Best Jell Poems


Possum Juggling

POSSUM JUGGLING  
  Written By the Poets Listed After The Poem.  
  
Possum juggling is a trick conjuring sport.  
You should never do it if your arms are short.  
Nasty teeth are gnashing as they're tossed in air.  
The juggling of possums requires flair.  
Full-grown possum are very massive fellows.
Their bulk when lifted, like handling jell-o.  
They are so at ease as they fly through the trees.  
Are you ever so tall?  Fight them on your knees! 
Though cuddly and soft, please never be smitten.  
Asleep they appear, in a flash you're bitten.  
Upon one look, so UN-cute the ragged claw!  
Surely reminds me of my mother in-law.  
In my compost bin found this fury creature.  
Pointed nose, stinky as my English teacher-  
For that part which sticks out of the can at dark.  
Not a pretty site though pink, duck. It’s a fart!  
Quickly grab his leg and throw him really high 
Let the little blaster soar into the sky! 
Be quick, juggler, Granny Clampett is waiting 
It's possum stew she hopes to be creating 
Wait, I forgot! My arms are too short for this.
Now on my face sprinkles a souring mist.
The moral of this story, surely you see!
Never juggle opossums! Just let them be… 

Contributed Poets (in alphabetical order)  
Charma Chircop, Austin Daver, Carolyn Devonshire,  James Frazer, Robin Gass, James M. 
Goff, Raul Moreno, John Robbins, James Peranteau, Dane Smith-Johnsen,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Jan the Supergirl of Poetry Soup

She is the super girl of poetry soup a cute 
who through her limericks renders us mute 
How can I resist a giggle when she writes 
or helps me to sully my new tights 
She is a lovely presence and I wish her well 
if anyone here objections it won't jell  
We are a site of beauty not one of snooty 
so shake out your pom pom, give a hooty 
Its Christmas a time for love words of essence 
Jan, I'm glad your here and that you got presence 
Lets give the girl a cheer today write a limerick 
for her that is funny one with kick, 

"FANCY SCHMANCY" 
One day I met a fancy schmancy girl named Jan 
and when it came to the funnies, oh how she ran 
like an underwear on fire 
yes, she's the girl for hire 
if you want poop in your underwear then read 
her crunchy lines, she leaves a laughter seed 

                       for all....
xoxoxoxxo 

Dec 10, 2018
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Who First

Who first thought to eat cornbread with chili?
And who first thought to add ketchup to fries -
Who first thought to put that bell in Philly -
And who first thought that yeast could make bread rise?

Who first coupled Abbott with Costello -
And who knew whiskers looked so good on codgers -
Who first added fruit to cherry Jell-O 
And who first paired up Hammerstein with Rodgers?

Who first peanut butter'd up some jelly -
And who first thought to eat breakfast in bed -
Who made that first Reuben in their deli -
And who suggested Ginger dance with Fred?

Who first thought that tea could use some honey -
Who first put together nails and wood?
Fine folks - all; and yes, it may seem funny 
But I should like to meet them if I could.

Now who first put the moon and stars together -
Who put lush green hills under blue skies -
Who made sunshine follow rainy weather -
And who first fashioned beauty for our eyes?

The same One who brought you into my life,
He knew we'd be just right for one another
He knew that we would be husband and wife
Before He formed each of us in our mother.

Great is the One who makes one out of two
Preserving them through sickness, joys, and tears
He knew that you'd need me and I'd need you
I thank Him for our many happy years.

// Dedicated to my beloved bride on our 27th anniversary in 2011 //
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Little Coffee House

Little Coffee House 

It’s the coffee counter line-up
A conveyor belt of people 
Ready for their little treat
A little piece of comfort
From their favorite beanery
I strum as I watch them 
My guitar like an old friend
They should say hello to -
But they never do 
   
Little Coffee House
My band’s playing for you
But what do you do
You just want want want your cups
Your little coffee mugs
So move up to the front

Funky-spiked hair dude
Jokes with the worker
He leans on the counter
(I think that he likes her) 
But people are waiting
And he’s hesitating
So all the shoe tappers  
Start to harass him -
Hurry up and pick one fast

Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just need need need your cups
Your little coffee mugs
And that little coffee buzz  

I look around the room
There’s a girl in a red shirt 
Looking out of the window 
She sips on a latte -
I think she’s an artist
She lays out her sketchbook
But she doesn’t start to draw 
She turns to face the wall –
What are we doing wrong?

