A man I am and near my end.
I have other men to call me friend.
And women round me for the lust
And four leaf clover for the luck.
Beer or buttermilk to drink
And time I have to sit and think.
I have meadows which to mow
And I have crops which to sow.
I have men that call me sir.
I have work to be concerned.
I have obligations piled.
Work to do from mile to mile.
I'd trade it all, to be, you know
A barefoot boy, with a fishing pole.
To rest in the shade by a river bed
Soft grass to lay my youthful head.
Fish and skip stones on waters calm
And sleep out all night -when it's warm.
To unravel natures mystery there
Why the turtle wears a shell?
How the Oriole's nest is hung?
How the frog's croak is sung?
Why the Blue-Bell does not ring?
Why the hornet likes to sting?
My work keeps me shod like a mule
Only in dreams, youthful things I do.
When work here ends, to Heaven I go
To be a barefoot boy, with a fishing pole.
Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2007
When you wear a dirty shirt,
You're a book getting judged by its cover.
People think you're really poor, or nutty,
Or that you have a menial job.
Or that you're all three of those,
And then they throw in a bunch of other things too.
Maybe you're a drug addict, living rough,
Or a drug dealer, uncaring about the law and common decency,
Existing on the margins of society.
Maybe you're just a doggone slob.
Maybe you have some disease.
But maybe you just got the darn thing really dirty,
Like dirty where there's no coming back from it.
No detergent will get it all out, but then at least you don't smell bad.
Maybe you came up against something ferociously, savagely dirty,
Like the underside of a semi-truck trailer,
Where there is a wicked layer of grease that's attracted
Enough dirt to choke an entire basketball team.
Not that basketball players are all that acclaimed as dirt-eaters,
And you won't find most people messing about underneath semi-truck trailers,
But I've done it because once in a while I drive a big truck for my employer,
And when you unhook the trailer from the tractor,
You have to pull the pin on the 'fifth wheel' -
That's what holds the trailer to the tractor.
You have to bend down low and reach in, under the front of the trailer,
And that's where all that nasty dirty grease is -
I mean, let me tell you - you might not even feel it,
But there could be a mark on you like somebody took a wide paintbrush,
Soaked in thick black paint, and just gave you a good swipe with it.
Your shoulder or back could have the Mark of Cain on it, dude....
Or dudette, no sexism here, and speaking of that,
There is an epidemic of people out there who need to put down their toys,
And just drive their darn vehicles. Not being sexist here -
it's both males and females, though it's mostly from ages 15 to 30.
I mean, if you are in that age group, then there is one big honkin' chance
That you are texting while you're supposed to be driving.
When you drive a big truck, you see right down into all those other vehicles,
You see what's going on, and they are swerving all over the darn place,
And slowing down and speeding up because
they can't even manage to do two things at once,
And let me tell you, sports fans, it's pretty doggone irritating.
Makes you want to choke them with dirt, no basketball texts required.
Let's say it's one of those prissy, fancy, "society girl" types,
Who spends enough money on makeup and clothes
to choke a third-world country.
Would be nice to raise the temperature of that cell phone up -
to 500 degrees or so, really give her a surprise,
or magically trade shirts with her -
Suddenly she's got your filthy one on, and you've got hers on,
But that wouldn't work too well for me, because then with my luck
There would be some poor guy standing right in front of me,
And the buttons would be popping of the girl's blouse,
I mean exploding off there like death hornet projectiles
Because I'm way bigger than that girl, and the poor bugger
Gets his eyes put out by the buttons, ends up blind,
And can't coach basketball very well any more.
So.... So there....
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016
It's Halloween, that spooky time of year,
when scary monsters prowl the streets all night.
The costumes sometimes give us such a fright -
our heads with trepidation fill with fear,
but light the candles then they disappear.
Young children's faces shining with delight,
lit up by pumpkin lantern's glowing light;
with bags of candy kids run off and cheer.
Some teenage children take it all too far
and play their tricks when they don't get a treat.
I find smashed eggs upon my house and car,
then I use language I should not repeat!
