"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
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
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
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
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
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
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 ass 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
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
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
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
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 © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2017
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
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
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
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
There you go again little Sly fox P.D.
Another game of tag and jeopardy.
Clever, clever, little fox so bloodthirsty.
Chaos roams through your veins of liberty.
You walk the ground, prancing around your hostility.
Marching down with the dignity of mis-guided anarchy.
I'm gonna hunt you smell end it well.
Hang you up from your trophy tail.
Kiss your night one last farewell.
By morning dawn your foxy tail,
Won't live another tale to tell.
I'm gonna find ya' ~ pull your hideout from where you hide.
Smack you around in your everyday rebellious ways.
Thinking you can defeat my crowd with your lawlessness..
I don't need no hounds to track your unlivable Holy-mess.
You created a selfish character of kindness for the blindness.
You prey on the sheep's and linger on their wall of hopelessness.
Your sinfulness grew from the boldness, and bitterness,
Of growing up parent-less.
My dear Sly Fox are you on alert with your ears of nobleness.
Did you not hear me creeping while you were sleeping.
Sly fox the destroyer!
You are right, you are a mischievous game of hunt!
My trap is set and waiting for you by the river front.
Go ahead, take a drink, pull one last obnoxious stunt.
Run and run, as fast as you can!
You can't out run this one game of Skitty Skat fox hunt.....
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011
I am Compassionate, love and breathe poetry, humorous and a peace maker.
Sister of Patti Lynne, Paul, David and Beth.
I love children (more), I love to sing in a choir and have a song for just about everything. I love to make others happy.
I feel loved, appreciated and very blessed.
I fear not being healthy enough to make it to my son’s wedding, getting sick this winter and losing my mom.
I’d love to be able to travel again, walk around a mall, and would love to be in a poetry slam.
Living in the GTA Greater Toronto Area, Ontario.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Regina Riddles Contest: Bio Poems
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
My Shoe Collection
Nice if you have them
There is love
There is happiness
When the next path of your journey
You take with shoes on your feet
I am coming out of the closet
I am not a woman
But I do have too many shoes
Love and relationships
Why there are a lot like a pair of shoes
At times, things may stink and smell
Yet still better as a pair
If I could walk a mile
In everyman’s shoes
I could walk forever
Never having to buy my own
The Red Socks
Will never win
Without good running shoes
If only I had blue shoes
Id be dancing with you
After the autographs
Homeless people wish for shoes
Millionaires wish for closets
My feet are so big
Ladies buy me my shoes
The man with one leg
Looks for shoe sales
At half off
The Hookers Shoes
A good hooker
Never has used shoes
Academy a Wards
Winners and losers
All complain about their shoes
Petty and jealous, the famously inane
Their shoes show their vain
They come in many fashions
In shoes there is humanities design
We all walk the path of human strife
All Shoes matter
All meet at the pub
So their feet can have a rest
While the mouths imbibe with chatter
If all goes well
The shoes fall off in a clatter
Got the finest shoes from Miami
Found out they were fakes
Tongues were bent and crooked
Must have come from crocodile skinned tears
Mocking the homeless with no shoes over the years
The Great Canadian Shoe Trapper
The trapper goes for beaver pelts
The millionaire goes for shoes of felt
Armani makes it all the way
Only when the consumer comes out to play
The Shoeless Argentine
If you wish to invade the Falkland’s
Remember to bring your shoes
Cause your dictator has all your money
He cares not if you really lose
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
This is really kind of a sad story
But please sit yourself down
For the words I'm going to bestow upon you
Will make you feel your watching a drunken clown
As I bow to gracefully greet you
My silly hat suddenly slips from my head
As I look to the ground and try to focus on it
I feel as if I should have stayed home in bed
Bending over I slowly reach for it
Then feel my face suddenly kissing the ground
Now the happy smile that I painted on my face
Has been smeared into a big ugly frown
Standing back up and trying to gather myself
I slowly begin to reach into my empty hat
But the dove that was supposed to be hidden in there
Is no longer where it should be at
So I reach to my sleeve for some flowers
Only to notice they are no longer there
I happen to pull out some fine ladies undies
To my amazement I think,what a nice pair
Then I reach to my other sleeve for something
Though so afraid of what it might be
I pull out a picture of my drunken self standing
In a photo box by a bar,casually taking a pee
In such embarassment I then begin to stumble
These big floppy shoes are too heavy for me today
I then reach into my pocket to find this here poem
Leaving me wonder,how will I to pay off my bar tab this way
Danny Boy Kearley:1-14-13
Not at all a true story..Ha,ha...
