Best Hoo Ha Poems
Wise owl at his post
"hoo, ha, hoo...hoo, hoo, hoo, hooooo"
thus he gives a hoot!
Don't know about you but I love to sneeze
A good one will bring me down to my knees
Blasting my head right off of my neck
A feeling that makes me an absolute wreck
Shivering on down to my little ole toes
You certainly must know how that all goes
Feels so damn sexy I might hasten to add
A sensation that drives me totally mad
Sure rather sneeze than peel potatoes
Prefer sneezing to playing with Play-Doh
Nicer than poking a sharp stick in my eye
Not quite as painful as a dart in my thigh
Imagine your hoo-ha being caught in a vice
Can't be very pleasant, sure can't be nice
Wanna sneeze till I'm rolling on the floor
Gimme that feeling, want more, more, more
But don't tell my friends I beg of you please
Kinda embarrassed about loving to sneeze
© Jack Ellison 2012
The nation is very rich indeed
But,
Wounded out of loss direction;
Wounded out of lack of ambition,
Weeping out of lack of impulse;
Wounded out of lack of imagination,
Ingeniously exhumed out of the citadel of corruption;
While the funereal ultimately boils down to collateral.
In the funky train,
All the hoo-ha-noisy end in fisticuff;
And the crumpled greenback hand-out cough,
The law has nothing to handcuff,
Kindred turned puppets loss of self-worth in defacto state
of war,
Faced with hemorrhaging despondency;
And splitting migraine disillusionment,
Miseenscene always greeted with fire and blood,
With fight and struggle half dead;
To trip in goats, straw and timber carrier,
Inevitable suicide spoof of teeming commuters,
And a caterwauling exodus end in thousands of legs under
the sea,
Carnival of Sharks tongue-smacked and praise-devour the
abundant feast;
While the aura of authority has little or nothing fish,
Often, sudden delight death cry of assailed victims,
Owa! Owa! Owa! {Alight}
A cry for shanty shambles bus stop,
As if deaf, the tyrant conductor
Lashes out in blinding curse and abuse;
Pressing and shoving for umpteenth fares,
Owa! Owa! Owa!
A plead for just a measure of tonic air,
Hard kerchief to wipe off addicted
Face of invincible gossamer,
Diabolical gene galloping in strides;
As compassion flees from rigours of heart of stone,
If swearing non-syllabic stunned altercating joust;
Could result in re-ordering of the lost world,
Plotless plastic lives of mean children of absentee Mamas
and Papas,
Would gauche braggadocio even king to brutal submission;
O! wretched loud louts touts,
Very loud louts touts foaming with tactless forming;
A riposte, may your road be rough,
A stamp on every man destiny.
There once was an old dude, quite a prude
Never drank never smoked up, never crude
Till one fine day
A girlie did play
With his hoo ha, sure changed the old dude's mood!
© Jack Ellison 2013
In the funky train,
All the hoo-ha-noisy end in fisticuff;
As the crumpled greenback hand-out cough,
The law has nothing to handcuff,
Maneuvering on the sloppy storey hill
A frantic dance of dead-drunk crazy masquerade;
Man-handling the dare-devil by weary drenched soaked in
talisman man,
Springs from a ream hole in the floor
Hand-shuffling on long iron pole gear,
Wrestling with reckless white knuckles of steering wheel;
A nipple for torch-light knob looking tough headlamps,
A bare-face speedometer, a mare decor;
Rear is bare, except fanning out putrid fart in
defecating vulva;
And a pumping brake failure refused to catch,
Disaster looms down a glitch away,
Marijuana induced braggarts, bang at the battered dent
body;
All acted in the climatic anti-climax role in the tragic
play,
As horn and side mirrors, villains make do,
Ghastly farewell garland to stranded passengers on
departure;
Welcome to hellish shore of grimacing dismember carcasses,
From the extinct scratched my backside please dense
Bolekaja view,
Stigmatized masses muck arranged tight,
File in wooden slavery mule;
And the pompous promise land looks a light years away,
Now on the garish cold rusted cut steel,
Buttocks crammed on planks for seats;
Knees folded to gangrene stroke roost,
Pillaged and pilloried, rasped and gasped for a slice bread
of life,
Staled sweats seeped and poured decayed stench on forms;
***** squeezed queued on narrow alley,
Romancing buttocks swell sips to bursting through;
And the lushing rhythmic beating drum
Re-enters lock and brake,
Dilepa dilepa dilepa duro nube o!
Omokunrin kan ti daran nube o!
Ofowo kanmi loyan me solo!
ofowo kanmi nidi me solo!
Toku toku lona nkan boyi o!
