Best Lame Poems
Dear 2024,
I hope this poetic vow
wouldn’t be shunned,
as I block negativity
from my phone,
like my bitter exes.
And forgive my sense
of humor that
resembles sour grapes,
like a dash of salt
and pepper sprinkled
on top of old drapes.
Perhaps, as this
year bids adieu,
I’ll find the right
ingredient to concoct
sparkling wine infused
with giggles that
age like
chucklesome limericks,
as I fine-tune the
empty spaces
of my scribbled
pages with hilarity.
I’ll learn to laugh a
little louder and hope
the ebb of every
comical tale can flow.
Maybe a stricter
chocolate diet would
help me see the
sweeter side of
powdered comedians,
sharpening my wit
as endorphins enhance
my ability to spot
the depth of puns
punctuated
with bizarre tones.
And as December rain
drizzles in symphony
of the darkness
my quill flaunts,
pardon these
peculiar metaphors,
I’ll raise a glass
of crocodile tears,
a toast for
more concise poetry,
and faces I’ve phased,
that I’ll no longer
vent about in vain verses.
Cheers to the
festival lights
on wheel of laughter,
may the florescence
forever flicker as
souvenirs of amusement.
I’ll dance into the
rising sun of a new year,
in an odyssey adorned
with shimmering dreams
embalmed in
tickling mint leaves.
Woodrow's wife is the apple of his eye
But there's been no sex lately and here's why
She told him that he's lame
Every night it's the same
There are other options she wants to try
Trump orders everyone to church
Or Governors will get the birch
Americans will pay
On Memorial Day
With God to blame, Trump ends his search
LAME GOODBYE
‘Twas the night before Christmas,
like all the years that went before
the whole city seemed to throng en masse
in the sparkling Park street drawn by its lure.
In the translucent sky of the congealed night
the stars had all faded away in the glow galore
of the dazzling neons on the walkway bright.
Radiant faces glowed in joy of the night before.
Flowing out of endless stream of jostling crowd
in a bar my friend and I sought out a corner cozy.
Under the spell of flashing lights and music loud
counting the pegs shooting the head wasn’t easy.
Landing on wrong steps while going out elevated
I slipped, tinsel street turned dust, filled my eye.
With the bruised mind and a fractured leg on bed
I painfully bade that Christmas a lame goodbye.
November 27, 2018
Patrick Ewing is Neanderthal, but his wife is pretty yawl.
Neil Cannon face is comical, but Mariah Carey loved him so.
Michael Jordan is crooked teeth and Juanita is petite.
Donald Trump is running for President and so funny in what he represents.
Jeb Bush is so political savvy his teeth sashays.
Mark Anthony and Jay-Lo is an epitome of ethnicity and now divorcees.
Just a critic here trying to make a living.
Tamela Mann king is David Mann, but why is he so weak and his humor never
entertains me.
The Steve Harvey Show on radio is nothing though.
Reverend Marvin Winan got car jacked in Detroit and now he is trying to
revitalize youth to be attack some more.
Hillary Rodham-Clinton fell and knock her brain to a southern hemisphere
thereby becoming cognitive impaired.
Barack Obama states he is not athletic at all, but why is he a cycling kangaroo
–does anyone know?
Dr. Oz is not a wizard a tall.
Just a critic telling the score.
Supreme Court Justice Ginsberg is another political Queen Elizabeth and this is
not a compliment.
Justice Young of Michigan Supreme Court looks like dummy.
Mary J. Blige and Taylor Swift are haters of reality.
Dr. Dre is a Putin made.
Michelle Obama journey will soon sojourn.
Maria Shriver is still in love with Arnold.
A critic that knows from observation.
Lame Jokes!
_______________________________________________|
Written August 28, 2015!
Now pouts the ex-president Trumpty
his turkey-day gravy’s all lumpy
he’s down on his luck
for he’s a lame duck
his a** voters threw in the dumpty
Susan Ashley
November 26, 2020
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Out On A Lim
Sponsor: Joseph May
There once was a dancer who danced himself lame
For a sculpture, he thought was a dame
He turned up his smile
And spoke without guile
Tickled the rhythm and thought it was fame
Silly Billy had no fear, he drowned it in a case of beer.
Handy Andie so adept, kept so busy, she never slept.
Dirty Donna did what you wanna, she lived just down the street.
You didn't have to ask her twice, she was so nice and very sweet.
Hairy Larry all alone, made the women grimace and groan.
Very scary in his approach, girls would crush him like a roach.