We don’t have to be inspiration
But how ‘bout entertainment?
Are we a distraction?
I can’t help but asking 
Are we an invasion 
Of the air?

Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just sip sip sip your cups
Your little coffee mugs
Not listening to us

There’s a man on a laptop
There’s a girl reading Sherlock
There’s a guy on a cell phone
A boy eating Jell-O 
I want them to look up
If they’d look up they’d see us
Are we so bad we should shut up?
Because I feel like we just suck -
I feel like we’re not even here
We’re jamming 
To inattentive ears 

Oh Little Coffee House
I feel I’m at a loss
We’re playing here for you
But what do you do
Your busy coffee mouths
Keep sippin’ till it’s out
If only you’d listen
You’d hear what you’re missin’
We’re not
Just another gig 
Someday, we’ll make it BIG

Sip sip sippin’ cups
Those little coffee mugs
Sip ‘em till they’re out
Little Coffee House
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Lyrical Lines

Words . . . written in brilliant lines

In passionate flamboyant rhymes

In Free verse, Haiku or Pantoum,

Etheree, Quatern, or 7/5 Trochee . . .

It matters not the particular form, 

But inherent quality, don’t you agree?

Long lines, short lines . . . no lines,

Sometimes a pregnant pause . . .

Unveils how less is more in lambent wit.

Lines that capture ones attention,

Honey mellowed, juicy jell-Oed or 

Painfully passionate . . . take your pick!

Lines with utter depth and nuance,

Lines we want to keep near bed.

Keep that blue blood flowing, sowing 

Seeds of thoughts through

Your frazzled, dazzled brain. 

Just one more poem ‘fore I retire . . .

One more line so I can sleep.




*For "Line" Contest Sponsored by: Paula Swanson
art

Red Line

**********************To Beautiful... Forever on my mind**************************


I awake to such pleasantry
her beautiful face once more
I get dressed, grab my keys
and head for the front door
I try to think of anything
to relieve my mind of her
I can't get anything done
my mind is slightly blurred
she has me twisted
it's not like me,
sprung, bewitched
I'm slowly dropping to my knees

For twenty two years 
been friends
For eighteen months
been lovers
I care for her most
there is no-one else
above her

******************************

My pager vibrates
than blares out loud
what a hellacious sound
I recognize the number
her mother is calling me
is it a special occasion?
because for nothing do we agree.
She answers with a sniffle
mumbling incoherently
Beautiful has been shot
in a convenience store robbery

My blood drained quickly,
face turned casper white.
My legs turned to Jell-O
now i've lost my sight
I used whatever strength I had
whatever I could muster
I had to reach the hospital
to tell her that I love her.
Be there when she needs me most
be strong and show no pain.
Hold back my tears,
going against my grain.

By the time I reached her bedside
able to hold her hand.
The doctor said "We've lost her"
" We've done everything we can.."

The Red-Line Sounds....................................................................................................... 
..........:JP)...................


Nothings

"Nothings"
By Rachel Heffington

There's nothing as green as the grass,
And nothing as blue as the sky,
There's nothing as crystal as glass,
Nothing sweeter than warm apple pie!

There's nothing like root beer to drink,
There's nothing like flowers to smell
And nothing like minds that'll think,
Nothing swirlier than a snail shell.

There's nothing like snowfall for white
There's nothing like lemons for yellow,
And nothing like moon for the night,
Nothing wiggles and jiggles like Jell-O.

There's nothing as funny as laughter,
There's nothing so fleeting as time,
There's nothing so final as "after"
And nothing like ending this rhyme.