Komo ipe kolokolo lahere wa!
Hoo Ha or pee pee
Trouser or skirt
Football or Barbie
What can it hurt
Pink or blue
Stiletto or flat
Pantie or brief
Where are you at?
Sugar and spice
Snips and snails
Flip it over
Always comes up tails
Tough Tom
Nelly Nancy
All made up
But never fancy
Child of love
Love my child
Take it as it comes
Mild or wild
Understanding construct
And legislating depravity
Don't always side
With what we can see
Jane maybe John
And John maybe Jane
But knowing how to love
Is what keeps me sane.
General contractors
For gender construct
Put up drywall
Based on duct
But I want my house
Different from constraint
One that welcomes all
Free from social restraint.
The wine & I
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Hoo-ha !! cheers
The wine and I tonight
A racket we will clamor
Talk is cheap .. hic
WINE:
“I am Chardonay
Was once a fruit on a vine
Now I am a dry white”
ME:
“I thought you were
Risling or maybe Pinotage
Sorry are we in the month of May
Hic .. or is this my third glass”.
WINE:
“Your third bottle now
I'm running on empty
I‘m better with turkey
So I am wanted”
ME:
“Who you calling turkey !
I'll have you smoked
Bloody nerve you (s)wine !”
WINE:
“oh you talk ..
Then try me with salmon”
ME
“someone going where ?”
WINE:
“not what I said”
ME:
“what now ..?”
WINE
“i am i said
the barman’s finest
Best with fish”
ME:
“wish for ?”
WINE
“Oh dear …
Waited on a rack
So long…
And now
I get you “
ME:
“ hic ..
Mind your own...
Business comma hic”
WINE:
“ I am the barman’s finest”
ME:
“how dare you call me
the crow’s nest”
hic
Endangered Species
This one is true
No tongue-in-cheek wink
The poor Hoo-ha crab
Is becoming extinct
They say that the women
Trimmin’ today
Have left the poor Hoo-ha crab
No place to stay
They need warmth and protection
From a natural forest
Or they’ll soon go the way
Of the late Brontosaurus
The poor Hoo-ha crabs
Will never do well
Till women revert
And go au-nat-chur-el
Crabs want to go back
To when women were lax
No pruning of landscapes
No Brazilian wax
A time when the Hoo-ha crab
Multiplied fast
A time for the Hoo-ha crab
Now in the past
And before you jump on me
I know that it’s true
A guy can get Hoo-ha crabs
Just as easy as you
For men now have taken to
Manscapes and trimmin’
At the whim and the pleasure
Of Hoo-ha trimmed women
Note:
Doctors now say
Hoo-ha crab incident
Has drastically dropped
About 80 percent
Plucky, we see the pond
With dervish eyes we bond
Dive in the great beyond
And ooh la la
He thinks she’s quite a dish
Handsome’s her one true wish
Into the sheets they swish
With great oompah
Like thrashing out of sea
Steamy fish feel so free
As who they’re meant to be
Waves wild hoopla
Of two young shades of gray
Whipped up, the seas obey
Oui! Oui! Risqué-parlez*
Midlife’s booya!
The calming of the deep
Married love never cheap
Embraced hearts fall asleep
After hoo-ha
3/15/2018
Mick Talbot’s Violette Poetry Contest
*What’s love without a little French ;)
Pronounced: wee wee risk-ay par-lay
Oui - Yes
Risqué - verging on impropriety or indecency (bedroom banter)
Parlez - Speak
Booya - urban dictionary: hell, yeah
Way back before this baby boomer waz astute
countless decades before aye became long in the tooth,
and also prior tomb ma sporting dentures to boot
fond memories rush more than so far back
envisioning illusory wind blown steppes
(wait...this visage belongs to thine
long since deceased maternal grandfather
hub hill eave didst hail from Kiev,
or some place thereabouts) within the mind
of this prevaricating aging
"FAKE" barnstorming ole coot
preserved records (those times b'fore cds or dvds)
and now rewinds tape when family of origin
celebrated Xmas secular Harris
house style rendition of Magic Flute,
though genealogy steeped in Judaism
recollections abound of boyhood mirth
devoid of rubric asper orthodox and/or reformed
Judeo-Christian religion,
which essentially means,
I did not give or take a hoot
nonetheless cherish fond memories,
when ma late mum
relished making a hoo ha,
and got tickled and pickled pink
rousing a hullabaloo wrapping presents
and jamming three knee high stockings
with healthy goodies such as fruit
cuz, as a devotee of Carleton Fredericks,
she frowned on giving out sweets
particularly to three children she begat,
and iced hill easily recall her poker faced
feigning complete ignorance and surprise
sheep played “dumb” as did father
convincingly not giving a hoot
puzzled asper neatly wrapped and
stacked gifts under decorated tree
while distorted reflections of stockings
fractal shimmers from metallic gewgaws
in tandem of nostalgic magic
worth mo' than any amount of loot,
perhaps Christmas festivities a flash point,
when some jolly codger (papa)
dressed up, sans Santa Claus suit
and petsmart dogs doubled up as reindeer,
whose canine barking, cavorting, and dashing
haphazardly set them on a direct route
to pandemonium as crashing trimmed tree
cacophony elicited laughter, punctuated
with irrepressible escaped bursts of flatulence
(ah wont mention hoof from)
that emulated a toot.
