Best Oaf Poems
Paula Deen the Butter Queen
By Elton Camp and María Camp
She is the butter makers’ delight
To nutritionists, she is a fright
Krispy Kreme with eggs and bacon
Great health risks are thus taken
Her bacon cheeseburger meatloaf
Is perfect if you are a gigantic oaf
For a nation that is already too fat
She sees nothing wrong with that
People who her cookbooks buy
Eat such and may too soon die
She had diabetes for three years
With no caution to change gears.
Her cookbooks flying
Right off the shelf
Likely contributing
To early death
It tastes good, she decreed!
Many folks with her agreed
So many calories, but it is so good
Eat whatever you like is what you should
After her disease she finally shared
To represent a diabetes drug she dared
Cigarettes warn, but not Paula Deen
Of butter, sugar and fat – she is queen
To “that word” she admitted use
There are allegations of other abuse
One is suing and wanting some dough
Is this former employee in the know?
An awkward apology, she did make
How many attempts does it take?
One wonders if she is sincere
Or if it is just fear for career
Whatever happens in the days ahead
Is her heyday officially dead?
Don’t be quick to rule her out
She still has pull and clout
Categories:
oaf, food, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
'Twas the day after Thanksgiving and all of its ado and congestion.
I'd consumed too much turkey and pie and due to its ingestion,
Today, I'm suffering from a very acute case of indigestion!
I should've stifled my gluttonous bent - of that there is no question!
Of turkey meat and the trimmings I've had more than enough,
But my spouse has already planned next week's menu in the rough,
Saying, "You'll eat what I fix and I want none of your inane guff!
I know how to dispose of leftover turkey and all that other stuff!"
So, a hearty turkey stew and sweet taters are on the menu Monday.
A steaming bowl of turkey soup will grace our board on Tuesday.
Two turkey sandwiches with green bean casserole we'll have Wednesday.
Turkey salad and punkin pie will be placed before me for lunch Thursday.
A heap of mashed taters topped with turkey a la king for dinner Friday.
Turkey fricassee with cranberry sauce we'll eat for dinner Saturday.
Enough turkey was available for potpies that we'll dine on Sunday.
YeeHah! Ain't no more turkey - I'll have a cheeseburger come next Monday!
Lord, You know I'm mighty thankful for that which You graciously provide,
And please don't thing me an ungrateful oaf, but if in You I may confide,
May it please You come next Thanksgiving, 'twould be so very nice,
If You'd provide a simple meat loaf, mashed pertaters and wild rice!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
oaf, funny, holiday, thanksgiving, me,
Form:
Rhyme
Zillion supporters screaming, a loud buzz,
Yearning to return home cheered by victory.
Xerox machines preparing the next day’s papers; Max
Wit for the shame or fame of a member of the show.
Violent vitriol from commentators like engine rev
Unites with supporters’ glee at likes of Eto’o or Kanu
To spur skill at each minute to get even one stunning stunt
Spirits soar, sink, so it is, for here serenity bores.
Roulette, lifté, counter-attack by one party raising the roar.
Quick kick! Oh no! Replay?! Why not? That must join the FAQ
Pray the corner kick slays the opponent; oh that header was sharp!
Oh he missed that goal again! No replay?! Hell no!
No! Now he’s channeled that ball too late for the man,
May the coach coach correctly and call him to quit the team!
Leave the pitch you little loss-bringing imp! LOL!
Khaki-wearing “messer” I can even get your reek!
Just as our jests are about to milk out laughs, I couldn’t find a word to end with “J”.
Instead I had a whole lot of them J-starting words. So I
Hunched to think, but then looked up at the BROOHAH:
GOAL GOAL!! Oops the scorer is the "Mr. Bug"!
Fooled? No, I’m still for him leaving,( Scoring oaf!)
Even though this elation, release and joy, came from his device!
Defensive tactics, offensive backing up, I can almost get mad
‘Cos the best defense is attack Doc!
Bye losers, we took this easy. Supporters bob
Away, and the whole stadium sleeps in the starlight bathed by mother Luna.
