Best Hassle Poems | Poetry

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THE HASSLE OF THE DUVET by Ashton, Darryl
Joyful Affair Bars The Haze, Hassle, And Drop by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Too much hassle by Harrell, Toquyen
THE SUPERMARKET CHECKOUT QUEUE HASSLE by Ashton, Darryl
Hassle by Jetaime, Agatha
HASSLE - IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN by Ashton, Darryl
THE AUTOMATED PHONE-IN HASSLE by Ashton, Darryl
THE AUTOMATED UTILITIES HASSLE by Ashton, Darryl
Hassle by Khankhana, Daljit

View all new Hassle Poems

The Best Hassle Poems

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Castle on the Hill

Entering the castle and an evil fog enveloped me
As on the bastions of the fortress I roamed.
Fear gripped me as I fell faint on my knee.
Men lay dead on the hillside as horses’ mouths foamed.

The bloody battle was won it seemed,
Bounty purloined but at what a price.
Yet in my ears I could still hear how soldiers screamed,
No riches could make them happy nor life suffice.

The fog dissipated and a vortex took me down
Inside the castle’s dark and hideous caves,
Chained to the wall was the skeleton of a clown,
While on the rack I heard the groans of condemned knaves.

Tears in my eyes, I was momentarily blinded
I lost my way in the putrid alleys of the castle
I fell and for a while was truly winded,
As a pair of hands picked me up without further hassle.

The kitchen was warm and full of savoury smells
A robust man offered me scones and a cup of hot tea.
From far off I heard the peals of joyous bells
“Be careful of ghosts,” he laughed with obvious glee.

22 April 2016
Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron

Placed 2

Voted POTD on 23 April 2016


Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016


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When I Cry

Majestic illusions, dwell in my mind,
my special place that is only mine.

Filled with miracles, given through love,
my little heaven , when life gets tough.

A voyage I take, no one else is here,
I feel no sadness, I feel no fear.

The quietness, and serenity of an ocean voice,
waves coming softly, the air so moist.

Peace all around, no hassle of life,
my safe Haven of refugee, whenever I cry.


Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2007


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MyTOPIA

 ~MyTOPIA~
 
A sip of tea in my Magic Cup.
A fancy bowl for my little pup.
Faraway from a world corrupt.
I found reason and meaning to reconstruct.
 
By day I live under the perfect sun.
I relive a life where unhappiness~ is undone.
From the time I opened this door my life slowly begun.
I unlocked the purpose that unites us* all as one*
 
By night I isolate my dreams in my log cabin. 
A pillow case made of, worry free feeling of satin.
My harmony keeps me from thoughts so devil-in.
My moon shines in the river with beautiful waves of medieval Latin. 
 
My island based entirely on reason, of insanity hassle.
A sweet paradise entwined by the meshed flower tassel.
My own fantasy surrounded by a flawless pharrell castle.
Governed by my own golden state temple Utopian idea vassal.
 
by;p.d.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011


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SATAN OSCILLATE MY METALLIC SONATAS

*****To the naked EYE, this poem may seem like gibberish,
but I assure you it is loaded with 24 palindromes,
3 palindrome phrases, 1 hidden palindrome phrase,
and is chock full with enormous wordplay...
oh and one more palindrome in this description. 
Can you find more? I challenge you word freaks!*****


____SATAN OSCILLATE MY METALLIC SONATAS____

Last night, around eleven or so, I decided to paint a pink castle.
To my dismay, on display, is what looks more like a pink asshole.
Picasso would've been so proud!
Today, upon recording nothing short of a colossal debacle,
I've chosen to
utilize the eyes of a hostile apostle.
Tossing docile scribble, I'm scribing.
Describing life like a diatribe conniving REVIVER at a revival.

LIVE EVIL!

Palindrome EYE to the side of my tribe.
Get in line, standing at the hands of HANNA.

PULL UP.

RISE AND VOTE SIR!

EYE
LEVEL 
to 
NUN'S
BOOB.

WOW!

We OTTO-matically 
POP a PEEP at NOON!
DAD got so damn mad he DID the DEED
and split three XANAX with his MADAM and MOM!
(ALA the ABBA GIG way back in them AHA kookie KOOK days)

So anyways...
Back to peek hassle!
Do ya' think he might like ta' take a stab at my STATS?


