Best Silly Poems | Poetry
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The Best Silly Poems
"I dream of Candy!"
Sweet cakes and peanut butter squares
A living diabetic's nightmare. -- My heart
sings to the beat, Under the Neutron Star Crunch
Sweet sugar cookies and peanut butter bars
Dancing dum dum's,
The sweetest silhouette show - in my room
Dreamy, Creamy Cupcakes in the afternoon
Cinnamon Cheerios cascade on my spoon
Sweeter than my sweet tooth
Now and later - a forever honeymoon
Jigglin' my jelly belly boo berry Butterfinger delight
I'm in love, licking the icy ICEE all night long
Extra freshness, once I crop a top off of a mountain dew pop
My eyes sparkle like diamond dazzle razzles in the sky
i LIVE to fabricate my very own sugar extract R.E.M. Sleep
Savoring the sound of saliva trapped in my mouth
THIS night - ovulated buds - wait to feast!
Enjoying a delicious dulce music sleepy symphony
Braggin' and embracin' a pinata pillow escapade
Enchanted by a cotton candy crave - calling my name
Lalaloopsy licorice and lemonade tea
The best-wet dream I've ever seen
Marshmallows of solitude dulcify every fresh fantasy
Enticing in a bright slushy skittles daydream freeze
One fat sunny bowl of cereals and cane
Crackerjack spell --- chocolate chip swirls,
Caramel lumps constipate the brain
Sizing - peanuts and in a popcorn party payday
Wrigley's wild winter Spearmint Breath parade
Give me, give me, some Gummy bear Dessert
---------"Another Fruit Ninja hair DAY!"
Watermelon Taffy stuck on the top of my gums
Swallowing the whiteness in a whistle pop bar
I FELL LIKE A SWEET SUGAR STAR!!!
Glaze of glory erupts deep down my throat 24/7
Bubblicious, mint twist, Sunkist the best Twizzler breakfast
Yummy in my twinkie tummy, drooling over frosted flakes
One more strawberry smoothie 44 oz cup
Counting each and every Pez popping'' up
It's time to get lost under the midnight moon pie sky
SELF- Huggin'' and snugglin'' to a new sugar rush high
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
The eighties set fashion on fire,
That’s why it’s the look I desire!
So I’ve nailed it, long-term,
With a hot poodle perm,
Just like Brian May, Cher and Mariah.
Showed my stylist a photo of Whitney
She went ever so pale very quickly,
She got acid and bleach,
Three big drumfuls of each,
And some creosote. “Yes!” I cried, “Hit me!”
She slathered me, crisped me like crazy,
I said, “Hold up the mirror! Amaze me!”
And - woohoo and way-hay!
I was Jennifer Grey,
Ripe ‘n’ ready to woo Patrick Swayze!
But then - it all got rather strange,
For my poodle perm started to change,
Seems its poodle-dog mind
Was not noble or kind -
It was dirty, debauched and deranged!
My friends weren’t impressed. They’d cry “Wowzers!”
As my perm tried to dry-hump their trousers,
It would steal all their shoes,
Roll in animal poos -
I was banned from their elegant houses.
But soon they were howling with laughter,
It would jump in the lake - I’d go after!
Chasing kitties for kicks,
Going crazy for sticks,
My new perm was a doggy disaster!
It would seek other perms! It would spot em,
Bound up close, and then sniff round their bottom!
This all got me in trouble,
With Bon Jovi’s double,
Who called the police, which was rotten.
So now I’m awaiting the chop,
Down at “Woofterz”, the dog-grooming shop.
Well, I’ll no longer feel,
Like a smokin’ Brooke Shields,
But at least all the lawsuits will stop!
6 May 2018
For Maureen McGreavy’s Contest “Tiger Lilies, Dandelions and Bearberries Oh My!”
Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018
I would like to talk about "nothing"
It is a most peculiar word
I have heard it used so often
The way it's used is often absurd
I'm told there's "nothing" to worry about
Yet I worry about "nothing" for days
I try to stop worrying about "nothing"
and why "nothing" inside my head ever stays
There isn't another word for "nothing"
With "nothing" only "nothing" can compare
When a woman speaks about all her clothing
How is it possible she has "nothing" to wear
When she tells me I'm "nothing" short of amazing
What in the world does that "nothing" mean
If that "nothing" is really something
If I look will that "nothing" be seen
We are told that everything comes from "nothing"
A "nothing" theory that lacks evidence
A Big Bang and a boom from a "nothing"
If an explosion is something
Is that why "nothing" makes sense
So if "nothing" in the end becomes "something
Then "nothing" is "nothing" at all
Just a word that causes confusion
"nothing" can be big or quite small
If "nothing" can separate us from God's love
Please keep "nothing" away from me
For if I settle for "nothing"
It will separate me from eternity
So you can see why "nothing" is a problem
I am "nothing" if I can't be me
"Nothing" in the end is perplexing
For "nothing" is a mystery!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
You Americans really can’t spell,
There, I’ve said it out loud - what the hell!
Though we all recognise,
And, yes, humour your tries,
Well, the fact is, you’ve failed to excel.
It would seem, as the language has travelled,
That the mould has set in - it’s unravelled,
Cataloguing your gaffes,
Could take aeons perhaps,
If I ploughed through them all, I’d be frazzled!
Don’t apologise! Don’t take offence!
It’s quite difficult, in your defence,
But, my friends, with some rigour,
And fervour, and vigour,
Your progress could be quite immense.
So if vast stateside skies appear grey,
Or the lustre has gone from your day,
You could try drinking cider,
Say prayers! Eat more fibre!
Or.. try spelling stuff the right way!
Good night my fabulous American cousins.
You know I love you all x x x
(Oh the irony... as I submitted this, I had to tick the category named “humor” ;-D)
Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018
Words can be whimsical, a merry-go-round
They run in a circle, they go up and down
They play hide-and-seek until they are found
Look how quickly the little ones grow!
Words can seduce like a sizzling dance
They'll perplex the complex, if given a chance
They're as sincere as England, as sexy as France
As reckless as the caution they throw
Words can get tipsy if taken too much
The pretentious go on and on about such-and-such
The brutish ones can bail you out in a clutch
The foolhardy don't know they don't know
Words can be gossips who can't wait to gab
Words can be lavish and leave you the tab
Words can covertly steal and grab
Their guile is only for show
Words can impulsively issue a dare
Words can react with extravagant flare
But words must always be handled with care
When timing's too slow, for words on the go
Look how quickly the little ones grow!
As reckless as the caution they throw
The foolhardy don't know they don't know
Their guile is only for show
When timing's too slow
For words on the go-
Copyright © Michelle Faulkner | Year Posted 2018
Who was that masked man?!?
Brian Williams, rides again.
He was in Amilia Earhart's plane;
even rode with the Dalton Gang.
The day the Titanic went down;
In the rescue boat when Rose was found.
He went on expeditions with Louis and Clark.
Once gave his seat to Rosa Parks.
He was actually the first man in space.
That shadow on the moon........ It's his face!
The earliest woman, they deemed to be
bones in the desert they named Lucy.
She was his niece, tho she drug her knuckles,
so he really is a monkey's uncle!
He walked miles and miles on the Trail of Tears;
wondered the desert with Hebrews for forty years.
He dated Cleopatra; drank wine with Moses;
gave the Queen of Sheba a camel and roses.
He's walked with Bigfoot in the hills;
been bitten by vampires, but magically heals.
He has had great adventures of every kind.
He's Brian Williams; a legend in his own mind.
Maybe I can be one of those news cast stars.
This is Arlene, reporting from mars........
Couldn't resist this little tribute to the wild stories of reporter Brian Williams who was fired for seemingly padding up his stories....
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2015
Clothes all clean
but the washing machine
ate up all my panties.
Raced to the store
to buy some more,
But bought instead some brandy.
Stopped at a shop
for a lollipop;
a treat I find so dandy.
My skirt fell down
In the middle of town.
Now everyone's eyeing my candy!
