Best Goon Poems


Premium Member Hoodlum-Triple Collaboration With Jan Allison and Marti Sutherland

I followed that cad Robyn Hood 
and discovered he's up to no good 
An expert at cheating 
bad mouthing and bleating 
His actions I've not understood

Oh how awful that folks feel so glum
Many now call him Robyn Hoodlum
He's a raunchy thief
who brought them to grief
He preyed on the blind, deaf, and dumb

Robyn has folks dancing like Muppets 
He loves to treat them like puppets 
He tugs at their strings 
and then clips their wings 
No wonder their confidence plummets

Heard the sheriff will arrest him soon
Robyn will be singing a new tune
While sitting in jail
He will cry and wail
In sorrow for acting like a goon

Sheriff found out Robyn is a girl
Her real name is Antoinette Pearl
Robyn Hoodlum wed
Now the sheriff is dead
and Robyn is engaged to an earl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fairytale plot by Jan Allison, Marti Sutherland, and Lin Lane
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goon, silly,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Slanging It Up Down Under

In the land of Oz, we're all fair dinkum,
Every bloke, Sheila and Healer too.
By crikey mate, if you get us started,
You'll regret the day I guarantee you.

In bonza days some may call hard yakka,
With an esky chockers and a barbie that blares.
Strewth! I tell you even our bogans are grouse,
Where else can you find platypodes and Koala Bears?

So spend an arvo or two and don't be a bludger,
Smoke a durry and blow the froth off a few.
You'll be saying "Man, that was a bloody ripper",
So get off your dunny and tell a furphy or two!

If you're thinkin' of comin' over, but not too sure,
Just have a go, ya mug, you may just find.
The best place to go walkabout and make new friends,
But don't be a goose and leave your goon bag behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We're as Aussie as "You Beaut",

We're as Aussie as the Holden ute.

We're as Aussie as a kangaroo,

We're as Aussie as we're "True Blue".
© White Wolf  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goon, fun, tribute,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mobile Phone Predictive Texting Blues

I've bought a brand new mabel fern,
	expansive, I can tell you,
	when I've learned just how it words
	I'll have a go and bell you.
	It's got  five ponds of crudity
	which should last me a moth
	but just for now I'm sending taxis
	and this is the firk one off.

	I've learned to use the camilla, 
	and music files called empty trees
	which quite impressed my goon ladle
	who wished she had one of these.
	The only treble that I'm having
	is the massages I type out
	keep changing anatomically, don't know what that's about.
	I may just take it back  and give the ship assassin what for,
	and get my monkey refunded and find another store.
	Hope you and the wolf are in good hearth.
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goon, humorous,
Form:

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Stormy October Night

On a cold, stormy October night, 
    In the hours of lingering twilight. 
      Beneath the haunting full moon, 
        Brought a white ghostly goon, 
          Screaming fears of an ancient rune. 

  The wind driven underneath eaves, 
    Interlacing through trees and leaves, 
      Scratching on the window-glass, 
        With intense bitterness as shadows pass.  
          Slumber and dreams haunted by the crass,
            Slow, flowing sand in the hourglass. 

  Tap, tap, tap we hear at the door. 
    In terror, open the door. There, four 
      Puddles of water left on the floor. 
        Darkness peering in beneath
          The fog, the dog, a bone between its teeth.


10/13/2022

12-16 Lines Of A Scary Halloween Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goon, horror,
Form: Rhyme

Do I Think To Feel, Or Feel To Think?

Too shy to speak; to say all that I feel,
my mind subjected to thinking things through,
and 'what if' factors mock and cloud my view,
no longer knowing what is fake or real,
emotions sprawl and mentally congeal,
until I hide inside my shell and rue
the things I never said and didn't do,
because my thinking made them all surreal.

I think I need to stop this thinking soon
and say the things I feel, then hope and pray,
that you will understand, I'm not a goon,
but want to love you in every way,
beneath the sun and under silver moon,
as heart begins to rule the head today.
Categories: goon, love
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Life's No Cartoon-Rondeau

Life's no cartoon, perhaps on the moon? 
   Must I live as a laughing goon? 
   I won't make the heart not matter! 
   Nor observe the world, just shatter! 
   My poetry is not one of a loon.

   Poetry where, I reach your soul.
   Sparkling spots,and those dark as coal! 
   I shall hold your soul, it does matter.
   Life's no cartoon!

   Rarely, an image I do post!
   My poetry is to count most!
   Ah, to write with words of beauty and continuity.
   Poetry that lifts humanity.
   Please, do not pen meaningless ghosts.
   Life's no cartoon!


