Best Sneaked Poems


Premium Member I Heard Mother

I Heard Mother
(to tune of "I Saw Mother Kissing Santa Clause")

I heard Mother scolding Santa's elf
As I prowled the house on Christmas Eve.
He'd hid in St. Nick's sleigh
And then sneaked out to play
After having waited for his boss to fly away.
Mother caught him gobbling all our snacks
After he tore open every gift.
Oh, when she glared down at his face,
He went scrambling from our place
Screaming, "Santa, stop the sleigh-
I need a lift!"

For Silent One's 'Your first poem on Poetry Soup' Poetry Contest
I believe it was Dec. 23 of 2009 right before Christmas!

Hostile Head Takeover Part 1

I'm near cuckoo
This Monday blue
A day not eas'ly recommended
for making sense
I'm way too tense
And hung-over to comprehend it
 
My mind's on the bend
my imaginary friends
are threatening to abandon en masse
I was perfectly sane
till they pissed in my brain
negotiations are at an impasse
 
It pains me to mention
the bone of contention
menacing our peaceful existence
my voices of own creation
went above their station
with mutinous and unfair persistence

Old Mother Hubbard
had sneaked to the cupboard
to steal skeleton bones for her yapper
the skeletons in-wait
welcomed their bait
with little resistance managed to trap her
 
As to why she'd no clue
their demands were few
and until met they'd keep her as hostage
twixt two skeletons squeezed
the hag was well-pleased
only in dreams she was ever in bondage
 
The skeletons vacated
on their long-awaited
crusade for their rights to be equal
a sudden scurry in my head
when the voices I have bred
became hushed, which was rather unusual
 
The spokes-skeleton
passed a colorless wind
voiced their single demand:  to remain
"We were made to vanish
to a dark cupboard banished
we demand henceforth to share your domain."
 
A resounding "No!
You'll stay down below
we're totaling 20, including the yapper
there's hardly space
the din to embrace
and an hour-long queue to the crapper."
 
"Then the beldam Hubbard
will remain in the cupboard
lore would have it, bare to the bone
the cupboard, that is
not the hag, whose Maltese
diced up raw will be fed to the crone.

We implore you most
kindly engage our host
in negotiations and if necessary plead
we want into his brain
and share your domain
or prepare for a skeleton stampede."


PART 2 TO FOLLOW.  THIS MIGHT TAKE A WHILE, AS I'M LOCKED IN HOSTILE NEGOTIATIONS

The Christmas Gift

Another Christmas season has arrived, at last
  and like so many others from Yuletides past,
    I'm glad some things have remained unchanged
      Although the furniture has been rearranged.

Across the room, a fire crackles and burns
  Jenny has grown; for love, her heart yearns
    I recall when all she wanted was a baby doll
      and skates for the new ice rink in the mall

I've been unpacked in just enough time to see
  my family hanging ornaments upon their fir tree.
    Garlands of holly berries and popcorn strung
      The green velvet stockings beneath me are hung

There's gingerbread scent and carols on the radio
  Dad sneaked a kiss from Mom under the mistletoe
    The angel nods to me as she's lifted into place
      atop the tree. She once told me her name is Grace.

There's old Kaci, the collie, fast asleep on his rug
  Grandpa looks sad. I wish I could give him a hug
    Mom is headed for the mantle to give me a shake
      She's always gentle, taking care I don't break.

I was a gift from her Mom on Christmas, long ago
  when she had asked Santa to please bring her snow,
    but snow didn't fall in the South where she resided.
      I was the closest thing Santa had lovingly provided

Tears fill Mom's eyes as my snow starts to flurry
  I've become a bit cloudy and that makes her worry,
    but I'll see her smile again Christmas Eve night
      when she puts me in Jenny's stocking by fire light. 




December 15, 2020
  Christmas Poems ~ Old or New
      Sponsored by ~ Constance La France


On the Pantry Shelf

She sneaked into the pantry, tender steps came from behind 
His charismatic twinkle took her heart completely by surprise
And in a speck of time, a secret kiss to follow
As fate joined them together, forever in tomorrow

Through the years she won't forget the day he called her near
To tell her that he'd written a song that only she would hear
Timeless is the butterfly-and goes where we know not-
As fleeting chance encounters create a solid bond

His timely passing left her hollow
Now gripped with grief she struggles to swallow
And always returns to haunt her again
To go on alone, her free will had chosen

Now and then she whispers, but only to herself
That somewhere in another time 
He'll complete the songs he left behind
On the pantry shelf 



Written by Karen Anglesey
Published in Theatre of the Mind
Noble House Publishers/Individual Copyright holders/2003

Premium Member Pursuing Dreams

A Sonnet in
      ~ Iambic Tetrameter ~


At age eighteen he fled his home
Could barely wait, despised his town
To see the world all on his own
He'd wear a smile, no more to frown

He traveled in a makeshift way
Hitched rides in vans and sneaked on trains
When desperate, he stowed away
At times got drenched by gusts of rain

Two years he spent pursuing dreams
Grew wiser as the time crawled by
Found out that life's nor peach nor cream
For home and hearth, began to sigh...

