Best Henny Poems
Humpty Dumpty always sat on that wall
Except for the one time he had a great fall
So always but once that anyone can recall
Which is why today is a big deal after all
Since Little Bo Peep had lost her sheep
She wanted to ask Humpty to take a peek
If he could see where she should seek
She could round them up within the week
He wasn't on the wall, she rang Missing Alert
It sent shockwaves far and wide and overt
The Three Blind Mice scampered in the dirt
Three Little Pigs squealed like they were hurt
Next thing you know, Little Miss Muffet,
Told Tom Thumb to find Humpty or 'ef it'!
Three Little Kittens told Jack Spratt to "Stuff it!"
Itty Bitty Spider crawled the wall and jumped it
The Old Lady Who Lived In the Shoe
Panicked about what to do
Earlier she and Humpty had a rendezvous
He fell asleep and now had no clue
Most all those in Mother Goose Town
Heard Humpty was missing, wasn't around
Everyone was afraid he fell down
All were searching, wanting him found
Jack In the Beanstalk knew of the tryst
He told the Old Lady they would fix this
They covered up Humpty, he didn't resist
Henny Penny yelled, "Sky falling!" and insists
Hey Diddle Diddle got the cow to jump
And dropped Humpty on the wall on his rump
Starlight First Star said he looked like a lump
Even The Owl And Pussycat were stumped
I'm still running from the spell God cast now
Why can't I be free from all this evil?
Poison swell up my optic, medieval
Elixirs mend emotions for a stay
A night high is better than a nightmare
The truth is I'm afraid to be holy
Loneliness destroys a good time for sure
Avoiding faces and crying rivers
Death always on time, Henny on liver
I'm still running from lovers pain; we pour
Immeasurable amount of gospel
Rain down on thy soul of a king today
Please save him from his mistakes tomorrow
Fleeing darkness will have your wings on fire
On Wells Street in Chicago, is a sweet comedic treat.
Second City Theater for laughs and where many found their beginnings on plain stage, their life's heartbeat.
No "Phantom of the Opera" no lines, no costumes, no staging.
All actors had to do was improvise.No heavy make-up, yet one in an
instant learn how to disguise.
As in jazz, whether Brubeck or Davis, we all played off one another.
No fixed lines like Henny or famous the Smothers Brothers.
I never understood this magic of improvisation,
But once I learned it, what a phenomenal source of excitation.
This was a true gift how to act in the now.
It has served me in relationships, as I can't be a fake no how!
The censor that dances in your head keeps you from being free,
as if your head is stuck in a tree.
Most get stuck inside their heads, improvisation sets you free.
~Biography~
Poetess is Graduate of the famed Second City.
Was on stage for their Childrens Theater Troupe every Saturday for two years.
After that, moved on to be a stand up comedienne.I was trained by Tom Dreesen and Tim Reid("WKRP in Cincinnati."
I worked clubs in Chicago. Later in San Francisco, at Holy City Zoo. **Women comedians in the 1970's were not to be gross as they are now.
Tim and Tom were the only black and white comedy act ever. No grossness was ever displayed...best experience of my life!
Dedicated to Tom Dreesen and Tim Reid. Tom went on to be the opening act for Frank Sinatra and helped in the HBO movie on Frank. Also, launched The Comedy Store in Los Angeles. Both humble men....and friends,
Let me not nonsense, pen!
One-liners, jokes, do I dread.
The carnival of forms, far too
many.
Some not poetry, at all.
About as good as "Henny-Penny!"
.
Sounding like echoing laughter in
an empty hall.
The murder of our beautiful English
language, banal and cold as an empty,
plastic mall.
.
Or overdone with oh so, impressive
words from our great Thesaurus.
Better to read famous poetry, with your
red cat, Morris!
.
Truth, soul, God, do they really matter?
Sadly, not really~ if on the floor, truth
is shredded, lying in dirt, in tatters!
.
When a human life ends and you refuse to
shed a tear.
You no longer are a poet, just about as
human as an empty can of beer!
2/25/2021
~1~
I'm feeling alive
On top of my game
Can you feel me
Get you a cup
And fill it up
With some ice and Henny
Is there anybody alive
That's ready to ride
Really?
I don't know fo show
Most of these dudes is hoe's
I know
And most of my poetry
Turns into flows
With blows to your souls
I'll keep you on your toes
If you just listen
Chill with all the assumptions
And quite *****in'
For the hidden messages
That are written
Ya'll keep missin'
I'll keep that head spinnin'
If you'll just pay attention
Thru the intense spittin'
You'll see sign's between these lines
And expose my intentions
Inspiring lyricist to many,
His rhymes are extremely varied,
at first I thought he was crazy, but in his stories I saw me,
trying to escape, always trying to make things right a little too late,
but remind yourself to never listen to the hate.