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014
I sure even
love a cup
my Cuz' of a
hot on hot
choc the sweet
olate week tea. I
in the ends crave
cold I do the
winter like sugar
days. a nice in my
I need cup belly
the sweet of with
taste but coff some
only on ee toast
week or and
DRINKING HOT CHOCOLATE, COFFEE AND HOT TEA, BRINGS
REFRESHING MOMENTS OF SINCERE CLARITY. I INVITE MY
MOTHER OVER EVERY TUESDAY MORNING, SOMETIMES
SHE SHOWS UP WITHOUT ANY WARNING. SUNDAYS
BEFORE CHURCH HOT CHOCOLATE I EMBRACE AND
ALWAYS GET MARSHMALLOWS ON MY LIPS AND ON / / / /
MY FACE. FORGIVE ME IF I SOUND STRANGE WHEN / / /
I SAY I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THESE BEVERAGES, I / / /
ABSOLUTELY CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT REFRESHMENTS / / /
MY THROAT MAY START TO HAEMORRHAGE! I EVEN / /
DRINK COFFEE AT NIGHT BEFORE BED AND YET MY / /
BODY COMFORTABLE AND AT EASE IS MY HEAD. IF / /
I DIED TODAY I HAVE BUT ONLY ONE WISH, TO BE / /
BURIED WITH MY FAVORITE CUP AND CHINA DISH. / /
IF THERE'S ONE THING I WANT TO BE REMEMBERED / /
FOR IS THAT AFTER I DRINK COFFEE I ALWAYS WANT
MORE! WHEN THE DAY BEGINS AND NIGHT STARTS TO
FADE I'LL BE GRATEFUL FOR THE AWESOME SWEET TEA
I MADE. PLEASE ONE MORE SUGAR IN MY HOT COFFEE!
March 8, 2017
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2017
That day by the lake,
tattered jeans and old t-shirts,
my hand in your back pocket as we walked,
hooked over the top of my waistband.
It was hot,
You tilted your hat at a silly angle and laughed,
I looked over and thought
Smiles exchanged and then a kiss,
I think I melted inside.
We took turns walking backwards
holding both hands
drinking in the sight of each other.
Of course we fell,
you to the floor
completely in love.
Making a frame with my hands,
a captured moment,
'smile for the camera'
and what a smile it was.
Sitting together in the long grass,
both our hats at silly angles,
you made a frame in front of us,
as I kissed your cheek,
and captured a memory.
Images stored safely in my jeans pocket,
not the one with the hole,
that day by the lake...
it was perfect.
Only now I realise
one camera never worked.
The image of you, still vibrant
as that day,
but the one of us
you made with your hands
faded to barely a whisper.
That day by the lake
we both fell...
but only one fell in love.
Copyright © Sharon Tideswell | Year Posted 2010
It's the summer, and it's time
to take the train to old Saint Ives
and visit my Aunt Clementine
who lives alone by an old salt mine.
Aunt Clementine, she likes to dine
on mac and cheese at half past nine
then eats big slices of strawberry pie
while she sits and watches the fire flies.
Aunt Clementine loves polka dots
mostly orange, there's quite a lot
on walls and rugs, on kitchen tops
on her clothes and her dog named "Spot".
Aunt Clementine has crazy hair
that flies around most everywhere
while she hurries and scurries
here and there, and likes to say,
"Well, I declare!"
When she puts her lipstick on
Aunt Clementine breaks out in song
and tells me I should sing along
even if I forget or flub or FLOB
she tells me I am never wrong.
My Aunt Clementine is really fun
she certainly is not a nun
and so full of mischief
I just love to come
to be with her is double fun
in my book she is number one!
Written on 8/19/2015
For Children's Story, Dr. Seuss Style contest
Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015
Why do they call it 'tourist season'
If you're not allowed to shoot 'em
Seems like a great opportunity
To end the over crowding problem
If a house fly loses both of its wings
Would we have to call them 'walks'
Is it possible to have a civil war
Of course not that's just silly talk
Any idea what the best thing was
That came before sliced bread
If a turtle somehow loses its shell
Is it homeless, naked, or dead
I find this saying quite unnerving
“Practice” is what doctors do
And braille on drive-through windows
Find that kinda scary don't you
If a parsley farmer ever gets sued
Can they legally garnish his wages
Well that's enough of this silly talk
At times I go through these phases
© Jack Ellison 2012
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012
Listen to poem:
There is a boogeyman within
this home of ours, we swear he's here!
