Best Knobbly Poems
One day I saw an alligator,
He said, "May I take a bite?
Your fingers look real juicy
And your legs will fill my appetite."
I said, "No way Al baby,
My fingers are so handy,
My legs I need for walking
In your swamp where it's so sandy."
I said, "What about you alligator,
Can you do without your skin?
You see I want an alligator bag
To put my school things in."
He said, "You must be joking
My skin's a very vital part,
It keeps the mossies and the snakes
From acting far too smart."
After that we were good friends,
Sometimes around the swamp I ride,
Although my seat is very knobbly
Al makes a great swamp guide.
-more poems like this can be found at:
kidscomedypoetry.com.au
Categories:
knobbly, children, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
DEFORESTATION
~~
Topical Tree Poetry
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Deforestation rife!
From copse to woodlands
And trees on their own suffer the knife!
Deforestation rife!
Rainforest to jungles,
Arboretums to parklands suffering strife
Deforestation rife!
There is suffering unseen.
To all macro, micro, wildlife.
Deforestation rife!
The whole world pays,
yes you, if you're married your wife.
Deforestation rife!
Nothing is safe, trees breathe for the world.
Time we all stopped living a trife life.
Deforestation rife!
Life now desperate, let's stop the felling.
Make living our plight
log
fell
chop
copse
logged
chopped
afforestation
deforestation
greening
~~~~~~~~~
'Topical Tree Poetry: Defined'
A new form of poetry invented by me, (Mick E Talbot), utilising, the 'shape' poetry format overall, (in this instant the 'Concrete' form as the word tree is referred to in the poem). Using the 'snowball' poetry form for the trunk, and any form that makes for a good canopy. The subject material must be "topical", ie, trending, current, historical, events.
The format: The canopy; any form of poetry, 1 stanza, no restraint on the number of lines. Lines not to exceed 12 syllables.
The 'trunk'; a form referred to as a snowball. It starts with the smallest word alluding to the topic, then using synonyms increase in size by 1* letter, ending in an antonym, refer to my example poem. The whole must be centered.
* Try to make the trunk branchless, the odd knobbly bump or hole not a problem. (The latter will happen at times).You can by hitting the space bar make the branch/es, hole/s appear on one side of the trunk, Or the other, just an afterthought ;-) Mick
Categories:
knobbly, nature, pollution,
Form:
.
My dear miss Camella, you move with such grace,
And your lips are so sweet, flies swarm round your face
When you first smiled at me, i foolishly grinned.
Then you puffed out both cheeks, and loudly broke wind.
Like a ship of the desert, with a camel hair coat.
Just letting off steam, with a double bass note.
It was love at first sight, despite all of my spots.
For the touch of my leopard skin, gave you the hots.
I love how you swagger, on oversize feet.
While those knobbly knees, makes my heart skip a beat.
Or the way that you squint, with a glint in your eyes.
When you spit from ten paces, and pick off sand flies.
Well now i must tell you, i'm going to propose,
If you will say yes, and wear my ring through your nose.
We could be a couple, and create our own kid.
While it would be unique, to raise a goofy hybrid.
I'm sure that we could, if we tried very hard.
Well, whoever has heard of a camelopard.
Please don't take the hump, i'm not having a laugh.
But maybe our baby, could be a giraffe.
So my dearest Camella, please make me your beau.
I am yours, ever faithful, your handsome Leo.
11/ 5/ 2017.
If it is of interest to anyone, a camelopard is an archaic
word for a giraffe.
Categories:
knobbly, funny love, nonsense,
Form:
Couplet
On some English grass
On a piece of land forever England
Warriors of the realm
Take holy orders, on their Fathers grave
To defend the honour of their local pub
For this is the noble art of Sunday league Football
The crowds bay for blood
Shouts of foul and blind as a bat
The decision absurd
The referee a drunkard
Shouts of bar steward,
And your mothers questionable character
Cleaned up for posterity
The game goes on
Frank, the winger another yellow card
Another fine, I fear he will be barred
Groans for Bill a night watchman by trade
I think he’s a blade (Sheffield United supporter)
But not a very good keeper I’m afraid
Then there’s the striker
Super king Jack, 40 a day and a cough to match
Will need a penalty to score in this match
What about ken, a beer belly full back,
Rarely runs for fear of a heart attack
And slugger the centre half
Likes to break legs,
And still the only guy to sup a half a keg
Smooth talking tommy pulls birds on the six yard line
Greased black hair, and knobbly knees to match
Still Skill is not this team’s forte, for we are Britain’s
Taking part is our religion
Lost another game two nil
But won three two at fighting, brill
Bottom of the league
Fines galore
First Aid in the pub
A good drink after
Enemies in the field, but forever friends in laughter.
That’s Sunday football league
Home to the wife
And Sunday dinner, roast beef and Yorkshire pud
Another bottle of bud
Feet up, settee calls
Dreams of Wembley, and Sheffield Wednesday
Not a bad life for this Yorkshire clan
Here in Sheffield where football began.