When you feel it, it' almost hard to believe it, you're probably destined for nothing less than great.
Then the pressure adds,you feel no other emotion besides to get mad,get loud,
I'm simply losing my cool, called a fool for losing my sense of humor because i decided to like school.
Just like him, I did it for me, I wanted to get clean, my addiction was any drink containing some henny.
I no longer wanted to limit my abilities.
Life though seems longer,slower, and rougher but now I can remember life itself.
Now I see me.
There is beauty filled with insecurities, welcoming warmth,but a predators attack towards anyone who want to question me.
Painful past, fake ass home, it's like I was taught to put on some kind of show, but i refuse to take part in that anymore.
Just like him I'm discovering my roots, who I am along with all the truth.
Though Nervous...
Yours truly, quite dissimilar
to a woodlark,
nonetheless, this human
i(r)onically positively charged
to forge covalent bond,
hence this stranger
axon impulse to generate,
modulate, and spark...
assimilate virtual digital connection
with mine quark
key aura, charisma,
and karma acquired,
sans "FAKE" trumpeting
assertion tubby Ozark
Mountain Daredevil, I feign
boasting as true mark
Putin on Ritz storyteller wannabe,
incorporated with hallmark
card writer, and thus
feeble attempt to embark
upon eurythmic quest
to facilitate online journey,
wherever the whim
of reciprocity, spontaneity,
and transparency doth
deem reasonable benchmark.
Blatant camaraderie desire
explains rhyme and reason,
(and collusion) if such tactic appealed
within scrunched, highbrowed, and furrowed
forehead this whim congealed,
eyebrows raised with elan to field
said poetic laced metrical pursuit
(grammatically well healed)
unsure what outcome,
(perhaps duff feeted endeavor)
might be revealed!
At deux score away from
attaining Sant Henny yawl
whirl wide aging cobwebs
glom rusty cogs and wheels
of me noggin pine to flip
(the hands of time)
growing old steals
often playing back gauzy past,
where silently musty
Old Virginny hoary memory reels
squeakily turn, yet revisiting,
painful remembrance of things past
only reminds me how this Scottish Matt
got stepped on by many heels.
Numerous unpleasant vivid bro
kin recollections of doomed,
foregone smitten loves flit to and fro
many awkward boyhood infatuations never
broached to secret paramour,
asper this common Joe
forever embossed pretty thang,
penniless and dolorous 1959 minted
baby boomer lass ne'er did know,
probably snickered (out of mine earshot),
a painfully shy lad, who stood
(rather small) apart from status quo
sported nerdy skinny as toothpick physique
encompassing scared kid accumulating woe.
Even at this instant forlorn romantic
notions finds this papa craze
zilly wished courage existed to
whisper "hello" during prepubescent days
for one gull in particular engendered
unstoppable fervent gaze
especially within cat's whisker
visiting her hypnotic gaze
leaving suppressed, locked, and bottled
languishing testosterone
squelched in confusing maze.
Trevor Jed Engelson Unwittingly...
launched Meghan Markle into royalty
American divorcee
catapulted from “AA” to “Zed”
at break neck speed, and with cachet wed
Prince Harry, and soon
twill begetting, bestowing,
and bewitching her
chromo somal thread
(complementing, furthering, and
weaving together "Quod Erat
Demonstrandum", or QED
for short) within United Kingdom
coat of arms, perhaps
naming the first heir Ned,
and according one online
dictionary definition and ken
translates as French
(Old English) name Eadmund,
meaning rich or happy,
and protective akin
to a mother hen,
not just mollycoddling
hatchlings, but even
shelling out care
on a wing and a prayer
long after offspring
fly the coop and been
fending for themselves,
perhaps merely earning
chicken scratch wage,
assigning doomed fate,
sans cooked usage
if perchance "chick(s)"
go thru a foul stage
within their duff
fenceless hierarchy,
where pecking order doth rage
worse case scenario, would presage
finding errant peep(s)
sent to gaol,
not much bigger than a bird cage,
unless they comprise
noble henny age,
ideally taken in as a pet
by newly bridled
Duchess of Sussex
treated like totally
tubularly true blue blood
with opulent accommodations
(cheaply) tricked out
with life size Tyrannosaurus Rex
(spoiler alert: actually done
with special effe Hex
with latest computer graphics
showing rippling reptiles flex
sing and holo
graphic smoky mirrors)
intending "FAKE"
balances and checks
to boondoggle aggressive paparazzi,
one of whom includes
Meghan Markle's ex.
henny penny and
henrietta too, love to
eat eggs shells all day
virginia does not
care 'cause she's not laying yet
but Butch is the best
she's setting a good
example by trying to eat
right, greens things and bugs
Pardon me waiter
But there's a fly in my soup
Doing the backstroke
I from that Saner, Kiest and SOC.