He comes and goes to mess with us
and bring about a silly fear.
It happens if we're here or not;
he seems to go from room to room
to keep us guessing why we see
phenomena that brings such gloom.
It has to do with lights, you see,
the kind you touch to turn them on;
somehow this boogeyman knows how
to toy with us, and whereupon,
we find our touch lamps brightly lit
in rooms, we enter while we're there.
But worst of all, to find them on
when we've been out, and such despair,
to wonder how that comes about??
For sure, it doesn't make much sense.
Do boogeymen have fingers that
can generate capacitance?
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
"Touch-sensitive lamps almost always use a fourth property of the human body -- its capacitance. [kuh-pas-i-tuh ns] The word "capacitance" has as its root the word "capacity" -- capacitance is the capacity an object has to hold electrons. The lamp, when standing by itself on a table, has a certain capacitance. This means that if a circuit tried to charge the lamp with electrons, it would take a certain number to "fill it." When you touch the lamp, your body adds to its capacity. It takes more electrons to fill you and the lamp, and the circuit detects that difference." http://science.howstuffworks.com
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016
8MILE8MILE . . . . . STYLE . . . . 8MILE8MILE
I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind but no matter where
I go I see them same old hoes
BRING DA BEAT c’mon, c’mon, c’mon HERE WE GO
YEA YEA YEA
They be warin old clothes, exposin them busted *** toez in fishnet pantyhose
They be standin in rowz, striking that silly old pose, workin them same two
So the rumor grows, and everybody knows, that her name is rose, we know
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE, YEA YEA YEA
She got fired from LoweZ, ’cause she stole a garden hose, spent all the money
Yea - Moe’Z ho clothes and fishnet hose, down at 52nd and StrowZ, traffic
really slows when she bends to expose, she get dirt on them knees, when she
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE YEA YEA YEA
AND THE COP SHOWZ
UP, UP, UP, EVER’BODY UP, C’MON UP, C’MON UP
YEA YEA YEA
She putz the powder up her nose, didn’t pay the fine she owez, gives a
discount to the bros
Ever’body froze, then the streetlight glows, that’z the way it goes, for all them
Same for the hoes, az it is for the bros, all the way from Melrose to the
And it’s still the same for the Souix and them Navahoes, UH YEA UH YEA
SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY PEEPZ IN THE POCONOS
YEA YEA YEA I’M OUT
OUT ROLLIN ON THAT 8 MILE ROOOOAD
8MILE8MILE . . . . STYLE . . . . 8MILE8MILE
One Knight Stand Productions
all rights reserved
Copyright © Warner Baxter | Year Posted 2014
"I LIKE NONSENSE, IT WAKES UP THE BRAIN CELLS!"
a quote from dear Dr. Suess......
Dr. Suess and his Shoe Store
LISTEN, LISTEN! I have BIG NEWS
Dr. Suess has a store just full of SHOES..
A GAZILLION shoes I'm sure there must be
Line them all up, bet they'd stretch to the sea!
Small shoes and tall shoes and some with spots
He even has one covered with pink polka dots..
...... Lots of Dots....
Round shoes and square shoes and OH MY
Even lots of cool shoes you don't have to tie!
A snake came in cause he was going to school
And wearing shoes at school is a VERY strict rule..
Now where could a snake wear a shoe you ask?
Well he wore the darn thing like a Halloween mask..
You can buy just one pair if your feeling thrifty
But poor old centipede - he had to buy fifty
He first bought 25 pair, all were bright yellow
Then 25 orange...now he's quite a colorful fellow!
A kangaroo complained that his feet were sore
So extremely sore he could not hop any more
They fixed him up with a spring loaded pair
Now he can happily hop from here to there!
