Best Sippy Poems
My three-year-old put his hand on his chin
like he was mulling over something troubling
I said, "Son, look at this place; what a mess!"
“But, Papa,” he moaned, “I pway wifh these!”
His room was cluttered from wall to wall--
books and crayons, even an old football,
an old sippy cup, its contents long dried up,
cars, trucks strewn about from a huge pileup,
game pieces and his Christmas roller skates,
and things I’d long forgotten he even owned.
“Straighten it up, now!” I commanded.
He began to pout. “It’s myyyy wooom, Papa.”
Stifling a tear of my own, I nodded, agreeing,
“But YOUR room is in MY house,” I explained.
When I stepped out and closed the door,
I heard stuff being tossed hither and yon,
So, I stood there for a good long while, and,
this is what I heard: “Otay, I queen up my woom,
but next year for Quissmas....” then, loudly,
“I WANT A HOUSE OF MY OWN, OTAY!”
Loud enough for him to hear, I replied,
“SO, WHEN NEXT CHRISTMAS COMES, SON,
I’LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO!”
Submitted to "2022 Marathon Mile No. 12" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
August 12, 2022
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Submitted to "'Funny Memories'" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Natasha L Scragg
January 16, 2022
Written 3/24/2021 (edited slightly 3/27/2021)
Submitted to: "Look At This Place!" Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri
BRONZE WINNER
"Anything Children" Contest - All Poetry
September 3, 2021
Categories:
sippy, child, humorous, kid,
Form:
Narrative
I have a toddler who loves to play
Pretend – imaginary friend, make-believe
She pierces my heart with her adventures
Into the fantasy land of dinosaurs,
Dungeons and dragons, long lost voyages
With pirates and princes – feeling
Invincible, indestructible, unshakable
Like she has the tiger by the tail
And is sure to always win in the end
I’m still in college and this toddler of mine
She gives me a healthy dose of jeopardy
To help me see the thrills in this life
Now I try to do my homework,
While she colors, paints or plays
With a wad of Play dough in hues
Of vivid and brilliant scarlet or sapphire
I was doing homework one morning
As she colored there by my feet
And I decided she needed a sippy cup
Of cranberry juice to sufficiently be
Prepared for her day of fictitious ideas
As I finished up my homework
And headed out to the kitchen
I noticed her pterodactyl there beside her
When I came back from the kitchen
Handing her the sippy cup with the juice
She smiled and handed me a torn up paper
The homework I’d just prepared that day
As she giggled, “pterodactyl ate it, Mommy”
In spite of my shaking head, I laughed
And began to rewrite the page that
A flaming pterodactyl had eaten
...and then a flaming pterodactyl ate my homework Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John lawless
January 19, 2021
Categories:
sippy, 1st grade, animal, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
Life can lift you up
At the same time drag you down
Have you drink from its sippy cup
Then pour you all out on the ground
Life can be real rough
While smooth along the edge
Cook you up way past well done
Then deep fry what is left
Life can spin you left
Till you're not sure what is right
Like a genie in a bottle
Rub you wrong then screw the lid on tight
Life can be a Sunday walk
All the way up to the end
Or a fairy tale where the frog
Never gets kissed into a prince
Life can be a breeze
That blows with ease or a hurricane
Choose any one of these
Life has your number and knows your name
Categories:
sippy, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Drink in life from a sippy cup,
take it all in but stop at enough.
Quench the mind's thirst but
don't over stuff.
Distinguish from what's needed
from what's just fluff.
Categories:
sippy, 1st grade, life,
Form:
Light Verse
Working Mothers | By: Maeve Simons | | Category: Poem - Children Bookmark and Share
Working Mothers
Working mothers are in a class of their own.
Maintaining a house and paying off a loan.
Schedules to follow, deadlines to be met.
Doing it all to keep out of debt.
Children and bosses all demanding your time.
Type this ASAP! Please just one more nursery rhyme?
Driving to the sitter, practice and school.
Your new black suit is covered in drool.
Diapers to change, clothes to mend,
buttons to sew, meetings to attend.
Doctors, dentist, teacher visits galore,
ballet lessons, soccer games and you work until four!
Your desk is cluttered with pictures of the kids.
At home your cabinets are filled with sippy cup lids.
Scratches, bruises, cuts to heal,
lately mom’s cooking is a Happy Meal ®.
Boos-boos to kiss, big hugs goodnight,
to scare away monsters, we’ll leave on the light.
