Best Snuck Poems
'Twas the night before Christmas and their pages were bare
Not one word could they write, not one verse to declare
The Grinch had snuck in, and in one fell swoop
Had stolen the muses from poets on the "Soup"!
It was the thing that all poets dread
As visions of emptiness swirled in their heads
No syllables floated to fill in the gap
Some poets decided their contest to scrap!
Then on the blog page there arose such a chatter
Poets rushed over to see what was the matter
The blogger's avatar was just a red sash
She said she could get back the muses, for a large sum of cash
Many of the poets thought this was a trick
It was just a scheme to make money real quick
But in the blink of an eye another blogger came
He said that St. Nicholas was his real name!
Now Heidi, now Anne-Lise, now Andrea and Jan
They told us that St. Nicholas had a plan
To the realm of the Grinch where green snowflakes fall
St Nicholas would go and retrieve the muses for all!
In no time at all he took to the sky
And to the realm of the Grinch on his sleigh he did fly
As the Grinch lay sleeping the muses he withdrew
And to the Soup, again he flew
He delivered the muses to all the poets around
Poets started writing their words did abound
They wrote of angels and bright stars, and things that uplift
St. Nick had given them the muse as their gift
Then St. Nick called for all his reindeer
And soon he took off and flew out of there
But they heard him say, before he left the site
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good write!!
One Halloween night when I was five
Rain pelted city streets, we stayed inside
Dad lit the Jack-o-lantern candle
Told us the tale of a famous vandal
One “Headless Horseman” in Sleepy Hollow
‘Twas Ichabod Crane he chose to follow
Crane ran breathlessly, was terrorized
(At this point my father’s eyes looked wild)
Thundering behind him through the forest
The hooves of a horse and a rider headless
Carrying a sword to strike Ichabod
(Dad grabbed a spatula, swung it like a rod)
Not just we children but our mother too
Gasped at the thought of Ichabod pursued
High winds cut off our electrical power
As in our kitchen three children cowered
Orange light from the pumpkin’s evil eyes
Showed Dad seemed to have dematerialized
The youngest, I felt something run through my hair
I screamed aloud in horror and despair
The lit pumpkin fell from table to floor
Darkness as I ran through the kitchen door
Leaping into bed, pulling up the sheets
Dad snuck into my room, whispered, “Trick or treat”
So if you think I am a drama queen
Please realize that it’s all in my genes
Happy Halloween!
I know that I’m not perfect, just go and ask me wife.
At times she’s kind of said - I’m the bane of her life,
but on her better days she wouldn’t trade me for a thing,
and sometimes she has even thanked me for the ring.
Sometimes I overlook a mite and pile clothes on the floor;
leave a beer can in the lounge room or forget to shut a draw.
The toilet seat might be left up; grease in the bathroom sink,
and of course I cop a barrage - “Don’t you ever bloody think!”
I put up a slight defence I s’pose to save me on the skids,
I reminded her I’m not as bad as either of our kids,
but remarks like that cause suffering; the vote goes three to one,
so I had to do some crawling for the damage that I done.
The crawling that I had to do is behind their Mother’s back,
but once again a big mistake saw her leading an attack.
In a request for gaining brownie points I should have chose a cat,
but the kids insist they wanted me - to buy them a pet rat.
We snuck this rat into the shed and they both named it Brad,
but our female ‘Sergeant Major’ went completely bloody mad.
She really stuck the boots in; especially into me …
making promise of a firing squad if neglect soon came to be.
But both the kids then promised to satisfy their Mother’s rage,
that Brad will be looked after; well fed in the cleanest cage.
They pampered Brad for two months - treated like a king,
then the novelty wore off - Mum was doing everything.
So at the dinner table Mum declared she’d had enough.
Maintaining to our children that it has got too tough.
He’s too much work for one and because that one is me,
he’s going to have to leave and the kids did half agree.
Then Mother added furthermore, “I’m sick of his daily mess,
and right now I note he’s eating, and drinking to excess.”
Me eldest boy then quietly spoke, by adding “Mum you’re right,
if he didn’t eat and drink so much, he could stay is that right?”
Mum responded firmly, “Correct, he could stay for evermore,
if he had used better manners and cleaned his mess off the floor,
now go to the shed and grab the cage, and in the car put Brad …”
“Brad!” Me youngest ‘fella’ bawled - “We thought you said Dad.”
