Best Snit Poems
I glanced out my window watchin' kids plod along to school today.
I recalled my school days and how things have changed along the way
I watched the little fellers hunched over with their over-loaded packs.
'Tis a wonder the little dudes don't develop a twitch in their sacroiliacs!
I wore overalls and shoes that I was told by Mom I'd better not scuff!
Nowadays, kids are sportin' Rebok shoes and all kinds of fancy stuff!
If they don't have the latest and greatest, they're bound to pitch a snit!
Appearances mean everything even to kindergartners, on the face of it!
To begin school in days of yore, I was required to supply a pot of glue,
Couple of No. 2 pencils with erasers, ruler, ink and a ruled pad or two.
Wrapped in a newspaper for lunch, a baloney sandwich and apple for a snack.
When my grandkids showed me their list of supplies, I nearly had a cardiac!
Included were - a backpack, Rigatoni noodles, crayons and composition books,
A cell phone, calculator, protractor and for reading, one of those fancy Nooks,
Facial tissues, scissors, a ruler, colored pencils, pencil sharpener and erasers,
Elmers glue, Ziploc bags, a ream of paper and plastic dividers to use as spacers!
One change of clothes in case of accident to include underwear, pants and socks,
Disinfectin' wipes, three-ring binders and a padlock for individual locker locks!
I am caused to pause and ponder how we "oldies" got a solid education,
Sans all the geegaws and fancy frills that are now required for graduation!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Gussie Moran, a tennis star,
Created quite a stir
When she wore lace-trimmed underwear,
Created just for her.
In 1949 this was,
On Wimbledon’s staid courts;
The British folk were scandalized,
According to reports.
Designed by Teddy Tingling,
A tennis pro and Brit,
The all-white skirt (above the knees!)
Had newsmen in a snit.
They said she brought “vulgarity”
And even, more so, “sin”
Into a sport that prior
Only let the proper in.
Along with her obit, there was
A photo of her wearing
These very clothes; to us, today,
They’re anything but daring.
But bravo to this fearless gal!
Her charms she did assert
When she gave fans at Wimbledon
A shock beneath her skirt.
A magic mirror told the queen that Snow White was the fairest in the land!
This put Her Majesty in a terrible snit and to the woods she had her banned!
She hired a hit man to have Snow White slain but he'd have none of that!
He let her go and she trudged along a path and came upon this run-down flat.
She rapped upon the door and hearing no answer stealthily crept inside.
Snow White had never seen such clutter - such a mess she could not abide!
She grabbed a broom, mop and pail and began to swab and dust and sweep.
Weary from her labors she climbed the stairs, found a bed and fell asleep!
The unlikely denizens of the little shack worked in the local diamond mine.
'Twas a 'Grimm' looking lot wending their way home through towering pine.
Dopey the younger, Doc the intellectual, Bashful, he with the coy pose,
Drousy Sleepy, crabby Grumpy, pudgy Happy and Sneezy with finger to his nose!
The little munchkins arrived home to find this beautiful creature in their bed!
She awoke rubbing sleep from her eyes, stared in disbelief and nearly fled!
Eventually, Snow White became a mother figure to that chaotic, motley crew!
She tucked them in bed, cooked their grub and settled beefs when fisticuffs flew!
Each morn the dorks shouldered tools heading for the pit to earn their dough,
Singing a quaint song they made famous, "Hi ho! Hi ho! Its off to work we go!"
Mister Disney made this classic film in 1937 when I was but a mere child!
Even today in my dotage, watching it with my grandkids, I'm still beguiled!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Tied for First Place in Linda Marie's "Disney" Contest - August 2011
When you look at me, you immediately form an opinion.
Your inconsiderate opinion is more often a wrong one.
You look down on me as if I were a bum or a stray.
I was born here, and this is where I will always stay.
It's like this: you think that I am timid and defenseless.
You also think that I am both scratchless and toothless.
You roll your eyes at me as if I am clawless and clueless.
You are certain that I am ready to run at the drop of a hat.
Yes, I sit on a cushy couch against a soft snit-covered pillow.
What you don't know is that I am prepared to protect what's mine,
and I will fight to the death for my portion of this couch which is
the entire sofa. You may look and stare or even come in real close.
You may even pretend to be a photographer and take pictures of me;
but you may not sit or even touch any part of me nor this sofa.
In case you missed something I just said, let me put it another way.
As you can see, I am clothed in a beautiful black and white fur coating;
and there isn't a trace of any other colors. There is nothing 'gray' about me.
I'm 'black and white', as plain as the light of day, and I mean every word I say. So I beg of you to hear me well. Stay out of my way, and everything between you and me will be okay.
10212017 PoSoupContest, Personification Poem, Tania Kitchin, 1P
Early morning on the road,
Babysitting duties call.
Traffic outbound's mostly light,
Heading to the suburbs' sprawl.
Suddenly, it all slows down;
On the GPS, a flash -
Point three miles up ahead,
There has been a major crash.