*****(this was fun as fun can be:
hope you have half as much fun with it as I did:)*****

~JSLambert


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014


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Gold-digger

Well, now that I am registered officially,
into the ranks of those who search and dig,
for gold, and paper that's done and serialized,
or plastic that buys the pleasures on high,
I might as well sit down and think hard,
about all that I will buy with gold and paper,
serialized and plastic that shines,

First a bouquet for mama to say 'thank you'.
and wish her sunshine and rainbows too,
and not sun to scorch her chocolate skin,
but rainbows to herald goodwill and peace.

Then I might try to buy a voice, as loud as,
can be to join all the others that sound,
and call for what a child needs to grow and sing,
the time to play, learn and be loved, more time.

Most of all, I'll ask not to buy this one, it is priceless,
true friends to love now, forever and always, eternally
not perfect because I am far from the best,
but whose love, like mine, does not need justification.

So you see, what I want needs just a penny to buy,
and what I need wants no money to purchase,
so why the hassle to wear a veil and deceit,
to go down the vents, with spade and pans.

And now I will pay the price it will take
to be unregistered officially from the ranks,
of those who dig and search, for gold and paper,
maybe plastic that shines and buys,
and if you want and care, here I offer,
my friendship with no charge, no price tag.


Copyright © Juliet Maruru | Year Posted 2008


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The Earl of Pence

'Twas a dark and stormy night! (OK - so I'm being a tad histrionic!)
The Earl of Pence was lounging by the fire sipping his gin and tonic.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared sending shivers down his spine.
Even his hound, Lord Percival, was so upset that he began to whine!

'Twas well-known thereabouts that phantoms haunted the earl's castle,
And on such frightful nights they were bound to cause a spooky hassle.
Nefarious deeds had occurred within Penceshire Castle walls in the past,
And were replayed in 'spirited' form leaving generations of earls aghast!

A shriek from the bowels of the castle sent the dog into howling fits,
And brought the earl bounding to his feet, scaring him out of his wits!
The blood-curdling screams were from a former Earl of Pence who in 1642,
Was hung by his thumbs in the dungeon for a fair maiden that he slew!

Suddenly, the ancient organ in the hall began playing eerie chords.
Heard on the floor above was rowdy dancing by ladies, knights and lords.
Ghastly emanations from the past paraded through the terrified earl's room,
Antecedents all, leering and grinning and predicting the anxious earl's doom!

Lord Percival sensing trouble long before, across the moat had bolted!
The storm subsided and the apparitions faded leaving the earl quite jolted!
He felt a bony hand upon his shoulder that took away his final breath.
'Twas his valet who offered a gin and tonic to the earl who now lay in death!


Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2014


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The Poetry Pub

My friends who Ive missed ive been gone awhile working on a book 
and while working on that book i had a idea i know thats scary huh? 

Well I wanted to start a group or site that just wasnt out there for poets a get togather 
almost bar or pub enviroment.
a place free of the clowns who come on these sites only to hassle fellow poets.

And I have created just that a invite only site or as i call it the poetry pub.
Its got chat rooms message boards music you can upload photos
start your own groups.

i started it i run it so  all i need is people to be part of it.
its free to join and its invite only please check it out if ya wanna be part of a one of a kind 
site    then send me a soup mail  all i need is for yato send me your email and i'll send ya a 
invite its that easy Fellow souper gary la buda  is already a memeber and if you have any 
doubts just ask him about the site 

please join it will be something you truely wont regret 
thank you my friends  drop me a line and come join  the poetry pub.
grab a pint and join some good friends 

once again no catches  no bs please contact me 
thank you my friends


Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2010


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Queen of my Eternity

Queen of my castle,
Your wish is my command.
Nothing is a hassle..
For I’ll do as you demand!

Queen of my universe,
Tell me what you desire.
If worshipping you is my curse,
Let me roll in your fire

Queen of my day and night,
Have your way and hold me tight!

Queen of my eternity,
My heart does confess;
That my only activity,
Is loving you with all that I possess!

Queen of my earth,
Rain on me and watch my growth
My love since before my birth,
Adoring you is my solemn oath!

Queen of my life,
I’ll love you after my last breath…
The one who will be my wife
My queen even after death!


Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2011


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Rhythms Of The Heart



We try our best to maintain good rhythm But at times life gets in the way The every day challenges of modern living The demands we face each day The greatest reward we receive in the end Is happiness and true contentment At peace with the world and all things pure Not harbouring any resentment The ultimate aspiration of every human Is a journey free from hassle Filled with many accomplishments Where your home is really your castle Rhythm is an extremely important part Of contentment and a happy life Good rhythm lends us a sense of well being A journey free from strife © Jack Ellison 2014


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014


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THE AUTOMATED PHONE-IN HASSLE

Today I tried to make a call,
Insurance query, that was all.
I’d hoped to talk to someone live
Who answered queries, nine–to–
five.

