Best Loafer Poems


Premium Member Slang Men’s Names in Footles- Part 6

He’s always So Behind

Hasten,
Mason

Heavenly Guy

Sky glow
Milo

A Great Guy

Maxwell
acts swell

Sure Not Dickie Nixon

Tricky
Micky

Spoiled Guy

Bratty
Mattie

Why We Follow

Moses
Shows us

Such a Cheerful Fellow

Jaunty
Monty

Hope he Doesn’t want Kids

Sterile
Merrill

The Stoic

Spartan
Martin

He Keeps Them in the Family

Newel’s
Jewels

The King’s Favorite

Jester
Nestor

He’s Just so Tall

Shorten
Norton

Almost got Left off the Ark

Noah’s
Boas

I Have . . .

Faith in
Nathan

The Shrewd One

Heady
Neddy

The guy in Charge

Foreman
Norman

Never Sits Still

Goin’
Owen

Stuck at Home

Snowed in
Odin

A Nobody

Zero
Nero

Put Him on a Diet

Fatty
Paddy

Give Him a Shave Please

Hairy
Parry

Never Finished Med School

Nursie
Percy

Kind of a Loafer

Restin’
Preson

Mr. Popular

Tweeter
Peter

His Magic

Patrick’s
Hat Tricks

Worm Man

Wriggly
Quiggly

Premium Member An Innocent Time I Recall

There's an innocent time that I recall
  when every girl is Cinderella at a bobby-sox ball
each guy, a penny-loafer prince in a white letter sweater
  and the jukebox music keeps getting better

A place where the teens are not overly hip
  where the burn-outs and greasers don't dare give them lip
where 350-engines purr under car hoods
  where heroes are handsome, virtuous and good

The Beach Boys are gone now
  Bobby Vee, Neil Sedaka, Chuck Berry too
Hearing their music brings a tear to my eye
  If I make it to Heaven, I hope they'll drop by

Penny-Posing Loafer

You penny-posing loafer
You’re worn, through and through
Like us, puh-lease say we’re over 
Before I fly-salt your food

You’re worn, through and through
Like the new burn-holes in your pants?
Before I fly-salt your food,
Why not leave as I passively ask?

Like the new burn-holes in your pants,
The gap between us is HUGE
Why not leave as I passively ask?
Walk out in your tack-filled shoes

The gap between us is HUGE
Like us? Puh-lease, say we’re over 
Walk out in your tack-filled shoes
You penny-posing loafer


9/11/12 
(fly-salt: to sprinkle flies like salt onto food; puh-lease: please ennunciated)
For Rhonda & Cyndi's Pantoum Contest


Diet Starts Monday

Time to change myself once more
It's my mantra every Sunday
Be good with food and have less wine
This always starts on Monday

Commence with gentle exercise
And eat a smaller ration
By Tuesday this is going well
I'm full of strength and passion

It's Wednesday I am feeling weak
I want to drink some claret
I tell myself to carry on
So instead I eat a carrot

I put myself to bed that night
Hoping not to suffer
Tomorrow is another day
Of course I'll be much tougher

By Thursday I am back on track
I'm feeling rather dandy
I force myself to eat less snacks
And have a little brandy

By Friday it is getting tough
I'm feeling so much weaker
I pour a glass of cold crisp wine
And then fill another beaker

Come Saturday I am off the plan
I've gelled into my sofa
I fill my face with tasty treats
And turn in to a loafer

The sabbath day I carry on
I may as well keep eating 
Hereafter I will start again
And do it without cheating
© Ruth Brown  Create an image from this poem.

Excuses-2

Excuses

…..And spewing them forth 
The  inveterate loafer
Enjoys himself,  while
The decent one feels squeamish
Even  when he’s justified.

9th Jan 13
S.Jagathsimhan Nair
For Susan’s ‘Excuses’

Ambiguous Love

I   danced   around the circle how graceless i am
The tones i used to sing was no longer mine
Food id like to eat turned bitter in time
I looked at the mirror the face is not mine

How cruel the world so clueless no sign
Pieces by pieces will i ever redesign
I feign day by day that everything is fine
Love i once held was now undefined

The tramp, loafer, bummer all in  one
Whatever you call the name is one sound
Pond of lust and laughter and fun
You may win the game but your cloud has no sun

My eyes are bleeding in pain and on fire
Indomitable anger so hard to respire
Look at me now how you made me desire
Exhausted, berated, Please condole by my side


Conundrum

Ahhhh...they make me so mad:
A fool, a buffoon, an unruly lad,
A prankster, a trickster, a tattler,
A gigolo, a lounger and an idler;

An impostor, a pretender and a loafer,
A party crasher, a tailgater and a golfer,
A boondoggle or a task of a tall order,
And the deals done under-the-counter.

I often tear my hair out at a silly pun
Or at a smart aleck who can outrun,
A hoax or a scam drives me crazy
that is absurd, witless or sleazy.

