Best Olay Poems
Hungry in France
Garçon, garçon
bring hot soupçon
bouillabaisse accent egu.
Qu'est-ce que c’est, qu’est-ce que c’est?
Sounds like I’m un peu coucou.
Sacrebleu, Sacrebleu
what can I do?
In French all I learned to say
was frère Jacques frère Jacques
and café au lait, olay!
Starving; I am starving;
I’m hungry as a hog
still snails will never touch my tongue
nor the legs of a frog.
Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
May 24, 2012
For Cyndi's "Un deux trois"
Ignore it if you want - I just couldn't get the poetry form down.i
Oh the joys of an airport trolley
I try and push it oh what a folly
The wheels always have a life of their own
I’ve not got off the ground I just want to go home
I want it to go left but it goes off to the right
I give in to its stubbornness; I really don’t want a fight
At last I reach the check in I can leave the trolley behind
Farewell you metal monster you drove me out my mind
I queue up at the check in to get my boarding pass
Hope they don’t scrutinise my photo I really look an ass
No I’ve not got any liquids and I packed the bag myself
Oh damn I’ve left my travel sickness pills on the kitchen shelf
Now its through security oh how I do hate that
Remove your belts and boots, your scarf and your hat
Make sure you put your liquids in a plastic bag
Without my Oil of Olay I look a real old hag
In the departure lounge your pocket takes a hit
Have you seen the cost of a cuppa – it takes the mick a bit
You sit around for ages and hope that there is no delay
I just want to board the plane and go on holiday
Herded up like cattle when you hear the flight number call
I climb the aircraft steps carefully so I don’t take a fall
Squeeze into the aircraft seat and buckle up your belt
Hope the pilot knows their stuff and your last card’s not got dealt
Finally the plane takes off and you are in the air
Thirty minutes flight time for an exorbitant fare
Finally you land and you reach your destination
Time to relax and sit back and enjoy your vacation.
Jan Allison
30th April 2014
At the first piece of twilight
the night's fleece goes astray.
Nebulous clusters of unwhite
destines into mass decay.
And to the chorus of birds on height:
Welcome, oh sweet break of day!
Then the dwindling songs of coyotes goes finite
cause it's morning turn to say: Olay, Olay!
Long, slim, chocolate, and divine
Most men, and even some women pine... feign over this birthday suit of mine
Smooth layers with no assistance from oil of olay
I sport my suit proudly as if everyday were my birthday
My scars add character and tell my story
My birthday suit expresses my battles and my glories
And we all know that when chocolate gets too hot, it melts
And I like chocolate, so I admit that sometimes I do like to taste myself
I just can't seem to help it
Because my birthday suit always demands another helping
But there are many who cannot handle the sweetness
They get a little sugar in their system and my suit becomes their weakness
For those that cannot handle, I strongly suggest a sugarless diet
Because once you've taken a bite, you'll forever be tempted to try it
You may even be tempted to buy it
Just remember, No returns, refunds, and no exchanges
And bout time I'm finished with you, this birthday suit will surely be famous!!
hey man, your words smell like tuna fish
your rhymes are ludicrous
and I have a wish
you on vacation would be my bliss
your shirt is wearing spagetti
did you dine in the serengeti
oh yeah ha ha just call me ever ready
my words will make you sink and weep
I could be part of those boyz backstreet
'cause I got the beat
get off the rapping stage
and get back in your cage
your rhymes have no mustard
they are lackluster
oh yeah they are just clutter
so cheap and flat
and that's a fact
do you need me to make a map
you need to call it a wrap
and take a long swim
while I grin
and drink gin
and you and your poems in the water spin
do you want some oil of olay
best go to bed for the day
maybe pray
until you grow gray
and your poems decay
just quit
if you don't like my wit
just stay in your pit
okay I am done
and really need to run
you know this was just for fun
all those insults I spun
yeh, its just for a competition
and I was on a mission
__________________________
May 25, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Rap/Battle
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1025-878-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, 8 Mile Style,
Hip hop/free style rap
sponsor, Tim Trim (a.k.a. Nick Trim)
Ninth Place
Inspired by and sung to "The Whip It" tune by Devo.
CRACK that old age whip
Give it a pink slip,
Step on an elliptical,
Old age shouldn't have come this quick!
Now whip your bod,
into shape,
tone it up,
its not too late,
to whip it,
and slim it up good...
When old age comes along,
you must fix it,
before the youth cream sets out too long,
you must mix it,
when wrinkles come on too strong,
you can lick it,
Now mix it,
mix it good,
pour it on,
its not too late,
to be using,
some Retinol and Oil of Olay,
And if that doesn't work,
don't give up now,
theres still a botox doc in town,
go and get some,
you'll look puffy for awhile,
but don't worry, you'll deflate soon!
Don't nix it,
till you try it,
its not too late,
don't be frustrated,
get some shots
of lots of botox,
And always as a last resort,
if that doesn't work,
call up a plastic doc,
there might just be some glitches,
can make you like Michael Jackson,
and in that case, you'd better zip it!
Now go forward,
move ahead,
its not too late,
to go into debt,
so whip it
whip your card out!
A well-groomed matador José
Liked to moisturize with Oil of Olay
His hands lost their grip
The cape it did slip
He was gored as he cried out "¡Olé!"
in a praved courtyard
soulituded ment needs for braging
a wonders olay
There’s a chemical factory upon my face
I have lines and spots I need to erase
I mix elixirs and daily apply
The aging process I cannot deny
I have marks and wrinkles and sagging skin
The lines increase and I can’t seem to win
Freckles increase and begin to align
Like routes on a map – I’ve lived a long time!