Once upon an ancient time,
in long gone languid days,
when distant misted myths bechanced
in lovely rhym'ed ways,
when time was so much freer,
less allotted to the minute,
‘twas then the mighty Big Mac got the gherkin in it.
The night was one made fit for gods,
and stars made white the sky,
and drunk, dylsexic old McDonald
sang Oh Eee, Oh Eee, I.
His greatest yet creation
sat on his barbie plate,
it was the mighty Big Mac with no inkling of its fate.
McDonald thought the pattie lacked
a certain...
Il ne savait pas.
He decided what he'd give it was this green thing from a jar.
But Big Mac cried out, ‘Hang about!
I like the way I am!
And I think that what I need the least is a prostate gland exam.'
McDonald growled, ‘Don't be a sook!
It's not gonna hurt a bit.
Just close your eyes and grit your teeth and keep loose where you sit.'
Big Mac firmly grasped his bun
and held it really tight,
he had Phallicvegiephobia and would resist with all his might.
But McDonald was too smart by far,
Big Mac was not his match,
the old bloke snuck up from behind to by surprise him catch.
Beneath an unsuspecting arm
he gave a little tickle,
the burger gave a little laugh and got a little pickle...
So the Big Mac we all know today
was born of subterfuge.
And although the gherkin in it aint really all that huge,
remember that it's only there
by the skullest of skullduggery,
and that bit we discard's the fruit
of midnight burger buggery.
I did not mean to snatch your heart
Like with the claw of a vorocious bird of pray
You fell into my unset trap
Speared yourself upon my harpoon
Which had only been hanging on the wall
You threw yourself into my way
stole my arrows and brandishing them with cupids blood
Punctured your heart without a thought
Other than the whisper of my name
You claim that I'm a siren
I've led you to your death
But it was the birds i sang to
Your name did not leave my unforgiving lips
With swollen eyes from crying
Filled with swirling colors of obsession
You beg to me and plead with me
Blaming me and cursing me
Claiming that i drug you here
Forgetting it was you who snuck in through my balcony
To watch me in the fountains
And listen to my voice
To see how the animals follow me
And witness how the moon becomes my robes
And the stars become my eyes
How the setting sun remains all night
Within the silk of my hair
how roses color my cheeks
In the darkness of the cold
And the world surrounds me
And the beauty of the light i behold
Where in this story did i bewitch you
Where did i make you call my name
Did i once respond or invite you to play a game
you claim i did this to you
When you only did it to yourself
did you enjoy your gaze upon the child of Cerynian
Did you think I'd become your obediant wife
When did i claim i loved you
How quickly you think of these blasphemous lies
Your not in love you simpleminded mortal
Your infatuated and in lust and your lust is a lie
Discarded in yesterdays trash
Cardboard boxes never last
New things arrive in them
Old things stored in them
Rotting boxes on a voyage
Leftovers to those with out any coinage
Tom O’Seary had come down on his luck
Just couldn’t seem to make a buck
An elder at church who snuck a shot in a lurch
Now he sleeps in the rain
Cardboard box umbrellas
His home and his pain
One cold winter day
Poor old tom was dead where he lay
Inside his cardboard box
Was his last writings and will and the lot
I, Tom O’Seary of no determined address
I write these words, for they are my last will I confess
I regret all the pompous ways I was an ass
I missed the meaning of the messages, thus I was crass
Now you will lay me below the green grass
I thought I’d be looking down from heavens gates of glass
I was wrong about that too, so wrong
I am just rotting here in the green green grass
My purpose in life may not have been clear
The irony of death is now I know what’s so dear
Live this life with kindness and love
Or else on your grave will be the droppings of white doves
I heard him close shut the attic door,
I snuck in and saw him on the floor.
He found the box that I stored away,
As I turned to leave I heard him say.
“Mom, could you come here for a few,
Whose badge is this and what does this do?”
Placing the hat on top of his head,
Come close my son I softly said.
With a saddened tone I lowly spoke,
Pushing words over the lump in my throat.
That box of stuff belonged to a man,
Who left one night with his keys in hand.
He heard his pager go off late one night,
He jumped in that suit and dashed out of sight.
To answer a call, not knowing for sure,
The dangers his heart would have to endure.
He’d always been brave right from the start,
And was a good man with a courageous heart.
He wasn’t a man like typical dads,
That was mainly because the job that he had.
That box of stuff is his way to pave,
The bright good man you’ll be someday.
Because in that box that you delved into,
Belonged to a man who looked like you.
If you can understand I’ve never known why,
Before you were born that man had to die.