Steady Betty, always ready with what ever it took.
Found a way to save the day, be it by hook or crook.
Stan the man does what he can no matter what it takes.
Always appalled by what has happened, then says for goodness sakes.
Gabby Abby giggles and talks with nary a concern.
I wonder if there'll ever be a time she'll ever learn.
Bob the slob wouldn't get a job, he did nothing all day.
He looked a mess, and yes I guess, there's nothing left to say.
Chatty Patty talked so much, she developed lock jaw.
You'd think that that would slow her down, but nah.
Dorky Doug had quite the mug, he looked a little askew.
When he'd greet you on the street, you didn't know what to do.
Nick the stick was very quick, always on the go.
He never walked, he always ran, the word slow, he didn't know.
Guilty Milty quite the guy. He never looked you in the eye.
If you caught him at his game, instead of shame, he'd rather die.
Ditzy Mitzy, not a clue, in her ear, you'd see clear through.
Sandy Sandy, on the beach, the young men she would beseech.
Their young minds she couldn't reach, but that's not what she tried to teach.
Loser Lenny always played, what it cost, he never weighed.
Didn't know when to walk away, should have left, but always stayed.
Pervy Peter made skin crawl, I'm guessing his was pretty small.
You felt like you'd catch a disease, even if he would just sneeze.
Surly Shirley, not too girly, and not very nice.
You can ask her once, a question, but don't ask her twice.
Bendy Wendy in the breeze, did everything down on her knees.
The young boys she'd always please, when they would leer up in the tree's.
Kent the gent, his kindness spent, decided it was time.
To let them know just what he meant, but still did it in rhyme.
Holy Holly, quite contrite, prayed sincerely every night.
Oh, good golly, how she yearned for things to be just right.
In the interest of keeping your interest, I think I'll stop it here.
Like Billy up in the first line, I think I'll have a beer. :)
Non sense, non sense all non sense
Along the way criticism makes no sense
Psalms of encouraging lights
Perish beliefs across entire sites
Your neglect in tones or silence
Cast the angst onto nirvana ballots
Voodoo statements erasing rational fallacies
Was all I hear from value absentees.
System prisoners shooting silent farts
Request the odds to alter non-oscillating stands.
Limerick: Once a Mom Tigress spurned her lame-born cub
for Commandant Cousteau’s son
Once a Mom Tigress spurned her lame-born cub
Wild Life Champ admitted cub to his club
Took cub under his wing
Till she could wildly spring:
Club members now learn to swing the knobbed club.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
LAME BUTTERFLY
I look through the dark where the rockets are soaring,
and go through another bleak Fourth of July,
remembering summer and when it was raining.
Forgetting you is a lame butterfly.
I do not feel cold, nor a warm wind, if blowing,
I've emptied my mind of our seasonal high;
flamingos are dancing sky rockets are bursting,
If I could forget, I'd never know why.
I look to the heavens where your face is smiling,
ten thousands of sparklers have lighted the sky,
I feel your percussion. You go on forever.
Forgetting you is to make love a lie.
The more I forget you the more I remember
sweet smelling of rain on our Fourth of July.
There's got to be somewhere we won't be forbidden
Forgetting you. It's a lame butterfly.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Limerick: An Invasion by the Maimed, Tamed and the Lame
An invasion by the Maimed, Tamed and the Lame
Is still an invasion by any other name
“She stoops to conquer!”
Hearths freeze in fire
Better life for theirs is the name of the game.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
It's befitting to call Trump a 'Lame Duck'
Cares only about himself; what a schmuck!
He won't admit defeat
"I WON," he types in tweet
Shame on him. He ran our country amok!
November 21, 2020 ~ Out on a Lim Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Revoke This Lame Ban Of Soup's Dearest Friend
In speaking her heart , tis not a great sin
revoke this lame ban of Soup's dearest friend.
Who else inspires and welcomes more than she
she that gave great inspiration to me.
Ice water may be cold but she is hot,
she's the exclamation point with the dot
Pull the dagger from her slender, turned back
Your train is racing but its on wrong track.
Pull no red rose up by its tender roots
your bold trumpet now blows mistaken toots
Bring her back and watch the crowd celebrate
show wisdom gained before its too damn late.
Disappoint we sad members with rash move
Why? When your power has nothing to prove!
Robert J. Lindley, 5-04-2016
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 113
Note- Asking nicely in verse.....
Look forward, storm.
Great of location, desolate.
Look toward, shelter.