                    3/5/2021
                      ~ 4~

             My Very First Rondeau


      Added suggestions to Soup Mail, please.
Categories: goon, life, philosophy, poetry,
Form: Rondeau


The Perfectionist Is Listening

The Perfectionist is Listening

the rich are committing suicide
and taking us with them
the prosthetic limbed bastards
Fort Darwin tottering on fewer stilts
once the masters of the universe
presently picking through garbage
looking for an Icarus to pilot
some way back among the clouds
their telepathic goon squads 
armed with the hard on of God
squat in the darkness of doorways
lightning strikes all around
even their machines were clairvoyant
several thousand watts went up my leg
shorting out the only attention span I own
left me perforated but not lacy
wearing all my masks all the time 
fragments of self are selves
in a bulemic deconstruction
where form and content 
mud wrestle incessantly for attention
on the crazy train to 3 color hell
the protagonists the antagonists
fornicators masturbators liquidators
pariahs and unlicensed poets
preaching hellstone and brimfire
apparently the ancient gods still rule 
in their madhouse heaven
petulant and stupid gods 
thought their figures included all the angles
sword point conversions gun point perversions
now their carcasses are steppingstones
what quirk of an infinite being
makes this burning plague village 
of a planet so alone and necessary
of course none of this is protection
it's psywar out there kids 
better find where they hid your dossier
mesmerized of the world unite
you have nothing to lose
but your failed methods of addressing reality
said his twisting tongue
struggling for ratings like any media
the soul cannot erase it can only go sightless
a phantom trapped in melancholy
when we were built to dance 
with the twinkling stars
he finally learned to undestroy memory
being an ascended master of non sequitur
carried aloft in the arms of Mother Goose
his metabolic hurricane of why
an inferno of intrigue and superstition
our embryo-headed UFO ruling class 
have me inside their fence of skulls
an investment in diagram futures
the idiots



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories: goon, slam, universe,
Form: Free verse

Old Folk Dance

mabe theyer not in tune
those old goon
no how to bloon
they hump and bump
some jump
to the music romance
with that
OLD FOLK DANCE
Categories: goon, adventure, dance, freedom,
Form: Light Verse

Moon

Moon? Boon!
Croon? Spoon?
Soon? Goon!
Categories: goon, satire,
Form: Rhyme

Kill a Beat 2

I bring hit after hit like a boxer
You haters' inconsistent
Everybody's on the same vibe
Mine's kinda' different
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop

Minor in poetry, fine-arts major

Doctor goon on deck, call this a fear-factor

I'm going in, but I ain't got no curfew

I son a lot of you, it's like I birth you

Got a lot of verses, but this ain't a Bible

Fallout when you hear this, I ain't liable

Ain't talking 'bout tearing, but the beats R.I.P

Didn't sell a lot of tracks, but I got D.O.E

Put you up on game, my hustle's M.O.E

Music over everything, ain't moving 'D'

I got cash like the bank, I sell CD's

Smells funny, tickled my nose, I might sneeze

You would think I'm water, the way I flow

I'm just like some dynamite, bound to blow

Act like you're in a recliner, lay back

If I ain't on fire, then why they say that?

Feature, feature, can I get a feature

So far ahead I sit on competition--bleacher

My Raps' like a bunch of apartment buildings, complex

Got chicks on my jock', ain't talking 'bout sex

I'm so different, it's magnificent

Haters want me to fall, but that's not how the script went

Thing's fishy, I ain't gettin' caught in that net

Just killed the beat, without breaking a sweat
Categories: goon, hip hop, humorous, life,
Form: Lyric

How Gambling Haram Harms

Our religion forbids all 
games of chance guys
We ain't allowed to 
indulge in that harmful 
enterprise
But no one can claim that 
gambling is at all wise

To more has gambling 
brought much misery 
and misfortune
Trying your luck that 
way brings bad luck to 
this money goon! 

So goes without saying, 
no need of elaborating
that harmful and 
addictive are casinos and 
gambling

Quick money is the lure
but gambling is such an 
addictive trap 
Indeed a vicious circle it 
is for sure
and you can 'bet' my 
warnings ain't crap! 

The casino wheel doesn't 
always tip the scales in 
your favour many times
bringing down people 
from heights of 
immense affluence 
to the abyss of poverty 
and monetary crimes
as gamblers act as if 
'under the influence'

God only wished us to 
not be thus corrupt
for He foresaw most 
gamblers going bankrupt

To gamble is sin
and you don't always 
win

You might end up losing 
even the little you had
from bad to worse, 
tycoon hero to zero, alas 
too sad


I amn't uselessly rambling
Better stay away from 
gambling

A compulsive gambler 
frequenting the casino
might forever court ill-
luck you know
from slot machine back 
to home, to and fro! 
As to others his bucks 
shall flow.
Categories: goon, abuse, addiction, games,
Form: Didactic

Premium Member My Family Tree

Explorin' the branches of the family tree can be rather dicey.
Some ancestors could be famous, humdrum er downright spicy!
With bated breath I decided to take the risk and check around.
I wasn't all that enthralled about some of the dudes that I found!

