Best Get The Hang Poems
Personification is my favorite poem to write.
I can fly to my nest and feed my eaglets,
or I can scare humans to death with my wolf howl.
Personification forces me to enter my subject's heart and soul
Not easily done unless you have experience, and enthusiasm for it.
I love this type of poem the best, for I have mastered it in some ways.
I have been a Sears catalog, a Merry-go-round, and a rabbit.
My pages, ponies, and carrot munching teeth show you this, right?
Personification makes me feel safe, flows over my dendrites gladly.
My muse gets excited and begins typing before I have time to agree.
I have been a pirate's parrot, and a Iron's spray bottle.
I have been a mountain range, and a mouse's mistress.
Once you get the hang of it, you may feel joy and excitement.
Developing more character traits like self-respect and self-control
is a mere sideline benefit. Personification. My favorite poetry type.
Come sit by me, we can write your first one together, my friend.
It sure took me a while to get the hang of that bat.
The grip just wasn’t right.
With a friends’ help, I swung and hit;
probably, hundreds of times.
In the end, I felt that I could,
smack a mountain and send it sailing for yards,
with that bat.
Softball was a blast, when I was a teen;
Every swing of that bat; every ball that I smacked;
swelled my chest with pride.
A dusty slide into home base;
Jettisoned me into ego-space;
oh, it took awhile to come back down to earth.
There were, cheers from the bleachers
and the smell of popcorn,
hot dogs and soda pop permeated the air,
like a winter fog.
Perhaps it was those succulent scents, more than the cheers, that kept us winning.
Welcome to our world, when you step through the door,
Welcome to a world of loosing weight, more and more,
A plan of healthy eating, for you can hardly call it a diet,
From morning till night you munch, it certainly keeps you quiet,
Once you get the hang of it, its as easy as A,B,C,
The lbs dropping off for all to see,
All you have to do is count points,
Now so much less weight, to strain your joints,
Carrot cakes, and muffins, cherry bakewells and ice cream,
The weight watchers plan, is certainly a dream,
Curries and Lasagne, Potato wedges, fish pie,
All waiting, just for you to try,
Chocolate bars that when you eat, don’t scream more,
All of this when you walk through the door,
SO WHY DON’T YOU, do as I have done,
Join the class and have some fun,
At the moment, I have lost almost a stone,
So I am going to treat myself to an ice cream cone,
Only 4lbs to go, then I will have lost 10% of my body weight,
This plan really is a piece of cake,
So welcome to our world, just step in,
If you to, would like to be slim.
Pat Dring
I've just come to realize
Probably some of you don't know
How to speak the hillbilly language
So, I'll show you how to give it a go
We call them crayfish, crawdads
Cause they're not really a fish at all
A skunk we call a polecat
You better run and hope you don't fall
You say you all, we say ya'll
We just shortened it a bit
You say potato, we say tater
Are you startin to get the hang of it
We call a bag a paper sack
And sometimes it a poke
We say wanna hear a funny
But you say wanna hear a joke
Pretty close to you is pert near to us
And the devil is the booger man
Your bathroom is our outhouse
And a skillet is a frying pan
These are a few of the words we use
Almost everyday
I'll teach you more Hillbilly Language
The next time I pass your way
I got a hudl for Christmas
And I don't know what to do
Its full of little gadgets
I haven't got a clue.
There's Facebook and there's Google
There's YouTube Twitter too
When I try and find one
I end up in a stew.
I tried to write a message
But kept pressing the wrong key
My family say its easy
Ah but they're not me.
I do like my little hudl though
I'm sure I will be fine
One day I will get the hang of it
But its going to take some time.
To feel superb,
use a verb in
hyperboles!
I teach English/Writing classes at the high school level. Am doing poetry in 3 classes right now and decided to try a new style. Than-Bauk is kind of fun once you get the hang of it. One class really got into it and we wrote 6 poems in less than 30 minutes! Love it when the muse hits!!!
I love a meal with chopsticks –
It’s elegant and fun.
I’m slowly eating, bit by bit,
When forkers are all done.
Each morsel’s daintily procured
And lifted to one’s lips;
Some concentration’s needed
So the food stays in its grips.
But once you get the hang of it,
You’ll dine with new delight,
A feeling of accomplishment
In every single bite.
Some people find it challenging,
But everybody should
Discover just how pleasant
It could be to eat with wood!
by Bob Moore ©2018
I don’t like Ikea, the place is like a maze
if my wife was not with me, I’d be lost in there for days
following the arrows, as you go from place to place
people must have hours to spare, as they stroll at a funeral pace.
they all walk at 3 abreast, leave no room for getting past
then you see a little gap, and you squeeze through at last
and there’s that bloody arrow, stretching on around the bend
from the front door to the backdoor, feels like it will never end
just want to buy a little thing, but once you’re on that track
there is nowhere to pay for it, the checkouts at the back
the arrows on the pathway, so in circles you must go
and try to pass the women, as they stroll along so slow.
Through lounge rooms, bedrooms, kitchens, and all rooms in between
people try out beds and chairs, see sights you’ve never seen
flat packs fill up shelves and shelves, of things which you can build
a wonderland for the handyman, whose dreams are now fulfilled
You just need your screwdriver, flat and Phillips head,
a hammer and a pencil, all instructions can be read
you’ll soon get the hang of it, all the pieces together go
three or four “Billy” bookshelves, and you will be a pro.