I sunblock, peel, use Oils of Olay
I moisten and cream my parts – every day
I shave and massage, apply hot face oil
It’s my avocation; how hard I toil.
Silicone, botox, collagen from cows
Inject as much as my money allows
I need to move from my face to my legs
My veins mark muscles with little blue pegs
Choices are limited – laser? Saline?
The process somehow is getting obscene
I endure the pain as they inject
I need to recover my self respect!
Year after year I am deeply depressed,
I'm highly educated and I'm well dressed.
I live from highest peak to another peak,
Celebrate them every time with chick and sleek.
Wonder, what is it that happens in between?
Mere dull existence and clumsiness akin
To the awfully obese Americans...
In Cuba I first time saw the pelicans.
You ought to level out the intensity!
What if I happen to have propensity?
To depression, melancholy and dismay?
Make sure to buy new anti-aging Olay?
It turns out it's running in my genes.
I have to make sure I always have the means.
Oh Thank God! He gave my dear sister pardon
While I was still in pretty heavens garden.
My closest friends simply do not comprehend.
What are you? Why are you weak? No luck at hand?
Tie your shoe laces and simply keep going
With little signs of your depression showing
On pale, with dark circles, ever smiling face.
Take each step with some care, dignity and grace!
No matter, you can't find reason to get up
Unless it's week day and you have to come up
With silly, naturally flowing verses.
Better than being taken care by nurses
In a governmental mental kind of place
Again with some dignity, respect and grace!
All these psychiatrists were of little use.
They ramble on about methods and abuse.
In the end nothing but the magic pills help
I'd better stock up those on my empty shelf!
If Russian ruble falls again tomorrow
I'll have particularly little sorrow.
As long as I am well equipped and stocked up
It's just impossible for me to give up!
If something horrifying again happens...
Just no worries and you can always dampen
The effects of life's every day occasions
With the increase of happy pills invasion.
What that woman needs:
a top,
spinning,
without a mons seat center-
goddess ,no one knows-
he him ,
hiker]make flared nostril breeze
in some [how?!] now drunk nose.-
next day [Ray] sit tug wrapper ,
i t was wrapped], it was wrapped before
bring knife oil, - Velveta[overkill]
[Aquavelva land] Olay and beach[sand]
beach-blanket family[ergo again]
egos.
azure sky,
no planes on high
cept drug dump double jet
from bath-hungry Belize.
A lithe performer with Cirque d’Soliel
First much oiled herself with Oil of Olay,
Then practiced her intense high wire plie
While clad only in a grand floral lei.
Her act was a graceful mid-air ballet
After, she rode off in a silver sleigh
Driven by a group of leprechaun fey
Audiences shouted a Spanish ole,
Overall, an awesome performance, eh?
THIRD PLACE WINNER
Written November 1, 2022
Submitted to “Monomixorhyme” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Hilo Poet
[61 words. Nine 10-syllable lines checked by HMS.com
“plie” is a ballet term, pronounced two syllables “plea-aye.”]
Our family is all about smells.
When Old Spice clogs our senses
My father is visiting.
Sometimes I get a glimpse of him too,
Out of the corner of my eye.
He has been gone for eight years.
When my mother-in-law visits it is
Oil of Olay, and more than plenty of it.
It permeates the kitchen and the great room area.
Enough already!
I say "Hello, Helen. Glad to see you,
but you know I am an asthmatic," and
the scent vanishes.
She has been gone for ten years.
She died the day after she told her girlfriend
To go get her funeral suit from upstairs.
The girlfriend did not want to.
She was heavy, and there were a lot of stairs!
Smoke surrounds my recliner when Dwight
is around. He was the kindest soul, so sweet
and loving but he seems to want to make a point.
I think it is because he passed in 1984, so he
has been gone a lot longer than the others.
"ENOUGH ALREADY!" I scream when he
visits. Poof. The smoke is gone. I say, "Joe, your
dad is here," and he laughs. Then he says,
"He is always here. He likes it here." My husband is
pretty in tune with spiritual stuff.
Nothing triggers my asthma faster than cigarette
smoke, perfume, and cold air. Those are the three worst
culprits for me. For sure! Sometimes it is damning
being a sensitive.
Don't know if “delicious” can describe today
Another I can think of is perhaps “yee-haw, olay!”
Ye ole sun's shining brightly
I tip my hat politely
Sounds like I'm from the dark ages when gentlemen were gay?
Cows give milk, also 'wallets' sewn from leather
'shoes' accent her dress, 'Hide's' cover her body
in northern freezing weather...
USDA protects everybody
Beef prepared, served as a main course
should be shared somewhere with your buddy
family or friends, perhaps any somebody
especially when smothered in steak sauce
Lobster you eat I adore
this Poem I scribe, for nutrition to explore
scientists observe shellfish close, daily
lobsters fight, a victor will mate, Olay!
Scientist, those fishermen, do monitor count
then will return females, increase their amount
large ones will not be placed on a menu
nutritionist catalog value, appointment venue
having read that interesting message at-top
good decision, you will decide, as you shop
for your 'Maine Lobster' is truly to be loved
dipped in butter, healthier than our cow above