(c) Nyonglema
Categories:
oaf, cheer up, culture, encouraging,
Form:
Abecedarian
The Football Major
By Elton Camp
Though the big oaf can kick a football so high,
Of skills for college work, he lacks a good supply
The old saying is true in his case without a doubt
“Behind the door when the brains were passed out.”
But there is a provision that gives him great elation
Because he can always major in physical education
He can learn all about the types of sports of today,
If he passes enough courses, he’ll be eligible to play
Will he ever be eligible to get his bachelor’s degree?
If there are compliant professors who to that will see
Then he may walk out the door, sheepskin in hand
So a job coaching football he will be able to land
Then a “Master of Education” from an inferior school
And as principal, the big oaf will finally come to rule
Though a coherent sentence he is so unable to write,
Others cover up and the coach will come out all right
Those far more competent than he, the coach can fire
And in their place, some of his sports buddies to hire
What message to the students does such as this send?
It’s not what you know, but who that matters, friend
Categories:
oaf, funnyfootball, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
She wonders where to go, clueless in her ceramic cage,
with octaves oceanic (there's an oaf in my ocarina)
But Oh! Her delight when her Breather goes soprano
a whippoorwill trying her wings in the sauna sky
laps of leisure in steamy cirrus clouds
(there's a glider on the Puget Sound)
And she knows the stories that abound
in the sensation of a sonnet
(though you may shake a speare at the classic verse)
She's licked the pearl pages of such pretty pamphlets.
You could say she's been around ...
Fighting flights of fancy through Fraser fir,
as busy as a bee, like she's got somewhere to be
(an important meeting with the sea?
a journey through Farrah Fawcett follicles?)
And things aren't always what they seem,
keeping close ties with Elohim,
lubricating our lungs with lovely life (and the pockets of air between the knife)
More hypocritical than Hebraic Hitler.
With tornadoes in tow
and summer waves that flow
(she has secrets to disclose
for elements in the know)
NOTE: Puget Sound is a sound along the northwestern coast of Washington. Elohim is a Hebraic term for God.
Written on March 18th, 2016
For the Element Wind Contest Hosted by Brian Davey
Placed 2nd
Categories:
oaf, adventure, allusion, bereavement, change,
Form:
Alliteration
“cat o' 9 tales”
Like a cat has 9 lives
every witch in every Lilith
lives to write another day
woe bedtide the poor oaf
who gets in Her way
like Heathcliffe he’ll be tortured
from here to kingdom come
and back under the Hades rug again
where all good sinners
and their sordid secrets stray
to die another day -
roses placed just so by the fresh roadkill
let hungry eyed vultures have their wicked way
don't you know?
the broomstick’s not just for sweeping floors clean each day ...
Dorothy has Her way
like a cat has 9 lives
every witch in every Lilith
learns to fly strong again,
lives to write Her grimoire spells forever
each and every other powerful day
Candide Diderot. ‘24
“When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very unremarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to. Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.”
(Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own)
“What fresh hell can this be?”
(Dorothy Parker)
"If the doorbell rang in her apartment, she would say, 'What fresh hell can this be?' - and it wasn't funny; she meant it."
betide. :)
Categories:
oaf, dark, muse,
Form:
Free verse
Perky, pesky, pretty-petite;
yippy, yappy, always-in-need-of-a-treat.
Loving, lazy, little-lump;
Cutie, cuddly, see-how-high-I-can-jump?
Spoiled, sneaky, snacky snoot,
Munching on old chips, teething on mum's leather boot,
overly-sweet, oogling oaf,
maybe-just-a-bite-or-perhaps-the-whole-loaf.
Categories:
oaf, animal, character, dog,
Form:
Alliteration
She was longing for her creamy donut
To linger long on her tongue,
She squeezed the sides and to her surprise
It squirted all over her bum.
The big Bermondsey baker man
Shook like an oversized oaf
At silly situations of tasty temptations
As he always liked having a loaf.