Next year I'll have my front door just ajar
and wear a white face pack and old bed sheet.
Italian Sonnet - abbaabba cdcdcd
Contest: Mad as a Hornet
Sponsor: John Lawless
Entered into Halloween Contest
Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Oh buzz off you crazy crazy hornet
Trying to land here upon my buttock,
Here I am eating my crispy cornet
Lazing naked in my garden hammock.
Tried to coax it with my berry ice cream
But alas it seems unprepared or blind,
Dancing upon an invisible beam
Homing in on me with a one track mind.
Could it be I’ve enhanced the essence air
With a gross wind to further relieve me,
Or is this a mock symphony of flair
Of a Britain’s got talent “Bumble Bee?”
His “The classical flight” winning first prize
In pain my swelling one hell of a size!
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2015
If I could be a cartoon character
Which one would I be
I thought about being Fred Flinstone
But he's too old-fashioned for me
And then there's maybe George Jetson
A man who knew electronics
Nothing like Yosemite Sam
Who needed to be hooked on phonics
And what about Shaggy and Scooby
You gotta love those scooby snacks
I've never really considered a Smurf
And their tiny little mushroom shacks
Or maybe I'd become a super hero
Who comes to save the day
Batman , Green Hornet or Underdog
Who puts the bad guys away
Maybe I'd live in Jellystone Park
Where Yogi is the king
For Hello Mr Ranger Sir
Is just the funniest thing
Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2010
Upon a tattered pillow, curled up tight
He sleeps through happy hours without a stir;
Tail wrapped around and paws tucked out of sight
Beneath a purring ball of gray-striped fur.
Well-fed, secure, and free from any care,
A king within the realm of simple ways,
He comes and goes at whim with stately air
And eats and sleeps and plays away his days.
We toss upon our lavish king-sized bed
As nightmares echo worries of mankind—
We, harvesters of knowledge, amply fed,
Go starving for the food of peace of mind.
Sleep well, "dumb animal," sweet feline pet,
While "Homo Sapiens" pays wisdom's debt.
Sandra M. Haight
Contest: Mad As A Hornet - Sonnet
Sponsor: John Lawless
I am "Mad As A Hornet" because with all our super
intelligence and outstanding accomplishments, humans
have still not been able to achieve peace and tranquility
in this world.
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
Listen to the trees…
how dark their voices in the moonless night--
unnerving shades that only today were bright, green, sunny things;
and now their quivering leaves, remind me more
of scarecrow sleeves,
nearby not a bird would light
unless he were a terrible sight.
Listen to the wind…
storm voice near the distant eye--
Listen! Listen! Listen! Such a thunderous cry!
There!--the last ray of sunlight gone, in a fester of billowing clouds;
with the last quiet moment, in a splatter of furious sounds;
down the torrent upon us
the wind like sickles and mowing blades;
Listen! Listen! Listen!--to the trees now toppling shades.
Yet, in the midst of all madness--
the air, a hornet of frantic leaves;
wind tugging at our garments,
flapping and fluttering like scarecrow sleeves--
a quiet comes over us;
halfway through passes a silent eye;
blesses us with a peaceful moment;
reassuringly winks good-bye….
Copyright © Joe DiMino | Year Posted 2016
The dog seen a rabbit and how he did chase
to catch that little critter and boy what a race
But one thing that rabbit knew as he ran away
he was not going to be lunch for that dog today
Around the tree and into the bushes he went
the dog was right after that little rabbit's scent
the dog was so busy that he never did see
that big old hornet nest way up in the tree
running and barking and making a sound
made all the hornets start buzzing around
They all made a dive and together they flew
when they hit the dog he knew he was through
He made up his mind right there and then
he would never go chasing that rabbit again
Copyright © Oma Bennett | Year Posted 2007
A is for Ant, tiny but stout, they can lift fifty times their own weight,
B is for Bee, reaps nectar for honey; may opt to attack if made irate.
C is for Cricket, chirps his best at night to attract stunning female,
D is for Dragonfly, fast flier with two pairs of wings; strong not frail.