Seems that in the distant past a member of my family strain,
Was a notorious pirate maraudin' the boundless Spanish Main!
Another was a nefarious cattle rustler ever on the vamoose,
'Til a posse tracked him down and left him danglin' from a noose!

One forebear, a scoundrel who specialized in robbin' trains,
Was ensconced fer life in a cozy cell, detained in clankin' chains!
A rowdy ancestor caused a ruckus in a Cripple Creek saloon;
The high sheriff done him in one fateful August afternoon!

My lineage included a business lady of whom I proudly spoke,
'Til it was revealed she was a soiled dove, dismayin' this poor bloke!
My great-grandpa was caught dispensin' jugs of potent 'shine!
Revenooers busted him resultin' in a term in jail and a hefty fine!

A distant uncle was a goon in a notorious gangster mob.
He met his Maker heistin' a bank they were tryin' to rob!
I proffered a prayer as I examined my tragic family tree:
"Lord, may a sturdy twig adorn this tree and let it begin with me!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

Entry for Judy Konos' "Relatives" Contest
Categories: goon, family, humorous,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Shootin' Pool On Cd

At the local bar one friday night, we were shootin' pool and getting tight,
Just havin' fun in the neon light, yea, everything was cool, out a sight!
Now I've played pool for years on end, my stick play is cool, sometimes I win,
With 2 balls down, I still played the same, I'd bought the last round and hadn't won a game,

Yea, this luck of mine sure seemed strange, Ol' Biggin' shot fine, as the eight ball remained,
As he walked to the table to shoot the eight ball, his win was probable, as he made his call:
"Eight ball in the side chump!!"...Ol' Biggin' did say,
While my throat became a lump, as he cued his play,

Then the shot went to pocket the eight, and I couldn't believe what I saw,
Ol' Biggin' blocked his scratch on the eight, yea, didn't let the cue ball fall,
So I told him: "That sure is Jive!" as he stood and stared at me,
His eyes looked like he was fried, and Ol' Biggin' stood 6 foot 3,

Then he called me a geek! so I called him a goon! and so to speak......a Big baboon!
When he called me a fool! I called him a twerp! and that snatched his cool! so he snatched
my shirt,
What happened next was my surprise! Ole Biggin' landed left, right between my eyes!
And I hit the floor so hard, no slack!  Yea! Biggin' tore the shirt right off my back!

And I felt the swellin' layin' on the floor, with Ol' Biggin' yellin' and wantin' more!
So as I was getting up and could hardly see! I swung an upper cut, you know where that
might be?
Uh! Huh! you're right...but is it cruel? when he turned out my light and snatched my cool,
So should the moral of the story go like this?: "Don't play pool if it' pool like his"  Or:
"If you play pool....It's just another game of: Don't snatch that, cool!"
Categories: goon,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Tit For Tat

An old man walked into town at noon,
And met a fat-looking dangerous goon.

“Give me all your money”, the goon said, brisk,
“Or else your life’s at a very high risk".

The old man put on a very frightened look,
Took out his wallet, and gave it to the crook.

The thug then exclaimed, “I took you in for fun",
"I hadn’t any bullets - empty was my gun".

To that, the man said, "Yours isn’t any worse."
Mabye you should take a look inside my purse".
© Sneha Rv  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: goon, funny,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member The Challenge of Eating French Onion Soup

My favorite dining place in town is a place called La Baguette.
'Tis a quaint French café and I haven't found its equal yet.
They serve the most scrumptious French onion soup west of Gay Paree,
And it is slurped by discriminating snobs as well as we bourgeoisie!

They serve other grub such as baguettes and burgundy beef stews,
Escargot, pate, salad maison and an assortment of cheese fondues.
And Monday through Friday they ladle bowls of soup du jour,
But each and every day they serve French onion soup for sure!

Eating French onion soup is a challenge and requires a bit of skill,
Especially, dealing with the stringy cheese in that delectable swill.
The glob of provolone clings like a boa constrictor to my spoon,
And dangles from my noble chin making me look somewhat like a goon!

De mal en pis (just when my dilemma has gone from bad to worse),
Faire bonne mine (to put a good face on matters) I tend to curse.
To save face, next time I'll ask the waiter, "S'il vous plait (if you please),
I'll have a bowl of your French onion soup sans that stringy cheese!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt,USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Categories: goon, food, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
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