Premium Member Blue Shadows On White Snow

He was tired of pneumonia, wanted to get out there and play in the snow. In an hour his pals would be trudging up the sledding hill with their sleds. He had been sick too many days; he was tired of Jell-o, and his mother's voice being too empathetic, and apologetic. He played with the frost on the window. Wondering if anyone would notice if he slipped outside? It would not take him long to get to the top of the hill.  Unfortunately, the snow was virginal. If Mom saw the tracks from their house, he would be in big trouble. He noticed for the first time that the tree shadows in the snow were blue. Fascinated, he pushed his nose next to the window, reveling in the icy cold feel of it. 


                                  frosted window pane
                           blue tree shadows on white snow 
                                    my nose is ice cold
Form: Haibun

Public Speaking

Public Speaking


Public speaking made me nervous when I was in school
Getting up in front of class, I always lost my cool
I memorized my speeches and really knew them well
But between my brain and lips, things just didn’t jell

Here are a few examples with embarrassing details
“Saving whales,” I meant to say instead of “waving sails”
And when one wants to talk about “battle ships and cruisers”
His audience will likely laugh at “cattle ships and bruisers”

It shouldn’t be as hard as jumping a high hurdle
To say “hypodermic needle” not “hypodemic nurdle”
And certainly one understands that a “well-oiled bicycle”
Will last a whole lot longer than a “well-boiled icicle”

During school it seemed likely I’d been “wasting two terms”
Still, a whole lot better that “tasting two worms”
So compared to public speaking, writing is the “fun part”
More dignified that expounding on the latest “pun fart”
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Place

I  cannot recall my very first place 
as a baby I did not know my home; 
a new baby's room dressed with pretty lace 
dad's dog was under the crib to watch~roam. 
They say the walls were all painted yellow 
the cute stuffed brown monkey laid beside me; 
monkey and me were tucked in for a nap 
in a room not pink like pretty jell-o. 
My parents would pray for me on one knee, 
then rocked me and brown monkey in their lap. 
 
  
 
My place changed many times along the way, 
as a baby~toddler~child~teen I grow. 
Out the window I saw big clouds of gray, 
I felt this gray~I did not like the move. 
So very hard to have many a friend, 
all this moving is not made for a kid. 
All we do is packing and unpacking, 
it really hurts a kid in the end. 
I love the tall new slide ~ down I did slide, 
what in the world was that crazy cracking. 
 
  
 
My place~bedroom and friends were new again, 
on the pretty curtains were gray kittens; 
all this moving~packing was a huge drain, 
the curtains had gray kittens no mittens. 
This yard was really really big, 
I found three girls in my new neighborhood. 
Four of us would play for hours having fun, 
we loved to put on costumes and wild wigs; 
then climbing up in the pretty dogwood, 
hungry late in the day home we would run. 
 
  
 
Date Written: 4/30/2022 

2 Place  

c. place   

HowManySyllables and Rhymezone 

Form O- Ode- New poems Poetry Contest                                        Sponsored by: Constance La France
Form: Ode

Premium Member My Favorite Color

Over the green circle it sits above;
Under the red circle it shines below;
When the traffic light goes in between
do you speed up or do you go slow?

Mix it with red and you get orange;
Mix it with blue and you get green;
Mix it in the sky on a summer’s day
and it’s the hottest day you have seen.

It’s a caution flag at a NASCAR race;
It’s a warning card in a footballer’s face;
It’s a penalty flag in the USA
thrown on an American football play.

It’s the color of snow you should not eat;
It’s a taxi cab on a New York street;
It’s a six foot eight, Big Bird suit;
It’s the outside of the banana fruit.

It’s a fever that you want to avoid;
It’s a neutral color for a girl or a boy;
It shimmers and shakes as lemon Jell-O
It’s my favorite color – a bright yellow.


written and posted 2/13/14 for Francine Roberts' "Here Comes the Sun" contest.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Winter's Last Gasp, 2

The snow this morning
looks like powdered sugar
sprinkled on lime Jell-O

The grass 
already “greening up”
is lightly dusted
with those powdery flakes
I watched drift down
at 5:00 AM

Yet the sun, rising at 7:00
is laughing at the snow
assuring the daffodils
the crocus and hyacinth
they simply have nothing
to worry about.