So if a GRANDUFULOUS sight your longing to see
Dr. Suess is waiting at the corner of 7th and G
With shoes for the young and shoes for the old
HURRY! HURRY! before the purple ones get sold!
This is an old poem of mine that I reworked a bit....
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2015
Is it Love
a simple bowl of ice cream
sweating from the heat
cherries on the top
huddled 'round and looking sweet
two little wooden paddles
pretend that they are spoons
as we sit beneath the stars
in the savor of the moon
your lips are all I see
as they caress them with a passion
the cherries on your tongue
in a delightful playful fashion
with our eyes intent and focused
in a stare of solemn trust
Is this ice cream truly love
or is it merely cherry lust
Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2015
The town was all a flutter; Zombie the Musical, was coming to town.
We all signed up as extras… Yes, as Zombies… here we did come.
Bruce Willis was the hero, with the Mad Scientist Z, for all to blame.
Dragon wanted to be the hero, but became the Evil Z. OH! Poor Thing!
His penguins, the perfect zombies, chased across the screen, so berserk!
The director wanted his zombies to twitch, but all thought he said, twerk!
Someone turned on ‘Thriller’, and amid the music, things began to work.
The penguins were endearing, as they stole the show. Wouldn’t you know!
As they did the: step left, step right, Shuffle, shuffle, twerk, twerk, twerk!
Dragon flew on the set, but things got wonky, as the set, in flames, went up.
He crash-landed in the fire works, which scaring most the towns’ zombies off.
All was meant to be dark and scary, but naturally that came out, sooo wrong.
The witches decided to dig up zombies, for the flash mob scene, to work.
The new zombies, did their own thing, chasing more town zombies away.
The witches got them from the cemetery, not telling those alive, today.
Bruce Willis, by now, was really banged up, as he fought the zombies off.
Everyone knew something was so wrong when one bit Dragon in the butt.
Thank goodness that fricasseed Zombie, couldn’t bite thru Dragons Scales.
Well, everyone made a run for it…as the penguins steadfastly twerked on…
At this time, some say, the director was straight out seen, pulling out his hair.
He was yelling: Dumb Zombies need a brain! & They’d head to the cemetery…
If ‘they only had a brain!’ So someone added the song ‘If I only had a Brain’.
The director wanted Die Hard, but got ‘Die Hard without a Brain’. Yeah, Way!
Tho some would simply end up calling it, ‘Die Hard to Twerk another Day’.
The director decided: if he couldn’t beat them, join them. Yes, he surely did!
With the ending credits Dragon twerked. Groan! For shame! Nobody Look!
That’s when Bruce Willis called Chuck Norris to help round the Zombies up!
The Zombies wouldn’t take their cues! Well, not, until, it was time to Twerk!
Then they all just joined in, as apparently a real Zombie…Can Indeed Twerk!
They were all, finally sent home, with smiles upon their face. Uh... we think!
The witches put them back, by order of Chuck Norris, in any case! It’s True!
For a witch can mess with a director, but No One messes with Chuck Norris!
What! You knew? And the after show party, with Chuck Norris, had such flair!
He even ask Dragon for an autograph… Now, Dragon’s head is in the air!
And Note: Not a single Zombie was hurt in the making of this musical…
Though, many a one, did fall down, when Dragon flapped his wings.
The fricasseed Zombie liked his suntan and new hair style, it seems!
Written By Carol Eastman 1-22-2015
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015
God made Adam out of the clay,
A friend for walks in the cool of the day.
Eden was all that Adam had to tend,
But God decided he needed a friend.
From Adams rib, God did conceive,
A companion for him who He called Eve.
How long he walked with God we do not know,
But it was a good life without sorrow.
But this all came to an abrupt end,
On that morning Eve he did comprehend.
For from the moment she was activated,
Adam's life was aggravated.
Each day became an infernal drag,
Because all she did was NAG, NAG, NAG.
The grass is too green, the flowers too bright,
And where do you go in the cool of the night?
Where do I go when I want a chat?
I've got no friends, did you think of that?
You've got a job, God did you proud,
All I get told is, don't touch that, it's not allowed.
I'm going to leave, with nothing to put in a bag.