I cannot imagine what he went through,
To save a stranger he never knew.
He faced a danger he didn’t deserve,
He gave his life to protect and to serve.
He wasn’t respected most of the time,
But still he laid his life down on the line.
With all this that I share this day,
There’s a few final words I’d like to say.
All the stuff that’s within that box,
I want you to know belonged to a cop.
There’s a lot of things he never saw,
He lost his life defending the law.
And one of those things that he didn’t see,
Was watching you become what you came to be.
You’re brave like him in the things you pursue,
I know he’d be proud of the life you ensue.
It’s been along time that my heart has cried,
I still remember the night that he died.
Much has happened since the night he was slain,
I think you should know that you bear his name.
Yes there are times that I still get sad;
But I want you to know that man was your dad.
So put the box up my little snooper,
Now that you know your dad was a trooper.
I was happily married, but there
was something I adored.
I couldn't resist the temptation,
of needing something more.
So good to feel on my warm
lips, I couldn't wait.
In the middle of the night, I
didn't feel guilty, or hesitate.
I snuck out of the bedroom, not
wanting to wake my wife.
My conscience didn't bother me,
as I dreamed of this, all night.
Quietly I went downstairs, for
my secret rendezvous.
Open the refrigerator door, and
had three scoops.
Michael Tor
You died so long ago
Everyone just walked away
No on even remembers you
You do have stories left to tell
So many stories no one may ever hear
Hidden behind little drawers
It would be great if someone snuck in
Checked out those little drawers
Opening one after another
Just so they can learn the stories
And bring a little life back into you
© Poem – XII/III/MMXXI
A little grey mouse
snuck into the house
to get himself out of the cold.
Then the house cat
Who saw where he sat
pursued him I am told.
The lazy old dog
who sleeps like log
was startled by the chase,
So she woke up
her own small pup
and they joined in the race.
My sister the baby
decided that maybe
she would give it a try,
She started a spat
And was scratched by the cat
and then she started to cry.
That’s when mom
called to Uncle Tom
to come and lend a hand,
With a straw broom
mom circled the room
knocking plants from off a stand.
In came my dad
and he was quite mad
because the house was in disarray
He was vexed
with what happened next
But it happened just this way.
Our two brave bowsers
chased the mouse up dad’s trousers
He thought he’d be safe in there.
Until Dad started to dance
with the mouse in his pants
Then he jumped up on a kitchen chair.
Mom smacked dad’s seat
and then came a repeat
And the mouse climbed out of his pocket.
Unseen by all
he started to crawl
into the wall through an open socket.
Later that night,
With no one in sight,
I put out a nut for the little mouse.
I had no hate toward him,
And I tried to reward him.
Even if he was trapped inside our house.
I told him my name,
And he did the same,
Then he stuffed the nut into his cheeks.
He said thanks for the food,
And I don’t mean to be rude,
But that was the most fun that I’ve had in weeks.
To Love My Only Daughter
By: Aidan Gilbert
I wanted to be the best father
To love my only daughter
But a cold war struck my blind eyes
Left my love inside in a knotted tie
This war slowly kills
And I don’t have a will
A will to fight against it
Because of that my daughter took the biggest hit
She was only six
And my life I couldn’t fix
I remember
On a cold November
I took her to her ballet class
And when she was backstage I snuck out to my car and hidden alcohol stash
I would come back and see her dance
See her on that stage prance
See looked at me with a huge smile and those big brown eyes
I had to step outside and cry
Her in her beautiful pink tutu
I’ll never love her like she wants me too
Lilly
Always said when I’m drunk I’m acting silly
If only she knew I won’t be there when the sky is blue
Or new
Only when the sky is grey
With this alcohol addiction I won’t change my way
And the worst of it is you can’t take the sting out of my heart
Because sadly I don’t regret anything from the start
What kind of man am I
To let my only daughter later cry
Because later she will see
The man I chose to be
After her ballet class I took her home
But in that car my drunk mind started to roam
It all happened so fast
It happened in a flash
I passed that red light
My mind was having flashes of us once flying a kite
Then we hit the semi truck…
We didn’t have the time to duck
I remember in that hospital room
I woke up too soon
My shame was hard to hide
I had lost all of my pride
I knew I might never see my daughter again
I knew I probably didn’t win
I looked over at my wife
Drained from her was life
She was shaking
Waiting to see if her daughter would be waking
From that day what I remember best
The doctor came in depressed
He said Lilly did die
I started to cry…
I knew I would never be to tell her I love her again or say goodbye
The pig overheard the farmers conversation,
talking about their crops and needing weather salvation,
the farmers saying "it'll probably rain when pigs fly!,"
to help out the pig thought he'd give it a try,
He wallowed out of his mud and snuck around,
to the inside of the barn not making a sound,
climbing up the ladder to the hayloft above,
he wished someone would help him by giving him a shove,
But then he cast all fear and anxiety aside,
with a running start he thought he would glide,
alarmed he fell down to the earth with a thud,
wishing he had never left the confines of his mud,
He was slightly bruised as well as his pride,
thanking God he had a pretty thick hide,
thinking wait till he tells his friends that are so dear,
to "not believe everything that you hear!"