Coffee hot, coffee cold, doesn't matter I am sold
Ain't nuttin' yummier, cept a filly unclothed
Now whoa, hold on a jiff
Did you say a sexy young dish
Stroking my hoo ha getting me started on the road
Baloney, bumfuzzle, fiddledeedee
Taradiddle, gardyloo, snickersnee
Gobbledygook, gardyloo, tickle me,
Hullabaloo, cattywampus hogwash hoo-ha
Claptrap, collywobbles ballyhoo brouhaha!
~A Brian Strand 4 or 5 line contest.
As par and parcel of being
alive wire impossible aye
to maintain totally tubularly
literarily celibate by and bye
with parochial restraint antiseptic dry
as dust poetic refrains
asper this healthy older guy
devoid of physical whim zee
unlike a inscrutable eunuch...so hi
there dear reader experienced
by this self contrived Zen
minded nonestablishmentarian outlier,
whose nonconformist yen
tries to steer clear of controversy,
heresy, prurient wen
unless one happened
to be eunuchized,
i.e. sexless as a cold oven,
but similar to generic men
this writerly hen
pecked husband dully
drumming, droning, and
dribbling as a lix spittle
aged chap housed within
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania bailiwick
though far less inclined
to whet ma lil atrophied dipstick
than some young buck
at the peak of his sexual prowess
every now and again viz,
aye feel a much slighter sensation
drubbing, crackling, and
buckling mine body electric
and attempt to record
re: font ten blue type
boldface and/or Italic
such infrequently occurring
fleeting Johnson magic
speculating why the
hoo ha regarding mystic
spell binding codas,
dogmas, and enigmas,
an integral component naturalistic
within the calculus of life,
when human species
(parenthetically), naturally, inherently,
and biologically opportunistic
akin to other organisms whose quixotic
antics allow NON GMO,
MSG, and gluten free,
and uncensored discussion
asper reproductive habits rhapsodic
with floral and/or faunal symphonic
emanations donning each their own
"NON FAKE" trumpeting
spectacular humbly modest
rubric, yet...universalistic
as being linkedin
within the cosmic whirled wide web.
D'ya know what flips my flipper?
yup! you guessed, a bevy of beauties
hanging on to my body parts
uh, massaging my cheeks (oops, sorry)
uh, massaging my extension (oops, again)
look I'm trying... did I just hear you say
“yes, VERY trying”
just a normal male stud with
an overactive out-of-control masculine libido
we're all the same eh, and you thought
“no, this guy is more refined!!!”
ha! fooled ya... I'm just the same over-sexed
divine specimen of a male stud
that you've read about in that dime-store
novel you read while sitting on the throne
okay okay I see some wee ones present
what I meant to say,
“I'm just the same over-vexed
divine specimen who just needs a nudge”
(you know, like my hoo-ha, that is)
okay, my flipper is flopping again
hang on while I try to calm it down!
uh... my mind... have you seen it lately
it's around here somewhere!
oh my... what the hell am I trying to say!!!
oh, oh, they're here to take me back again!
Choosing which shade of white,
drives most people up the wall.
There's at least
152 shades of white
to choose from.
Despite being well: "Just White"
It's the subtle hue, blah blah,
hubris and hoo-ha,
that comes to the fore.
White can be darker, lighter,
cooler or warmer,
extra bright or dim,
so so cool, boring or subdued.
"Wind's Breath", "Extra White"
"Moonlight White at Night".
How can you choose?
It's the paints position, lighting, shade
and context that makes
the decision so complex.
Any color tinge, even within plain stark white
Can evoke a profound emotional reaction.
“Pristine” whites feel frigid cold, like ice.
Tiny tints of yellow, orange and red
feel "happy", “warm” or “sunny.”
Subtle slurps of green or blue
feel "natural" and "homely".
But, beware my friend,
Never ever choose:
"Off White" or
"Shades of Gray"
Heaven Forbid!