E is for Earwig, type of beetle with a pair of pinchers on his belly,
F is for Fly; an ugly pest that invades picnics or anything smelly.
G is for Glow worm, lady of the night, turns on her light for her mate,
H is for Hornet; female ran colony, few males have right to date.
I is for Inchworm, lack legs in body core causing a looping gait,
J is for June bug, beetle that swarms in June; starving toads seal their fate.
K is for Kissing bug, sucks blood from the lips or face of unsuspected beasts,
L is for Lady bug, beauty to behold; tastes repulsive to say the least.
M is for Mosquito, female pest that drinks blood, causes disease in return,
N is for Nit, eggs of lice clinging to hair till hatched making itch a concern.
O is for Owlfly, dragonfly-like but not related; with large bulging eyes,
P is for Praying mantis, takes praying pose before ensnaring lunch surprise.
Q is for Queen Butterfly, close relative to Monarch, russet with black edge,
R is for Rice weevil, pest that lives inside grain; growing in the secured wedge.
S is for Stink bug, releases foul smell from its thorax when alarmed,
T is for Tsetse fly, bloodsucking kin to house fly; a human host is harmed.
U is for Underwing, heavy large moth that flies at night; hated garden pest,
V is for Vine borer, moth larva bore in squash vines; sweet insides they ingest.
W is for Water bug, stores air in a void under his wings; walks on water,
X is for Xerces Blue Butterfly, first U.S. butterfly extinct by home slaughter.
Y is for Yellow plant bug; devastates plants by feeding on tasty plant sap,
Z is for Zebra butterfly, has striking stripes; creaks when he’s faced with a scrap.
From A to Z there is a menagerie of insects sharing our lives,
some have become extinct but an infinite amount still survives.
Copyright © 2013 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Fifth Place Winner ~ "Z is for Zaria: An ABC Couplet" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Cyndi MacMillian
April 3, 2013
Footnote: I am a sixty-two year old woman who still loves writing poetry, whether I can or not…
Copyright © Caryl Muzzey | Year Posted 2013
My vile tongue betrays me, rage defiles words.
A dragon’s flamed breath scorches far less.
From buried heartache, my ill soul’s duress
festers in mourning, locked tight and unheard.
Skies of ash smolder and silence the birds.
Their lyrics once earnest are lies professed.
Oh, dawn vengeful dawn, my foe to confess!
I’ll die with my rage, alone, I’m assured.
I wonder if death shall be my relief
from hours overwrought by lies and deceit.
My inner-rage boils, calloused is my soul;
a soul void of love and cloaked in its grief.
As chill of death comes to snuff rage's heat,
I pray for the love and peace, anger stole.
written 11/20/15 for John's Mad As A Hornet Contest
*Italian Sonnet - rhyme scheme abbaabba cdecde
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
Just like the days of the old Pharisees,
they who accused Jesus of heresies;
She points with self-righteous indignation,
yet herself, is the naked temptation.
Miss High and Mighty, thinks she’s always right,
makes computations with limited light.
Monochromatic malicious mindset,
jealous of someone, she aims to upset.
You poke and pry, think I’d quietly die,
go stick with your tribe but don’t multiply.
I have been patient, been lax but not blind;
I'm rarely this mad, enough with your kind.
Think twice before you start breaking my bone;
“Let him who is blameless, cast the first stone.”
28 October 2015
Mad as a Hornet Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015
Sonnet ‘O Sarcasm, Not
When too frequently posed the question of “you’re not mad at me are you?”
The quick, smart Aleck, retort of “dogs get mad, people get angry or even”, usually follows depending on what they did do.
The following discourse exacerbates whatever is a ’brew.
I say this sometimes anyway, it has become a habit; some do not have a clue!
Imagine that? Sarcasm comes off as nasty, who knew?
Many times, it is condescending, like boasting, who the hell are you?
Human beings are social animals alike our hornet friends
Each hornet communicating with his or her own secret language, no sarcasm necessary
When one stirs up a hornets’ nest, literally or metaphorically, neither species tend to break out into song as the ends
Spell it please? I- T. Huh? Will you say that again? That again!Sarcastic tones sound immensely arrogant and demeaning.