Came back and knocked on his front door
Discovered that 'twas 'home' no more

Premium Member Without a Clue

The guests were partying in the big house
a burglar sneaked in armed with a lead pipe
Mrs. White in the kitchen bastes a grouse
Colonel Mustard had guests caught in his hype

A candle stick shone while hung from a rope
in the library Miss Scarlett, dressed in red
felt a cold shiver when a hand did grope
then led to the study, she, filled with dread

In the hall a loud bang sounds with a boom
a revolver echoed…  Reverend Green fell
Professor Plum in the billiard room
bled from a dagger…a final farewell

In the lounge, Mrs Peacock ( what a wench )
reflects on her actions, holding a wrench

© 9/6/2014

This sonnet is based on the game of Cluedo it has 
been the source of many hours of entertainment
and the source of many an argument, possibly 
leading to murder.
Mr Green was originally called Reverend Green
it was changed to Mr. for the American market.


Premium Member The Sneaky Ninja Wannabe

There once was a ninja named Dwight
who sneaked in my bedroom one night.
Bumping into my bed,
when he saw me, he said,
"I'd do better in here with some light!"

For the 'ALL YOURS (Jun 19)' Poetry Contest of Brian Strand

A Mother's Ears

A lesson I have learned before the birds and the bees
was when I tripped, tumbled and fell, frightened by my bloodied knees
My mother came and helped me up, patched my wound, smiled and teased;
“When you fall, always get up, you don’t want to stay down and freeze”.

Curiously what marked my mind and what stood out most vividly,
other than the way she took care of me so tenderly;
How could she have heard me fall and come to my aid instantly,
for I knew she was asleep, and I sneaked out so quietly.

To this question she laughed, rumpled my hair with amusement
“Don’t you know moms have a radar, switched on to permanent? 
Be it trouble, or a lie, for us  there’s no concealment,
or sudden fever at night, we know.” she said to my amazement.

“Hear with your ears, but listen with your heart, often save the day.”
These words I carry till today, for a mother’s role I now play.



Inspired by Craig Cornish' theme - NOT FOR CONTEST
07 May 2015
© Kp Nunez  Create an image from this poem.

The Virgin

A surly old maid
had an urge to be laid
and bemoaned her virginal status
with life discontented
her plight she lamented:
"'tis not easy to live without coitus."

A scheme she invented
got polished and scented
tweaked her pointers to swing more voluptuous
with a rose-scented blanket
and aphrodisiac banquet
whisked her beau to the beach to be fructuous 

Clad in scant mini
whence peeked her bikini
bent on bidding her cherry adieu
purred words mildly profane 
wined him champagne
dined him fare with venereal value 

To hone his libido
entrèed on baked avo
oysters, scallops and honey-glazed almond
lips enticingly luscious
sucked asparagus
sneaked a look if what matters had hardened

As was he, she became cocky:
ogled what was now stocky
with no inhibition she fussed and she flirted
our virgin opened her mouth
with one hand down south
loosened a knot and lay there unskirted

Decidedly heady
her lover was ready
to pick her rosebud unsoiled hitherto
her lush lips he fingered
where he lovingly lingered
to prepare for their kissing debut

With a bolt sat upright
said, his voice somewhat tight:
"Your mouth is a pit of infection.
I swear I was keen
but your mouth lacks hygiene
foul breath made me lose my ********."