Categories:
oaf, funny, longing,
Form:
Quatrain
A luv ma life sae full o' joy,
I keep ma interests at full employ.
Each day fur me is sic' delight,
every day, aw' day an' ivery night.
I go tae bed an' lay doon ma heid,
aye richt efter ma supper feed.
Ma thochts are o' beautiful things,
an' tae ma wee brain sic' pleasure brings.
Ah even dream afore ah sleep,
aye, ah do, afore a count those sheep.
Aw' the happy things that has been ma day,
ma wife,ma daughter, sons an' all things ofay.
I'm lucky growing plants is my joy,
auld as I am noo, an' since a boy.
Saft , verdant, vibrant, aw' kinds o' colour,
that grow in winter, spring, autumn an' summer.
I luv sculpture as weel as ma bonny plants,
an' aboot them ah very oaften rant.
An' a luv ma Gairden that's foo o' life,
sno' though, as luvly as ma Bonny wife.
An' ma bairns gei me luvly dreams,
aw life's great, thats what is deemed.
So when ma heid has passed tae sleep,
aw thay luvly thoughts ma soul dis keep.
When I awake frae ma gentle dreams,
wae that first gentle saft sunbeam.
Am oot o' bed like lightnin' jack,
an' oaf tae work wae ma luncheon pack.
Workin' among aw ma bonny fluers,
ah tend no' tae notice ma wurkin 'oors.
Of back noo ,tae ma ain luvly hame,
luvly , 'cos nae ither hoose wid feel the same.
Ma ither joy is cookin' fur aw ma folks,
an' I'll no' mention ma luv fur jokes.
Then there is ma luv in writin' poems each day,
am sure oan FanStory yea arrr' aw' ofay.
A guid night wae aw' ma kin beside,
ma happy face yea canny hide.
Hae ma supper then tae bed I go,
thinking beautiful things, Aye, that is so.
The Auld Yin.
Categories:
oaf, life, happy, beautiful, autumn,
Form:
Quatrain
Oaf
who, both
loth to farm and young,
goeth eagerly forth to swear Musketeer's Oath.
Categories:
oaf, adventure, character, hero, history,
Form:
Tetractys
Violence and demonstration is
Not an easy route to break frustration, rejection
Bounce back on hardship and dismantle disappointment.
It's not an easy route to betray suffering and sorrow
Not an easy route to freedom and liberty,
Many would die, humiliated and battered like an oaf
There is never an easy route to success.
Procrastination is foolish and stupid in its little world
Not an easy route to succeed.
Break through the broken thought and spirit
Swirl pass fear and grab the hurdles
With a club in your fist tight
Then hurl it at wisdom and understanding.
There you make success your friend
Killing and rituals is not an easy route to fame,
Hard work and commitment silently bring the answer
Which shower a tiny and blissful rain on
Your efforts and waters your Destiny to effect.
Silent mouth is not an easy route to get to the mad house,
Not an easy route to get published in the mad house
Build up your failures and refuse to give up
Even in the face of rejection and critics
A closed mouth is a closed destiny.
Categories:
oaf, courage,
Form:
Ballad
Why did little Tommy Tucker
Have to sing for his supper?
Did he stammer and stutter
To merit just bread and butter?
And what miscreant oaf
Would then give him a loaf
But nary a knife to cut through it?
Didn't Tom have enough strife
In his life with no wife,
Or did fat spread on starch
Help him chew it?
Categories:
oaf, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Jean, Jean wis young an' alive till Ah gied her tatties and neeps;
Noo she's bein' seek as a dug, it fairly gies me the creeps.
Bonnie Mary O' Argyle took a trip tae the Brig O' Doon,
She took a dook oaf the parapet, ended up nearly bein' drooned!
Wee sleakit, cooerin', timorous beastie, ye must think it a sin!
Aw the lassies a' ever kent, wanted tae stab me wi' a pin.
Blythe Hae a' Been on Yon Hill, where a Tippling Ballad ah Wrote;
Gude Ale Keeps the Heart Aboon, when ye drink an awfy lote.