Instead came a recorded voice
That told me I must make a 
choice.
The voice explained that they 
could clearly
Process my own type of query.

If I would hear the options given
And choose a number one to seven,
Then “press” the one that’s right 
for me
And I’d be answered instantly.

I listened hard to all the list
But lots of what was said I missed.
So though it taxed my ageing brain
I listened to the list again.

At first I thought that option three
Was probably the one for me’
But then it seemed that option four
Might suit my query even more.

I made my choice with breath abated,
Pressed on option four and waited,
Hoping, as I’d made a start,
It meant I would get the right 
department.

I listened then to various rings,
The buzzings, clicks and tones and 
things.
Which made me think in sudden dread,
That they might cut me off instead.

At last, I heard a constant ring,
Which obviously I hoped would 
bring
A human person who was free
To talk about my policy.

The ringing stopped, I heard a click,
I got my question ready quick.
A voice came on! But oh, the pain,
A flippin’ record once again!

The voice said they would take my 
question,
Once the lines had less congestion.
Which, of course, I swiftly knew,
Meant I was in a bloody queue.

Soon I thought I’d turn to violence
When I got some dreadful silence,
But at last a sound came through…
Recorded music! Dead on cue!

A voice kept cutting in to say
They’re sorry for the long delay.
But finally a real girl came
To ask me would I give my name.

Then came’ the pause, computer 
checks!
I guessed what she would ask me 
next,
And sure enough, she made the 
plea – 
They’d have to check security!

I answered questions one by one,
My date of birth, and then my mum,
I said her maiden name was Wyatt,
But then! Oh no! The phone went 
quiet!

Someone somewhere had forgotten…
Pulled a plug or pressed a button.
All my waiting on the line
Had been a total waste of time.

There was no way I’d try again,
I really couldn’t stand the strain!
I’ve found another way that’s better,
Just buy a stamp and send a letter!

BY
DARRYL ASHTON


Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2014


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The Wilderness Part 2

Why not build a building of the real self,
You mind has jumped off it’s cliff,
Having nothing left of itself,
With the old man dead,
Where is the dread,
Live life instead!

There is nothing left,
But God within myself,
For I have been in a hassle,
In my worldly castle with my selves!

Here is the way it goes in hassle’s,
Worldly castle,
My aware said, I do declare,
To my mind, in times line,
Who said to my brain,
You’re lame,
Now my lame brain,
Said, to my flesh,
You’re the very last,
To see,
Twiddle Dee,
The mind’s creation for you to be!

Now that we see our devils,
Lets get our lives on the level,
For there is no devils,
Only a house divided,
Has been decided!
You can now see the cure,
That has been provided!

Just your outer parts out of line,
Created a wilderness in your mind,
In life’s time line!
So sit and pine no more,
No need to walk the floor,
Your mind created your life’s W- - - e!
Read about it in your bible some more,
Living with her has been such a chore,

So now I’ve opened the real door,
Of my inner world to explore,
It’s the real world,
Not the world in peril,
But my real pearl, of God’s world! 

One soul, one heart at a time,
With love’s kind,
Dane & Carolyn!
Myself I can change,
You, I cannot rearrange,
My love I can give to you,
But I can’t live it through you!

Once enough members of life’s city is built,
The whole world will tilt,
Toward perfection,
In love’s direction,
Toward the city’s election,
Of a world of perfection!

In the building of the city,
Black stones are a pity,
White stones build the city,
The carnal mind is a pity,
From the white of the hearts,
Comes a perfect city!

6-22-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2009


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Baksheesh

In for a penny, in for a pound
money makes the world go round.

“Baksheesh, pretty lady, Cleopatra eyes?”
foreign intrigue in a bantering guise.

“What do you want, My Queen?”
“Just for you, right here, behind the screen.”

One dollar, five pounds, the world goes round
in for a penny, in for a pound.

“Oh my beauty, please stay, please.
Come, come here, to my shop, stay for tea?”

“No hassle, so honest, nice things abound!”
Money, not love, makes the world go round.



*Baksheesh means a TIP in arabic.





Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010


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The Waves.

Perfection's never something, 
You can capture oh so well. 
But her beauty burned like gazing, 
At the fires that burn in Hell. 

And people they would beg of her, 
"Let me capture you in photograph." 
But with beauty that was so obscure, 
She'd always turn and laugh. 

