Best Loos Poems
I bought Trumps book of poems, yes it's true
And I really think you should get one too
Because you just don't know
When tissue stocks get low
So, keep a copy of it in your loo...
Trump sent kamala his poetry book
Said she'll have plenty time to take a look
Her wonky Kitchen table
Is now quite firm and stable
Kamala was pleased it no longer shook...
Tom Cunningham
If I’m ever gifted soup’s book
I wouldn’t even take a look
I’d rip out poems by “Trump”
For use after I dump
The theme is pure gobbledygook...
Jan Allison
I'd use Trump's pages to wipe my hiney
And keep my toilet bowl quite shiny
Not a word would I read
About his need for greed
He's not a poet; he's too whiney...
Lin Lane
Trump's new book of poems is a farce
He can't write a poem from his a r s e
Fake poems galore
Are all just a bore
His poetry book fans will be sparse...
Tania Kitchin
Donald Trump is down and singing the blues
Seeing his poetry going down loos
The thought of success
Had gone to his head
Now his ego is definitely bruised...
Beryl Edmonds
Written by Trump’s own hand
Is a fairytale about finance
His poetry book
For crooks to cook
Up a USA scammer plan...
Karen Jones
Donald Trump is now the new boss,
Those Demo-Craps are paying the cost,
Trump stuck to his guns,
And finally won,
Fake news spread by the media lost.
John Read
Matchstick Bikes
To tinkers and toilers
I salute,
From mending boilers
to weaving jute,
Man and boy
for generations,
I will unemploy
your occupations.
To brewers in sheds
I sink a few beers
To wet the heads
of our engineers,
From flat cloth caps
to matchstick men,
I will see the collapse
of pushers of pens.
To bakers, tailors
I wish you well,
To the soldiers and sailors
who fought and fell,
From doctors, nurses
to hobnail boots,
I will give your purses
to thieves in suits.
To the grieving docks
I drink a toast,
To tackle and blocks
and shipyard ghosts,
From warehouses, workshops
to fishing trawls,
I will flick my mop
in empty halls.
To union dues
I shake your hand,
To cleaning loos
and farming land,
From railway gauges
to industry,
I will turn the pages
of history.
To factory lines
I raise my glass,
'Neath abandoned mines
of times now past,
From overtime
to austerity,
I will frame the grime
for posterity.
To the silent mills
I tip my hat,
To what ever ills
and this and that,
From a steelworks spew
to a builders hole,
I will stand in a queue
to draw my dole.
To finance, the city
I bow in awe,
To show no pity,
to flout the law,
From sellers, buyers
to pickets and strikes
I will slash the tyres
of your matchstick bikes.
© RJVHorton2016
Fantasy 2-22-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Parade
At midnight dawn my mind escapes parting the stars
Making my way to a summerland torchlight parade
Where grand marshals of zebra fish
Lead the festival from fiery snow drifts of spun clouds
Making way for tunes and flourishes of the flugel zoots
Dressed in braided gold, sounds of silver reeds giggling om-pahs,
Followed by perfect lines of elephins holding hot air hippos
Rows and rows of dolphettes ride on one horned steads
As whirling woodles swish their skirts to drumline mango tangos
From silver floats rosemaids royal wave to gaping galaxies
As crickethoppers dance the wooly wozzle by the Doodle Loos!
And porpi pass in waves of burnished summersaults
Comet twirlers shout “Hooray!” and clap their stony hands,
Snarfish teeter on the invisible between starstruck novas
Then tap dance in steps of dipsy doodles for eleven moons
Red giants snoozle riding quadra pogo stickes
And throw tickertape confetti – sounding the curly noodles curfew –
Remembering how to hold the magic as this homecoming parade ends
Tap dancing into the horizon's shadow as this long day’s night passes by -
And masquerades of new moons wane in tipsy oodles!
Disco dreams and disco balls
Big city,bright lights
Pub crawls and bar fights.
Mini frocks and hair dyes
Made up faces
Mascara filled eyes.
Vodka martinis and champagne
Bus trips and black cabs
Standing in the rain.
Nightclubs and deejays
Entry stamps on wrists
And tattooed fists.
Late nights and hangovers
Fast cars and kebabs
White wine spritzers
And mishaps.
One night stands and live bands
Autographs and queues
Sing-a-longs and sad songs
And over packed loos.
One line gags and handbags
Glitter and sparkling eyes
Cigarettes and suffragettes
Gossip and lies.
