Best Hon Poems
She jiggled like pink jello into the store
with platinum blonde hair and red rouge on her face
the shoe clerk mumbled it must be 1950's day
watching her strut around with a hanky made out of lace
She said hi hon you know why I'm here
he replied let me guess, you wear a size eight
she said well if the shoe fits I might as well wear it
and maybe later if you get lucky you can be my date
So she scouted around and found a pair
and sat down with tight dress flair
he thought to himself I think I'm in love with Mae West
looking her up and down and at her chest
He gently took her foot and slid her old high heel off
his hand sliding up and starting to cruise
she batted her eyelashes and said oh keep it coming, she toyed
saying, why don't you come up and see me later big boy
With that he winked and slid the new heels on
watching her walk around like Mae West
she said you know I know you like me big boy
but my eyes are up here and not on my chest
With that he gave her a long wolf whistle
and said you know I just can't resist
now stop acting your shoe size sexy
pulling her towards him giving her a passionate kiss
She whispered hon is that your gun
or are you just happy to see me
he said guess what my little chickadee
tonight you can be my Bacall and I'll be your Bogie
With that she left the store with customers galore
staring, whispering and looking aghast
he said out loud, come on... get a life...
I know we're a little kooky, but she happens to be my wife!
2-7-18
Hunting for treasure poems;
Midst summer morn~
I am adrift in the wilderness.
All of a sudden~
a European euphony soars
like a midnight sonata
in pianissimo and decrescendo.
I run to chase the symphony~
and to my delight,
a lilac light leads
a perfumed path
to a wondrous woodland.
And there I find
a precious poem~
written in the purple petal
of a wildflower.
12 July 2020
Hon. Mention
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (8)any theme any form
Contest Judged: 7/12/2020 9:20:00 AM
How many sands have you counted
building castles near the shoreline
which the sea washes away
before the day is done?
Alas, you build them
again and again
unmindful of the winds
raging around you:
The waves roaring over the sands
blasting away your dream castles
Before your hands could shape
the towers in your mind;
as if there were no winds
and rushing waves that blast
your hopes away, poor man.
BRIAN'S SELECT 4,any form,any theme
Contest Judged: 6/5/2020 12:19:00 AM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Hon. Mention
You’re in Palm Springs, not much to do
But golf and get some sun
Hop on a cart, still almost dark
Get out and have some fun
Line up your shot, you’re feeling hot
You try hard not to push
But half the time, like you were blind
It ends up in the bush
You curse and swear like no one’s there
Dig up a chunk of dirt
You hit a house, feel like a louse
Thank God no one was hurt
You hack around, rip up the ground
The hole seems ’way too small
You miss your shot and swear a lot
This is no fun at all
Every shot’s worse than the last
No matter how you try
They don’t go where you want them
It makes you wanna cry
Your buddies laugh, you stand and chaff
You ask them what’s so funny
They grin and say, “Looks like today
You owe us lots of money”
Finally when you make a shot
You think you’re getting hotter
You rip the next shot long and hard
Straight into the water
Every shot makes someone smile
Somehow it’s never you
A foursome comes up from behind
Asks if they could play through
You shank and pull you slash and slice
You finally get around
The only part that you enjoy
Is when you’re homeward bound
You practice ‘til the sun goes down
Determined not to fail
The more you try the worse it gets
You just groove your slash and flail
Today I had a real good day
I’m happy as could be
Had lots of fun, me and my Hon
Stayed home and watched TV
For Andrea’s contest
Show me the Funny (part two)
Eskimo Nell & the Door Repair Man
Now Eskimo Nell
Has a story to tell
A tale, about my last visit
Into her igloo
I went through and through
Though this entrance I’m told is illicit
She said, “Just for you
That one will do
Coz the wind, it chills to the core
Me back gets stone froze
When whoever, God knows
Is hammering, at the front door”
I told her, “Thank you”
And with no more ado
I slammed that back door with some might
I was grateful to seize
Some relief from the freeze
And discover it fitted so tight
She said she was pleased
That it had come un-seized
For some of her clients she thought
Preferred the back door
Where nobody saw
They were doing what they hadn’t ought
“I’d keep it well oiled
Coz you don’t want it spoiled
As it sure gets a great deal of use
So if it gets dry
You’ll find standing by
This bottle of lubricant juice”
Then the bolt was so stiff
Which was nothing diff
So plenty of juice I applied
Coz I’d known from before
It could give you a sore
If the bolt did not easily slide
Now the bolt it was cold
Like an ice cube to hold
And to warm up it needed some friction
It, I moved back and forth
For all I was worth
And it helped being in such constriction
She asked “Are you done”
I said, “No, not yet hon”
So I picked up the pace, worked like hell
Soon achieved my aim
She said, “Glad that you came
You’re great service to Eskimo Nell”.
In the inner city there is a little girl.
Who dreams about a different world.
There is no fresh air for her to breathe.
No lovely flowers for her to see.
No yard to go and play and swing.
No, not much of anything.
Her mother toils to and from.
Providing on a measly income.
She sees her mother in despair.
She hugs her close, because she cares.
"Don't worry mom we will get by."