Categories:
oaf, april, humorous,
Form:
Verse
(Continued from part one.)
Afire not his thoughts, the Devil sees,
He soars and roars, in his physical might.
His bears’ hug, his warmth, could melt you;
Into joys and tears, in willing submission.
Treat him not, to your portions of love.
He grows cold, is lost in erotic rage.
Wiggle not mermaid, in bouts of passion,
The dough you kneed, may turn love to hate.
Dare not the wile witches’ craft;
Lest he banish you to the earth’s folds,
To burn in hate, love and desire,
Forever and ever, in eternal penance.
Spurn not his love for the unknown,
With frivolous, eyewash camouflage.
He watches behind the scenes,
Your tremors in the curves and the lips;
You innocent, blooming seductress,
Holding the Mega-staff, letting reptiles sing:
You bore the man, the crowned lord of vice.
Rip him, Independence, to his natural doom.
Haven’t you learnt, you Hollywood menace?
Ever seen Javed Jaffery the Tellywood, Bollywood
Lollywood and Mollywood a few dozen like you?
Tent walk dove-eyed, bumps to the moon.
Kanjiwaram, the Casanova Frenchie,
Break dance in airs to the Eiffel Tower.
Red herring you to the Spanish bulls.
Joy ride Rolls on BMW’s track.
Con the Germans and the Japs.
You, wonder android, generations ahead.
(Forget the Merc-E, TELCO ties,
Or their Sumo-ing the Japanese pride.)
Take care you fool, Govinda could snare,
Rap tap the Seghal to his toe’s.
Golden Eye the double O’s latest dream.
Kung-fu Steven’s at his own game.
Anti-gravity NASA, with mental fields.
Stealth fly you out, from the Pentagon.
Biotech you back into American laps,
Genetically engineered, Gene cultured, wreck.
Brain-virus Microsoft, in config-trees,
Space walk you to the final frontiers in enterprise.
Dance away the foxes of your clan.
Ultra culture, the real London breed.
In knacks of, how to wink and blink.
Lifting eyebrows? Take care you oaf,
Run you goat! and don’t turn your head.
He is the cool cat, really looking his English best.
Flee, before the gambler, he is still there,
Smirnoff you to the Hustler`s care.
Toss you around, under Playboy’s thumb.
Floor you with his catwalk fun.
Cradle you, to the American roost;
Chickening out, not now KFC hen.
He is “She selling sea shells on the sea shore.”
In wizard glee, those Colgate teeth his real hope.
(To be continues in part three.)
Categories:
oaf, lifecare, sea, care, love,
Form:
Free verse
California Fires Fueled By Das Don Trumpeting Hot Air ©
Dante's Inferno chokes breathable air
fiery flames fuel
state of emergency
president did declare
despite his disclaimer global warming
"FAKE," no matter glare
ring obvious indisputable proof, nonetheless,
the commander in chief
blatantly doth jeer
and doubles down ‘bad
environmental laws’ mare
reed with water
shortage explains conflagration,
oh...,and while he takes
a knee in prayer
(re: home companion fashion)
Thee Oaf blithely vouchsafes
courtesy, sans colorful swear
words plus (purportedly,
unbeknownst to him
marijuana laced powder milk biscuits
giving him courage - er chutzpah
as if he needed any) to veer
way off script of late spluttering, spouting,
and even spewing outrageous claims
that (YES) extraterrestrials rank as chief
villainous figures as
nonpareil arsonists this year.
This Lake Woe
begone Wharton warrior
no stranger to attribute blame,
where unidentified flying objects
affected intergalactic collusion
(hare brained scheme hatched,
engineered, and brooded
while holed away in his
Trump Taj Mahal) from
outer limits of
twilight zone) fair game,
not averse to accuse
Norwegian bachelor farmers
falsely, and even
Grimm folklore characters,
not outrageous to name,
he will continue to repeat falsehoods,
and later subsequently quote
himself without shame!
Categories:
oaf, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Dramatic Verse