Brawls,another one falls
Drunks and punks
Frilly skirts and love hurts
And late rides.
Secret kisses and front row seats
Cinema aisles
Red lipped smiles
Beauties and beasts.
Flashy cars and night time stars
Takeaways and glad rags
Silly jokes and whiskey cokes
Dreams and high hopes.
Nights out and walkabouts
Cheap thrills and teenage wonder
Hitch hikes and motorbikes
Delinquent lightning and thunder.
A spirit of dreams
I haunt subconscious
wells. Alone in the vast,
unconscious realm of man's dreams,
I heal. Mistily, floating in moonbeams
I spell love and truth.
These are my essence and dimension,
no intervention. My dust reveals all.
Down the twisting spiral
of minds I go, touching each chamber
of mood. Nightly, embedding crystals of hope,
I span eternally good.
My hair holds the fragrance
of all the worlds’ flowers,
my breath is the mist of miracles.
My voice pleads to soldiers in battle.
My grief fills earth's oceans with tears.
I am the comfort of mothers.
I am the keeper of fears.
Infinity cannot contain me,
for, I am the Messenger of Peace.
Written October 1999
116 words
For Laura Loos Free Verse in 150 or less words
Dummying Up
by Odin Roark
Once mannequins rocked.
Utilitarian heroes propped up
Behind steering wheels,
Windows,
Doors,
Even beside display animals.
Such were the iron-hearted
Of atomic testing ground history.
Today, Saks 5th Ave windows
With their sophisticated still-life-reality,
Serve the well-to-do shoppers,
The not so well-to-do looky-loos,
And of course, the anything-will-do bag ladies.
In Washington there resides flesh and blood versions,
Animatronic wonders,
Their brain circuitry void of action voltage,
Their suits, ties, tans
Makeup, coifs and dresses
Never askew.
Yet…
These elected reps continue more immobile
Than their lauded ancestry,
Those once sacrificial creations of purpose,
Now but a desert’s dwindling radio active dust.
Yes…
Dummying up has come a long way
To its glorification as our US Congress,
Where nonsense requires one dummy-up opener
So “I’ll see that and raise your wealthy-class
Pandering with five more tax cuts.”
At which point, they break for another fund raising junket.
Unfortunately…
The game will pick up where it left off on their return,
A mannequin mentality becoming more and more inflexible.
I remember last sighs,
breath of finally done,
as smiling then he dies,
just more of Grampie's fun.
I saw his side serious,
once or twice without a smile,
he must have been delirious,
malarial warring while.
He spoke of Burma once or twice,
his army days his favorite joke,
his eyes would drift to ancient fire,
something of youth lost in the smoke.
Grampie in the vegetables,
sweat Indian arm tattoo's,
the poacher and the constable,
woodland outhouse loos.
He told me and my Brother,
of all the good old days,
looking forward to another,
giving the same with all he says.
Pot bellied bearded bull like Buddha,
Samson strength neath thin white hair,
miss shoveled dirt Jack Russell shudder,
even now I'm sometimes there.
He'd sneak treats from Affie's larder,
chuckling as we fed his Birds and Beasts,
I remember his weight across my shoulder,
just before the final feast.
Some men worry ways through life,
some men dwell on tragedy,
some men impart only their strife,
happiness is Grampie's legacy.
Laughter was his daily bread,
his smile came from the sun,
it still shines now he's dead,
just more of Grampie's fun.
©D.N. Read 2013
Affie is the name we called my granny by.
"Somewhere over the rainbow we'll play", is baby Ella's clarion call,
Doting Aunt agrees and starts with La Ti Do Re Mi Fa Sol,
Tiny fingers move, full of questions, curiosity, in her wonderland small ,
Busy get the twosome, a session filled with love and music all,
Magnum opus of the duette is soon due to enthrall.
Contest - Personal Memories
Sponsor - Laura Loo
Date- 25/03/2016
Picture #2
re-enter for -Best of LAURA Loos
15/09/2016.