She woke up every morning, 
But this was a different one. 
Called an artist that was yearning, 
"We can do this just for fun." 

She stained her lips with rose. 
Painted her cheeks in the fairest rouge. 
Slipped ballet flats upon her toes. 
And in her sundress she found refuge. 

The amateur had no say, 
She had planned the perfect spot. 
She whispered, "I'll lead the way." 
A small price to pay to get the perfect shot. 

Her movements were so delicate, 
It's as if they were devised. 
She used a subtle hand wave to indicate, 
That they had finally arrived. 

You would think you'd see a castle, 
Or maybe a field of green. 
But this enviroment was quite the hassle, 
Maybe her sense of taste wasn't keen. 

She thrusted weeds away, 
Steering clear of twigs and rocks. 
The warm wind made her sundress sway, 
And softly tousled her gold locks. 

Upon a bridge she advanced, 
The planks began to creak. 
The water below her danced, 
And sunset began to peak. 

She lifted her legs with elegance, 
And supported herself with a beam. 
The photographer shuttered in benevolence, 
But followed along with this dangerous scheme. 

It's as if the camera was under a spell; 
As beneath the bridge, waves violentally lashed. 
She threw her arms out and willingly fell, 
As the light grew bright and flashed. 

The tides pulled tight around her. 
They made her twirl and spin. 
And the camera man swore, 
she smiled as they tugged her in. 

Perfection's not that fluent. 
Not something you can capture oh so well. 
But now we have a picture here to prove it, 
As the waves dragged her to Hell.
.


Copyright © Ashley Morrissey | Year Posted 2010


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Word Play Rhyme Skills

I'll dibble dab and squiggle on my pad,
I'm just a lad, and if it's good it's bad
and bad is good, words are misunderstood,
not could, would and should or does and mood.
Food for a dozen with frozen pudding for they are rude.

A lethal laxative in a taxi filling 
butt pants that are underpants and outerpants
either side of the Atlantic due to hectic evolution
of language. Some revolution over rejected tea and taxes
and out came the axes they axed free then we all battled the axis.

The Canadans from Canadia showed loyalty to the Royals,
except the French hens laying eggs that were spoiled, 
but cooked in foil and eaten with bread rolls 
by a man and boy in a Rolls Royce in the wild.
 
If this island was a boat we'd float across the Atlantic and coast
away from countries that all claim they hate us the most.
There's only one Mexico, we've Lidl and Tesco,
Mexico couldn't start a world war for sure,
I've heard about the Alamo, not exactly Waterloo
or bomber planes raining down on you.

I'm not a fan of the EU,
I think it's like FIFA
with corrupt men and thieves wearing football shoes.
Hitler and Himmler in operation and unpopular, 
with no Robin Hood to be robbing the rich.
Fixed round robin football matches on and off the pitch,
they thought they were high and dry,
but caught by those watchin' from the birds eye.

The EU's an empire by the words definition
so we leave, 
we've been in one,
and believe me too, 
it's not hassle free.
For the French and Germans only had small ones,
double entendre.

Hitler had a missing testicle. 
one, two, three, four, only one ball fell in free fall, 
you giggle cus it tickles the testicle of the evil. 
Four men with five balls starting six years of conflict, 
so even hate we find for them, 7 8 we 9 for 10.

Rushing to build an empire they were out done by the Russians
who were outdone by Great Britain.
History repeats there is a limit to what's written, 
so the French and Zee Germans begin again from Belgium.
How dumb, mainland Europe you can't trust them, 
they have children with their cousin, 
eatin' out the dust bin, 
Germ man fine dine with wine.

Trust me the Russians will fight the same enemy, as is evident in time, it will repeat, even with injury they mission, controlled by the system, the communism of old pre written re-risen missionary position.

From Napoleon to ISIS side switching like I ties.
The European Union will end up in crisis so Brexit bye byes.

P.s Canadans  come from Canadia intercontinental dyslexia


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


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HOUSE DRAGONS

If you are plagued with dragons in your basement,
And you have tried, without success, to drive them out.
If you need advice and dragon information,
That's what this short discourse is all about.
                                      
Now, you can't depend on pest exterminators,
Unless, perhaps, you call Saint George himself,
And pied pipers are of very little value,
As all dragons are notoriously tone deaf.
                                     
Since the riddance of house dragons is a hassle
That you might not be prepared to suffer through,
You  might find compromise and coexistence
Is the sensiblest thing that you can do.
                                  
The rumor that all dragons are ferocious,
Is a rumor we could not substantiate.
As to whether they are prone to making mischief,
Its a subject that's still open to debate.
                                    