Adam said yes, please go, then no more NAG, NAG, NAG..
© Dave Timperley 2013
Copyright © Dave Timperley | Year Posted 2013
Little Miss Dumpty, satin and all
went to great London - to the Queen's ball.
With Prince she was smitten
but then lost her mitten -
frightened away, she had a great fall.
Copyright © David De la Croes | Year Posted 2013
Billy don’t lose my number
No ones knows the darkness
Other than one who knows... the darkness
There is no snow
There is no white
Wings are clipped
There is no flight
Answers fly away in the air
Leaving the human heart in despair
Whiskey tumbles down the throat
No more am I the ambitious goat
Broken glass and twisted rope
Dusk invites my... my final cry
Love gave me peace for a while
Then love became ill as death hovered
Over caskets and flowers soon to be
Dancing with my dead thoughts in the open air
How do I say, I really do not care?
Seeking death and pain, a solace I wear
Angels greet those other than me
I, deserving of the dirt, you shall never see
The labyrinth of pain upon the graveyard paths
Many shall walk, yet not a one will be
Any angel that could take me to the sea
Drowning in pain, the knife sets me free
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
If I was a bullet I would travel real fast
Take showers in the past
Use gun powder to keep me dry
Shop at Target
And avoid people at all cost
If I was a bullet I would buy a gun
A small one, for company
Challenge Superman to a race
Or simply let him leap tall buildings, if he were so inclined
As I leap to my own conclusions by his side
If I was a bullet I would go to Mexico
Drink tequila real slow to get inebriated
Finish off bottles of 90 proof vodka to prove a point
That I can become bullet proof in any old joint
9/01/14 The Poet - Poetry contest
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Oh, no, he best not patronize me on Valentines.
If I must dramatize appreciation, I shall agonize.
Each year, he thinks chocolates will rationalize
spending his time guarding the sofa so it won’t rise,
while my cooking and housework threaten to paralyze
all I am behind my victimized and exhausted eyes.
Unless he bears one, one way ticket for me to paradise
or procures a gift he ingests that will tranquilize,
he can stuff candy hearts in his behind so gelatinized.
The last time I fell for that darned, deceiving cupid
I committed to him and living my life forever stupid.
... CayCay Jennings
January 28, 2017
Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2017
Fancy Stress - Collaboration with the Awesome Jan Allison
There’s a party tonight so I bouffe up my hair
Pamper and powder my sweet derrière,
Arrive at the door, all done up to impress.....
Oh man, I forgot! Invite said “fancy dress”!
Pete and Sue are here, seems their theme’s ‘Tarts and Vicars’,
Sue’s skirt’s microscopic! Look at her tiny knickers!
Pete’s in a nun’s habit; the image is scary,
I’ve not seen a nun with a chin that’s THAT hairy!
And there’s Spider-Man! (although I’m perfectly certain,
His cape is made out of his living room curtain),
His curve-hugging costume’s quite “cosy” in size,
I think Spidey gobbled up too many flies!
In the corner, a lady has come as Snow White,
Gee, her bosoms are out there, her corset’s so tight,
They look like two bald heads squeezed into a sack,
Glad my hubby’s not here - he’d have a heart attack!
In the hallway, a robot is looking well-oiled,
Her costume’s made out of three rolls of tin foil,
She looks more like a turkey at Christmas, so later,
I really hope no one is tempted to baste her!
By the buffet, Fred Flintstone is looking contrite,
I think he and wife Wilma are having a fight,
Behaving all “caveman” has got Fred in trouble -
He showed his big man-club to poor Betty Rubble!
There’s a massive man-baby dressed just in a nappy,
The “milk” in his bottle has made him quite happy,
He’s shaking his tooshie and sucking his dummy,
And asking a lady, “can I call you Mummy?”
On the sofa is Princess Fiona from Shrek,
Blimey, Count Dracula’s nibbling her neck,
I avert my eyes to avoid his rising passion,
In walks his wife, and his face turns quite ashen.
His irate wife’s dressed up as pop singer Cher,
In her see through outfit she looks almost bare,
Then she lays into Drac just like Rocky Balboa -
She’s drunk as I skunk, I’m relieved I don’t know her!