Where relations is deadly shots.
And your base is basic spots.
And you racially gone get marked.
I have to blast through game.
For something to change.
This life is insane.
Roll an ounce of fire sticky.
Fifth of henny.
Take it straight to the brain.
I'm down with riders that stay riding from N.Y. to L.A.
And if you busters have a promblem let you talk to the gauge.
Flip the script like acrobatics.
Tradegic stories are made.
So how you livin.
Feel me hittin.
Particular women are played.
Like poker the odds are the same.
The focus is getting your change.
I'm simple so leave all the fame.
And ride.
Grab your heater this game is live or die.
Make you breathe like F.A.B.O the left is always right.
Ain't no surprise.
This 64 spinning adrenoline, running on E.
I'm saving nothing, living lavish always reping O.C.
For savage haters, earse'em, encase'em in dirt and no peace, no sleep, 6 feet, i am
beast.
Monarchy Martyr!!!
Hardest of bargaineers, and pioneers,
Chat feedback on how we don't care,
Lend me an ear, fear no savage,
These fake dramatical cats wearin their lives backwards,
Shhhh, crack a backwoods.
Tis' funny, the world just caving in,
The worst from within,
Manifest and sparks my quest,
I'm here to build a nation,
Map it out and destroy temptation,
Then renovate thought,
Sip on right now high stakin,
While some crooked eye cop
Playin the corner sooo hot,
You can smell the bacon,
Steady moves we're makin,
School principles for rapist,
Murdered by math teacher,
Dating my 8th grade friend
For free lunch and straight A papers,
Something for nothing, better be the bravest,
Blue jean, black tie, sharp eyed badged gunmen,
Colombine freak minds on my block,
41 shots and free Amadou me,
Forget the runnin!
My heart goes out to those who struggle,
Millenium men with power beyond muscle,
Feel my fury!
These corporate world threats,
Most late bloomies, came to do me in rudely
Yall should ride with me,
See why men die and strive for free,
Like a black man i'm proud to be raised in these means streets,
Like a Rob Dinero in heat
We chastize the wise for knowledge intelligently,
Sooo, captivated i hate it,
We're only half free, a different type man,
Sober off henny , drunk off reality,
Casually conquer catastrophy,
My main goals to grow old past chapter three,
Their after me !
Monarchy Martyr.
I display my heart on this paper to find closure...
This game of love we play only to cry later...
Whatever, I guess I'm still a little emotional...
Talking to myself like, JP you got to let it go...
They say real men don't cry so I hide behind my ego...
You said I hurt you, how much I guess I'll never know...
So I picked up my pen to write down my sin for my eyes to see...
From what I see, I understand if you don't ever forgive me...
But truth is, you hurt me too, I just know how to hide the pain...
Damn my head's spinning, the Henny is strong...
But I must admit my queen, we both did wrong...
So before you condemn me, give me a chance to make amends...
Therefore, find it in your heart to not turn your back on me...
Trust me, I feel your pain I know it will not be easy...
So I will give you time until you find the strength you need...
In the mean time I'll hold on to these memories to heal me slowly...
P.S
Writing takes me away
I want you to meet a girl named Jenny
after the looks materialistic's and that pretty penny
every drug around she took she would look if not any
only if she look like she looked after a few shots of henny
oh dear Jenny
she tried so many
the men came uh plenty
condoms on cocked and ready
but she wasnt ready
taken to a hotel room by the levy
**** gets heavy
pimped out the passenger seat of a Chevy
Jenny was shaking the pimp said keep steady
and that you know what to do just act like Betty
she hopped out the car 10 minutes than back in like all ready
she started to break bread but the pimp slapped her already
Jenny never knew life could be so unsteady
that night she dreamt about her home her bed and her stuffed teddy
Jenny wasnt ready. - TA 04/2018
They don’t make ‘em like Henny Youngman no more
Borsht-belt comedians, vaudevillians before
Delivered punch lines one after another and another
Rat-a-tat-tat-touille ~ their tongues just like rubber