Best High Jinks Poems
a new riddle for the Sphinx
concerns terrorist high jinks
when our free-world countries blink
does bin Laden wink?
*For John Freeman’s Dodoitsu contest
Stop pulling your mischievous high jinks - currently, the wind of change stinks
Winds of change are not always good - they can be grossly misunderstood
Winds of change are just blowing smoke - spouted by a deluded bloke
Don’t believe a word from Blog bullies and blowhards - they won't change their ways
PS encourages creativity – poets CAN post ten per day
I got fed up of snide little digs about people who write poop poems
I am not stuck for turds - I'm saving my witty words for my next book
Oh let's do something crazy
Let's go moonbathing at night
and we can knock on doorbells
and then have a rainball fight
Or let's go on a rampage
of destruction of all fear
We'll wreak some anti-havoc
spreading harmony and cheer
People need to drop their worries
go outside and play
a good old game of hide and seek
and we can lead the way
It's time for some tomfoolery
and high jinks to abound
Too many people lose themselves
in troubles so profound
So let's try something crazy
Oh I know what we can do
We'll skip some pebbles 'cross a pond
and climb a tree or two
We'll take your heavy burdens
and just toss them in the air
and then we'll dash through flowery fields
without a single care
Life is getting very short
it's time for boisterous fun
And many will not understand
until their time is done
Tomfoolery and high jinks
are the order of the day
We'll throw in some shenanigans
while laughing all the way
2/26/19
Don is the ultimate user
His deals seal you as a loser
When Trump holds the cards
The lives now in shards
Bear witness he’s an abuser
The Don has a trick to reveal
He’ll dick you and cancel your deal
Like hands on your neck
Trump voids your paycheck
And feels ecstasy when you squeal
If acts are life’s indicator
Don’s a classic woman hater
Though cratered with flab
Trump will pussies grab
As rapist and a dictator
What will show how Don’s dick-brain thinks?
Trump’s thrusts come with lies and high jinks!
Amid this disgust
Some high and non-plussed
Have heads up his rump with what stinks!
I wondered if a poet could be jinxed
perhaps by switching her inks
perchance a drug to alter her thinks
or just denying her a full 40 winks...
I thought I'd find out last night
at or around midnight
But boy, could that lady fight
bit my hand ~ now I can't write
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
(She with face inscrutable as the Sphinx.)
Although she was nay forthright,
Shakespeare wast somewhat polite,
But saw through her nefarious high jinks!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Daisy danced the wild dance of jealousy
Her dancing was her revenge weaponry
She did the can-can
To excite her man
Whom she had caught enjoying revelry.
She had been queuing at the bar for drinks
When suddenly Daisy had an instinct
She turned and what shock
He was in lip-lock
And most certainly enjoying high jinks.
So she danced, for her man was a loser
Should have left the alien much sooner
Her Dear John letter
Said she'd done better
And found herself a huge hearted bruiser.
A squinting eye peers through a lens.
Far down the aisle, a tri-pod bends around bouquets,
to snap the file of wedding guests,
dressed sublime, in summer's finest
who now arrive to share the day
Her older brother, winks a smile, and in his eyes
a warm embrace. The moment comes and he will play
a trace of Bach, on his guitar
Her youngest sibling sings along, and thinks
of spars, high jinks, and pranks, her laughing face
that sparked their childhood bond
Her father ponders her first bike
mosquito bites, her freckles and a scabby knee
A fortress, high, among the trees
where a princess climbed, to castles, fair
where songbirds watched from cradled nests, above her braided hair
He'd turn the world from end to end
to spin her back to then again, .....but that was then....
...and this is now...he must now release her hand, somehow...
And through my tears, a child I bore, is dressed in white
She'll soon unite, ...her knight awaits
Their eyes are bright with confidence
For just this once, if time could grant a moment's grace
to freeze this moment, time and place...
He waits for her. She lights a smile......
Her satin slippers walk the aisle
He lifts a veil and they are more
than who they were before
~
____________________________________________________
Inspired by Craig's Contest:" A Collage Held Dear" 10/2/13
She’s not averse to forty winks
But afterwards she wakes and blinks
And to her privy corner slinks
As enigmatic as the Sphinx
She sits atop her tray and thinks
Up some mischievous new high jinks
The sound of Mum preparing drinks
Dad washing dishes in the sinks
“So tired of waiting” wail the Kinks
This rings a bell with hungry Minx
Who from her empty food bowl shrinks
As ice in Bombay Sapphires clinks
It’s not the time for forty winks
Young mice frolicking in the pinks
Beware the coming of the Minx!
There once was a man, a New Yorker
Who was truly a cocky corker
He loved best his wife, and fixing bath pipes
With Bronx accent, a hearty talker
Fifty years he’d labored and toiled
Keeping pipes un-rusted and oiled
When no water drained, the women complained,
“Come fix it! ‘Cause the floor is now soiled!"
