Best Pants Poems
I fooled the whole world for a number of years
The opposite sex...those gullible dears
A sexy slim body, and cute little butt
Had them acting like fools...behaving like nuts
But old Father Time had a plan for this figure
That cute little butt, well, it only got bigger
One life changing morning my pants wouldn't fit
No pulling or tugging got them over my hips
Denial, denial, surely they've shrunk
This simply can't be...Lord, tell me I'm drunk!
The lesson I've learned will last me forever
The world you might fool, but your skinny pants, Never!!
can you imagine my disappointment...I believed her
...she might of been the one...that one woman
that has eluded me my whole lifetime...but...
...she...she was...
she was just blowing smoke up my ass...
story of my life...it's just never right...so many frauds...
but her....well her I trusted...I was willing to try...but
well she did me wrong...
she did well with the Vaseline...
lubricated my ass clean...
but when she shoved
that PVC up my bum...
well...that I liked!
the smoke?
that was the problem it was too hot,
your suppose to let it cool...
she let it go when it was
still hotter than burning coals...
all my friends...well now they call me hot pants...
it's not funny...I had severe...burns to my hole...
every time I have to go...you can hear
me yelling...feels like the pipe in reverse,
exiting instead of entering...it burns...
it bleeds...
but what hurts the most...
what really upsets me...
...as long as I live I will never...
what hurts the most,
...she won't take my calls...
my ass has healed
and I'd like to see her again...
give the pipe another shot...
she said she liked me...
called me good looking, vibrant,
kind, generous, intelligent ,
witty...but she didn't mean it,
I guess...
she was just blowing smoke up my ass...
...yes please!
With my fishing vest and waders, and a found long wooden staff
I walked along the jetty, on a rock-piled curvy path
The day had grown to darkness, with no light there to be found
When something unknown had startled me, when it made a screeching sound
Afraid of it, I started walking fast, almost in run-mode pace
Scared to death, and loss of breadth, and whiteness on my face
For every step that I had taken, this thing had taken one too
So scared of it, I was, it almost made me poo
A nest of string all full of weeds, I had to laugh a hoot
To find out it was a fishing line, that was wrapped around my boot
It must have clung onto my boots, when the ocean ebbed low tide
So, I had a breath to breathe, and I laughed like hell...inside
A Funny Memories Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
1/12/22
Thought it would be fun to write a cute little Smarty Pants poem.
I was crazy with excitement about it, laughing with happiness gore.
I was so happy about the idea, I figured it had been done before.
So I typed in Smarty Pants poem into my Google search engine, on a loop.
Out of all my ideas, I thought this one made the most sense, not a bloop.
It had a whole bunch of links. The first three brought me to Poetry Soup.
I had to laugh at that. I should not have been surprised one little bit.
Of course at least one of my pals on this site would have already thought of it.
Smarty Pants on the ceiling, smarty pants in my tea throwing a great big fit.
Smarty pants in the kitchen, chasing Sylvester, my orange and yellow cat.
Smarty pants on the baseball diamond, throwing down the big wooden bat.
Smarty pants spinning pottery, on a kiln, sitting on a durable mat.
Of course Poetry Soup already had a Smarty Pants poem, imagine that!
Kamala said she has only worked for the American masses
She did work for Speaker Willie Brown as his mistress
Even her husband loved his mistress
So much he had her abort their fetus
She doesn’t support parent's rights
She doesn’t support the police
She doesn’t support the State of Israel
She doesn’t support the borders of America
She does support the hammer and sickle!
I went outside with stay-in pants
But no one even gave a glance
For masks on people just enhance
Invisibility.
Before this, when I wasn’t seen,
I thought such ignorance must mean
That younger folk just aren’t keen
On older ones like me.
I much prefer to blame the mask
Than taking those with youth to task,
But am I bothered? you might ask.
I’m fine; my pants agree.
We are all going to wear khaki pants to the parade.
What’s khaki? I ask, knowing, but wanting to see his reaction.
He is new, and I love to toy with the new guy.
“You know,” he says, “Um, tan, plain, dull, plain, tan.”
“I don’t have any pants like that,” I tell him, “But I can do purple.”
I read his face, his cheeks pink up fast.
I am going to have fun with this one.
“Oh, I am sure you have something khaki,” he says confidently.
“No, she doesn’t!” all three of the others in the lunchroom shout nearly simultaneously.
His nose is pink now. He looks down, and I realize the minute it registers that
I am wearing my red, orange, black, gray and purple owl pants.
“Do you have PLAIN?” he asks hopefully.
They are all shaking their heads ‘no’.
I am so proud as I leave the lunchroom,
They know me here!
they go and down
some big and around
some
fall as you dance
its these
thing call
PANTS
Put on my pants
Let out a giggle
Do a little prance
Do a little wiggle
Up down
Dance around
Wiggle tickle
Wear a frown
Stop the dance
Remove the pants
Take a stance
Kill the ants
Spongebob
cartoon fiction
under water voyage
hopes wishes fantasy dreaming
Squarepants
Tribute To Jenny
Who Loves This Show LOL
Get A Rope Hehehe
Written on May 17, 2012
Updated on April 17, 2017
Mr. Phiburn, a man who had tried
To live not by the truth, but all lies
No surprise where he went
For him, eternity was spent
Wearing pants that were
Very well fried.
Inspired by: “Liar, liar pants on fire”
A fisherman sat with line all lank
perched on crooked stool that soon sank
backside now all mud covered
his face an embarrassed red
off home he went with his pants all dank.
11/13/2014
contest: limericks clean and clever
Billy was ten and building a rocket.
He claimed no one his age could top it.
The day came for the firing
But a blunder in the wiring
Made it end up in Billy’s pants pocket.
This story I am about to unfold,
is a favorite about my Grandfather.
In which he starts out acting very bold,
yet ends, running up a painful lather.
Down the dirt road, where he lived, when young,
was a farmer growing watermelons.
Ripe, ready to eat, on the vines they hung.
From this patch, the farmer, did sell ‘em.
Being a boy with several brothers,
who were always doing as boys will do
dDdn’t take long, for one to dare the other,
to steal them a watermelon, or two.
Lo and behold, there went my young grandpa,
climbing through the barbed wire fence.
While his older brothers all watched in awe,
as he crawled through the tangled vines, so dense.
He looked around until he found the one,
that was the biggest he could carry.
Cutting the vine, hefting the melon up,
running towards the fence, in a hurry.
Well, that old farmer was wise to boys,
had watched my grandpa crawl through the field.
His double barrel shotgun, he had poised,
to make sure, no more melons, he’d steal.
The farmer had loaded his own brand of shot,
filled with rock salt instead of lead.
Grandpa’s backside got peppered as he trot.
I think nothing more need be said.
This is my favorite poem because it is a true
story about my Grandpa. He was more than a Grandpa to me.
He was my Dad and best friend. My teacher and fellow
trouble maker.
He always called me his "little blue bird of happiness".
“My Big Boy Pants”
I got them after I was potty trained,
capable of taking care of my business.
I have been told on many occasions to
“Put on your Big Boy Pants and deal with it!”
Slowly figured out what “pants”
had to do with figuring things out.
Like – you can’t ask for help
if you don’t know what you need help with.
These “Big Boy Pants” grew with me
challenged my comfort zone mentality
instilled confidence and self esteem
based on the reality of failure’s successes.
I am a man now yet still cherish
the “Big Boy Pants” approach
realizing now that the magic
was not in the pants,
but in the attitude,
the diligence, perseverance,
tenacity, dedication and love
of those who told me
“Put on your Big Boy Pants and deal with it!”
John G. Lawless
12/2/2015