Laughter is absolutely non-essential to sarcasm, like when shortcomings are used to shame.
Do not be discouraged, even Plato has been to blame
Some think sarcasm funny, but it is the lowest form of wit,
And using it to bring others down makes me as mad as a hornet.
Copyright © jill spagnola | Year Posted 2015
World, beware of the turmoil to come, don't be caught in your hiding
succumbing to erratic fear, oppress all shivers and face the vile assailant
with a defying glance, then bite him...be that hornet with a venomous sting
to end his brutality: he came to destabilize your land to achieve conquest!
Never comply, disregard a concept that spreads chaos and ignores justice,
come forward warriors and defeat with valor the blood-thirsty and the mad;
your fight is for an honorable cause: you're the hornets that are eager to bite,
and poison the enemy with your venom that's very painful when injected!
Don't wait until the threat becomes real, use your instincts and do prevail,
these godless and lawless men ferociously attack whoever despises them;
when we stir up their anger, they can be more vicious than hungry lions that maul:
they come forward and speak evil, their intent is to spread global mayhem!
I rather make peace than fight, revel in my freedom and shake hands with others:
If I must fight to preserve my liberties, I will indeed: I'll be a hornet fearless of bees!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2015
United Colours: Yellow
Yellow Panda Bandit
Caution Beware we have reports that the Infamous Bumble Bee Panda Bandit is near,
He was seen in the light of the pale moon robbing the local Golden Spoon right here.
Believed to be armed and dangerous wielding his two Hornet Guns feeling courageous,
although his spine is yellow scared little fellow, your jaundiced fur is just outrageous!
Copyright © Brian Davey | Year Posted 2016
Sitting with calm you know I'm a psychotic love
bewitching I watch your entanglement affair
going insane my voice in my mind gives a shove
playing around my wrath has made you unaware
Treachery and your sweet talk with my loyalty lost
hysterically I laugh outside her window 'Dear'
my sting will be swift like a lonely hornet wasp
giving her all your promise and affections I sneer
To the play you say to see 'Madam Butterfly'
your twinkling eyes lusting into the room she glides
relish your moment with the pleasure of your prize
The dagger awaits in my dress tied to my waist
tonight's biggest performance your death as I pace
then mine at the end the dagger I slide with grace.
10/18/2015 Contest Sponsored by: John Lawless ' Mad as a Hornet'
( 12 syllable ) 4,4,3,3
Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015
Who the hell do you think you are
Being SO judgmental
You're looking down your nose at me
The "truth" that you and chastity
are both synonymous
Is really quite an travesty
It's rather quite obnoxious
Instead of throwing stones my way
Peer at a looking glass
and then if what you see's a saint
Then pelt those stones with class
for all that you accuse me of
is what you do as well
you live a life devoid of love
give others taste of hell
I'm mad; I'm mad; I'm over steamed
I'm really livid too
For you're a sinner, just like me
You know, my dear, it's true!!!
Thanks Andrea for getting my "angry" muse to speak. Inspired after reading Andrea's entry for Mad as a Hornet Contest.
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
you want to feed
the birds and squirrels
but not the rats and roaches
a little kindness for the cute
but none for those that poaches
we make pets of
cats and dogs
but rarely play with
snakes and frogs
visit the elephants
at the zoo
mind the carnivorous
don't dance with wolves
or swim with gators
they'll try to eat you
now or later
mind the hornet
and the spider
ones a stinger
the other a bitter
it's just the same
with friends and foes
what they are
spiders, wolves, dogs, rats
ready to stab you in the back
when you least expect it
just like that
night will fall
and they'll attach
without a warning
peep or quack
it's all over
just like that
your money or your life
your girlfriend or your wife
a she devil or a saint
what she did that made you faint
we should causciously
choose our friends
what they are
we won't know till the end
just like the word, friend
the last half of that word
is spelled end
Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2011
Batman had some guests who outdid their stay
By making a muddle with their foul play
Robin was first, yet his diet of late
Were larva and worms that slid off his plate
Spiderman came without hesitation
Except his kids caused an infestation
By crawling about for a place to spin
And webbing the doors so none could get in
He welcomed Green Hornet as a fond guest
But not all his tiny flying pet pests
Ant-man and The Wasp also brought their kids
Which added hundreds of problems, they did
As Batman fluttered behind them that night
He couldn’t refrain from taking a bite
Of heroic spawn in many guises
Coz they bugged Batman and came in pint sizes
For Comic Book Character Contest
Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2015
Much to do
Yes it's true
Sit in chair
Look and stare.