This is my final draft, will not be writing ever after
Eventually, you will depart, leaving me at the alter
I could but rarely speak to you for a while
I cannot bare it, i am left with a joker smile
I beseech you my lady to grant me amnesty
Dont befall you wrath upon I, grant me immunity
I have but words from you written hither and thither
I'm trying to make out something, for you to be better
I know we spoke little, our path may never again cross
I'm bound to curse, never seeing, knowing my loos
Life gathered us, and by life we should apart
It was never meant to happen, was never a start
Rain and only rain shall mourn the remains of my memory
Though you are in pain, I to exist no more if necessary
Many a warrior came charging up the hill
Drawing their swords and spears, driven by their own will
The shadows over hill shall grievingly foretell
The glorious event of battle, the sound, the smell
A tale of valor and sacrifice
Screening and whispering to death entice
Rattle a chain unleashing beasts on the field
The will-driven fellows embraced their enemy's dreadful deed
Blood immensely shed, dust aroused, scent of death filled the air
No feeling, no loos, for a battle fought out of despair
Flap thi wings Angels os Dark
For the fault of he whom ignited the spark
Homeland fragile, for peace they strive
A king of no land, against which, contrive
A. Dead citizen, one wounded, another to shriek
All about top fade away by the river side streak
Strike upon opponent, make the land throng
Leash thi anger, imply wit, and be strong
Many a men claimed quotes of some strange
All in all left behind, keep out of range
Fear no more death, nor life, witness genocide
Of which the king's to: ladies, children and even the mind
What God had made, taken away by force
Neo-civilization rebuilding, is thi course
Forget no massacre, forgive the deed
Entirely aiming to preserve that dying breed
Steward covered me in coffee, the loos were blocked,
no one can enter, sat with legs crossed.
Plane landed with a bump, not so good.
Was feeling sort of queasy cos of no food.
Electrics were down in the kitchen
Only drinks served, not a good idea
when ones bladder is full, no wonder I felt *****.
Went to the luggage bay after the loos,
Was so long in there, not much luggage to choose.
Mine not around so asked at the desk,
Come with me said an official funny feeling in my chest.
You have drugs in your case, yes my medication I replied,
By all accounts one of my drugs the druggies crush
Had a repeat prescription in my purse that saved the day,
will holiday at home in future can't stand this fuss.
As I lay in the meadow of flowers blue sky and peace. I slowly drift to sleep
Looked up at the sky
Yelling asking why
Took a bullet to the head
Screamed good damn it
I was dead.
Layed down in the grass
This is death it will last
Felt the blood rushing from my head
Thank god I am dead
My soul is now in heaven
And my body is in the ground
My heart is down in hell
And I don’t make a sound
Suicide was the answer
The gun was the key
Put the key in the door
Im as dead as dead can be
Down there my life had no meaning
But up here im like a queen
Living life with no regrets
Living life were its not mean
Waking up every day is a joy
Down there it was fire and smoke
As the smoke would burn my eyes
And all hell would break loos
Dad would always hit me
Mum would always be high
They never got over my sisters passing
But just made me want to die
Took their anger out on me
And never really spoke
Just kept that bottle of jack
And the pack of smokes
My mother and father never worked
It was I who had to support
So I wonder how they will do now…..
I’ve never felt freer
Never felt more alive
Never felt this happy
Never wish to die….
As I lay in the meadow of flowers blue sky and peace. I slowly drift to sleep…. And suddenly wake up to speak.
BE NICE AT HALLOWEEN
Trick or treaters were having a good time
Grumpy Joe said you aren't getting a dime
He swore then he went inside
Kids were upset and some cried
So, on his porch they threw foul smelling slime...
THANKSGIVING HORROR
For Thanksgiving Pete asked Sue to his house
For eats he had ice cream, turkey, and grouse
Sue let out a loud scream
When out of the ice cream
A small head appeared t'was a baby mouse...
CHRISTMAS DISASTER
Fred went with pals for a Christmas curry
Felt pains and said guys "I've got to hurry"
But Fred was left enraged
All the loos were engaged
Felt warmth as his trousers filled with slurry...
The Biltmore House gardens are lush
And the rooms so ornate you must gush
But with 43 loos
That the guests got to use
I would wager the owners were flush!
She had a big issue with public toilets
All those dirty horrible germs
She would do her best to try and hold on
Until her home….she did return!
Her sister came to visit her
When she resided in Singapore
To enjoy a fun filled sister time
Exploring, shopping and more
This particular day they were shopping
In a big department store
When a sudden call of nature
Came a knocking at her door!
She scurried away to find a toilet
Her sister stayed to look at shoes
It was quite a distance and busy walk
Before she discovered the loos
Disliking public toilets so
Toilet paper was piled to cover the seat
In and out and hands washed
Business over and done…..complete!
Long , crowded walk back to her sister
Who soon said “Hang on whats that?…..turn around”
There hanging out of her black trousers
Was a long tail of white toilet paper…. nearly touching the ground!!