With light in hand he crawled under sinks
Slithered and slid among all those chinks
He worked for the money for his honey
No more teasing or joking high-jinks
Water flowed; it’s time to retire
Move South where old people perspire
Riding on 'trikes with high flying flags
With large baskets for folks to admire
He never thought he'd have such sore bones
"Tho he's always been accident prone
Pedaling by his now startled wife
He's riding through three time zones!
YOGA 2019
A passionate follower of the mental and
physical discipline Yoga,
For the past 7 years, enjoy pose of cobra,
Whilst still jittery about Aerial lessons, and
Still a little scared.
Was in my fifties, when my friends in fact dared,
Me to start lessons, you ask what is my age
Do you honestly believe us women, but a sage
Decision I made, feel fitter than ever before,
Recommended by doctor, really shocked her,
When I showed her photos 5 years later!
Do pyramid poses, warrior poses and Bakasana,
so swell
Yoga has helped me to de-stress my life
so well!
Salutations to the sun is an exercise to lengthen
And certainly our muscles to strengthen!
The only problem I have, is that in meditation,
I get the giggles, cannot pay strict attention,
Jennifer, you are disrupting the yoga class,
Feel like a 1st grader, definitely not
Going to pass ,
So try to concentrate until my friend winks
Back at school, always in trouble, high jinks
Sit cross legged easy pose, and uhmmmmmmmm
Like the others,
But think of dinner, oh wow, prawns yum,
I have a dreamy look on my face, my yoga
Teacher has given up, I’m wearing tights, pink polka
Dots, shakes her head – really - but has accepted,
My different approach to life, which has infected
My yoga class, we have such fun,
But still get our yoga lesson done!
As the beams in departure
darkness, they crawl slowly
taking charge and ready to rule
that surrounded shell above all
slouching in their aging gray
fresh again after sloughing its light
as plants in shift of their breath
and creatures, they creep in gloominess
in veil, another reality begins
As shadows of loneliness dwells
face of fear they show up
In eyes the lazy bell rings
most fading, lost in dreams
The innocent souls, all lay in rest
and troubles laid beneath blankets
silence kissing gently over ears
when saga of half-life
once again opening its doors
the back of dark awakes in vigor
and legs of selfishness in motion
together in hands of rebellious pleasure
a cyclone stirs up inside them
revolving around in claws of injustice
all searching out in desperation
in numerous, they swarm around
carrying a glaring visage in glee
a pernicious tar overruns them
and eyes getting blinded by a smoky visor
evils break through in boisterous force
shillings and dimes they roll
drenched in aphrodisiac, submerged in high jinks
indulged in satire, heads go haywire
imbibed in flood and drowned in insanity
manhood lost in that reign of terror
and humanity slaughtered along roadside
when homeless becoming preys
to their heinous hedonism
the smell of kill engulfs the gloom
along with sound of horror playing its notes
blood they shatter portrait of death
virtues washed away in alcoholic virulence
victims in dismay, they float
to those opened cavity laying generously
the song of drunkards in background
following the screaming souls to graveyard
and we again in defenseless sleeps
awaiting that forenoon, unaware of those perils
but this tyrannical existence expanding
the shadow of once again apocalypse.
and when
bird, black skin
waves hi and grins
and then does it again?
penguin
----------
eye blinks
my instinct
detects distinct
baby sphincter high jinks
end stinks
----------
fruit tree
sin's entry
serpent sentry
promised wisdom plenty ~
empty
----------
sheepish
not finish
and diminish
wooly be bahd punished
by ewe?
spring high jinx
lusty sunbeams jive
rowdy clouds do fandangos ~
gusty winds kiss kites
ducklings surf the pond
fuzzy goslings in high jinx ~
willow trees hula dance
spring stars waltz the sky
wink at comets streaking by ~
corn planting moon sighs
rowdy zephyrs whoosh
corralling spindrift laces ~
crazy clouds spiral
shifting clouds speak riddles
guess the shape of changing clouds ~
new green shoots tickled
whirlwind pranks tumble
hijack dandelion puffs ~
moonbeams tease midnight
5-26-22
Dear Tapan....
I find myself hoping that you'll stay a friend
In whatever venue you happen to end
Though demons get high marks in your repertoire
The one who serves God Sir is really the star
The thrill of Saint's insight to me is a blast
And high jinks of demons a boring repast
Success is not virtue but reward of Grace
The goal of my life is a smile on God's face.
For tearing down things is a walk in the park,
The coddling of evil a big question mark
To understand God is the Saint's only 'biz, '
Rejecting man's pride to give praise to what IS!
Brian Johnston
August 9,2014
Poet's Notes:
A poetic response to a letter from Dr. Tapan Kumar Pradham on Poemhunter.com. See original unexerpted letters on Poemhunter's web site at PH: Writing Poetry: Open Letter #B. This exerpt of Tapan's letter is reprinted with permission.