Best Stinkers Poems
Dreamers dream
Scoffers scoff
Thinkers think
And droppers drop
Artists create art
Writers will write
Beware of biters, yes they will bite
A smiler will smile
Still sometimes they'll frown
Although mostly happy
There are times they feel down
Laughers may laugh
Other time they will cry
Life ain't so easy
That's why tryers try
Stinkers will stink
Comforters will comfort
Listen to trumpeters
They really do trumpet
Listeners will listen
Talkers will talk
Movers will move
It's hard for them to stop
Shakers will shake
Steppers will step
You wouldn't be surprised
If a sleeper slept
Circles will circle
Back to the start
A dreamer dreaming
Creating his art
Dusted off for SKAT's contest.
The fishing of Scotland's coast
To be honest I have to boast
Please come take a look
And dangle your hook
And join me in traditional toast
My favourite place is called Dunnet Head
With many species it has to be said
One just dangles their line
Hey presto! see what you find
It's a bite, not the weight of your lead
But sadly there has been some stinkers
When the fish must have been thinkers
For many times we did try
In us they espied
Wasting our time dropping our sinkers
Unquotable quotes – VI
(Note : A good many of the « epigrams » in this sequence of quotes are a take off on other well-known short poems, proverbs, sayings or expressions faites, etc . The rest are my own epigrams.)
All the world’s a stooge.
Paint the town red with blood.
Swing low, Sweet chariot ! Coming to carry me on throne !
Turn the other back for a slap on the back.
Can you turn your nose up while sitting on your high horse ?
Finders keepers, Minders weepers !
Black holes also suck white souls.
A bun in the womb is worth ten in the oven.
Cleanliness is next to Godzillaness.
Garbage cans are not rubbish bins.
What goes up must bring Heaven down.
We are all stinkers under the arms.
We are all sewers under bums.
We are all lovers under mums.
We are all beggars under alms.
We are all killers under arms.
We are all believers under psalms.
We are all thinkers under norms.
We are all schemers under qualms.
We are all bribers under palms.
We are all runners under bombs.
We are all rotters under worms.
We are all liars under gums.
We are all swimmers under foams.
We are soldiers under uniforms.
We are all writers under thumbs.
One need hardly fear the extinction of Life on earth through environmental or climatic catastrophe : inter-religious contention will get the job done well before-hand.
Cricketing jargon
« Style mahu kala tida-apa ! » (Doesn’t matter if you’re given out so long as you managed to play the right stroke !)
This « tongue-in-cheek remark » in Malay pidgin is often used in Malaysia-Singapore to describe those batsmen who surrender their wickets in style, i.e., batsmen who are sticklers to the art of playing textbook strokes irrespective of whether the ball is engaged by the bat or not.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
" The Skunk and The Porcupine ... "
(From The Solomon Studies Series # 9)
(Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29)
The Skunk and The Porcupine
Both Are 'So Cute' Little Creatures
The Skunk and The Porcupine
Both Have Protective, Projective Features
The Skunk and The Porcupine
Both Scuttle By Like Small, Inquisitive Seekers
The Skunk and The Porcupine
Both Have Effective - Weapon Reachers
Tho' One Has Its Own Swords of Battle Quills
The Other Has A Gas-Arsenal of Biological Spills
We Walk Around Them Like We're On A Mine Field
and Either - Both Can Make Us Run For The Hills! ...
Tho' One's A Prickly Recluse and One's A Reeker
Man & Beast Give Them Room (like they're both lil' stinkers)
In A Way, We Bow To Both Like They're Little Caesars
Both - Show GOD's Ability To Endow Combat Ready Teachers
The Skunk and The Porcupine
Without Saying A Word - They Are Loud Speakers
And Now Thank GOD & Be Glad Your DNA Is Neither
... The Skunk and The Porcupine
Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/8/2014
by: MoonBee Canady
Grab your rhodes, your lines, your reels.
Grab your hooks, your swivels, your sinkers.
Grab your power bait, your worms, your stinkers.
Grab your tackle box, your cooler, your beer.
Pick a spot, cast your line, enjoy your friends, and have a good time.
Who’s on top?
Really,
You didn’t know that it’s a contest?
After all,
There can only be one
Poet Laureate can’t there?
Both’s fingernails are bleeding,
Both’s knees are scraped and scabbed,
Both sweating profusely from the strain
Of climbing the sheer rocky face of passion,
Their injuries mostly self-inflicted.
(All poets are born stinkers!)
Poetry is not a day at the beach
Where the only hazards
Are forgotten suntan lotion,
Or that your Mai Tai is low
Because service is not up to par.
Or a day on the golf course
Where your only gain is
A lighter wallet, which cannot really serve you
At your next Weight-Watchers weigh-in.
Apoplexy coloring your future
As yet another ball lands in the drink.
And certainly not a game of tennis
Where service is de rigueur, isn’t it?
Though I swear,
There is more Physics in women’s outfits,
(Action/Reaction - You know!
Do women ever play fair?)
Than in any momentum, spin, or angle
A man can even contemplate.
So who’s on top?