Just some silly words from my head(Hic-up)
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2013
Summer’s winding down, it’s chillier with the new born morning dew.
So I ran out to finish painting my house, before caught in winter’s Noose.
Yeah! I DO procrastinate. It’s true! But there’s a Gall-Darn reason why!
His name is Dragon… Yes-sir-eeedie! And when he helps… Oh My!
So be forewarned, as soon there’ll be paint, found clear up to the moon!
The first thing was the ladder…He knocked it down once or twice!
Grandpa Troll finally, locked it in place. Now isn’t that really nice! <3
Fortunately, I’d already finished way up high, earlier in the spring.
The penguins painted the lower parts as they made their brushes sing.
And Dragon lifted them up on his tail for another section. How sweet!
But if he can work so well with the penguins, just why did he have to…
Knock me of my ladder, twice? A tail cramp he stated but… Honestly!
Do you believe that? Oh My? But things got worse as I spilled some paint…
On his head… It was just a drop or two. Honestly! Sorry, was what I said!
He wiped it from his face, head, and topknot plus all that bling he wears!
But did Dragon believe me? Not on your life! But I got to hose him down.
Hey! That was fun! As we only use water based paint, with him around.
As he wiped it off his face and all he wore, I saw his eyes spark red, Darn!
Here we go, again! But EVERYONE knows not to duck beneath, my ladder.
Don’t you see! But as Dragon readied to singe my butt, a Priest came forth!
He’d stopped by, to bless our house, just then. Now wasn’t that So Very Sweet!
I’m no dummy and asked people over, to distract Dragon, one by one, you see!
Ambulance drivers arrived to say hello! The police sold us tickets, to their ball!
But the best thing of all, they helped paint our house. Done with brotherly love!
We even trimmed the house in cute little penguin feet! And I turned to see…
Dragon feet going up a very tall tree. We’ll keep them. What do you think?
As a conversational piece! Then the firemen barbecued everyone some lunch.
As we got out our telescope to check the moon for Dragon paws… Sure Nuff!
They were really there! I secretly, think the neighbor witch had been involved.
I know sure well, some agency will call! I say, let THEM go wash them off!
Now September has officially become the Dragon moon. Stop by to celebrate!
The whole town’s here! Let the block party resume! Come on Y’all partake!
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014
I post on the Soup for all to see
And am no angel nor claim to be.
I am kind and all that
But carry a big bat...
So beware how you remember me!
For the Sensitive Community contest.
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2016
Kicking Santa is not nice to do.
Chuck Norris has replaced him, 'tis true.
You'd better not pout,
or a swollen snout,
and a stocking of whoop-ass for you!
Contest: A Quintain Christmas
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014
The story of his life
a made for TV thriller.
Title in blood red
life of a cereal killer.
He don’t want no fried eggs
or peanut butter toast.
He killed a box of grape nuts once
but he don’t like to boast.
He has Wheaties for his breakfast
Cheerios for his lunch.
For a mid day snack
he likes Captain Crunch.
He don’t want a T-bone
he don’t want French silk.
Corn flakes and some sugar
in a great big bowl of milk.
Along about suppertime
as he hides from the cops.
Sitting in the shadows
munching sugar pops.
He don’t mean to scare you
sometimes he behaves.
Even when it’s boo berry
or Count Chocula he craves.
He’s no threat to society
at a table or a booth.
He’s just a cereal killer
with a really bad sweet tooth.
From early dawn til after dusk
he’s never gonna stop.
You hear him in his kitchen
going snap crackle and pop!
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015