Suddenly, Batman bursts through the door,
In his skintight costume - my jaw hits the floor!
He’s so muscular - bulges in all the right places,
If I play my cards right, could be me he embraces!
Well sadly I haven’t a costume of course,
Til I spot a young chappie dressed up as a horse,
I leap on his back - I’m a great improviser -
Strip off and shout “Hey I’m Lady Godiva!”
Written in collaboration with the very hilarious Jan - March 2018
Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018
She jiggled like pink jello into the store
with platinum blonde hair and red rouge on her face
the shoe clerk mumbled it must be 1950's day
watching her strut around with a hanky made out of lace
She said hi hon you know why I'm here
he replied let me guess, you wear a size eight
she said well if the shoe fits I might as well wear it
and maybe later if you get lucky you can be my date
So she scouted around and found a pair
and sat down with tight dress flair
he thought to himself I think I'm in love with Mae West
looking her up and down and at her chest
He gently took her foot and slid her old high heel off
his hand sliding up and starting to cruise
she batted her eyelashes and said oh keep it coming, she toyed
saying, why don't you come up and see me later big boy
With that he winked and slid the new heels on
watching her walk around like Mae West
she said you know I know you like me big boy
but my eyes are up here and not on my chest
With that he gave her a long wolf whistle
and said you know I just can't resist
now stop acting your shoe size sexy
pulling her towards him giving her a passionate kiss
She whispered hon is that your gun
or are you just happy to see me
he said guess what my little chickadee
tonight you can be my Bacall and I'll be your Bogie
With that she left the store with customers galore
staring, whispering and looking aghast
he said out loud, come on... get a life...
I know we're a little kooky, but she happens to be my wife!
Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2018
Your rhyme reads like a rap they say,
a rap I say,
a rap they say,
perhaps but rap is rhyme you see,
it's rhyme really,
it's rhyme you see,
this poem is not lyrical,
no not at all,
'cus songs use words repeatedly,
repeat you see,
We'll use that as the chorus,
it's easy and thoughtless,
lets build a rhyme fortress
with verse summersaultus,
not a word but I don't care,
eating apples grapes and pears,
seeking angles of praise from flair,
story starts now take a chair.
Out in public with clothes removed,
I've had this dream but now it's true,
a dude that's nude and on the move,
without a pube all in plain view,
swing it like a helicopter,
round and round 'til someone stops ya,
grab some weed and party poppers,
run down streets to dart from coppers,
drinking aftershock that shocks ya,
always after the shot has docked ya,
stick your head between some knockers,
wake up thick lipped at the doctors.
Write it like a conversation,
it might give it a new dimension,
in that last verse you forced the rhyme,
of course that's fine in this rap rhyme,
'cus rap is rhyme it's rhyme they rap,
that is a fact a fact is that,
by it's nature rap is rhyme,
if it reads like a rap then it reads like a rhyme,
does that mean always rhyme is rap,
of course it isn't it's less than that,
now that sounds mean,
what do you mean,
rap rhymes are rhymes and rap,
rhymes just rhyme they're not rap,
well what's this verse then is it rap?
No my friend this verse is crap,
I hope they remember this is a conversation,
they're not reading you lost their attention.
A third verse now this is long winded,
it's forced and pointless poets cringing,
get back to the story,
now you were knocked out,
yes and I remember nowt,
then what the hell's this rhyme about,
it's like a selfie with lips that pout,
no one cares except the poser,
that means no one notes the nose hair,
wrap this up it's going nowhere,
rap it up like you're a rapper,
this poem keeps on getting crapper,
no one's read as far as here,
in this worse rhyme you've wrote all year,
at least it flows like hip hop songs,
it flows with flow its flow is strong,
to flow like this use words not long,
here's the chorus lets sing along.
it reads like a hip hop
Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018
I went for a pint with The Queen
and tried to avoid being seen:
her voice was too loud
to blend in the crowd,
and jokes that she told were obscene.
for Kevin's Namedropper contest
Copyright © jack horne | Year Posted 2017