But look into my eyes lovingly
And whisper sweet nothing softly,
Hold my hands and be pretty sexy,
And oh...Man, I'll just go crazy!


I'm so annoyed contest by Mary Oliver Rotman

Premium Member Life Could Not Be Better

You came into our lives a spark.
A blur of chestnut red, 
Igniting us with canine love,
And nestling by our bed. 

Chasing swallows in the park 
That teased you in their flight, 
Relentlessly you chase them still. 
In the fading springtime light.

Every time I make the tea, 
Teaspoon clinking in the mug,
I feel your paw around my leg 
captive  of the setter hug.

I take you into work sometimes
But you’re not  always compliant.
Nudging my elbow with your muzzle
Sniffing each and every client. 

When, bleary eyed, I rise each day
A drum beat from the sofa 
Peaks as I descend the stairs,
From our dishevelled, four legged, loafer. 

With head bowed low, the “trophy trot”
Announced my kitchen blunder.
I’d left the butter on the bench 
A prize you had to plunder ! 

On our summer twilight walks                           
You stand and raise your paw,
If dawdling rabbits dare to stray,
Gun dog rising to the fore.. 

Sometimes I have to leave you
Shut the door, put on the sneck.
I glimpse those brown eyes widen 
Just like “Puss in Boots” from Shrek ! 

You  have a penchant for my socks 
They disappear most every day,
I’d love to wear a matching pair 
But you have stashed  them all away. 

On lazy Sunday afternoons 
Lying peacefully asleep,
The noise of next doors wheelie bin
Soon pulls you from the deep

Then with scamp and scatter
Scrambling to the patio door, 
Take your position by the fence
Bark  like you’ve never barked before !

I never would have walked the miles
Seen the seasons come and go,
On every walk, see natures wealth,
Red gold sunsets fading, glow…..

You are always at my side 
I know life could not be better. 
A bond so precious and secure,
I am blessed to own a setter.

Copyright © Mike Miller

Grand Mal Seizure

big Yawn Productions presents
the daytime drama Living Therapeutically
as others live randomly or habitually
you'll need a supply of 3-D glasses
and I know just the guy
a trailer park Samuel Becket
cheeks rosy like Mr. Stalin
sitting atop the dustbin of history
a loafer researching activity
with plenty of typos under his airbrush
did we mention the amnesia
mind like a document shredder
but as the italicized print will indicate
Big Yawn will take you back to a time when
we used fact to be stupid with
we were trained and armed to the arm pits
for the great battle between
the grunting instincts of ownership 
and the suicidal embrace of empaths
cadavers of man and animal everywhere
though the limbless victims of the empaths
were more carefully arranged in rows
we had to take sides to survive
galley slaves of the world unite
oh yeah you're already united
chained to your oars and all
well then don't let the trolley 
to the asylum leave without you 
the inmates are management again
I banged my cage door for an eternity
Tex Lester the cowboy yodeler 
came to my rescue somewhat
Tex once played 8 ball with the Devil
had to let the Devil win of course
swear to God for what it's worth
municipal records will prove my case
they have been weaving the world together 
for over a thousand murky generations
starting from the premise 
that life is an unbridled miracle
yes logic is anti-coercive
or is it vice versa where are my bifocals
one tends to go in the direction he's looking
intention being a common denominator
of some influence
Samuel's DOA toe tag read 
tried to die with a smile on his lips
left only a cartoon grimace
had it most of his life
so it was hard to tell 
if he was actually dead


From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/

Premium Member A Conversation With the Three Stooges

I Am: Hello guys it’s an honor, fellows

Moe:  HELLO! 
Larry: HELLO!
Curly: HELLO!  
The Three Stooges:  HELLOS!

I Am:  You’re known as half-wits, birdbrains, knuckleheads, 
           Curly, you’re known as Porky pine, right?  
           As a little girl I never appreciated rough-housing humor.  
           Moe a mean man and you weren’t very bright
           I did adore Curly with sisterly affection.

Curly:  You ain’t half bad yourself toots! With my reclamation
Moe:    Remind me to kill you later, hmm, maybe strangulation
Curly:  OK, I’ll make a note of it! Can’t make me worry
Larry:  Stick up for yourself Curly!
Moe:    Yeah, what do you have to say?
Curly:   Well, I oughta—tell ya another day
Moe:    You oughta what? Have some finess
Curly:   I oughta mind my own business
Moe:    That’s better!  Porky Pine

I Am:  Moe, would you take another question of mine?

Moe:   Yeah, make it snappy, 
Larry: Moe’s always been too slap happy
I AM:  Were you at one time called Ted Healy’s Racketeers?
Moe:  The Southern Gent’s, knucklehead! Like the Three Musketeers

I Am:  Your genres are farce, slapstick, musical comedy
          Curly is the schlemiel—stupid, childish, and clumsy. 
          Larry is the schlimazel because he's not quite as stupid
          but still ends up unlucky with cupid. 
          Moe, are you the aggressive and short-tempered leader of you three?