At a standstill, we are trapped;
Nothing really we can do.
Even with the updates, we are
Stuck in lane without a clue.
Not a siren to be heard.
Not a horn, impatient, honks.
Every driver is resigned
To extra minutes in the Bronx.
Inbound cars are flying by
Yet we suckers sit and sit,
Trying hard to take a breath
And, hopefully, avoid a snit.
All in the surrounding cars
This morning share an equal fate -
Even though we left on time,
Each of us will show up late.
If I were to write to my sixteen-year self
And pass on sagacious advice,
The first thing I’d say is to worry much less,
For stressing out comes with a price.
And problems when young hardly count much at all –
I would cry for a slight or a zit.
Imagine not making the cheerleader squad –
Just the thought would get me in a snit.
Yet how could I know, at the age of sixteen,
All the heartache and sorrow in store?
Would there be any gain in alarming that girl
Who knew nothing of horror or war?
Who, oblivious, never’d encountered disease
Or the pain of decisions gone wrong?
To that knowledge, she couldn’t begin to relate –
Such awareness just wouldn’t belong.
So to sixteen-year me, what I’d pass on is this –
All your problems should not make you fret;
For the future is waiting and you’ll be surprised
How such worries you’ll quickly forget.
Embrace opportunities – make your mistakes
And follow the path to the truth.
I’d let my young self wallow in the mundane,
For that is the province of youth.
December 21, 2012
For David Williams' "Hello/Goodbye Contest"
I'm short and most costumes don't fit
Halloween found me in a snit
But I have my answer now
I just comb my long hair down
Add glasses and I'm Cousin It
Written for the Halloween Costume contest
King 'Enry of The 'Ouse of Tudor ruled merrie olde England, the mighty and the meek.
'E was quite obese in 'is elder years and threw 'is weight around - so to speak!
'E governed from 1509 'til 1549 when 'e expired and began 'is eternal bourne.
Though 'e slept around a lot, nary a male heir for 'is regal throne was born!
With virgin maidens and other guy's wives, 'twas a promiscuous life 'e led,
Though 'e eventually wooed a strange assortment of royal wives to 'is bed!
'E 'ad six of 'em, which would've left even the most virile of men in a daze!
'E soon tired of each and 'e dispensed with them in various and sundry ways!
Both Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard were destined to lose their 'eads!
Catherine of Aragon and Catherine Parr died of mysterious causes in their beds.
Jane Seymour and Anne of Cleves died from natural causes it is said as well.
'Twas rumored that 'Enry played golf as bells tolled each of their deathly knell!
'Enry got in a spat with the Pope of Rome which resulted in 'is excommunication.
This involved among other things 'is cavalier attitude in matters of domestication!
'E got in a towering snit and formed the Church of England as it is known today.
This 'ad all of not so merrie olde England in an uproar but 'Enry 'ad 'is way!
'Enry ruled with a fist of iron - serfs and gentry as well learned to toe the line!
'E died due to an old jousting wound and 'is fondness for food and wine!
'E was only fifty-five when in Windsor Castle 'e was laid out in repose.
'E was sent on 'is way with great pomp and ceremony as the olde saying goes!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 15 in Deborah Guzzi's "Sista's Bloody Sista's" Contest - October 2010
She is not a small cat.
In fact she is quite, quite fat.
There is a black box on the floor.
She pokes it, sniffs it, eyes it and more.
I think she thinks she will fit
but I shoo her off in a snit.
The box holds pens and small stuff.
Not meant for this bag of fluff.
I just know that when I rise
a cat will be in there 'fore my eyes.
Big of butt and small of mind,
if she thinks she fits she must be blind.
She is a dear but not too bright
to try to squeeze in a space so tight.
No, she is not a small cat.
She is, oh she is, quite, quite fat.
08/01/2013
single syllable poem
Sometimes things just don't turn out.
Sometimes things don't fit.
Just the way you hoped they would,
But don't get in a snit.
Try to make the best of things,
Just the way they are.
It may not be just perfect,
But for sure it's up to par.
You worked so hard, you did your best,
Left nothing up to chance;
But don't judge the day by what you reaped,
But by the seeds you plant.
If you plant smiles instead of frowns,
You're sure to get back cherries.
Plant some hugs and kisses,
And you'll get a bowl of berries;
But stomp and snort, plant anger,
Discord and irritation,
And you'll get back no sweets my friend,
Because you plant vexation.
Joseph's pop gave him a multi-colored coat that put his brothers in a snit!
They became so outraged that the eldest bro suggested tossing him in a pit!
Praise the Lord! He was rescued, ended up in Egypt and had the last laugh!
Joe found favor in Pharaoh's eyes and was promoted to be his Chief of Staff!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I was around fourteen when the charms of girls began to beckon,
And I was about fifteen when I had my first date, I would reckon.
'Way back then there were certain rituals that must be observed,
Some of which left me quite baffled and somewhat unnerved!
The evening must be perfect so I wore a suit and tie.
Shoes were shined and greasy Vitalis to my hair I'd apply!