What a mess
Just start small
I won't fall
Choose one thing
It won't sting
Do it quick
That's the trick.
Stay on task
Make it last.
Good it's true.
On all day
Pick up house
Remove the trash
Do it fast.
Clean the loo
Lots to do.
Do some wash
Be the boss.
It is wise.
Give a try.
Get it done
Make it fun.
When not use
Time to lose.
Mold and must.
Sweep all stair.
I will see
Will feel free.
Rooms get neat
Do not quit
Or even sit.
Do not shirk
Pride in work
Till all done
I"ll have won.
If I heed
All I need.
Keep it nice
Don't think twice.
Do it now
Then take bow.
All the help.
Take my time
Do not whine.
No more mess
Do my best.
No dark cloud
Didn't take long
Cleared the mess
Keep it up
Peace and joy
Time to rest
Done my best.
It's now home
No more alone.
No longer dream.
Little a day
Make it stay.
Just for me
Clean will stay.
Show my son
It can be done.
He will do
His own too.
We're a team
Got to clean.
Need to share
Make it fair.
Time is now
This is how.
Soon I'll see
More from me.
Fight thru pain
Much to gain.
No more run
Must get done.
Have my plan
Time to stand.
Lead the way
Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013
he rubbed his eyes
and said you just think that way
so you always have an answer ready
which may well constitute
a state of pure entertainment
with multiple jaw grinding orgasms
in a dog lick dog kind of world
at Cathode Ray's tanning salon
so what would it really take
for the union to lay down with the banker
I'm not sure high above the clouds
is the place to find anything
certainly not a mirror to be had
much less a cinema projector
with scenes of domestication
good god Reginald where
do you plan to put that thing
Reginald sneezed his false teeth
into his dinner plate as an augury
probed prodded palpated
looking for the intelligentsia
in the yellow pages
but they were yellow and didn’t stand out
their attempts to overthrow evolution
led to a cornucopia of calamity
at the crossroads of conundrum
traded their thumbs for a reliable statistic
the atmospherics garbled the transmission
and made anyone look like a prophet
left my friends hanging from lamp posts
adulterers heretics and infidels
cataleptics ablaze with legend
trained by biblical harlots
tending their hornet infested gardens
avoiding the irredeemably antique
and inexact to a criminal degree
in the war between belief and certainty
my script supervisor just pulled the plug
he's not from Sesame Street
he's from Bastille Boulevard
the artist is bait and accident prone
opaque as an 8 ball at high velocity
caroming through every nave and vestibule
bladder control found again
in the midst of bourgeoisie panic
a meditation of involvement
I'm going where
the disorder of discovery is tolerated
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Copyright © Walter Alter | Year Posted 2016
Slither in, slither out, and look inside;
my borders are locked, the pale curtains thin
yet flames of vengeance stir from battered pride,
and rage is the owner that lives within.
The floors smell of acid, my betrayed past
a tear, a deceit from one scheming rake;
when nights’ lesion nips this maiden, outcast
as fury whips from a spirit’s mistake.
My gate at the front hides a moonlit view
that cracks with rust without making a sound,
it’s latch of distaste I can’t share with you
for heart is numb ; the key is not around.
Though empty this place of anger may be;
Iron are the walls, now it handles me.
Mad As A Hornet--Sonnet Contest
Sponsor: john lawless
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015
I’m mad as a hornet, which means mad as hell,
Cause somebody’s saying I write too “cliché.”
Well, I’ve had it to here. Now can’t you tell?
I don’t give a hoot what he has to say!