Some say dragons are quite friendly creatures.
Why, I've heard  that they make gentle, loving pets,
And it's said that if one treats them with affection,
The great, scaly fellows never will forget.

But if you choose a dragon as a house pet,
Your fire insurance rates are sure to soar,
Unless you teach your dragon not to hiccup,
And to breathe into the furnace when he snores.
                                    
On the feeding of domesticated dragons
(We have saved this information till the end):
They feed mainly on bad dreams and mustang nightmares,
And a local politician now and then.


Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2005


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Silver Jubilee

Celtic courtship ended
nineteen eighty-two.
Marriage nuptials blended
"us" from me and you.

Seaside lovers heading 
to the Irish Sea
showcase Christmas wedding, 
silver jubilee.  

Touring without hassle -
Isle of Man’s ferry,
Dublin, Blarney Castle,
Cobh Cork, and Kerry.

Guinness, china, mincemeat
pricey souvenirs;
homespun sweaters compete
lamb’s wool profiteers.


written February 19, 2018
contest:  88 syllables hosted by Joseph May


Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2018


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Drunk on my Tractor

I get up early, a rancher with chores
Hay grows in fields, animals shuffle, roars
Dawn breaks its steel grey grip on my land
And I, well, I have a clear bottle clutched in hand
The first swipe, the one that burns the most
Clears the head, lifts the fog, begins my dose
Work ahead, hours on the grind
A key in my hand, the tractor is mine
Muddy boots climb my ass to my seat
Prepared I am, for this summer heat
A seperate, full bottle in pocket, the engine is turned
Key to the right, another throat tickle burned
Through the gate on into field I find my day anew
View as of now, not quite so askew
The rows start straight, a farmers simple task
They soon grow crooked, I can't find my flask
Fuel runs low, a hassle to refill
Inebriated I find it easy to spill
Unwiser still, I light up a smoke
Finding my way, to field with a toke
Stoned and drunk I arrive at my field
I'll try it again, a little more even keeled
A drunken chuckle to nobody in sight
What a great poem, another forgotten to write
A vision of an old boss, his hatred of me
I laugh, again, to no person I see
He works all day at his nine to five
And I'm drunk on my tractor, happy alive




Copyright © Bic Gi-Sa | Year Posted 2017


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Feminist in the Garden

(Inspired by all the Adams, but with special mention to Frank, 
Dr. Ram, and Christopher)
 
For being a lazy head, see what you reap. . . 
I came from your ribcage while you were asleep!
I’m second but best,  and I’m looking fly,
so get with the program. Wise up, silly guy!

Don’t get all riled now that I’m not your type.
Have you seen a mirror? Talk about hype!
Go look in the stream then and see what I mean.
I’m needing a king because I am the queen!

You can’t lay down laws, for Eve is my name.
And as the First Lady, rule-breaking’s my game!
And neither to me does size matter a bit.
I’m after a man who has style and great wit!

Around here you won’t find a 7-11.
What did you think? That we’d gone to heaven?
Inside this here garden, with plenty to eat,
I’ll cook, but you catch it. . . And bring me a treat!

If being away from my voice is your wish,
then go to that stream there and catch me a fish.
I’ve already trained all the parrots to talk
to entertain me while you’re out on a walk!

Go be by yourself whenever you please.
I’m woman, and I’ve put the creatures at ease.
The mammals already have found me so grand,
I’ve got them all eating right out of my hand.

Because of my wisdom and my patient ways
I think we’ll be living here millions of days.
So don’t bother me and I won’t bother you.
And maybe we’ll even find “fun stuff” to do!

A doctor named  Ram in a garden nearby
is looking for someone who digs a smart guy.
He says that he needs the “intellect’s touch”
I might just go there if you hassle me much!

And off somewhere else I heard of another
named Adam too. Could he be your brother?
I might like to check him out, though his Eve
has told me he fancies himself with a Steve!

And don’t think I’ll leave for your telling me to.
There’s only so much you can get me to do.
That snake tried to give me an apple. The fool.
I rarely eat fruit, but a roast sure sounds cool!

So gird up your loins and catch us a lion.
Then I’ll don my leaf apron and begin fryin’.
And just you remember, in sex’s sweet war,
The one with nice “melons” is surest to score!


For Deborah Guzzi's Eve in Eden Contest
& for P.D.Slam contest (thanks Deb and P.D!)




Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


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Snow White Retold

There once was a girl named Snow White,
Of a poisoned apple she took a bite.
Seven dwarves found her sleeping,
And they began weeping.
Who would fix their supper tonight?

