Best Slather Poems
It’s come upon me, and I think that it
began once I had taken my first leap
into adulthood, when the fruit of youth
was still so sweet . . . but then began the creep.
My teens were finished. Never more would I
regain youth’s freshness even though I tried
with exercise, cosmetics and diet.
It mattered not. My zenith time had died.
The magic potion coarsing through the blood
of us all - it constantly is dying.
That thing -that special zing- that helps us thrive
leaks out of us; it’s not worth denying.
Hair grays; diseases come and joints may ache.
I slather lotions on and tint my hair.
Ahead of me, death beckons, and “aging”
(the creep) has got me more than halfway there!
Sept. 24, 2020
For Writing Challenge - Decay - Poetry Contest of Constance La France
Those BURMA SHAVE signs used to give us kids something to do,
As down the highways and byways in our 1935 Dodge we flew!
The chef-d'oeuvre from the quills of very creative poets flowed,
Nailed to fence posts for our cultural enlightenment along the road!
Take note of this sign young reader as you pass this way!
In just a little while you too will be hoary and gray!
And like your Pa with steady hand be true and brave,
As you wield that straight razor usin' BURMA SHAVE!
She told her beau, "You remind me of a thug,
With that scraggly stubble sproutin' on yer mug!
If its my hugs and kisses that you crave,
Best ya start usin' BURMA SHAVE!"
The feller tried over and over to get a job,
But potential bosses thought him a slob!
Never apply for work looking like a knave!
Use gobs of BURMA SHAVE when you shave!
With her feller Mabel had a beef.
Claude's stubble caused her grief!
Said she, "Yer wreckin' our romance!
Ever thought of usin' BURMA SHAVE by chance?"
If on your mug you are well endowed
With stubble of which you're not proud
In the mornin' after yer kisser you scrub,
Liberally slather with BURMA SHAVE, old Bub!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
rub my butt with spices
baste my breasts with olive oil
slather my wings and things with sauce
butter my thighs, slow broil
ah, the savory delights of a summer BBQ!
(Echo Sonnet)
Come waltz around the diner's hall with me
where scents of ginger pie can spice your lust
when you behold my sister's flaky crust
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
A dinner fraught with traps we can't foresee;
the pie you crave turns bitter as you chew,
its texture coats your tongue until you spew
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
The hostess, quick with cups of ginger tea
will pound your back and push you out the door
while I pretend you're one we must ignore
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
Come waltz around the diner's hall with me
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
Two of my favorite things in the whole wide world.
Nothing could be better to this old country girl.
My idea of a perfectly euphoric day;
New socks neath my table and fried taters on my plate.
If I had the means, I'd buy new socks each day,
and with shear delight, I'd give yesterday's away.
No need for gifts of gold wrapped in a fancy box.
Just slather my two feet in soft, plush socks.
Some swoon over chandeliers to adorn their apartments.
I drool in a cold sweat, searching the sock department.
Give me fried taters; a lot, not just a little;
crispy on the outside and tender in the middle.
To get me "in the mood", don't bother with pricy wines.
A skillet full of fried tater, for me will do just fine.
Breakfast, lunch and supper, or a midnight snack for later.
This explaines my childhood nic name.. No secret, it was Tater!
Alas, never seen along highways and byways anymore,
Was some very classic poetry that has become American lore!
'Tis sad that these masterpieces have vanished from the scene.
So I want to add some Burma Shave verse from my old bean!
"Plain old soap won't do the job
What you need is a generous gob
Of good ol' foamy Burma Shave
If it's your mug you want to save!"
"If you want to impress your sweetie pie
You should have on hand a good supply
Of smooth and creamy Burma Shave
And let me tell you fellers it's all the rave!"
"If she told you to drop dead last night
And you were no longer her shining knight
Perhaps it's a smoother mug she craves
We'd recommend you try Burma Shaves!"
"She thought his stubble a disgrace
Each time it scratched her pretty face
Sorry to hear about that Dave
Shoulda used Burma Shave!"
"When rising each morn to mow your stubble
You could save yourself a heap of trouble
Before you shave give your face a healthy lave
Then slather your mug with Burma shave!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
NOTE: For the younger set and those not familiar with this bit of Americana, during the 1930s, 40s and 50s, Burma Shave signs were posted along many highways across the U.S. It was a very clever way of advertising the shaving cream. A different line of the ditty was posted on a red board about every 150 feet and they were fun to read as you sped by. The verses above I dreamed up but if you really want to see some of the old signs and the witty verse thereon, type in your search "Burma Shave Signs".