So what if I’m not some snot’s cup of tea?
I’ll write however I want, for Pete’s sake!
He doesn’t know beans! Good for nothing is he.
I’ll just tell that nut to jump in a lake.
He says that my imagery is not unique,
Yet meanwhile, that no-talent writes for the birds!
Like a hole in the head, I need his critique!
He best watch his back, and them’s fightin’ words.
His high lofty thoughts - I need none of those.
In fact, I will shove them all up his nose!
(Just being silly, but this was fun)
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
He spits his oatmeal all over the place;
holds his breath, now he's got a blue face.
He wants cookies and not just one.
He throws a fit, if he gets none.
He fell out of his chair and bumped his head.
That made him mad, now his cheeks are all red.
He pees his pants if he doesn't get his way.
He's cranky 'cause he's not had a nap today.
He wants another bottle so I tried to hide it.
He toddles around to try and find it.
He got it, now he's sucked it dry.
He can't get enough of that good old rye.
He's mad as a hornet with his stinger out.
Another day in the life of Grandpa Stout!..
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2015
The hornet looked down on the field below,
Then said to his honeybee friend,
“That alluring sweet scent that does blow,
Means I’ve got work to attend!“
The honeybee nodded, “Yes, let’s quench our thirst,
We can have fun on a nectar spree,’’
‘Well true, said the hornet, but I saw it first,
So that field belongs just to me-"
The honeybee turned without making the buzz,
She always made when saying goodbye,
The hornet took stance and shook all his fuzz,
As the honeybee let out a sigh-
The honeybee asked, “Why can't we agree."
Where's all your manners and charm?”
Then looking down she was surprised to see,
Something that gave her alarm!
The honeybee tried to warn her friend,
By spinning and turning around,
“Better stop now ‘cause you’ll come to your end,
If you dare fly into that ground-“
The hornet smirked and became very loud,
“I’m greedy and I don’t care-
To me, more than one is a crowd,
And these flowers I’m not going share-”
Now the pitcher plants intently gazed up,
Applauding the words that were said,
They knew that the selfish, greedy hornet was "SUP,"
And would end up ‘midst their petals with dread!
Now dear reader, I hope the lesson here is one that you will heed;
Misfortune may await you, if you take what you want with greed!
End of Poem -
but FYI Pitcher plants emit a sweet scent, attracting bees
and other insects and once an insect ventures into the
mouth of these plant, it will face a long, suffering death...
Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2015
Abc, Abecedarian, acrostic, alliteration alexandrine
Salaam, sehraa senyru, sestina, sijo, shape, sonnet
The list of forms of writing poesy is hopelessly endless
O angels of all these poetic forms I worship thee blindly!
When didst thou all give an audience to man to school him
On these plethora of poetic forms to befuddle the muddlehead?
Never had I heard such scary terms before joining Poetry Soup
Life and poetry were much easier with no tensions no insomnia
Simply pouring out my uncontrollable thoughts and emotions
I cringe when I read of restrictions of limited lines in poetic forms
My ice-creams don't melt, autumn strolls have to to be cut short
Get mad as a hornet whether to write señorita a sonnet or sonetto
Nayda, I enjoy weaving my prosaic didactic and euphoric thoughts
Into my qasida with alliterations, imageries, allusions humorously
October 29, 2015
Contest: Which Is Your Favourite Form Of Poetry?
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron)
*This poem is a satiric amalgamation of many forms-sonnet, qasida, acrostic (in parts-eg, line 1&2, 3-5, 6&7-for the purpose of parody), humour....
*Qasida (weaving) is a satirical Persian form, opens with a short prelude, the nasib, which is elegiac in mood and is intended to gain the audience’s involvement
* in this parody I have used the alliteration in the first two lines as a 'nasib'
* In the last line the pun is used for weaving
*Have given 'Shape' or 'Creative Outlay' to the poem
*Have made use of many literary devices-alliteration, allusions, imageries, metaphors....
Judged on April 5, 2016
For Casarah Nance's Favourite Poetry
June 19, 2016
For Laura Loo
First Place Only-2
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015