Only one thing could save this fair miss,
A prince must give her a kiss.
There was no time to waste,
So the dwarves they made haste,
To find a prince for their miss.

A prince showed up the next day,
And the dwarves they did not delay.
They showed him Snow White,
Told him of her plight,
Then said, "Kiss her, then be on your way."

The prince gazed down on her face,
And his heart started to race.
What a beautiful maid,
Yes, she must be saved!
To refuse would be a disgrace.

He bent and kissed her awake.
One kiss was all it did take.
They stared at each other,
The dwarves said, "Oh brother!"
"We may have made a mistake."

To the prince they said, "Listen here!"
"We want to be perfectly clear."
"Snow White belongs to us,
So don't raise a fuss,
Or you'll get a swift kick in the rear!"

Snow White was quick to object.
"Now boys, let's show some respect.
The prince saved my life,
And I'll gladly be his wife.
What else could you possibly expect?"

The prince said, "Hey, don't worry guys.
You won't have to say your good-byes.
You can live in the castle,
It won't be a hassle.
Cross my heart, I'm telling no lies."

So Snow White and her prince tied the knot,
And they honey-mooned on a great yacht.
The dwarves stayed behind
And at the castle they dined.
All in all they were pleased with their lot.


Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2011


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The Love-Hate Relationship

Instead of building your house on the sand,
You should build your house on a rock
I can hardly make out if you truly understand
That you are making it difficult for me to express my feelings to you...all you do is mock
Putting up with your eccentricities...hating the truth of what I'm feeling 
You're all around me and I can't refuse to not see it...you've deceived me enough and now, my heart needs healing 
Don't blame me for your lack of motivation...you have the ability to change that, but you treasure pleasure
Because all you're doing is feeding my frustration...that is in my nature 
Trying hard to stay rational 
But, I begin to lose control
Living this life with you in mind
I walked alone on the road of recover
Fear clouds my mind...I wish I could leave them all behind
I believe that I'm strong, brave and unlike any other
I'm sick of this mess of a love-hate relationship
That we've developed - we need to get a grip 
I bit the bullet for you...
Yet you live your life as if I haven't done anything for you...how ungrateful and greedy you've become...who knew... 
The truth caves in in my mind of lost love
Bleeding out lies and leaving all regrets behind
The light will wash away the darkness from up above
True, darling, there's answers to all questions, but some are hard to find 
Haunted because of you're blinding me with your tainted hate and heartlessness 
Exhausted because you are way ahead of me...but I'm tracing the horizon with my fingers, hoping that you won't discourage my childlike happiness 
Living this life with you in mind 
I walked alone on the road of recovery
Fear clouds my mind...I wish I could leave them all behind
I believe that I'm strong, brave and unlike any other
I'm sick of the love-hate relationship
That we've developed - we need to get a grip 
I bit the bullet for you...
Yet you live your life as if I haven't done anything for you...how ungrateful and greedy you've become...who knew... 
I claim my heart's buried love and it reassures me that hate won't take over 
Why are you on the edge all the time? Am I worth anything to you?
I'm coming undone all because you left me in my ruins and I have a heart to forgive you because I don't hold grudges that's for sure
Why did you keep me in the dark? Why won't you wake me up from this nightmare that you painted in my mind's eye out of mere revenge? How cruel of you and you have no clue what I have been through 
Living this life with you in mind 
I walked alone on the road of recover
Fear clouds my mind...I wish I could leave them all behind
I believe that I'm strong, brave and unlike any other
I'm sick of the love-hate relationship
That we've developed - we need to get a grip 
I bit the bullet for you...
Yet you live your life as if I haven't done anything for you...how ungrateful and greedy you've become...who knew... 
We have a lot to learn these days
In remorse flames, I burn in many ways 
I am driven crazy by your stubborn actions
Our interactions...our affections...they have all turned to infections - seeing me suffer these pangs of rage makes you feel these satisfactions? 
You keep on playing your mind games (kindness is what you lack)
You were calling me awful names (behind my back)
And then you say that you love me 
I'm thinking of what to do endlessly
I thought you were different from the evilness I see everywhere
Now I see your true colors while you live without a care 
Don't forget what I've done for your sake
Do regret ripping apart what was beautiful between us...now I know what it's like to have a heartache
You are a rock, but soon you'll reduce to sand
You are wishing upon me harm and I don't quite understand
Why all you do is mock
All you do is mock
All you do is mock
You walk away and vanish in the mist...you echo your "good riddance", leaving me to waste away
Are you in Faraway Land? All I do is hold up my fist, like the warrior that has accepted his fate of dismay 
Don't watch over me, fantasies that are all but sugarcoated lies
Don't throw me to and fro, for I'm not a toy to be manipulated with...I had enough with your hopeless cries
You're not listening ...
You're talking and hissing ...
All you do is mock...
Cease your mindless talk...
The photographs of both of us without a fear
Makes me think of the times I spent with you
You were the sunrise and I was the blue sky
Whatever happened to that? Did it disappear?
You made me smile, but now I frown because that's all I could do 
I miss the old you...
But the new you stole it away
I was sick with the love flu
The moments you made my day 
Don't mock me in my grieving process
Just because you can't relate to my distress
It will take a while 
To earn back my trust
I didn't run that extra mile 
Don't mock me or my hopes will turn to rust 
My heart might bust
My heart might bust 
I won't let love be reduced to dust 
Don't give in to your heart's foolish lust