There are dishes to be washed, laundry to be done,
put them aside and have some fun.
When Friday comes and your work week ends,
visit grandparents, neighbors and friends.
Go to the library, park or zoo,
you will surely meet other moms just like you.
Read to your children, teach them right from wrong,
play with them, dance with them, sing their favorite song.
Children need love, discipline and praise.
(The boss needs to be reminded of that well-deserved raise.)
Enjoy your children now for jobs come and go.
One day they’re babies and the next you’ll know.
They’re off on their own thinking fondly of the past,
trying to make all their memories last.
The rewards are grand and it is so much fun
to see your son hit his first home run,
Seeing your daughter in a pink tu-tu,
hearing those words "I love you."
When is your job done? - Never they say,
Thank goodness! This working mom would dread that day!
Click Here for more stories by Maeve Simons
Comments
Categories:
sippy, childhood,
Form:
Rhyme
Well Plastered
Sippy
Hippy
Upon Stumbling into the Barber’s
Snippy
Hippie
Flower Child Wets Himself
Drippy
Hippie
Peace, Love & Clumsiness
Slippy
Hippie
The Cheeky Free Sprit
Lippy
Hippie
Written June 7, 2015
Categories:
sippy, drink,
Form:
Footle
J_Juice dilated
U_Under disguise as paci
I_In a sippy cup
C_Container used to
E_Entertain
And moms think they have them weaned
Categories:
sippy, funny,
Form:
Acrostic
I am woman
A mother
Spiritual
Open-minded
The cosmos speaks to me
Last night I sat in the Moonlight
And was ordered to drink an Old Fashion
I peered at the stars
Amazed at the epic awesomeness
Happy for the well trodden path way
Subserviently I sliced sprinkled dashed and muddled
Clink clink
And a sippy straw
A fabulous way to end a day
Thank you cosmos!
Categories:
sippy, appreciation, devotion,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Garbled sounds of familiar yet compassionate love.
Surrounded by warmth and tender melodies as if warbled by a dove...
Soft beating sounds and liquids a flowing 'round and 'round,
Gentle movements, percussion's harmonizing soothing sound...
Breaking daylight unfamiliar sounds and brightness...
Sensations not felt before, warmth and cold with noises loud...
I scream... What is going on? Nothing is the same,
Awake, asleep, what is this a dream?
Never having felt a touch, never seeing light...
Stretch, kick wiggle and scream putting up a fight.
Soon wrapped up and snuggled close, familiar voice and sounds...
I'm settled down and warm as beating heart it pounds.
Soon I wake from deepest slumber,
Belly growling must be hunger.
Stretch and shout feeling pain,
Reaching screaming hoping gain.
Then soothing warmth and flesh a kneading...
Softest rhythm, two hearts beating.
Hunger pain has gone away,
Stretched out sleeping as I lay.
No worries, no pain all needs met.
Oh, but wait, what is that, wet?
Is it beneath me? That I bet!
Again, unfamiliar movement.
Feeling coldness strangely bent.
Soon by loving hands caressed,
Warm again awaiting rest.
Melodies so softly hummed,
Like a medicine I am numbed...
Off to sleep I fade...
Awake smiling, giggling too,
Looking up and cooing at you.
Everything so bright and new,
Wondering what next we'll do...
Much the same from day to day,
And surprises are on the way...
Rolling, tumbling and scooting with joy,
What is that bright and colorful toy?
Bells a jingling, blinking lights,
Stretchy bright and colorful tights!
Rocking, bouncing, sitting up,
Smiling waving, a sippy cup?
Soon I'm crawling full fun,
I'll skip the walking and start to run...
The time it flies so quickly now,
Days to weeks and then years somehow...
Daddy, Mommy, yes and no,
That’s a potty? I'm to go?
With my clothes myself I'll dress,
Shirt for pants, Oh what a mess...
But I can do it wait and see,
And when I do please jump with glee!
Run and jump and skip all day,
Talking and talking with nothing to say...
And then warn out asleep I fall,
With in my bed or in the hall...
Good Night All!