Curly:  Why coitainly
Moe:   The lady, you imbecile, is talking to me, 
Curly:  Hey, I resemble that remark!
Curly:  Hey Moe, I can’t see! I can’t see!
Moe:    Why’s that? Is it too dark? 
Curly:  ‘Cuz I have my eyes closed! 
Moe:    Wait’ll I punch you in the nose!

I Am:  My best Three Stooges episodes were—Brideless Groom,
          Disorder in the Court, Malice in the Palace, Sing a Song of Six Pants, 
          and Heavenly Daze

Larry: That’s five. Miss I Am are you in a haze?
Moe:   Yeah Genius!  

I Am:  Thank you for your calculation, I quess
I Am:  Do any one of you have a real job anywhere?

Curly:  Why coitainly, I just got a job in a bakery
Moe:    You never told me that numskull.  What do you do there?
Curly:  I’m a loafer!
Larry:  That’s not surprising, and tell her you were a chauffer

I Am:  Goodnight “Three Stooges” Love and Luck

Curly:  Asta! NYUK! NYUK! NYUK!
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Footles

Couch Potato

Sofa
loafer


Tummy Rumble

A snack
attack

Soft drink shortage

Soda
hoarder


Dated: 8/19/14

Vanity and Vexation

Ahhhhhh.... they make me so mad!
A fool, a buffoon, an unruly lad,
A prankster, a trickster, a tattler,
A gigolo, a lounger and an idler;

An imposter, a pretender and a loafer,
A party crasher, a tailgater and a golfer,
A boondoggle or a task of a tall order, 
And the deals done under-the-counter!

I often tear my hair out at a silly pun
or at a smart aleck who can out-run,
A hoax or a scam drives me crazy
which is absurd, witless or sleazy. 

But look into my eyes lovingly
and whisper sweet nothing softly,
Hold my hands and be pretty sexy
And oh ... Man, I’ll just go crazy!


~"What Annoys You?" contest by Frank Herrera.

Love

LOVE IS NEITHER BAD NOR GOOD.
IT IS AN EXPERIENCE,
WHICH WE ALL CHERISH WHEN IT LASTS.
IT TEACHES US THE 
MEANING OF LIFE,
PURPOSE OF LIFE,
RESPONSIBILITIES IN LIFE.
IT IS A GIFT THAT MAKES
THE BLIND SEE,
THE DEAF HEAR,
THE DUMB SPEAK.
IT HAS THE POWER TO TRANSFORM
A LOAFER INTO  A RESPONSIBLE MAN.
TRUE LOVE WHEN IT EXISTS 
IS REALLY A EXPERIENCE TO  CHERISH.

Crosses In My Eyes

A land full of plenty ,yet they suffer,
Which makes me confused like naughty loafer,
Children battling with hunger makes me cry,
While few wild baboons suck the nation dry.
	
They travel to foreign lands to lavish
the nation’s wealth,which makes them look foolish,
while honest and good ones labor in vain,
the gluttons feed their bellies with much gain.

Dishonesty of souls add to this sadness,
When would the deeds of men bring me gladness?,
Ants and bees swim in betrayal without a fine,
Hatred and greed rejoice with a glass of wine.

Injustice coated with love and passion,
Stealing and deceit are now real fashion,
As my heart tinges for a cure at last,
Pain and poverty linger like in the past.

Laceless Shoes

When I was a kid of maybe six
And I put on my favorite kicks
I had a problem a kid faces
I couldn’t tie my own shoelaces
And with four kids, Mom’s precious time
Could not all be spent on mine
She had to find another way
To keep me in my shoes each day
And tennis shoes were not allowed
In a Catholic school crowd
So shoes for school and Sunday best
Had to pass Mom’s laceless test
A penny loafer wouldn’t fit
I’d walk and slip right out of it
Elastic laces she couldn’t get
And Velcro’s not invented yet
She searched and found this shoe with tongue
That opened like a spring was sprung
And once you slipped your foot inside
Unsprung the tongue – you’re good as tied
And I didn’t have a handicap
When I took off my shoes to nap
I just had to flip that flap
Slip in my foot – close with a snap
I thought my gadget shoes “the bomb”
And I never had to bother mom
I wonder if they make these still
For little boys who lack the skill
Who every morning he still faces
Fumbling with his long shoe laces
Or could a guy like me get rich
Reinventing for this niche
And saving Mom’s their precious time
Like these shoes once did for mine
Mdailey	6/20/11

You probably have to be a man of at least 60 years old to remember these shoes.  
They were black leather with a wide flat tongue that was hinged at the toe like the 
hood of a 60? XKE ( my dream car as a teen).  There was a spring of some sort at 
that hinge so that when the tongue was lowered, the shoe was tight.

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