2-24-17
My Fable~
~~~ A Day In The Life ~~~
Up at dawn and off to work.
Garden center today , that was a perk.
Watched two hummingbirds in mating dance.
Almost embarrassing but I snuck a glance.
With an hour to go I'd had too much sun
so back inside until the shift is done.
Long shift over, off to the store.
Milk and Chinese food but I still need more.
Stop at the liquor store for some wine
and now this day is turning out fine.
Dinner is done and nap time is now.
That hour in bed refreshes somehow.
Now open the wine and pour a glass.
In front of the T.V. I'll park my ass.
We single women are fine on our own.
You don't have to feel lonely just because you're alone.
Tomorrow... I'll start all over again
but this "overworked, underpaid" can be a real pain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my day today 16 /07/ 2015
(the sequel to A Christmas Story Told By The Dog)
Twas the night before Christmas just one year ago,
When we had that commotion outside in the snow,
With reindeer a-runnin' this way and that,
And a strange obese man in a red suit and hat;
Who'd snuck down the chimney of all the strange places.
Guess he thought that way he'd leave fewer traces.
The folks were at church, they were gone for the evening.
The house was empty, at least it was seeming;
But I and the cat had been left on guard,
And when he entered we brought him down hard.
I fastened my teeth 'round his ankle and then,
The cat screamed and scratched him from eyebrows to chin.
He screamed and he scrambled back whence he came.
As I grabbed his bahunkus he called me a name.
He made it to roof and jumped in his sleigh,
And the reindeer took off in a fast get away.
They hit some old lady out in the street,
Swooping low for momentum for a speedy retreat.
The house was a shambles, the front yard a mess,
And I'm sure that old lady felt less than blessed.
I sit here remembering one year ago,
And all that commotion outside in the snow.
All of a sudden I heard a sound,
And the cat hit the window in one mighty bound.
He let out a screech that sent chills up my back.
I can scarcely believe it but that sucker's back.
This time he skipped us and went next door.
Just wait till he meets their black labrador;
For he still remembers that terrible night,
And you can be certain he'll put up a fight.
Merry Christmas, Y'all
I was working for John Arnold fitting out some shower screens.
"Make sure you're wearing armored pants" had me wonder what he means.
Then he handed me an order form; John Booth’s house was my trip.
‘Boothys’ bloody heeler dog snuck up behind and gave a nip.
I screamed out "You flamin’ mongrel!" My tools flew into the air.
‘Boothy’ stood at the door and grinned at my immediate despair.
I quickly lifted up my pants and blood was flowing everywhere.
"I'll ring the hospital” he said - “Now you get on over there".
Sitting in outpatients waiting for a doctor to be free,
a nurse said I could be an hour. That really didn't suit me.
I wandered past the wards and said g'day to those upon their own,
then started yarning with an old bloke who also was alone.
He told me of his troubles, and all the pills he had to take;
on how he had trouble eating. How he yearned for a steak,
'cause now he's old and toothless; only soft foods tasting great,
then uttered "Eat these roasted almonds on this plate."
I gorged on them; they're beautiful, and they had that smoky taste.
He said "Go on and eat the lot, they'll only go to waste"
And so I did; fifty or more, then thanked him and said good-bye.
Walked back to the outpatients where the nurse came to my side.
"Where have you been?" she’s asking me, "The doc’s been calling you.
We thought you must have got impatient and decided to shoot through."
"Oh no" I said, "I’ve been yarning with an old bloke while I wait,
and I ate all his roasted almonds that he offered on a plate."
The nurse looked at me; her face went pale; like in a state of shock.
"You didn't eat them did you?" I said to her "Of course - why not?"
"His 'rellies' bring them weekly; they think he loves their little treat.
The chocolate ‘round them yes he does - those almonds he can't eat."