Categories:
sippy, baby, birth, child, family,
Form:
Rhyme
On the floor
And in my way
Countless artifacts of children’s play
Clothes of every size and color
Wrap themselves around one another
Popcorn pieces from movie night
And dry cereal at morning’s light
Bouncy balls and plastic jacks
Barbie dresses and other knick knacks
Laundry baskets in every room
I’m hoping to empty some of them soon
The kitten naps in warm sun rays
While I collect sippy cups from yesterday
On the floor
I sit by myself
And put all of the toys back on the shelf
It’s late at night and children sleep
While I sneak around quietly, like a thief
Trying to clean up bedroom floors
So no one will trip at half past four
On their way to wake me up
To tell me they need water in their cup
I press on...diligent duty
For soon there will be no more clutter
And I will sit and softly mutter
To myself and wish for more
Days with children…
On the floor
Categories:
sippy, family, mother, time, me,
Form:
Rhyme
I wanna bring back Psychedelic
Groovy cats and Shagadelic
DMT or the Sacred 'Shroom...or even good ole LSD
anything that provokes THE change in me
to go google-eyed and all trippy
rather than a coked up chav all gobby and lippy
wouldn't you rather be a hippy
brew some Ayahuasca tea, for the world to have a sippy
if the whole planet made the breakthrough
you would see that paradise is within you
You are Light and Love, Pure and True
On a trip can see it clearly
but words dont fit it, not quite or nearly
language can't symbolize all you see
through a glass pipe of DMT
Mushrooms in man aroused Conscious thought
lookin' to the Cosmos where answers were sought
imagining mighty battles being fought
while glimpses of divinity were seen and caught.
Or the Summer of Love inspired by LSD
encapturement of the swinging sixty
Donovan to Beatles an' least not Doors
the hippy movement uniting for a cause
in those crazy hazy years of yesterdays
when talent had the stage to say what it says
but nowadays for my generation, I don't wanna be mean
but all we get are poser boys and a karaoke queen!
So take me back to the 60's by all means
and let me stay there in technicolour psychedelic dreams
the futures bland and dull, though they said it gleams!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull
Categories:
sippy, confusion, mystery, peace, me,
Form:
Rhyme
I live in a dark stretch of land part ocean, part lava
sheer as light but opaque where the eyes meet
I am a pool of hard matter, still I appear translucent,
when you look at me with those big brown eyes.
Do you fancy me? Color me beautiful and find out;
I am full of helium, neon, ad hydrogen, perfumed
by methane, ammonia and carbon dioxide, ...
Do you like my silicon round, my phosphorus shine ?
I wore a sodium spritz for you, feel my magnesium
am I female/ male ? Color me beautiful and find out;
I boast about my crust and my mantle is hard core
stepping up to the plate I enhance the telescopes,
with my sippy blue and splash of silver, I am me.
Take your time before you X me in the box,
I am moon cisgender to my nature, do you like ?
I am moon, all moon, equivocally endangered
when you select a sex for me, so won't you please,
color me beautiful, no matter what hues you see.
August 3, 2021
Categories:
sippy, appreciation, moon,
Form:
Personification
Curly hair,
Pearly white baby teeth,
Shes not grown yet,
Still trying to wish she stay tiny,
Beautiful soft skin,
Hyper to beat,
Sometimes it takes a lot,
Even when it's time for bed,
Already potty trained,
And broke from a sippy,
Next will be training bras,
And then her monthly,
Keeping all my memories,
Thats all I have,
Time goes by to quickly,
Hoping I don't miss anything,
Or even just pass.....
Categories:
sippy, daughter,
Form:
ABC
Teddy bears, sippy cups
Mindless sex, drinking up
Hide and seek, wood tree houses
Popping pills, the sweet distractions
Peek a boo, making art
Bitten nails and lined up scars
Fifty cent lemonade
Crying eyes and hands that shake
Teddy bears, sippy cups
Here's to finally growing up
rebecca vitale
Categories:
sippy, angst, depression, growing up,
Form:
A piece of bread – untoasted
Splotches of peanut butter in torn spots
Chocolate syrup dripping
With M&M’s sprinkled on top
A bowl of Capt’n Crunch
Extra marshmallows on the side
An open jar of fresh bee’s honey
Unpopped kernels of pop-corn thrown inside
Warm water with ten teabags
Inside a sippy cup
The tall glass of orange juice empty
It tipped over on its way up
But he made it with his own hands
Of that he’s surely proud
Singing, “I made you breakfast in bed, Dad”
A little bit too loud
I know there’s a mess in the kitchen
Waiting for Dad, a towel and mop
But the smiles he puts upon my face
Will surely never stop
Categories:
sippy, father, son
Form:
Rhyme