evening was ending so she brought me to her home,
and that was the beginning of everything going wrong.
Severed human heads were on display everywhere,
Suddenly I was wishing that I wasn't there.
"Doesn't all these severed heads bother you?" I asked she.
"Damned straight," she said, "my sister has more than me.
Every head represents a slain sworn enemy.
Each head elevates our status in the community."
Is this woman crazy? Has she completely flown the coop?
Not at all, this is normal behavior for the culture she has been exposed to.
If your brain had better receptors than everybody,
and the tissue of your brain was of the highest quality
and if you happened to be born and raised in Nazi Germany,
all the more faster you would develop into a greater Nazi.
Blaming someone for their behavior is one of the worst things to do.
All behavior is reflective of an environment that imposed its values.
If you were raised in the Amazon rainforest, you'd be a headhunter too.

Copyright © Billy TheKidster | Year Posted 2018

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Chicken Licken

Poor old Chicken Licken's not the brightest little bird
Keeps coming up with theories that are clearly quite absurd
He got hit by an acorn, and to laugh would be a sin
But our little feathered friend believes, the sky is falling in
He’s running round the farmyard telling everyone his tale
“We must inform the government and do it without fail”
Rounding up some other birds to join him on his quest
Picking just the fittest, disregarding all the rest
The Goose and Turkey Lurkey led this brave deluded ring
As they marched into the night so they could go and tell the King 
Poor old Chicken Lickens brain has really flown the coop
The way he carries on he’s going to end up in the soup

Copyright © John W Fenn | Year Posted 2010

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Butti The Tortoise

Butti the tortoise from the zoo has flown the coop

   Your brother Tutti misses you, you little poop

      On you there is a large bounty

         If found in El Paso County

            Hope you don't end up as a bowl of turtle soup

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

This is based on a true story.   Butti came up missing at the Colorado Springs
Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, 27 Mar 2011.  He and his brother, Tutti, are Indian
Star tortoises.    Suspicions are that some miscreant pocketed him and strolled
away since he was about the size of a grapefruit and weighed about a
pound.   Coincidentally, a river otter named Kitchi, escaped from the same zoo
a few months ago and has never been found.   If interested you can read the
saga of Kitchi in my poem of the same name.   Will keep you posted!!

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011

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I Ran Away From You


  I stood in the doorway frozen in fear,
    Your coffin was within;
  The room was empty of sound and of life,
    I could see you resting.

    In peace, your pain was gone,
    But mine was beginning;
  Wanting to scream, I fled, I ran away,
    Down the dark street weeping.

    I ran away from you,
  Like a pigeon who has flown the coop;    
    I went back to that room,
    Be strong was your whisper.

  Proudly, standing at your coffin smiling,
    Remembering fun you;
    And visitors telling,
    And we were all laughing.

  Like the time you put the wallpaper,
    Upside down and Mom yelling;
    And the phone call one day,
    Dad is hanging on roof.

  And how can I forget the chainsaw time,
    When you cut down the trees;
    And trees, until you were stopped,
  Rest in peace, until I join you in the above.

April 20, 2015

Verse (unrhymed)

For the contest, The Pigeon Who Flew The Coop, sponsor, Tammy Reams

First Place

Note Regarding This Poem:  I wanted to show how my Dad's funeral was full of
happy stories of his antics, he was quite the character and everyone who attended
had a story to tell.  There was so much laughter.  It was sadness and funny mixed
together, an odd combination.

Copyright © Dear Heart | Year Posted 2015

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Final Thoughts

While strolling through the graveyard the other day, I was drawn,
To a host of stones with creative and pithy epitaphs etched thereon!
Such flowing poetic verse is deemed worthy of recording for posterity,
Due to its peculiarity, sincerity, rarity and macabre hilarity!

"Here lies Gus riddled with lead!  The high sheriff shot him dead!"
"He brewed the finest booze in the county! 'Til a G-man shot him for the bounty!"
"From his horse Red was throwed!  He was the finest feller we ever knowed!"
"His jealous spouse cut short his life!  With a twelve-inch butchering knife!"

"She slipped on a derelict banana peel!  The bump on her noggin failed to heal!"
"He failed to slow down and swerve!  Lost his nerve and missed the curve!"
"If you think this place has no appeal!  How the heck do you think I feel?"
"Here lies the late bullfighter Umberto!  He was fatally gored by el toro!"

"Clyde owns this piece of real estate!  Or that's what he claims, at any rate!"
"Barnstormer Barney has flown the coop!  He failed to negotiate an outside loop!"
"Cowpoke Pete has bit the dust!   From his wild cayuse he was abruptly thrust!"
"A slug ended the career of gambler Steve! Seems he had some aces up his sleeve!"

"Too much cholesterol is how he met his fate!  Docs warned him but 'twas too late!"
"She met her doom skating on the ice!   Tried to do the triple axel thrice!"
"He always enjoyed a nickel cigar!  Alas, his flame died out due to too much tar!"
"Upon my stone let no bird alight!  Should that happen, please clean off the blight!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012

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Grandma's Flown The Coop

Grandma’s Flown the Coup!

Has anyone here seen Grandma?
We’ve been searching high and low
It’s time she joined the seniors’ home
Burt she doesn’t want to go
She packed up all her make-up
Paid her Botox bill in full
Her kids think she should act her age
She thinks that that’s bull!

Her hair salon is worried
Her dye job is almost due
She comes like clockwork every week
They’ll miss the revenue
The old age club is miffed
She never joins the group
And tries to lure the rest of them
To come and fly the coop!

