Best Misbehaved Poems
'Twas the night before Christmas, when...
Oh no, said Rudolph! Stuck again!
The sky is dense and techno-waved,
our path seems wild and misbehaved!
Poor Rudolph stopped in sky midair
and yelled to Santa, we can't fly!
Earth satellites have made a snare
of wireless currents in the sky.
You see, today's advanced machines
are human gadgets called 'smart' phones;
they shop the Web from tiny screens;
airwaves mess up our flying zones.
Of course, they seek last-minute deals
on Christmas Eve, worse time of all,
when we are here 'head over heels'
to bring kids' presents, big and small.
Then Santa answered, use plan 'B'
come down one level in the sky.
Take care and watch! Don't hit a tree
or steeple top as we zoom by!
So Rudolph did as Santa said,
though still, they'd be a little late;
made headway now with deer and sled
where techno-waves had low flow rate.
Sandra M. Haight
~4th Place~
Contest: The Night Before
Sponsor: Joseph May
Judged: 12/08/2018
~1st Place~
Contest: Christmas Rhymes
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Judged: 12/18/2017
Categories:
misbehaved, christmas, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
I’ve not written to you for many years
Santa, I’m quite different from my peers
Not fancy or frilly like girly girls
And I don’t hanker for diamonds and pearls
Today I got the most terrible news
My muse abandoned me. She's on a cruise!!!
She’ll be sailing around the world for years
I'm bereft and can’t stem my salty tears
Oh Santa dear, please take pity on me
I need a skilled muse to write poetry
I’m heartbroken without her by my side
Could you bring one to me on this Yuletide
It would be the most perfect Christmas gift
Please tell me that this year I won't get stiffed!
~ ~ ~ ~
You may not have my name at this address
But Santa, it’s time for me to confess
I've been on your naughty list all this year
I'm the one who put Ex Lax in your beer
And I thought while you were stuck in my loo
I'd try to tempt you in my basque of blue
But you clutched your tummy. You looked quite sick
With loo roll in hand, you ran out so quick
You chastised me as you dribbled brown gloop
Said you’d seen my name at Poetry Soup!
You'd read my poems and you wouldn't be hard
With my dire style, I’m no threat to the Bard
Last Christmas was such a catastrophe
I apologise, will you forgive me?
~ ~ ~ ~
I’ve divulged to all how I’ve misbehaved
and beg the laxative mishap be waived
(You’ve not visited since I was a child
when my behaviour ran totally wild!)
I’ve taken my punishment on the chin
Bitter medicine swallowed for my sin
If you can find forgiveness in your heart
I will try my best to make a fresh start
Santa, please deliver just one present...
A new muse would make my life more pleasant
My old one left and she might not return
My pen is poised; for witty words I yearn
A contest win with Phillip Garcia
Would rekindle my poetic career!
From My Lips To Santa's Ears Contest
Sponsored by Phillip Garcia
10 syllables per line checked with How many Syllables
12-05-17
Categories:
misbehaved, anxiety, christmas, humorous, muse,
Form:
Sonnet
Our eternal souls are dust from a falling star
To once part and come back together from afar
Here is two imperfect hearts and souls
That when together they are whole
Will it be fate or destiny as this story unfolds
Both hearts and souls which was once complete now broken and lost
It came at such a high cost
Hurt anger pain and sadness
Helped create this madness
Even though both hearts misbehaved
This was a one of a kind love that needed to be saved
She looked to stars as he did the same for a sign
With the hopes these two hearts would come to realign
Forgiveness had to be found
Or the heart would never be sound
Back to our souls desire
A relationship to admire
Our love was deeply meant to be
For it was written across the stars drawn into our destiny
Categories:
misbehaved, destiny, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Young Barred Jeff the hair once heired and was bard
from Barred Bare Camp cause when bear he was hard.
Neigh,said he in the bairn wear the auld stud nayed,
Owe, eye oh fare Merry her fair must bee paid.
Her fair's dew her an' eye'll faint with me stave.
The auld counselor feinted ass Jeff misbehaved.
My stave is like ewe just ask Merry's made
oar ask the yew in the dew; she'll bleat what eye said.
Barred Jeff maid a song witch told of his whiles
it went on two long wile marry Merry beguiled.
Know boatman with or, oar blacksmith can boar
wench better, he said, of this eye am sure.
Perhaps, a black stallion, perhaps a bold bore
butt, barred Jeff beared was the won who scored.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Young Bard Jeff the heir once erred and was barred
from Bard Bear Camp cause when bare he was hard.
Nay said he in the barn where the old stud neighed,
Oh, I owe fair Mary her fare must be paid.
Her fare's due her an' I'll feint with me stave
the old counselor fainted as Jeff misbehaved.