Peach fuzz was plucked and I fairly reeked of Old Spice.
The car was washed and waxed to further her entice!
This too was her first date and things must be just right.
She'd had a snit with her Ma thinking her hair was a fright!
But she looked divine in her hat, gloves and flowered frock!
Her Pa's parting shot, "You git her home by ten o'clock!"
When I called for her I daren't sit and toot the horn.
That would've heaped upon my brow her folks' eternal scorn!
So, I meekly sidled up and timidly tapped upon the door.
Met by her scowling Pa who said, "Who's this skinny boor?"
My grandkids tell me there's no such formalities nowadays,
And wearing jeans and mutilating body rings is all the craze.
I'm told a great date is to hang out with friends at the local mall.
I guess I was born too soon! I just don't understand that at all!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Entry for Frank H "First Date" Contest
The book was dull.
I took it with me for a walk.
Guys at "The Station"
thought I was being a jerk.
All I said was it’s hard to read in the dark.
Should have gone to "The Edge"
or "The Snit," any of the sad bars around.
I wasn't picky.
I almost got my ass kicked.
People are touchy about their looks
Especially around a guy with a book.
But his look
wasn't dull. Or so I thought. I want to paint you, man,
the young stud said,
dragging his hand in the dust.
You're a painter?
I had a paint set as a kid
but no friends to play with.
Left it in the closet
where mother threw stuff
I’d stopped using ‘til I became skilled:
Golf clubs, a fiddle, a mitt, and so on.
I never found my little brush.
Everything was fine, until my parents said
I should leave. She’d help me pack my bags
as long as I didn’t disturb my father. He
was too busy shouting
until we were old enough to know why.
He grew a beard, wore rings on every finger,
and ate napkins dipped in vinegar.
When I took off,
they sounded like I’d committed treason,
but I know they knew the reason.
I miss them every time the sun goes down
and I play pinball in my head.
Book and I’d just as well be left alone as I told them at “The Station.”
We lean on each other when I walk home.
Aren’t books funny?
Kiddies, I'm sorry to say that Santa may be visiting you late this year,
As he struggles to circle the Earth spreading his delightful cheer!
Santa had to retire Rudoloph and his friends leaving them much aggrieved,
And long-suffering Mrs Claus is in a snit and left sorely peeved!
It may be New Years Day before he arrives, but he'll visit you eventually,
So place a snack of cookies and milk or salami and cheese 'neath the tree!
That old grinch in the White House decreed that dear old Santa's sleigh,
Henceforth, must be battery powered, to be effective on this Christmas Day!
Alas, Santa must land every 350 miles or so, the battery to refresh!
(Hopefully, he can do this in such unlikely places as Bangladesh)!
No longer will you hear reindeer hooves dancing on your roof in the snow!
But be patient, little ones; Santa will greet you soon with a cheery ho-ho-ho!
It's a wonder young children still turn out all right
With the stuff that gets crammed in their heads every night.
Things like visions of sugar plum fairies and sprites,
Or a thousand tales of Arabian delights,
A frog who turns prince with a kiss from a lass,
A girl who goes dancing in slippers of glass,
A cow that gets high and jumps over the moon,
A crockery dish that elopes with a spoon,
A boy who can fly but refuses to grow,
A difficult girl who plants maids in a row,
A magician who wants to trade old lamps for new,
A woman so poor she must live in a shoe,
A waif who sells matches out in the cold,
A king who can touch things and turn them to gold,
A dog, an old woman, a cupboard that's bare,
A girl locked in a tower, a ladder of hair,
A magical wheel that spins gold out of straw,
A guy helps a lion with a thorn in its paw,
A girl wearing red visits grandma who's resting,
Finds a wolf in her nightdress and Granny digesting,
Three kids and a wardrobe, three men share a tub,
A brave tailor kills seven mean flies with a club,
An archer makes merry with men in the woods
While relieving the rich of their money and goods,
Kind huntsman, fair princess, a vain evil queen,
Seven dwarves, and a prince who gets caught in between,
Hateful fairy, a baby, a hundred-year snit
'cause her name's accidentally left off a guest list,
A piper who lures out of town rodent varmints,
An emperor with new but invisible garments,
A farmer's wife butchers three handicapped mice,
A house drops on top of a witch who's not nice,
While another with gingerbread children seduces
Then gets baked by some twins in her own savory juices,
A giant and a beanstalk, a cat who wears boots,
A wolf who's outfoxed by three pigs in cahoots,
A bad little boy who sticks fingers in pies,
And another of wood whose nose grows when he lies.
There are others, of course, far too many to mention,
But I hope these will serve to excite some attention.
With stories like these knocking 'round in their heads,
It's no wonder if kids toss and turn in their beds.
Yet throughout countless ages these stories survive,
Kids listen, and dream them, and still wake up alive,
No worse for having been charmed or affrighted,
Imaginations are stoked, little minds are ignited,
And continue to hold them in dear veneration
As they pass them along to the next generation.