Last week she went dancing
And partied all night long
Then someone handed her a mike
And she sang a bawdy song
Please help us to find Grandma
She’s getting much too bold
She decided she’s too young for us
For she’s never growing old!

Copyright© 2004 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)

Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011

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Growing up in a middle class suburb of Chicago, is it any wonder that Polly learned the art of political malarkey.  Watching the City Council was probably the
place where she learned to see women standing up to voice their words, even if those words were put in their mouths.  She must have learned early on that promises go a long way in getting a taste of the public trough which consumes her life.

     "RRAAAWWK...Do you people want a cracker"?

She married a State politician, who eventually ran and won Federal office.  Where else could Polly get the in depth look at what it takes to run and win political office?  The eventual eager answers to everyone's questions about the state of  just how she would prevent their ox from being gored.  Of course, that meant that she had to have different answers to so many people, but she learned that the truth and reality were seldom spoken in the same way to all.

     "RRAAAWWK...If you give me a cracker I will give you some".

She had learned so well, she eventually ran for that same office.  In my book, however, two wrongs do not make a right.  We learned that so well this past did Polly, who's cage was rattled and shaken.  Poor Polly, not getting the support she needed was a blow to her own ego, while her pink pantsuits persevered by pundits poured over the public.

     "RRAAAWWK"...How can I eat if you don't fill my bowl"?

Was the beating Polly took for her alone?  No, it was for all the politicians, no matter how low or high the office they seek.  Those who continue to put food in the troughs allow so many politicians to think it is alright to lie, cheat, steal, and have the audacity to proffer themselves as the ones who will cure the ills of the people with such a straight face, including the one who holds the seat which Polly so coveted.

     "RRAAAWWK...Just give me a chance, just give me a chance".

Polly, where are you?  You seemed to have flown the coop, even with the door closed.  Should we expect to hear from Polly, again?  This is not in my crystal ball, but like all the political losers of the past, I can hear Polly's squawk so loudly that it deafens my ears to the point of them bleeding.  For Polly has been on the inside, now on the out.  Only one thing remains for her political agenda which she tells with that straight face to anyone who will listen.

     "RRAAAWWK...I told you so...I told you so...I told you so"!

Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2017

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The Big City Gig Part No. Two

"Now when we showed up...
There it was, a professional set...
A huge Hammond B-3 Organ..
(King of all Organs..same as used
by Santana at Woodstock, etc....)
500 pounds of growling power...
Something I'd never seen up close...
With huge spinning Leslie Speakers...
Oh, my God!..,I was finally closer
to organist heaven than most...

So there we were.. in front of
A sophisticated NYC music group,
A hudred or more people lookin'
at us...
I would'a flown the coop...
But I've never failed to
live up to a promise...
Even at the cost of my humility..

So, this first gig, was a throw-together
What we were doin' there,
We hadn't a hunch...

Let me preface this...
I was sitting in front of
a machine I knew not...
With different controls...
Like an aborigine
At the throttle of a Flying Saucer...

This first gig,
I left the organ conrols
stay where they were...
I knew not what they did...
Wasn't willing to experiment
In front of these strangers...

We played a safe, yet
boring set...
Safe in obscurity...
Made the other band look extra good...
We now knew where we stood...

Not too long later,
We were invited back again..
The perfect foible..
To contrast talents once more...

But this time was gona be different!!
We were gona give them a surprise...
Bring some better musicians with us...
See if we lit up bright eyes....

Now boldness always sounds grand...
Makes a good movie...
Braveheart in a band...

But not all endings are happy ones...
And can leave a bad taste...
Guess you'll never know....
If you never did chase...
That dream over the horizon...
Even if you lose the race...

So the second time 'round...
We hit the ground running...
And emboldened I grew,
Decided to see,
What these "drawerbars" could do...

So we played, and I tried
Driving my Spaceship,
Trust me, didn't sound so hip...
See a fool is one unaware
of limitations...
Willing to be brave without reservations...

Many of those "drawerbars" were
I doubt if I then even knew
what that word meant...
But pull the wrong "drawerbar" out...
And go sound a train wreck...

So there I was, with organ
blaring sounds just awful...
Worse than a torture scene
in a horror movie...
I think you get the notion....

I got strange looks from
audience, and bandmates too..
To crawl out of there on all fours...
That was all I wanted to do...

Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007

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Politically Correct Nursery Rhyme


     Sparrow found guilty of killing Cock Robin with his little bow and 
arrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!    Judge to announce sentence!!!
   "Since you admit killing Cock Robin, I sentence you to twenty years for 
poaching.  Officer take this prisoner away."



Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2007

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Time On My Hands

Another ponder day came by
And looked me right square in the eye.
I just sat and with a sigh
Grabbed my pencil and began to write.

The sky is blue dotted with white
The grass was green but turned brown over night.
The flowers all droop out on my stoop
Another summer's flown the coop.

Then the winds began to blow
Followed by white flakes of snow
I closed my eyes and began to dream
Of tomorrow's brand new painted scene,

Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2005

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Its over

No longer can you break me to pieces,
Rip me apart infront of those I love,
You can’t get to me and that must drive you crazy,
I’m a better person than you will ever be,
Success is definitely the best revenge,

I spent years despising myself,
Just to realise the one who is ill is you,
I should hate you,
But I don’t,
I pity you,
For you must have had somethink,
Really bad happen to you,
For you to end up like that,

The bird has flown the coop,
Never shall it return,
To the hell it once came from,
For that is now dead and buried for all eternity.

Copyright © natasha evans | Year Posted 2007