And now the end has come in sight, or is it a mirage
I can see the checkout, but flat pack shelves are looming large
we will just look in aisle ten, she says without a smile
there may be things, that I can use, it will only take a while
Now we’re in the carpark, at last I’m feeling free
but I’m looking at the ground. I’m lost, cause I can’t see
the arrows I am looking for, to find which way to go.
but I’ll be ok as soon as I, can find my car I know.
Time for us to go to Lindt, the chocolate shop across the way
and she will buy some chocolate, so I’ll come another day
That’s not the only reason, I know she likes them too
and she needs me there to lift those packs, it’s the least that I can do.
Learn how to play Sudoku was recently asked of me,
Sure no problem I thought, how hard could it be?
I studied the grid of nine squares partially filled with numbers,
How do I get them to add up, I had started to wonder?
The more I looked at the page, the harder it certainly got,
To makes sense of the game, I most definitely could not.
After three days I gave in and looked at a beginner’s guide,
Read up on the rules of the game, that had to be applied.
Finally I managed to comprehend, oh how daft of me,
I had to fit the numbers into grids of three times by three.
It’s not really that hard at all, my understanding was a little restricted
Once you get the hang of it, I warn you it gets very addictive.
At night, he dons the mask, and closes tight his eyes.
He pulls back on the stick, and heads up to the skies.
The wind is whistling around the canopy.
Besides the panel light, none far as eyes can see.
His breathing’s somewhat forced, more than a little bit;
He’s told it will take time to get the hang of it.
He’s soaring through the clouds; he knows because the night,
Once filled with points of light, is strangely opaque white.
He smiles to think the fog is slowly rolling in,
For that’s where dreams are found and difficulty ends.
The autopilot set, he doesn’t fight the yawn.
Then tipping to the east, looks forward to the dawn.
Verse I
Don't ask for presents
and check your stockings
hanging by the fire place where the log crackles;
you are in for a big surprise this quite evening:
kids, dance with Santa on snowy Christmas's Eve...
put on the best smile and hear the reindeer's bells!
Chorus:
Kids, dance with Santa and swing your legs and arms 'till you fall;
jump up, go around once, stop, jump up, go around twice,
until his tired feet ache and you laugh at his funny groans!
Get the hang of it, dance with him he's so nice...
hold on, stay on the dance floor...see Santa's belly bounce!
Kids, dance with Santa and sing a lovely carol!
Verse II
Don't complain like grouches, and tell him he's another chubby Grinch;
he is a different kind of Santa...he doesn't bring any expensive gifts!
Oh, no Santa is not stingy, just the oldest messenger of good cheers;
you may be disappointed a lot, but please don't tarnish his image!
He came here to teach you the new Christmas dance with rhythm;
watch his steps and learn to dance within the allowed range!
Ending:
I don't like those long faces, kids dance with Santa on this Christmas Eve;
you'll forget about your presents expectations...you wouldn't want to leave!
Entered in Deborah Guzzi's Holiday Songs In Poetry Form. Style: Moderate Rock Ballad.
I will set my song to music and publish it next year. I doesn't have a melody to be sung
to.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Of late, I seem unable
To write a song or fable.
Perhaps it’s too much caffeine;
I seem to be unstable.
Now recently, I’m shaking;
My muscles have been aching.
I may be lacking protein,
Or maybe I’m just faking.
A certain strange malodor;
Those germs are all freeloaders.
Perhaps it is my hygiene,
My wife complained, I showed her.
Perhaps it’s too much caffeine,
I may be lacking protein.
Of late, I seem unable;
Perhaps it is my hygiene.
----------
Another of the 4 stanza poems where the 4th is constructed from the non-rhyming lines from first 3 and the first line from the first.
This one is 7 syllables throughout, so depending on the definition of a jueju, it fits that category, as described in "Dawn song".
It's also fairly stupid, just trying to get the hang of this 4th stanza as
a summary of the first 3...
We never think of how we breathe
Unless we’re stuck with asthma;
And who wastes thoughts on blood, unless
We’re weak and needing plasma?
We use our eyes to focus
‘Til we suddenly can’t see;
And run for tennis balls until
There’s pain inside the knee.
If things are fine, our bodies
Let us run on automatic,
But unexpected changes may make
Life a bit traumatic.
And so we switch to manual
And contemplate each move,
Until we get the hang of things
And settle in a groove.
For when our gears begin to go
We must accept the fact
That no one gets through life with all
Their body parts intact.
Love one another do
not stutter, say it
loud and say it proud.
Be renowned for love.
Let Lord Jesus pronounce
our words. The word is
true, the message need
not be confused.
Lord Jesus is in our hearts,
the message is “love one
another” love your neighbour,
show love to a complete
stranger.
Get the hang of this, even with
the slips and trips and life will be bliss.
Form:
never hanging up
always being there
never will be used to it
welcome mat still shining
never hanging up
encouraging words forever endless
never will be comfortable with it
taking her coat anyway
never hanging up
eyes never rolling either way
never will get the hang of it
preparing her favorite adult beverage still
never hanging up
platonic chemistry intact
never will come close to loosening up
still cuts her cell phone off for the duration