Her mom says, "Yes hon." with teary eyes.
"There are so many little girls and boys
that struggle in this world you see."
"I wonder why fortunes smile on some
and lets the rest go free."
Michael Tor 3/22/2016 Written about Lolo Jones. A champion athlete.
Last line credit to Eagles Song Sad Cafe.
"Why do you love me, Dear?" she cooed.
"You're cuddly, cute, and sweet," he said.
"Your mama's cat is too," she cried
and made some distance in the bed.
"Just teasing, Hon! I wasn't through,"
he reasoned with his peeved young wife.
"I'd be a wretched, lonely man
without you to complete my life."
"Now, why do you love me?" he asked.
Her answer: "You're so good and kind
and very easy on the eyes.
A man like you is quite a find."
He smiled. "Such precious words, my love,
but you've described our pastor too
and other men we both could name.
Why was it I you chose to woo?"
"Your point is gently made," she said.
"My HEART chose you, and yours chose me."
Mere words will never be enough
to tell what eyes of love can see.
Date: January 29, 2018
Contest Title: Eloquent Banter: You Tease me So Nicely Placed 1st
Sponsor: Edward McCall
January 7, 2019, entered in Mark Toney's 2019 Poetry Marathon,
mile 10 placed 7th of 10
September 10, 2020
entered in the Strand Completely Your Choice (7) Poetry Contest
John Wulf, with his funny Limerick antics telling funny hilarious stories,
“viagraology
There once was a medical study
of things flapping flaccid like putty
those men given placebo
couldn’t enter gazebo
it drove the poor fellas plumb nutty
Copyright © 2015John Wulf”
but also has his very soft spot for all of us
Then there is my very favorite lady, Jan Allison, with all her humorous poems,
ANOTHER VIAGRA POEM HAS JUST POPPED UP - INSPIRED BY EVE ROPER AND JACK ELLISON
It hung so limply like Niagara
Doc told him to take some Viagra
Just one little blue pill
Gave his wife such a thrill
It sticks up so high it could stab ya
Copyright © 2015JAN ALLISON 18th July 2015
but lover her with all our hearts she is the sweeties of them all
Jack Ellison, teasing back and forth with his witty poems,
so who’s the greatest of them all,
OD'd On Viagra
Hickory, Dickory, Dock
Overdosed on Viagra, whatta shock
My wee fellow looked up
Said, “You ain't no pup!”
I cried, “This guy don't go by no clock”
Copyright © Jack Ellison 2015
But a jolly soul because his Santa Jack this year.
Then there’s our Mystic Rose that joins the group with her sense of humor;
A Little Viagra Goes A Long Way
Incline thy ear o-friend of mine
Me poor husband got it bad
He got a dicky that won't pine
Tis sad Tis sad Tis really sad
I heard yours takes Viagra pills
Malone's will not erect nor stay
and yesterday he got the shills
Just letting dicky out to play!
Would you be so kind to send
The medicine that made him sleep
I'll give my hon a pop to rend
His dicky joy, so he can weep
Few tears of joy alongside mine
Oh how my smile would shine
He got a dicky that won't pine
And that's a real bad sign...
Copyright ©Mystic Rose 7/19/2015
so much fun we have here on Poetry Soup
11/13/2015
Poetry Contest : Who Are those funny Poets
Sponsored by: Judy Konos
My heart is torn to pieces. Really, it's on
life support. So bad that it's aching and this
pain is getting worse.
How could you be so cold? You were once by my
side. How could you give up on us? Can you see
the tears I cry?
I guess now it doesn't matter. I guess it was
all a lie. I guess your word was not a bond.
Your word wasn't good as mine.
Maybe I can hold my head up. Maybe I shouldn't
take it that hard. Maybe this is a blessing in
disguise...I found out the person you truly are.
I was ready to give you the world, then here he
comes along. You fell for the words he told you.
You were mine, but now you're gone.
I could pretend with wishful thinking hoping you'll
come to your sense. But if you did how will I know
you'll only break my heart again?
I'll be alright, but as for now I don't want to face
the world. I can't put it in my mind that you are no
longer my girl.
One last hug
One last kiss
One last look upon your face.
Goodbye love
Goodbye hon
He has now taken my place.
Oxymorons are cynical and fun.
Be careful though if you want to use one.
If it is familiar, it may sound quite trite.
Which murders your poem with a harsh bite.
Deafening silence is way overdone.
Boisterously shy is a good one though, hon
Brilliant idiot may be available in a tweet.
But avoid cliques like bittersweet.
Yes, you're one sexy witch, dear love, but now it's Halloween,
And I've a witchy tale to share, so keep your broom between ...
Five decades hence I knew the thrills of flesh, and did imbibe,
Yet there's but one that's apt to still pop up, let me describe:
It starts with just a tickled tip that twitches toward my toes,
As oft' can be a grandeur glitch, until what's grander, grows.
In dermal terms, my skin can squirm to feel infirmed and wet,
What fairer sexes call 'the glow', (we lesser-fair's call 'sweat').
Now when that glow has burst, I'm first immersed in finding you,
For you've the spunky junk to free the monkey from his zoo.