Ask the woman!
Does ‘top’ even matter?
She’s where she wants to be.
A man can only dream! Ha!
Brian Johnston
October 21, 2014
The modern Knight
The Knight of the realm ,
Was a great man of courage,
Who protected the people,
Got dubbed by the King,
The bravest of brave,
Moralitys brightest,
Loved by the people,
Now the rich mans plaything???
But it became some snobs, crass title,
Given to Kerrs, and curs aint the thing,
Class distinction, from above, call me mister or sir?
The greatest of toads, to serve the toad master,
Brown nose, hum dingers, billy stinkers, I ching,
Gee golly they call me mr or sir?
Right next to the saints,
I’ve risen old thing,
To keep me head down,
I’ll need on me bridle,
A martingale strong,
So me head doesn’t sing…
Don Johnson
THE ONE WHO ALLOWED 12 ATOM BOMBS EXPLODED HERE IN AUSTRALIA GOT KNIGHTED FOR SERVICE TO THE QUEEN:}
ONLY 12 THOUSAND AUSSIES DEAD FROM STRONTIUM 90 IN THE MILK, AND ALL THE LITTLE KIDDIES GOT IT AT SCHOOL TOO IN THE FIFTYS... I REFUSED TO DRINK MILK AINT I LUCKY ???
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHBLBkYiCK4
check it out if you don't believe :{
Thistledown wus his name and sometimes he stung, well actually his stem stung. The stinkers gave him a bad name, they did! Handsome wus he. Aye, the ladies loved him. Coming near to his full bushy head of royal purple pomp, thought he smelled good too, they did, bees to his honey.
Summer time was his time, the time to bloom. His thorns served as fairy swords. An', on mass, he an' his guarded the fey's mound. Thistledown kept the cows from trampin' the wee ones. An' the cow plops from offendin' the Royal's wee noses. No hoof falls made treacherous the field's lay.
Suren, he wus sharp this fine boyo. He did 'ave a soft side, a sure sweetness. When fall's goddess Mordron* brought the chill down, he softened. Queen Mab* sent fey to catch his whitened crownin' glory, as each strand, a silken treasure, soft fell and so, Ole Thistle lost his head, for from his crown, and its down, wur made sheets of silken softness for the Tuatha De Danaan's* beds.
*Goddess Mordron/Welsh mythology, Modron ("divine mother")
* Queen Mab of the Fairy
* Tuatha De Danaan pre-Christian gods represented as heroes or fairies.
[Tribes of the goddess Dana]
Women over 50 are Invisible
(according to one source)
But…isn’t that a superpower?
Please don’t notice me
wearing the same black leggings
three days in a row
Content to sit on my couch
trash t.v., pumpkin pie breakfast
Don’t listen to me
imitate British accents and slang
I glean from Love Island
Do NOT perceive me
walking the dog
in blue flannel p.j.’s
in a snowflake pattern
in July
Yes, I have tye-dye Crocs
which I am wearing
paired with socks
that show a hand
flipping the bird
But who cares?
I am invisible
It is my superpower
Five months ago
I began to experiment
not showing up
to mandatory meetings
I've yet to hear a thing
No repercussions
Thank you,
Invisibility
This also means
No witnesses to my poor behavior
No apologies demanded
no excuses needed
hot sauce dripped
upon ample breasts
slightly weighted down by
life well lived?
Who cares?
you don’t notice
and I don’t mind
Laughing in a movie theater
so loud I snort
among popcorn, M&M’s
and greasy fake butter
No one blames the old lady
in the same black leggings
now paired with a concert T
from Petty’s last show at
the Hollywood Bowl
I’m inconspicuous and
you give the stink eye
to the three teens
sitting to the left
Ha-ha! I bet
I could fart and
they’d get the blame
Lil stinkers
I could go on and on
about the beauty
the freedom, the sheer
sexy exhilaration
this covert, intangible,
obliterated existence offers
But I won’t
You wouldn’t hear me anyway
I am invisible
It is my superpower
12/20/21
Ten hut!
Can't let up
Even though, it can get messed up
Really F'd up
Do not get fed up
Keep your head up
Stay sharp, don't get set up
Careful where a disagreement ends up
Heads up!
