Best Honked Poems
The Haunted House
An aging Victorian graphite three story house sat on a
promontory, lonely, deserted, weathered and forlorn.
Broken windows showed signs of cruel abuse from
passersby amused by throwing rocks we surmised.
This skeletal shell of a one-time elegant beauty
became a welcome refuge for my sister and I, wet
and chilled to the bone on that stormy autumn night.
Our car had broken down about two miles away.
There were no other homes or buildings nearby.
To our amazement the door was open and after
knocking loudly with no answer, we let ourselves in.
Cobwebs clung to our faces and hair as we entered
and brushed them away squeeling disdainfully.
I had a small torch on my keychain and with it we looked
around to try to find something to dry ourselves off.
We moved in unison across the creaking floor, shivering.
It was then that I felt cold fingers grasp my shoulder.
Wide eyed I slowly turned my head but no one was there.
We both heard errie laughter as chills ran down our spines.
We ran to the door but now it was locked and we were
trapped inside as panic set in with our hearts pounding.
Then all of a sudden two creatures appeared before us
standing there with matted hair and we both screamed
so loudly we scared each other, but with my little light I
could see we were looking at ourselves in a full length
dusty antique mirror. We laughed hysterically in pure relief.
I tried my cell phone again and miraculously got a signal.
I managed to contact the auto club who estimated 2 hours.
We waited impatiently until the auto club came to rescue
us and our car. The driver sat outside and honked his horn.
We screamed to him that we were trapped inside. He came
up to the front door and to our shock the door flew open.
We hurridly left that haunted house and never looked back
as the driver quickly drove away in the pouring rain.
8-27-18
Sponsor- Dear Heart
Contest- The Haunted House
Categories:
honked, autumn, fear, horror, house,
Form:
Narrative
Life was so carefree for me as a child, way back when
I was just a little girl who loved to dream and pretend
that I would grow up to be a doctor's nurse and mend
those who were hurt and sick. Their needs I would tend.
Way back then when I was ten, my world was small.
Dad was the man in my life. In my eyes he stood tall.
Working on our farm didn't seem like work at all
and when dinner was ready, we'd hear Mom's call.
My siblings and I had pets, but Bandi was my favorite one.
He'd wag his tail and run with me when my work was done.
He was a hunter and cocked his ears when Dad got the gun.
Way back then when I was ten, my life was filled with fun.
We didn't have a car, but on a farm we needed a truck.
When I honked the horn it made the silly chickens cluck.
It came in handy hauling our vegetables to earn a buck.
We sat in the flatbed when Dad said, "Corn to shuck."
I was a bit of a tom boy, never wanted to play with a doll.
My sister asked Santa for Barbie; my brother- a basketball.
All I wanted was a horse, but Mom was afraid I'd take a fall.
I heard a whinny in the morn; the tom boy began to bawl.
What few worries I had at ten, when life was so simplistic.
Too old to need a babysitter; too young to think of lipstick.
I chased lightning bugs at night, taught Bandi his new trick.
Those small parts of growing up are good memories that stick.
:.............................................................................:
January 24th, 2016 Way Back When I Was Ten Contest
Sponsored by Kelly Deschler
Categories:
honked, child,
Form:
Rhyme
I accidentally let one loose
A ripe for roasting, fattened goose!
The ganders in Orwellian mode
Honked out the news in gaggled code.
Rash Farmer Giles, blood red with rage
Would not be easy to assuage
And goslings flapped their wings in fear
As if to say ‘Get out of here!’
The rooster crowed with all his might
To publicize my sorry plight
And terror-stricken piglets squealed
As rifle cocked, he left the field.
I turned and fled: there’d be no grace
For farmer Giles had picked up pace.
But then, a crack, a curse ; a whopper!
Old Farmer Giles had come a cropper!
This close escape I did embrace
For he had run a wild goose chase!
And as I raised a thankful sigh
A cackling form went flying by!
Competition entry : I accidentally let one loose : Charles Messina 22 July N/A
Applicable Not Applicable Contests Poetry Contest : sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
19.05.19
Categories:
honked, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
Jack was sitting poker faced
With bullets backed by bitches.
Neal hunched at the wheel
Puttin everyone in stitches.
He was braggin 'bout
This nurse he'd screwed,
While drivin through Nebraska.
Said that when she came,
She honked the horn,
And Neal just barely
Missed a truck
And then he asked her
If she'd like to cum like that
All the way to CalifornY?
See a redhead in a uniform
Will always make you horny.
With her hair net and her white
Shoes and a name tag and a hat,
She drove like Andy Granatelli
And knew how to fix a flat!
And Jack was at the bottom
Of his second 2020.