Why did you build your house on the sand? 
Don't give up yet, start over, work hard and your efforts will not be unknown 
I'm glad that you are starting to understand 
It's a must to build my house on the rock, but I'm not doing it on my own
You tore down the walls
You haven't answered your calls 
But I'm willing to work things out without a hassle and mindless talk
Together, we will build and build and build until we have a castle on a rock
Paradise is close at hand because we took a stand 
Let's be friends again...finally, you get the picture of where our dreams land
Just make sure it's built on a rock instead of sand


Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2015


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A Little Problem

These midgit's live in a big castle.
Where getting around's a big hassle.
They looked for a way.
So that they could stay.
But the steps, too much of a passel*.

* Passel : large number or amount.

P. C. P. S. No offense intended with the use of the word midgit's. Peace. :)


Copyright © robert johnson | Year Posted 2014


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Combinations

I'm trying a brand new recipe



that is claimed to be delishful.



Fresh beans with hue of grue



with butter pat and bacon fat melded.



I served it to my family



 and waited for the praises



My tween son smarked,



"This grub you made



is truly vomitrocious".



"It's all you're getting for your brunch,



you better eat it up."



He snarled, "I'll wait for linner



and scraped it in the garbage.



He flundered off and I let him go.



I didn't want the hassle.



The other children squiggled a bit



but ate their food so they left too.







After  brunch, I opened my email.



Nothing but infomercials.



The small children were watching The Muppets



and my tween was on the internet.



I settled down to a sitcom and



the peace and quiet was fantabulous.







August 22,2014  For Potmanteaus contest







delishful  (delightful and delicious)



grue (green and blue)



melded (melted ad welded)



tween (teen and between)



smarked (smirk and remarked)



vomitrocious (vomit and atrocious)



brunch (breakfast and lunch)



linner (lunch and dinner)



flundered (flounder and blunder)



hassle (haggle and tussle)



squiggled (squirmed and wiggled)



infomercials (information and commercials)



Muppets (marionettes and puppets)



Internet (International and network)



sitcom (situation and comedy)



fantabulous (fantastic and fabulous)  My brother who was a radio personality 

swore that he coined the word fantabulous.


Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2014


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THE NEW FIRST MINITSER OF SCOTLAND - MY NAME IS NICOLA STURGEON

THE NEW FIRST MINISTER OF SCOTLAND...
MY NAME IS NICOLA STURGEON

 
My name is Nicola Sturgeon,
and I am a lady jock,
I was the only candidate – It
really was a shock!
No one else stood against
me – they knew I was the
one,
My PA staff kept them out –
until I had finally won!

I’m now in full charge – of
Scotland and our decisions,
We don’t need those
Westminster lot – and we’ll
knight all our patrons!
We want to say goodbye,
to Cameron and the elite,
Now we can play at; ‘being
in control’ – and finally take
our seat?

Yes, I had some challengers –
but they were kept at bay –
I didn’t want to fight for my
perks – I couldn’t feel dismay!
So I ordered my PA – to keep
them at arm’s length,
To dismantle any challengers –
and to really show their
strength!

I’ll eat a lot more haggis –
and talk a load of tripe,
But when the media come
invading – I’ll wallow in
the hype!
I eat my Scots porridge
oats – every morning and
with lots of milk,
Then I’ll say to Alex
Salmond: ‘What is under
your kilt?’

We will decide our own
future – that I know for
sure,
We should have gone for
independence – we really
know the score!
Yes, we love our expenses,
and accept large donations –
Just line our pockets full
of cash – as we proceed
with our negotiations!