Many fast to wet up
From the legs up
To the neck up
Bleeding out a color similar to Ketchup
The proof was there or quickly got swept up
Prices continually went up
Falling behind, because you never kept up
Get your bread up
Often in life you'll have to step up
Sped up
Engines revved up
Couldn't let it go, so they dredge up
Old news they spoke and penned up
But I did my homework and read up
So you're about to get shred up
You'll never surface, even after a check up
Kept mine, others went against their own word
Too late to sojourn
At the point of no return
Due to a slow burn
Often went through the wringer
You'd think I've been on Jerry Springer
She wants the whole world and a gem on her finger
Meanwhile around the corner death always lingers
Hit them with another zinger
Hook, line and sinker
As I continue to tinker
Ya'll can be some stinkers
I always put on a blinker
Soon to give up being a daily drinker
Becoming a complex thinker
Avoiding any gold diggers
Feeling vigor
It's time I'm onto something bigger
Don't need to reconsider
Even though many are quick to pull the trigger
People continuing to bicker
Remaining bitter
Known as a fibber
Caught up on twitter
It's been pleasant or gotten sicker
Going well or down the s***ter
Staying clean or full of litter
A whole nation hooked
Easily getting cooked
And forsook
They never caught on or looked
Strength, dedication and heart is what it took
Couldn't find it all from a book
Had to put each foot
Through miles of soot
By the end they were shook
Or tried to portray me as a crook
Not a big fan of dungarees
Getting tired of all this gluttony
Too much redundancy
And puppetry
Still living sucker-free
Yet another attempted to humble me
So I got the upper hand suddenly
Their soul the devil took custody
I continued on triumphantly
Cautious of who's around as company
She's just a tease
And he's such a sleaze
Try to touch my cheese
Then the trigger of a gun I squeeze
Doesn't matter if you run or freeze
Dear friend,
I am trying to master the ancient art of Almond Milking. It's quite difficult and my sweetie hasn't had a drink of almond milk in months. I started with cats to improve my dexterity, but they kept getting away and the little stinkers kept scratching me. The great thing about almonds is that they tend to be a bit more co-operative. I am hopeful that by Christmas I will have achieved my goal.
There is one question I would appreciate an answer to, how do I find the nipple? I thought it was at the pointy end and as I was simultaneously squeezing the ends of two almonds they shot out from my fingers. I was mortified when they inadvertently struck the buttocks of a lady police officer. She turned around with such blinding speed I was surprised...What surprised me even more was that she drew and shot her Taser. Ironically both leads pierced my nipples.
One last thing, do you know how I can get milk stains out of my shirt???
Sincerely,
Donald P. Thump
This piece was inspired by my friend David McKay after he sent the following email to me. His comment was the result of an earlier conversation about the scene in the movie "Meet the Fockers." In the movie Ben Stiller says, "You can milk anything with nipples." Robert Deniro responds, "I have nipples, can you milk me?"
David's email: Thanks for joining us. Nice to see you and Mary again, and remember Richard "You can milk anything with nipples" Lol!
Ttyl!
David McKay
Sent from iPhone
It is always at Christmas that I feel the spirits
of my family the most
and as I unwrap the Christmas tree decorations
that I inherited from my mother
and grandma I can hear them sigh with love
I touch the decorations like they were the most precious
things in the world
and the spirits gather to wrap me in a tender embrace
and it is wonderful, blissful, divine
until, one spirit lets out a huge fart
that one is father, for sure
oh, he could be a real stinker in life
and its nice to know he has not changed
in his heavenly realm
I can hear mom and grandma and grandpa
and my sister giggling
it is just like the Christmases of yesteryear
full of love and laughter
and my husband is quietly holding our baby boy
in his arms smiling (for they both RIP)
oh, even my sweet grandma used to let out
a silent stinker as she passed by
I would give anything to have my family back
(even with the loud farts and the silent stinkers)
_____________________
September 18, 2021
Poetry/Free Verse/Farts and Silent Stinkers
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1389-684-18
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Fart-tastic
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judged 09/27/2021
First Place
A s we
B lindly
C aress the
D ays that we miss.
E ach day gets harder
F or time will insist.
G rabbing the
H ands of the
I gnorant bliss
J ust as all
K indness and all
L ove is misD.
M iriads of angels display their
N trest with
O ctaves of sonnets and
P oetic riffs. Some
Q uestion pleasure with
R apturous twists.
S eem to destroy all
T he peace with a fist.
U su'lly we get
V ehemently pissed,
W hen haters and losers and stinkers
X ist.
Y apping and
Z apping and slapping their wrists.
A ntiques
Z oom
B y
Y ou better not miss.
(C atch!)
X amine the
D ents on the shooting star's
W ish.
E at of the fruit and you'll
V anish from this.
U cannot
G amble
T he worlds
H appyness.
S oon you'll accrue an
I mpossible list.
R aise up the bar since there is no
J ustice.
Q uestion the
K illing of
P eople
L ike this.
O h will you help us God?
M ary we've kissed
"N evermore," did quoth the raven, "You misD."
Though the house be untidy, let the grandchildren come.
They will give you the energy you need to get things done.
—Poet
every stinking time, let the stinkers’ feet
be found at your door, footprints adored
on sparkling floors - they shine
let bubbles decorate the air
kid’s smiles - they pop
every stinking time, answer their call
“Grandma…Grandma…”
they’ll exhaust your moniker
but enlarge your heart
they’re a gas, a godsend, a blast
Yeah, I know ~ my poetic output contains a fair bit of junk.
But then ~ even God created something called a skunk.
In the works of all unparalleled thinkers,
you can expect quite a few stinkers.
Most attempts at art never attain great heights ~
most just immediately go ~ kerplunk.
I don't take myself too seriously.
If ever I did, it was only deliriously.
I'm a straight, middle of the road kinda guy,
with an IQ neither too low ~ nor too high.
And as to whether I'll ever do anything significant in my life ~
please stand by.