The Lady In Black

Smoke comes off the chimney tops
Trails behind the breeze as the rain drops
Hurdles under the clouds to seek shelter
Disappears in the vapor of a darkest winter

Snapped under my coat I ran to shelter
My steps tracing the trail of glass
Sweat dripped down my palms elevated
I lift my knees and walk agitated

Took a second to notice, a scarf hanging
Neck loose, head bottled, scalp dangling
Cold breath sneaked up and down my neck
As the lady grasped sight of her final dread

My gaze slid under her skirt
Her undone hair and bloody shirt
All climbed to intertwine juxtaposed above
Merciless, spineless, slithering gloves

Ice-clawed eyes stared back in horror
Hands clenched in fists flagrant in color
Put a finger on his lips and whispered
A tone that struck my nerves unhindered

Speak a word and you're next
Don't put my patience to the test
Walk away, disappear, 'cause if I find you
You'll pray that god take you before I do

I couldn't hesitate twice abt walking
Suddenly, he cringed and started falling
Branches broke as his neck followed behind
Snapping backwards, dispersing his spine

I slowly walked over and found a note
To whom it may concern, sloppy hands wrote
I am but a victim, of this woman's throat
the day she stabbed me, the day she spoke

I'm but a lonely spirit roaming free
Why has this lady followed me
To murder all that I loved and once cared for
To sweep off the little things I'd die for

She was Lady Death,  the one we all fear
Seductively laying us to eternal rest
Drove me to heaven, doors slid clear
Her arms wide open, her warm loving chest

Then to hell I went for my earthly deeds
The torture I've seen for all those years
And you're next in a line of slaves
A queue of misery, a farm of graves

Your eyes have seen a deadly charm
Life as you know it is far long gone
Prepare for a sinfully long run
Here she comes, load your gun
© Ziad Gadou  Create an image from this poem.

Waking Up Without You

The sun sneaked through the curtain,
And lightened up the place,
Where you'd normally lay your head.

And as I lay alone, beside you,
I can almost feel your breath,
Upon the back of my neck.

I drag myself into the day,
And for a second I see you in the mirror,
Sitting on the edge of our bed.

As I walk into the bathroom,
I hear you call me from the bedroom,
But when I look, you are not there.

I laugh at myself,
In the kitchen,
As I put back a second plate.

I feel the warmth of your arm wrapped around me,
As tears full of my love for you,
Fall from my face.

Premium Member Sheep of the Apocalypse

The sundown shroud of evening fell
To settle on the city's wreck
Of buildings broke by wicked spell
Called by fate's destructive beck.

And from afar they saw the shapes
Stark, bleak against the red sunset
The ruined outlined cityscapes
Unknown misfortune met.

The country folk had little need
And rarely ventured to the smoke
But still they could not but take heed 
And wonder how those buildings broke.

So, from afar they wondered at
What strange calamity befell
The city that had been so great
But what they couldn't tell

A strange flock from the west emerged
The sunset blooded red their fleece
Had some uncanny demiurge
A flock of demon sheep released?

But, no, they were just simple sheep
That somehow seemed to be astray
Unanswered though the questions creep
To where the flock had been that day

The strangest tales are oft untold
And sealed before the tale's begun
Since they had sneaked out from the fold
What dark deeds had those sheepies done?
© Lee Leon  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Affair

“I think I’ll go out,” the husband said.
The wife let it slide for about a half hour.
Then she asked, “Where are you going?”
There was no reply, so she walked into the living room.
Immediately knowing. 

He had sneaked out, being careful to make no noise with the latch.
She knew what that meant.
She had him on a strict diet, and a locater application.
She got on her phone and looked at it.  
Immediately knowing.

As she suspected he was at the Donut Deli down the road
No doubt eating the things he was never supposed to eat.
He had had so many affairs with sweet, fried things.  
She got on her coat, determined to stop him.
Immediately knowing.

Premium Member Darren

The day had started normally and no way had I reckoned
when Mum had washed the breakfast pots that stardom was to beckon.
Waiting on the pavement, passing dogs who were not used
to what they saw, jumped up and barked- their owners looked bemused.
Total strangers,  pretty girls, the driver of the bus,
they all queued up to talk to me and some made quite a fuss.
The older folk asked how I was and Mum told them I'm healthy,
the younger ones with phones in hand sneaked up and took a selfie.
A nurse though rarely raised a brow when we walked through the door,
a veteran of lads like me she'd seen it all before.
In A&E* she commented "Lad, let it not be said
you'll ever be short of company with a saucepan stuck on your head".

(*A&E- Accident and Emergency)
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Candid Camera

Fat Santa sneaked out of the shop
With bags full of sweets and a cake
The salesgirl screamed out: “Call a cop!
That man dressed as Claus is a fake!”

* - * - * - * -- * - * - * - *  
A Funny Christmas Themed 
4 liner Poetry Contest
Hosted by Tania Kitchin
         Placed 2nd
© 29th December 2021

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