Neal was yellin out the window
Tryin to buy some beannies
From a Lincoln, full of Mexicans
Whose left rear tire blew
And the son's of bitches
Prit near ran us off the road!
Well the nurse had
Spilled the Manischewitz
All up and down her dress,
Then she lit the map on fire
And Neal just had to guess.
Should we try to find
A bootleg route
Or a fillin station open?
The nurse was dumping
Out her purse looking for a kiss.
Jack was out of cigarettes,
When we crossed the yellow line.
The gas pumps looked
Like tombstones from then on.
It felt lonelier than a parking lot
When the last car pulls away.
And the moonlight dressed
The double breasted foot hills
In the mirror, weaving out
A negligee and black brassiere.
The mercury was running hot
And we were almost out a gas,
Just then Florence Nightingale
Dropped her draws and stuck
Her fat ass out the window
To a Wilson Picket tune
And she shouted "get a load of this! "
And give the finger to the moon.
Counting one eyed jacks
And whistlin Dixie in the car,
Neal was doin least a hundred
When we saw a shootin star.
Florence wished that Neal
Would hold her 'stead of chewin his cigar.
Jack was noddin out and dreamin
That he was in a bar,
With Charlie Parker on the bandstand
And not a worry in the world,
And a glass of beer in one hand
And his arm around a girl.
And Neal was singin to the nurse
Underneath a Harken moon
And somehow you could tell
We'd be in CalifornY pretty soon.
Categories:
honked, america, time, travel,
Form:
Free verse
I stand alone in a black and white city
As the smog blends with the picture
I imagine colorful, plentiful sustenance
And look upon filth…
And when the speeding cars honked those relentless horns
I awoke, in a flourishing dream
My eyes opened
It was bright and dazzling
There was joyous birdsong
Yet there, on the rooftops
Who crafted these birds?
Do you laugh at the bard
Who wakes up hopeful in dreams?
Out of my dreams, I live of misery for life’s sake
Of a lost, unattainable love
Of eager waiting and longing
Of sadness and waste
And when the speeding cars honked those relentless horns
My mind and heart awoke
Now I stand here with him
And ponder on our once blissful love
I widen my eyes to stay in the dream
And my heart beats tenderly
When will the birds flutter into my city on earth?
When shall I kiss your lips again?
Categories:
honked, art, depression, devotion, life,
Form:
Free verse
Long, long ago in a village called Sun
Tales were told and stories were spun,
Near a campfire where sweet meats were cooked
And everyone listened whilst Mr Moon looked.
The Owl and The Pussy Cat the wise man had told
That story was dear and worthy of gold,
Cinderella was famous for cats loved what they heard
Admired by many including bluebird.
Though of all the tales by the old and the young
With dancing of scenes and songs they had sung,
A fable had fallen right to the red Earth
Which glittered glow green from beautiful birth.
Great turtle took height with bold book and a bell
All had gone quiet under his spell,
He sneezed once then twice and cheered with a chime
'My story is grand, My story is mine…
Believe this or not once I was small
Smaller than most, most of y’all,
And when I was born under the sands
All was connected, unified lands.
Under the stars I emerged from my nest
Born with a shell naturally dressed,
Oh, how I was proud with my shorter length tail
Until I was stuck on a large piece of shale.
As my brothers and sisters left for blue sea
I was alone poor little me,
Though I dreamt of the seaweed being nightgown
I just happened to be upside down.
Flapping my flippers, I tried to get loose
When along came a soldier Mr Grey Goose'
‘Security Honk!’ he yelled with a shriek
Then lifted me upright with his smooth beak.
'Thank You so much, Thank You my friend
I thought my long journey was going to end,
Then you came along and saved my sweet life
If it were not for you, I’d still be in strife'.
Then he honked very loud and stated real clear
No problem young hatchling this is your year
To swim in the ocean without any fear,
Growing bigger and stronger with sisters and brothers
And during your journey you will help others…
No matter the yarn in Moonlight or Sun
Good times will happen when kind deeds are done.
Categories:
honked, animal, inspirational love, spoken
Form:
Narrative
I woke in the backseat ‘cause sleeping is what I did - -
I hid when we had a many state, family vacation ride.
Daddy said that this time, we would drive straight thru five.
Mama’s hair back was smashed headrest flat cause Sis
pressed against her and they were sleeping like that.
Brother was pressing his back window with his face,
his nose smearing glass, his amusement surely in place.
Dad was focused on a radio baseball game.
Seeing all was good, I found my travel toy case
for safe car play. In no time, pretending took me away.
Soon, noise-crazy frightening, sound attacked and blurred.
“WHAT IN THE WORLD!” was Dad’s first reaction heard.