Categories:
knobbly, friendship, funny, sports, fear,
Form:
Free verse
There was once a woman
who lived on Sheffield's London road
with greasy unwashed hair
black crooked teeth
and huge wart on the end of her nose.
Her eyes were wild and staring
she had rickets and fleas
had hairy legs and knobbly knees
She stank like a million skunks
she hadn't a bath for 12 years and a month.
Her name is Vera Cooper
She could drink any man under the table
and swore like a trooper.
She once won a beauty contest
when she fell into a ugly bugs nest
she had a tattoo of a sewer rat on one breast.
People would run away
whenever she was in town
but the flies would follow her around.
But you know what?
She had a great personality
was so kind and caring
and gave lots to charity.
We fell in love and raised a family
we're very happy together
and so in love
and go together
like a hand in a glove
She's my angel.
''Well they do say it's personality that counts don't they?.''
Peter Dome.copyright.2014.
Categories:
knobbly, funny, funny love, giggle,
Form:
Free verse
Each night I fall awake
a good days sleep before I wake down
I'll pretend and make the smile
upright into to a frown
You ask and I'll get down for you
and stand perfectly wobbly
Meet you on the shore with the sand
so smooth and knobbly
Categories:
knobbly,
Form:
Hairy Mary, really scary
Hairs grow from her nose
Some sprout from her pointy ears
And in between her toes
She's got hair on her fingers
and her one remaining thumb
I can't confirm the rumour
That she's got a hairy bum
A hair grows from the mole
That is sprouting from her chin
Her wicked eyes are purple
And her nose is bent and thin
She said some funny words to me
when I was just a boy
And waved a knobbly stick
Like it was some magician's toy
She said that she was turning me
Into a slimy frog
I told her she was bonkers
And I'd rather be a dog
For witches live in fiction
But my theory has a glitch
I called her lots of names
And then my skin began to itch
I said she was a daft old bat
She didn't get the joke
And now I find it hard to speak
But easier to...
CROAK!!!
Categories:
knobbly, funny, halloween, scary,
Form:
Rhyme
NATURE’S SINGLE DADS:
THE AUSTRALIAN EMU
The next sixteen months:
CRR-ACK ~ “That’s loud,” he exclaims getting up on his legs, so knobbly and thin.
He looks down to the ground,
where he first heard the sound,
and says, “Now it’s your turn to begin.”
Hours go by, as each little chick tries to break free of its protective cover.
They all work their way,
throughout the long day,
then all greet their father-come-mother.
For his new family he breaks the last shell. To his fluffy striped chicks, he’s their mother.
As they grow older under Dad’s shoulder
he will nurture, each sister and brother.
In time, they will leave his home on the dance floor; a single dad, with chicks he will roam.
With high steps he will prance.
They will learn every dance
for survival, before he goes home.
With the changing seasons, Emund finds reasons to leave his young chicks on their own
Others join with his brood
now there’s plenty of food,
Emund turns and again, he’s alone.
Not taking the chance of being late for the dance Emund picks up his speed on the track.
They won’t meet at his gate
if he gets home too late
to dance to the rhythms of the outback.
The Australian Emu; one of Natures' Single Dads worthy of a mention for the survival of the species in the extremes of the outback.
Categories:
knobbly, caregiving, dance, dedication, family,
Form:
Rhyme
TAKE THE BUTTERFLY
Take the butterfly is what Mark likes to call a surrealist word painting
---
“Halt, who goes there?”
I said to myself out loud, and then I answered me in a soft loud slow dulcet tone type
style of voice and said.
“Who goes were?”
I surprised myself, as I was sure that I was the only one there.
“Do you want to ride my bike?
And
“Have you ever tried treading grapes while juggling?”
So surprised was I that I made my mind up there and then Never to buy those knobbly bits
That taste of flat square circles ever again.
Why does my left hand keep coming up and smacking me in the gob?
Still it’s dark outside and that’s the best place for the night to be.
So I sat very still while trying to balance on a moonbeam, and asked everyone I passed,
why are their feet going in opposite directions to themselves?
And why is my head on your body?
Wow what a night, still its early days but I think I have the answer,
Take the butterfly.
Take the Butterfly
A surrealist word painting Original work 1991
Categories:
knobbly, me,
Form:
Opening bottles
Men can
Women can't
Not always anyway.
Some women
Have men's hands
Knobbly and strong
Take my late mother-in-law
Hands good for
Wringing heavy washing
Lifting pints of Guinness too!
Me, useless, needing a man
If only to open my bottles.
Categories:
knobbly, allegory, life, metaphor,
Form:
Light Verse
I just found out about my knees.
You know those thingies, if you please,
those knobbly bits which no one sees;
the ones you bend, when on your skis.
It happened when, and quite by chance,
it hit me, on our trip to France.
A stabbing pain, a pointed lance;
they went - when I got up to dance.
And this was not, as you may think,
the aftermath from too much drink.
One moment fine and in the pink,
and then the next, you gently sink.
Oh no. I’m standing like a block;
a rigid stance, tight as a lock.