At 9:00 AM
The sun’s promise
strikes true.

© cfa 3/27/2015
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.

I Go Where My Feet Take Me

......................................................................................................................................

I love my feet they are the best,
To take me on untraveled paths.
They tramp along with little rest,
Until I’m panting shallow breaths.

Making tracks across the countryside,
They lead the way while I just follow.
Not content with trucks or cars to ride,
They walk until my legs become as Jell-O.

It’s my feet that often guides the way,
And leaves me tired and well expended.
Then, it’s not always nice the words I say,
When the day of rambling trails has ended.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate my feet,
They lead me out in early morning sunrise.
It’s because of them that I and nature meet,
And while they touch the earth, my spirit flies.

......................................................................................................................................
Form: Rhyme

Maurice Glenn Turner and Randy Thompson: Fallen Heroes

Glenn Turner and Randall "Randy" Thompson were the best police officer and volunteer firefighter in all of Cobb County, Georgia, until March 1995 (WWF Monday Night Raw and WWF Wrestle-Mania XI) and January 2001 (Raw Is War, WWF SmackDown!, and the WWF Royal Rumble) when their lives were taken away from their loving families by Julia Lynn Womack: aka the "Black Poisoning Widow." It seems that it was these two guys in uniform who married the same woman, especially when she was after their money, totaling hundreds and thousands of dollars, even in life insurance. Glenn and Randy have been killed by a deadly liquid by the form of Etheline Glycol rich antifreeze; Lynn Turner used it to spike that of lime-flavored gelatin (green Jell-O), sweet iced tea, and chicken noodle soup. Now, how cold-blooded was that? But to be honest, Maurice G. Turner and Randy Thompson, God rest their souls, really never should've met this gold digging assassin named Julia Lynn Womack (who's now dead) to begin with. Their families, their colleagues, and the citizens of Cobb County, Georgia, they still don't understand why the lives of these two men have to end in a tragic manner. They've got a bunch of whole lives ahead of them. But now that Lynn Turner, who killed both her police officer husband and her firefighter boyfriend, is dead, she can't hurt anyone else ever again. Randall and Glenn are no longer with their friends and families (including their moms), but their spirits will live on forever and they'll see their loved ones in heaven one day. And as for Julia Lynn Womack-Turner, she got what was coming to her and may she burn in the giant pit of inferno for all eternity.
Form: Bio

The State of the Kingdom Address Part 3

We need to take a solid stance against,

 The enemies stance to destroy by being in agreement,

With other members of the body of Christ and stick to,

 That for the rest of our lives. We need not to be like Jell-O,

 A semisolid barely saying hello to anyone and giving assistance,

 To them when and where you know that you can. We need,

 Not to be solid on helping Satan destroy all of the plans of,

 God's girls and boys. We need to be liquid in that we have,

 A definite shape of kindness and take the volume of whatever,

 Container God gave us instead of being liquid in saying God,

 Saved us but we cannot take the shape of being in this place.

 We need to be gas and say that in whatever circumstance,

 We will move around energetically and dance together in,

 Praise of our one God in whatever region of space being,

 Familiar or odd instead of diffusing destructive measures,

 Of destruction from areas of high concentration to low,

 Concentration. We need to be like a gas to spread God's, 

Love across every nation of the globe so that the light,

 Of God's love will strobe. And last but not least we need, 

To be at the highest energy state plasma in constantly, 

Battling the enemy with powerful praise and instantly,

 Moving when God says to move to increase the kingdom,

 Of God so that we all we be blessed and we'll have room,

 To hate less and continuously get God's best. Get on board

 So that we can all get God's reward for us right here on

 Earth. Everyone on this planet to God has worth. Get on,

 Board to get God's best. This concludes the state of the

 Kingdom address.


 
Philippians 2:1-11

 Ephesians 4:1-16

 Matthew 6:33

 

1-26-11
Form: Rhyme

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