Many horns HONKED with urge, then cars CRASHED, SWERVED,
two BANG converged, others went BOOM, BUMP up a curb.
Sirens blared, well-lit, brakes were hit, Dad cussed a fit,
Mama and sis stirred. Mama murmured something like ‘absurd’,
While Dad let loose the worst of his really bad, ugly words.
Quickly, I let go of the toy I was holding out my window.
Who knew Slinky's at eighty miles per hour weren’t simple?
Then, without uttering a single concern,
I faked sleep as though I’d never emerged.
For hours my parents could be heard wondering
what had caused traffic to be so disturbed
and thanking God our family wasn’t hurt.
Categories:
honked, car, funny, scary,
Form:
Lyric
The Itemized Bill
An elderly gentleman told me a story today
I just couldn't resist recreating it in rhyme
and share it with all of you. Thanks for reading
Patty loved his new Rolls Royce
Like those he'd bought before
A grin he wore from cheeks to chin
While he made the engine roar
And each time, made his maiden drive
To his best friends home, named Finn
And honked the horn to beckon
His dear old mate "Get in"
They rode along the country roads
With Patty at the wheel
And every turn, Finn discerned
"I like the way it feels"
But not so long, into the trip
There came a clicking noise
It steadily and readily
Concerned both of our boys
"That's it, it's going back
to the dealer to be fixed"
But Finn said "Nigh, I know a Guy
He’s one that knows the tricks"
His name's McGee, and you'll soon see
He knows all there's to know
He's quite close by, and he don’t lie
It's there, we ought to go
They soon arrived, at McGee's
And they told him of the trouble
He said "Wait eer, an 'ave no fear
I'll fix it on the double"
McGee returned, with tool in hand
As Patty popped the bonnet
And there said Finn, wearing a grin
"You see, he's got right on it"
McGee then turned a little screw
and the noise, then went away
Patty danced, reached in his pants
Asked "How much, I want to pay"
Five Hundred pounds , was the sound
That Patty heard so clear
"McGee you sure, I say what for"
Pat gazed at him and jeered
Would you like for me to itemize, I can do it now and here
Patty said, holding his head, "It sure would make it clear"
"It's a pound for me effort, to turn the little screw
And the four-nintynine, to know which one to do"
Categories:
honked, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
We are sick to think we have done something big.
We are in a daze and nothing more.
The cats that came were deformed.
They legs were made to dance.
They pantomime.
The rigmarole was a silent scream.
[Meowl]
They were as colorful as butterflies.
They walked around with scary eyes.
The fat men that brought them were sloppy pigs.
They were sick to think they had done something big.
Immense the ravage these pigs were.
They were friends to the deformed felines.
They stomachs were made to prey human.
The raze caused confusion.
They were to form the great divided.
They walked around with scary eyes.
They would feast on the rodents that thrive in the ground.
They were to be taught this or they would be wiped out.
On a deadly morn, the cats woke.
By noon, the pigs honked.
The people of the City did their work.
This would be the day guns smoked.
The Cats lives were lived in dilapidation.
The Pigs lives were in slop.
The Wild Boars would try to convert.
The pigs were pigs ate by the humans.
The battle started.
The humans killed more.
The wild boars receded.
The deformed felines were destroyed.
MEOWL!
_________|
~Inspired by the expressive art of poetry via storytelling, fantasy, fairy tales, tall tales, etc.~
Categories:
honked, cat, character, dance, day,
Form:
Free verse
My fantasy man – I will always remember him
and how stunning he looked that day
outside my apartment building – tall, dark-eyed, and slim,
and wearing skin-tight levis. Oh, the flirty way
he looked me up and down, intentions clear! Yet not one word did he say.
His friend pulled up, honked the horn, and just like that
he turned to go, but not before he grinned at me
and as he did, he tipped his wide-brimmed hat.
A cocksure and sexy cowboy he appeared to be -
just the kind of guy that so attracted me.
I talked around and learned his name and that he rode a horse.
It turns out that young man was in the current rodeo.
Knowing this, I had to go, of course.
I saw him use a lasso, then ride a bull and not let go
for greater than eight seconds or so!
Foolishly hoping he’d consider meeting me, like a crazy hound
on his scent, I searched the crowd. What’s a smitten girl to do?
I wound up by the stables where I just hung around
dreaming of a future with a man I never even knew!
At last I found him – his arms around the woman he belonged to!
Written March 11, 2018
for Robert Haigh's Eight Word Challenge - 24 lines maximum
Categories:
honked, boy, fantasy,
Form:
Quintain (English)
****
Her name is Miss Pitty Patter.
She's the concrete goose outside.
She's quite a fashion statement.
as she adorn the stoop with pride
Although she doesn't say anything,
She greets you with a smile.