I'm damned if I can speak, my cheeks just bubble up with suds,
The things that hang or dangle, cursed to tangle with my duds.
I'm apt to find my fingers filled with zippers, buttons, snaps ...
And spouting things like "I love you", to fill the awkward gaps.
Those tickles turn to tingles and they mingle through an urge,
That brings our things together 'midst a single clinging merge.
Its fever gives new meaning to the old phrase come-and-gone,
And your sexy pose, (and fewer clothes), will always bring it on.
Now please don't fear, my vixen dear, when tickling has begun,
No stopping what is popping up, there's lots of hopping fun ...
The barrel of my kitschy gun has schemes it needs to hatch,
And when my love-lust itches, hon, it's you I aim to scratch!
Written and submitted on October 21, 2019
For the "Itch, Witch, Glitch, Or Twitch" Poetry Contest
Nina Parmenter, Sponsor.
It's a melodrama. Try to picture the drama queen
A bit actress lying on the floor in her final scene
Her lips trembling, tears running down her face
ruining her makeup in a gown of satin and lace
You won't win any Oscars, Honey. Not this time
Take lessons, hon. You can't act worth a dime
She's quick to blame everyone, but not herself
She claims innocence, but she's an imp, an elf
She's been insulted, but that's a falsified claim
Seriously, is she for real, or is warring her game?
No one has called her cruel names, not one of us
She's just a sad soul to have created such a fuss
Some poets are thin-skinned and misunderstand
that comments made are not given as a reprimand
But lo and behold... she sure came out swinging
like a bat out of hell with her accusations slinging
So lady poet, try and get a good grip on your life
No one is out to get you or cause you bitter strife
No one has rattled your cage or crushed your soul
and no one is bullying you with the acts of a troll
Your mean-spirited diatribes should reach an end
Maybe then you'll feel better; able to comprehend
You keep blowing a whistle without a good reason
and you've made yourself a victim of poetic treason
I'm wondering why you think your views are fine
and I should not be allowed to give voice to mine.
I didn't call you ugly names, neither of us did that
so stop clawing at us like some hissy spitting cat
It haunts you like shadows inside your imagination
So let it go and stop the outlandish discrimination
Don't you see that the delusions inside your head
are figments in your mind; things that you dread?
Having another crisis,
and feeling overwhelmed,
Kim stared at the bottle,
with all the pills,
feeling depressed and dismayed,
she felt she couldn't live another day…
Reaching for the bottle,
screwing off the lid,
she held her palm out
to catch a bunch of pills,
Sitting with them in her hand
on the couch, she thought,
"this is it," and was about
to put them in her mouth,
when all of sudden,
her door bell rang,
and putting the pills aside,
she temporarily postponed
her suicide...
Opening up her door,
stood an Avon lady,
saying to Kim,
"Hi hon, can I come in?"
Kim said "I guess so," with a weak grin,
Their conversation quickly turned
from make-up to Jesus,
Kim explaining to her,
that her life was such a mess,
the avon lady said she also
did Bible studies too,
and before she left
she gave Kim a new Bible,
her cell number,
and a scripture or 2,
Kim looked up the scriptures
and then she read
Jeremiah 1:5,
saying that God knew her
before she was formed
in the womb,
and then Matthew 11:28,
saying that if you pray to God,
that He will give you rest…
after reading those 2 scriptures,
she felt more at peace,
thinking maybe this was all just a test...
thanking God for that Avon ladies advice,
and for making her think twice
about taking her life.
Hebrews 13:2
This poem is dedicated to anyone who is thinking of suicide
and my older sister Patti who lost her son Joey 16 years ago to
suicide.
My mind a project of hesitation;
draw an oval maze of meditation.
Enter penciled lines, make them squiggly,
then paint it yellow for Mr. Wigley.
Squeeze a few lemons for it’s sometimes sour,
then let it dry for half an hour.
Stick here and there some golden stars,
before you inscribe my memoirs.
Use a hole punch or glue on swiss cheese;
for between my ears, sometimes a breeze.
Last, but not least, cover with cotton;
for the time it's fuzzy and things forgotten.
Then tear it all up, this art you’ve designed,
because suddenly Hon, I’ve changed my mind.
Written: 2/25/18
Contest: Mind the Wet Paint
Host: Viv Wigley
Twisted mister missed a tone
known to show a coloring poem
Tongue tied & bright eYes wide
Founded now the Seven inside
...and they smiled.
Spin a song come come along
Petascale and Ping a pong U&I
ding a dong and king a kong.a
beta scale still a while aWay.eh?
SO so blue said the Watering shoe
True true true said the skylark too
and the b.in.B.ees are funny! Along
the Road came the Runners bunny
...hey honey! You left your BlueGenes
on. The greenBeans too. Dear.Q.
Sun.On.Constellation systems fun!
Come.On.Hon. let your senses vent
the lens it sends us on our way!
OPhi.ades! Know.Pleiades is just
too slow. Grow a big toe & use all
the digits.dig.it.??? T.flops but
ohOZ.One.Is SO much more fun!
... said the can.Did.Smile.On.
~Know. I'm just Me. No Sly on hear.