I have to say, it’s quite a shock!
I hope you will not stare - and mock.
~
For Black Eye Susan's Contest.
Categories:
knobbly, age, dance,
Form:
Verse
Horrendous Fruit
“Ah my eyes!” the acid sprays,
From the knobbly whorled display,
Of the thickened orange skin,
Pith and citric acid akin.
I take a bite of segmented fruit,
Cells explode and sour does too,
My eyes fall closed, My faces is scrunched,
As on the awful food I munch.
“One piece down!” I say with a sigh,
Surely this is how I die,
Biting on this horrid meat,
This one, I say, its got me beat.
As more skin I peel away,
That lovely orange like break of day,
Reveals itself with a suckling rip,
Where 'low the membrane lies a pip.
I steel myself and put it in,
Tastebuds protest a horrendous din,
Again and again my teeth crunch round,
Until, finally, the monster is down.
I hate the fruit, the way it grows,
Two are gone, too many to go,
A sway, on a tree, in the wind,
I pick when ripe, the stalk is thin.
But back to this horror, I want no more,
Tears of frustration begin to pour,
Thats it, I refuse to eat more, none.
With this fruit, I am done.
Categories:
knobbly, fruit,
Form:
Rhyme
DUST DEVILS
-
Topical Tree Poetry
~~~~~~~~~~
//\\
the African plains
once lush... verdant... living
dust devils now reign
[[[]]]
in the jungle
the sightly found a living
all the jungles... gone...
[[[]]]
dust devils thriving
anhydrous ere the dew drops
beetles salvation
[[[]]]
nature provides
many niches... dew drops... life
the early birds drink
dry
arid
dried
desert
barren
drought
desolate
torrefied
dehydrated
wet
~~~~~
'Topical Tree Poetry: Defined:'
A new form of poetry invented by me, (Mick E Talbot), utilising, the 'shape' poetry format overall. Using the 'snowball' poetry form for the trunk, and any form that makes for a good canopy. The subject material must be "topical", ie, trending, current, historical, events.
The format: The canopy; any form of poetry, 1 stanza, no restraint on the number of lines. Lines not to exceed 12 syllables.
The 'trunk'; a form referred to as a snowball. It starts with the smallest word alluding to the topic, then using synonyms increase in size by 1* letter, ending in an antonym, refer to my example poem. The whole must be centered.
* Try to make the trunk branchless, the odd knobbly bump or hole not a problem. (The latter will happen at times).You can by hitting the space bar make the branch/es, hole/s appear on one side of the trunk, Or the other, just an afterthought ;-) Mick
#dust #devil
Categories:
knobbly, nature,
Form:
THE JOY OF LIFE
SNOWBALLING
~~~~~~~~~~
the joy of life
snowballing
I've tried and tried to entice
belief in that all snowballs end up thawing
the joy of life
is quickly going to disappear
I've tried and tried to entice
belief in our need for fresh air
the joy of life
is hanging by a thread
I've tried and tried to entice
to do what's right before we all end up dead
the joy of life
why can't the human race understand
I've tried and tried to entice
that what we are doing isn't grand
the joy of life
what will it take to convince
I've tried and tried to entice
nigh too late my face crinkled with a wince
the joy of life
we were warned, now all gone
I've tried and tried to entice
could this be our swansong
joy
glad
mirth
joking
smiling
laughing
happiness
fulfilment
pleasurable
enjoyability
deliciousness
accomplishment
death
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'The Topical Tree'
A new form of poetry just invented by me, utilising, the 'shape' poetry format overall, with the 'snowball' poetry form for the trunk, and any form that makes for a good canopy. The subject material must be "topical", ie, trending, current, historical, events.
The format: The canopy; any form of poetry, 1 stanza, no restraint on the number of lines. Lines not to exceed 12 syllables.
The 'trunk'; a form referred to as a snowball. It starts with the smallest word alluding to the topic, then using synonyms increase in size by 1* letter, ending in an antonym, refer to my example poem. The whole must be centered.
* Try to make the trunk branchless, the odd knobbly bump or hole not a problem. (The latter will happen at times).You can by hitting the space bar make the branch/es, hole/s appear on one side of the trunk, Or the other, just an afterthought ;-) Mick
Categories:
knobbly, humanity, life,
Form:
Horse catcher I said she looks down at me don't you mean wrangler said she, but then quick as a flash I'm back at that bloody track down at the start waiting for all to load almost all done then one throws its midget and runs, off in the pickup I leap to go corner the big black beast
and there we are with me breathing deep I have him corralled of sorts cutting down the angles closer I creep, then I see the twinkle in his eye
I've got no protection for my head or knobbly knees and he fancies his chance of running through me, back in the stand with the delay all eyes are watching the big screen with glee.
Then round the corner walks his lass and makes me look a silly ass, for off he trots head held high snorts in my direction as if to say did you see what he did to me, so my dear I prefer my steed to be made of metal and come with a key.
Categories:
knobbly, horse, strength, work,
Form:
Free verse