My stave is like yew, just ask Mary's maid
or ask the ewe in the dew it'll bleat what I said.
Bard Jeff made a song which told of his wiles
it went on too long while merry Mary beguiled.
No boatmen with oar, or blacksmith can bore
wench better, he said, of this I'm quite sure.
Perhaps, a black stallion, perhaps a bold boar,
but, Bard Jeff bared was the one who scored.
Categories:
misbehaved, funny,
Form:
Sonnet
The Principal Was Never My Pal
By Elton Camp
The memory aid that the principal is your pal
Distinguishes from principle to each boy & gal
That was a good enough way spelling to recall
But it didn’t fit my view of the principal at all
To me he was nothing but a frightful fiend
Who, when I misbehaved, would intervene
I even tried to avoid meeting him in the hall
Because I didn’t want any interaction at all
To avoid and fear him there was reason why
He always had a most evil gleam in his eye
It was obvious that he took intense delight
In punishing any kid who didn’t act right
Waiting outside the principal’s office door
Was the thing in school I did most abhor
That fellow was never any type pal to me
But an ogre who would give the 3rd degree
Categories:
misbehaved, childhood,
Form:
Rhyme
MOTHER
When all alone, quiet, and lost in thought,
I see again the times when I was young.
I smile for attention I often sought,
Knowing if I was sad then you would come.
You would dry the teardrops that then would flow,
Be my bedside nurse on a restless night.
A soothing word and I'd forget my woe,
Consoled that you were not far from my sight.
Your wrath confused me when I misbehaved,
Never believing I was ever wrong.
But now I see love through your stormy rage.
With your wise words I have grown, oh so strong.
So when I think of you, Mother and friend,
All regrets are over, all sorrows end.
Categories:
misbehaved, childhood, dedication, devotion, family,
Form:
Sonnet
There Once Was A Man ...
There once was a man, oh so brave
Who would sleep in a hole, called a grave ...
Well, him being the host
To so many a ghost,
He arranged a big bash, called a rave
In days of Neanderthal knaves
When the men ruled like kings in their caves ...
and not being too keen
About keeping them clean ...
Often took on some wifes, called them slaves
There once was a man with a stave
Overseeing a holy enclave ...
Well, maintaining a grin
While absolving the sin,
He assessed wicked tales and forgave
There once was a monk with a wave
Who desired a head with a shave ...
Well, the barber was such
That she cut back too much
Thereby leaving his globus concave
There once was a man in the nave,
Although pious he could not behave ...
But they paid him no mind,
’Caus his name was maligned,
Being simply a sinner to save
There once was a man quite depraved
A voluptuous life was thus craved ...
Well, continuous sin
Ended doing him in -
On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’
Categories:
misbehaved, funny,
Form:
Limerick
When all alone, quiet, and lost in thought,
I smile for the at attention that I often sought
I see again the times when I was young.
Knowing if I was sad then you would come.
You would dry teardrops that then would flow
A soothing word and I'd forget my woe
You were my bedside nurse on a restless night.
I was consoled that you were not far from my sight.
Your wrath confused me when I misbehaved,
I now see love through your stormy rage.
I never believed that I was ever wrong.
But with your wise words I have grown Oh so strong.
So when I think of you, Mother and friend,
All regrets are over, all sorrows end.
Categories:
misbehaved, childhood, confusion, dedication, life,
Form:
Verse
There once was a man quite depraved
A voluptuous life was thus craved ...
Well, continuous sin
Ended doing him in -
On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’
Categories:
misbehaved, funny,
Form:
Limerick
Late one night I found myself caught
in the moon's gravitational pull on my heart.
Oh what a weak human, once was I
To be lured by the moon up in the sky.
I thought of myself as a tranquil ocean,
And he the moon, worthy of devotion.
But each time he faltered; when he slipped,
My world grew dark as in a lunar eclipse.
Sad but true, the moon ruled my waves.
Even when I knew he had misbehaved.
Full moon, crescent, or even at quarter,
He disturbed the surface of my still waters.
He stirred my waves to a state of agitation.
No sorrow or regret for his aggravation.
He dared to live high among the stars.
This moon's anger rivaled that of Mars.
I knew he'd never make things right.
So I turned my back upon his light.
No longer tousled by violent storms,
Within my ocean there's only calm.
No more angry words can he bark
The moon grew silent when he grew dark.
An ocean's waves hold a salty brine
So were the whitecaps held on mine.
No more salty tears for him do I cry
For the moon has fallen from my sky.
His gravitational pull has no power
To ever make me tremble or cower.
My tides are balanced in ebb and flow
Because of the seeds I learned to sow.
There's an ocean of faith inside of me.