She's quite the talk of the neighborhood.
as she sports the latest styles.
The other day, a flock of geese flew by.
One dropped into say hello
He honked and fluffed his feathers,
"Howdy there! little lady, My name is Joe."
.
"Honk"--"Shall we go for a walk?"
"Honk"-- "I really like your style."
Miss Pitty, Let's sit down and we'll talk.
He did a little dance, and she gave him a smile.
Miss Pitty, "You are quite a handsome looker,
But your heart is made of stone. "
"I believe this relationship is over,"
as he flew off all alone.
Miss Pitty Patter frowned.
Written 11-10-21
Categories:
honked, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form:
Light Verse
In the first flight of several young geese, in the migration going south…
The Elder goose honked time to go, and several young ones wouldn’t come about.
They knew everything. And could, naturally, do everything better on their own.
The Elder knew they’d fight as fiercely for their freedoms, as anything he’d known.
So he arranged for them to fly ahead, knowing he could keep them in his sights.
He knew, it was time to stretch their wings and taste freedom in this flight…
The young ones off to a bad start squabbled over who, among them would lead.
The leader kept a straight line until exhausted, he and the others, couldn’t carry on.
Coming down so exhausted, left them no chance for a protective lake to be found.
Later unprotected, predators were arriving, as The Elder hurried the young ones off.
He took them to a safe, beautiful lake, he knew just over the hill, beyond.
Then The Elder explained that flying point, is as tiresome as flying in a direct line.
And a puff of lift is heaven, when currents from wings ahead of you, are beating wide.
Each ones beating wings give lift to those behind and slightly to the side…
Don’t forget the leader needs to switch places or will become exhausted, with no lift.
Now, a few becoming wiser, had left the young leader to join The Elders’ group.
Others stayed, though now with eyes wide open, and much more wiser I am sure.
The next day, not surprisingly, the young ones setting out gave the Elder his due.
That lift was the greatest thing they had ever felt… Better than candy, if spoken true.
And when the young ones started to land on a most beautifully, inviting lake…
The Elder came rushing in to steer them away from the hunters that therein did await.
Now, finally all the young ones acknowledged, the great wisdom of the old.
With miles to go… No longer did they quibble over what they were told.
My moral is: there are many ways to train the young to be responsible, I am sure...
But experience speaks the loudest when they won’t listen with their ears.
Categories:
honked, adventure, allegory, family, happiness,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
At first sight of first snow colour
Scrapbook memories stir with folk within
Where spirits of love, caring, and sharing were
Whispers of our life we shared, brings wet tears that blur
Of the old farmhouse toasty and warm within-doors
Stipend oak wood was fed into its heart to burn
Fiery amber, yellow, and reds comforting flames would flicker
Crackling, sputtering sound of burning cinders
Wisps of oak mixed with ma’s cooking would journey
Shimmying up its way through the chimney
Outside world had been cloaked in a white glittery sheen
A heartwarming Snowman was always seen
Decked out in his red scarf and top hat beaming
By the front porch greeting passersby
Red Birds perched and rustle the winter evergreens
Conifer and denuded trees would unfurl a story book scene
We would peek out the window when pa honked the horn
On his 1940s green worn out pickup to warn
He was back with a fresh cut noble fir for Christmas morn
11/28/2016
Categories:
honked, home, imagery, memory, snow,
Form:
Free verse
They locked eyes. Engines revved and roared.
When the light flashed green, tires screamed across the pavement,
other horns were honked, and a cup of Coke
flew across the lane divider into the lap of the second driver
even as the car of the first driver veered off
into a ditch, overturned, cabin
crunched into a tree
and three souls rode their last.
The traffic teacher says we must control our emotions, but I know
this is impossible. Emotion binds the heart of every human.
We can control our responses to these feelings, or else
ignore them entirely.
I wish I could choose the latter.
Categories:
honked, death, introspection, life, lost
Form:
Narrative
The saddest tears to me are from the eyes of a clown.
What does he have to cry about? When his job
Is to bring many happiness. I always hated my job.
Kids and balloons and cake that breaks me out.
Parents lying to like me only for my clown services.
My life is linked to popped balloons.
I cried and got fired all in one day at a kid’s birthday party.
Black tears from my eye liner drip on a white paste cheek.
Followed by a red nose that honked if you squeezed it hard enough.
An orange curly haired wig that covered such a tragic mind.
A poke- a -dot costume that covered a broken heart.
Who sees a clown’s pain, When it’s covered in laughter.
I’ve always wondered when I would have my last laugh
With this job. But today all I noticed is my last tear.
Categories:
honked, confusion, cry, dark, deep,
Form:
Narrative