We will pay our members –
the above inflation pay –
Because we intend earning
more – especially after May!
I’ve spoken to Cameron,
and Osborne and to Clegg,
But I would get more sense
out of – little baby Oleg! 

We really don’t care for
the Westminster
politicians –
All we want are more and
more – of your Westminster’
donations!
We have our own
Parliament – and we do sit
occasionally –
Just like the MPs in
westminster – we work part
time only!    

We are making savage cuts –
and to cut the welfare bill,
But if it does get too bad –
we can always take a pill!
I will abolish the bedroom
tax – for all the wealthy
people,
They can donate to me
instead – and sod the poor
and less able.

Yes, there is a lot of work
to do – our economy we
shall grow –
But if we need a top up –
the English will pay us
more!
No! I’m not biased! But I
need to balance the books –
Not be like the TESCO
bosses – and act like
“honest” crooks!     

There really isn’t any
difference with any
politician –
We all are so corrupted –
but so innocent at an
election!
We will also come
knocking - on your new
double glazed front door –
And hassle you for your
vote – it really is a bore!

My name is Nicola
Sturgeon, I am now in
charge of Scotland –
And all we’ll really do
now – is to take more
cash in hand!
We are the canny jocks –
and we now are so
independent –
But we’ll still scrounge
from the Westminster
elite – it is our Scottish
commandment!

So, I welcome you to
Scotland – were I am
now in charge, 
But, who is that man
who’s taking Scottish
seats; ‘why it’s Nigel
Farage!’
I will ask him why he’s
here – and if he wants
a beer?
Then I’ll flash my kilt,
and my rear - and he
may give me a cheer!

I welcome you all to
Scotland – please feel
free to roam,
But don’t forget to
leave a donation –
before you head off
home?
We now have a new
border control – to
keep the English out –
But there just might
be an exemption – if
you can show a lot of
clout?

Farewell from me as I
take my seat – and start
to line my pockets –
Oh, what a lovely life it
is – especially if you’re
Scottish!       
I must now go and eat
my lunch – my tasty
haggis stew,
All of it paid for – by the
likes of...oh, if you only
knew!!!! 

 

BY
DARRYL ASHTON


Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2015


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DARK CASTLE

It was not a dark and stormy night
The night was not sultry nor moist
The sky's color didn't please the knight.

The Knight was a gentleman since his youth.
That that Knight had had a thing for mares
of the night was not whatsoever an untruth.
But today, he is OK, managing his wares.

The firmament was red and raining.
It rained blood. 1920! I was eight.
The Knight was fond of chess playing.
When he saw a white knight
was missing he rushed to the stable. The horse ate
the knight!
Luckily, his rival, the Czech
had brought with himself a board.
Thus, it's impossible to be bored!
Nevertheless, the Knight punished the horse
for eating the knight. What a night!
And, although the Knight's voice was hoarse
as a crow he made sure the cheeky horse
would behave. "Now back to the stable!"
At this point, the Knight, didn't feel stable.

Now, let's go back to the chess match!
They did make sure the pieces match.
And the Czech, ludicrously, bust out a match
for his cigar. Now, not a missing piece!
Great! They can start the game in peace!

11 minutes later, the Czech mate
won. So, he said: "Checkmate!"
$100 prize! A cheque signed the Knight.
"This is a bogus cheque, mate!"
cried the Czech. What a horsey night!

They both heard
the horse neigh.
A lamb in the herd
heard the Czech say: "Nay!
This is a counterfeit cheque!
You can't do this to a Czech!
I had you in check
only once before checkmating you!
You won't pay? Gimme the ripe ewe!"

"I can't! The ewe is on the lam!"
"Then if no ewe, you get me a lamb!
Should you refuse, I shall touch the piano!"

Dark Castle. Knight and Czech keep arguing.
Stark hassle. Night can't check this lightning.

The mussel sleeps
and counts
ewes, lambs, sheep
and Counts.

The Count's mussel
can't count muscles.


Copyright © Ivo Cosentino | Year Posted 2014


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I could drown

In a boat
Rowing around the moat
Of my family’s latest castle

The one with towers and a flag with a tassel
And it really seems to me a lot of hassle
That the drawbridge is up and not down

The water’s very brown
I could drown

* based on Prince Magnus of Sweden, who nearly drowned during the construction of the castle drawbridge (another time, he allegedly leapt into the moat believing he saw a mermaid).

18th May, Jack Horne for Nette’s Trois par Huit a Bridge contest


Copyright © jack horne | Year Posted 2014