Without the moon, I'm a tranquil sea.
Categories:
misbehaved, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
I went down to the graveyard
just to see my daddy's grave.
I went down to the graveyard
just to see my daddy's grave.
They say it was the whiskey
made my poor daddy misbehave.
Momma used to hollar,
'Don't you go sneakin' out the house.'
Momma used to hollar,
'Don't you go sneakin' out the house.'
But daddy he was quiet, yes
He was quiet as a mouse.
Momma said, 'He's better dead.
You know he never learned to live,
Momma said, 'He's better dead.
You know he never learned to live,
He was just a low-down daddy
getting good at telling fibs."
Categories:
misbehaved, death, drink, father, father
Form:
Lyric
logan...
when i think of it it reminds me of...
hurt and grief
and a stiff upper lip
and a shelter in sound
and a long wanted trip
and the swamps down south
with the people it holds
and a bad reputation
and a crooked smile mouth
and a nightmare come true
and a bad point of view
for the governments plans
for the people like you
yes the reader who was breve
enough to go become a slave
to the lines and lettered glory
of a poem misbehaved
so to be myself
is what you always said
so im doing it now
now stay out of my head
logan...
Categories:
misbehaved, music, native american, natural
Form:
Name
Answers left more questions,
But lately I'm all wrong,
Continuing suggestions,
Daydreams to our song,
Even though you're above,
Forgiveness I have given,
Gripping for your love,
Held inside your prison,
Intellect enhanced,
Jerking our regret,
Kept the final chance,
Lying in neglect,
Mainly intoxicated,
Nonsense as a gift,
Obscenely complicated,
Prayers at sea, adrift,
Quiet screams so loud,
Reversed into beginning,
Shameful but proud,
Toward the underpinning,
Underground so safe,
Victim of vaccines,
Weakly misbehaved,
Xanax intervened,
Yawning wide awake,
Zapping good mistakes.
Categories:
misbehaved, addiction, confusion, death, depression,
Form:
Abecedarian
Youngsters laugh at our "good ole days"
No Ipod’s, cells or weed
Mom didn't give you credit cards
She bought just what you need
Most kids had a paper route
If they wanted money to spend
Your parents were your parents
Not just another friend!
A loaf of bread was just a dime
And hand me downs the norm
No school bus picked you up
You had to hike it through a storm
We sat around the radio
The fireplace kept us warm
And listened to great artists
Like Opera stars perform
Families stayed together
Through good times and the bad
Always pulling for each other
And respecting Mom and Dad
I wouldn't change a thing
From my early childhood days
We were so much better off
Without these modern ways
The woodshed was your punishment
If you misbehaved in school
For you were always expected
To follow the golden rule
There was never a question
Of calling your Pa for bail
No one I ever knew
Spent any time in jail!
So take your Ipod’s, pricey sneakers
Your flat tv's and such
I'll still take those good ole days
Thank you very much
There was so much love and kindness
And love for country too
We gave you a great foundation
The rest is up to you
I guess we didn't do too bad
They call us the GREATEST GENERATION!
Copyright©2012 Beatrice Boyle
(All
Categories:
misbehaved, childhood, nostalgia, love,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m painfully aware as I regress down memory lane
That scene’s of my childhood slowly begin to wane
As I strive to recall them from the labyrinth of my brain
It was a time of innocence, of carefree happy days
Of childish pranks and mischief and summer holidays
Our doors were never locked, we children all ran free
And oh what fun we had riding the Calliope
We played stick ball, cops and robbers and other childish games
We roasted chestnuts by the fire, tossing pine cones in the flames
We showed respect to teachers…mine happened to be nuns
We had never heard of pedophiles, no one came to school with guns
Schools were a place of learning and we had nothing to fear
(Certainly not a shooting gallery conducted by our peers!)
We always loved our country and saluted the flag with pride
And when President Roosevelt died, I remember how we cried
Whenever we misbehaved it was made very clear
Parents were in charge as they swat us on the rear
Respect was a given…. trust was to be earned
You took the measure of a man by the values that he learned
Another time…another place …civility is no more
And marriage, I’m sad to say, is just a swinging door
Childish pranks have changed a bit…selling drugs is done with pride
Gangs roam the streets, shooting rivals who try to hide
Parents are no longer in charge…children can’t help but fail
Spanking is called abuse now, and they would land in jail!
Mother’s who would have died for them, now covet gin or crack
And babies are left alone to wonder if they’re ever coming back
Every generation thinks that theirs was the best
I’m so happy to have lived then…I’ve truly been blest
Another time…another place…I’m afraid it is no more
Yet I’m eager to hang around to see what the future has in store
Categories:
misbehaved, childhoodhappy, happy, drug,
Form:
Narrative