The WONDER of Bread
you can
butter it
toast it
spam it
jam it
roll it
in a ball
green egg
and ham it
slather it with
anything that
can be spread
but you can’t
make a sandwich
without bread.
John G. Lawless
5/31/2015
submitted to – Sing Me..A Jingle! – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Lyric Man
It's summer, It's hot
and I'm praying It won't rain
on my way to the beach
riding the F train
I get to Coney Island
and from the boardwalk I see the sand
looking out towards the ocean
on the beach I now stand
a day at the beach
I can hardly wait
to sit under the rays of the sun
and play in the waves
I lay down my blanket
and set-up my umbrella stand
I place my cooler of goodies
firmly in that sand
I slather on the sun blocker
for I need protection
I stand at the water's edge
at look down at my reflection
a day at the beach
frolicking in the ocean's waves
a memory form childhood
that I will treasure and save
Come waltz around the diner's hall with me
where scents of ginger pie can spice your lust
when you behold my sister's flaky crust
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
A dinner fraught with traps we can't foresee;
the pie you crave turns bitter as you chew,
its texture coats your tongue until you spew
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
The hostess, quick with cups of ginger tea
will pound your back and push you out the door
while I pretend you're one we must ignore
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
Come waltz around the diner's hall with me
and slather pie with ample hunks of brie.
I read you like the paper
Your face a cover page
I catch the comics daily
I master all it's games
Extra, extra, I'm all about it
I'll slather up a soap box,
An' have that **** surrounded.
Hey everyone! This just in:
She's about to make headlines
For swingin' them bats like Tony Gwynn
11
If Death be now the final cut
With no path to Heaven's door...
Thou I've never had the courage
To believe there's nothing more.
So forgive my celestial musings
And lay waste not my bugaboo
But allow me one small favor...
To love and pray for you.
12
Forgiveness be a wondrous thing
With no stone to weigh it down.
It knows no age nor time of day...
It knows no proper noun.
It floats upon a summer breeze
And makes light the coming storm.
It dances in each fireplace
To keep the masses warm.
But forgiveness holds no treasure
If not effected and applied.
So slather in gluttonous quantities
With a conscience as your guide.
13
There seemed a hellish wintry bent
As the storm pounded through the day.
The winds were whipping fiendishly
As our snowman walked away.
With a feral dose of helter skelter...
Nature seemed transfixed from normal rest
Leaving one to mull and ruminate
On the perturbations so expressed.
The End
Bugaboo: Area of concern.
Perturbations: A disposition that is confused and quite upset.
*Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your Uncle.
I live for
Peanut butter and cheese sandwiches.
Toasted in my toaster...usually when my world is in slumber
None to to judge me.
No butter...decadent enough .
I slather the caramel coloured concoction
On warm bread...to the edges.
slapping on a slab of cheese
I watch as the heat melts and weds it to the bread.
Then I settle in to enjoy the moment.
It is then I realize...I live for the moment.
Spread it on toast,
slather it on an English muffin.
Use it in your milkshake,
to make a smoothie,
top off a sundae or
crown a banana split.
Drop a dollop on a cracker
and plop it in your mouth.
Put it on a plate,
mixed with tiny chunks
of real creamery butter,
then spoon onto a
piping hot biscuit.
Rich, dark, tantalizing . . .
one of life's sweet joys,
Huckleberry Jam.
Sweltering summer temperatures
and warm sultry summer nights
left me scratching my legs red raw
I hate receiving nasty insect bites
I’d slather bare limbs with cream
that the chemist had given me
Bites are an issue that I live with
itchy red legs are quite unsightly
Every beach dress skims the earth
and I ensure I spray all my skin
But these heartless hungry critters
find a gap and they get stuck in!
I’ve spent all my hard earned cash
yet have been unable find a cure
Why can’t these creepy crawlies
abstain, their bites I can’t endure
A friend suggested that I purchase
a new-fangled electric bug racquet
It zaps the pesky bugs with each swat
and E-Bay didn’t charge me a packet!
The package arrived back in May
with my electric zapper I’m smitten
I’ll carry it with me all summer
I am certain I’ll never get bitten!
Lipogram Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Letter O has been omitted
Rhyme checked with rhymezone
06/17/21
squish your toes, squish your tush,
sit down in it and squish your bush
squish your thumb with great aplomb
smear what's dear, rather, slather your rear
smear your nose, smear your face
smudge dirty wet all over the place!
slather your thighs, slather your chest
cover both arms, cover the rest!
smear your knees if you please
and let it slip o'er your hips!
feel the dirt, oh, feel the wet
feel the slide, the better it gets
to point it out, seems patiently absurd
oh, mud is - such a dirty word!
© Goode Guy 2013-07-11