Best Stumpy Poems
Some folks call me a sausage dog
I think they couldn’t be meaner
It’s not my fault I’m long and short
And look like a misshapen wiener
I’ve got four stumpy little legs
So my tummy is near to the ground
My owner’s take me for a drag not a walk
Guess that's why they named me Cigarette!
01~16~15
Contest: Dachshunds – Rob Carmack
~awarded 9th place~
Premiere Contest #13 sponsored by SKAT
Categories:
stumpy, dog, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
I could be strolling on a river bank,
or sitting in a managed park.
I could be walking on a saltbush plain,
or where soil is parched and stark.
I could be climbing Perry sand hills;
be shaded by a Wilga tree.
I will never be there on my own -
we’re still in contact; you and me.
I could be gazing at a rainbow arc,
or clouds billowing to rain.
I could witness lightning and thunder;
stroll on a sun drenched plain.
I could see a stumpy tail upon the tar;
a mob of grazing kangaroo.
I will never be there on my own -
we’re still in contact; you and me.
I will never be there on my own -
we’re still in contact; you and me.
We talk about adventure that we had -
it seems I’m talking to nobody.
Categories:
stumpy, bereavement, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
‘I rant until i tattle.’
An old man said to me.
With boulders brass in battle
For Country, Queen and sea.
Lest not aghast a fattie,
Good heavens or abode.
We cannot simper- EVER!
For mighty frog or toad.
My clumbus, brood and brattice
Have left and faded dim,
Yet i shall stay with Stumpy
For clopper, clop and Jim.
Discounting Morris Upskate,
A ginger by default.
He keeps us musing nicely
For peace and calm revolt.
Take up thy stripy cornflake
And all who sail within,
And use the little peabus
For losing, draw or win.
And with a hanson blackie,
We clubber what we sow,
Go barphing like a windmill,
For friends we do not know.
Categories:
stumpy, funny, hilarious, humor, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Limerick crochetés: Portrait of a Dead Brit Nazi, Lord of the Lollypoppians
Part One
Once an uppity man from Poland
Wed a stumpy wench from High Golan
Result: mangy mongrel
Was no way you could tell
His front from his toady tail-end
In Broughton raised as Mancunian
For his stature was Lilliputian
Sent up to hot Eton
To become smooth Briton
Of hoi polloi he nursed low opinion
There at the clubby institution
Three thorough-breds of noble distinction
Chased him in quadrangle
Stuck dildos up sockle
In his hock-filled mouth sans elocution
Lacking shining past in his pedigree
Made him mug up facts in history
Shot up into Oxford
Father grandeur afford
Marks and shillings through frilly lingérie
At New College what spoke most was money
Free drinks all around and clothes so horney
So things ran with his ilk
Reeking of mothers’ milk
Ere going down he rode high and pretty
Once down he was not down and out either
With free hand in till of his step-mother
In book trade old mongrel
The art of the scoundrel
He made much of his blithering litter
Dreamed day and night of the House of Lords
To rub knees with the Chancellor of Boards
Stuffed Labour coffers cash
Stood for Commons: whiplash
Injury by hoi polloi on records
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
stumpy, satire,
Form:
Limerick
He gnawed on his resentment
In public and alone
Like a dog he kept on worrying
The marrow from the bone
Till he gave himself an ulcer
Till his teeth got small and stumpy
Till other dogs said, Hang on, Fang
You’re starting to look grumpy
He wouldn’t leave the thing alone
Just wouldn’t let it lie
Time to put the bone down, Fido
Go on, try
by Gail
Categories:
stumpy, anger, conflict, dog, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
"What we've got here is a very serious language barrier, not mine!
Let me introduce myself, I'm Tricky, a Doberman Pinscher and a thoroughbred.
My Dad Mick, clever, thinks he can talk to his pets, whatever!
He has two, yes, me and a cat called, grruf, T. C.!
Oops, he is coming, he mustn't know I write and talk too."
"Tricky, good boy, were off walkies", "Dangling my lead in my face.
A few happy barks, bark, bark. plus I wag my stumpy tail,
were on our way, so happy, I was hoping to the park,
the only place Mick lets me off my short lead, great fun.
I try to indicate my desire but no, the river, head down.
Saw a duck, made a lunge in the river plunged, cool water!
Could not believe my luck, no, didn't get the duck, Mick flew"!
Put Yourself In the Doberman Pinscher's Paws Poetry Contest, Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
07/18/18
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Link A https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cB9pVJ3mYcE
Categories:
stumpy, pets,
Form:
Personification
I fell in love with a tree stump
It’s five foot two and lovingly plump
Wood is my life
My wonderful wife
I clean the splinters in me teeth from her rump
Categories:
stumpy, funny
Form:
Limerick
Red, short, and stumpy
Ready to go any time
I'll hook up my hose
Categories:
stumpy, allah,
Form:
Abecedarian
There was a tree where I grew up
That I spent many happy hours on.
The swinging tire, the branches high
Ever filled my happiness cup.
The tree grew, as did I, to an older age,
It got too big to keep.
Who could have realized such beauty to be dangerous?
The house was threatened, as was the garage.
I had to have the tree cut down,
Its wood turned into pieces.
And each time I burn one of them
I think back, then my smile turns to a frown.
I could't cut it all the way to the ground,
So I left a mighty stump.
Every so often I will go and sit on it
And just take in the view aroud.
Now I have come to love that stump
Which supported my happiness all those years.
And though it's not the entire tree,
It is still a good sized bump.
I play hide-and-seek around it with my son
When we get in the mood.
He's learned to look for me around that stump
As a hiding place, it's my favorite one.
I'll never cut the stump all the way
I just couldn't do that to my tree.
For I love that stump just as I loved the tree in its glory
And I love it more each passing day.
Even in my advanced age and being so grumpy
I thought of giving the stump a name.
Then, watching "Rio Bravo" one night it came to me,
I would just call it "Stumpy".
Categories:
stumpy, childhood, fantasy, imagination, love,
Form:
Rhyme
There was an old cowboy named Stumpy
Who's laugh sounded just like a donkey
He smelled like a skunk
High noon he'd get drunk
And then with the ladies got frisky
Categories:
stumpy, western,
Form:
Limerick
the purple leaves
unroll their sleeves
to frosty days
and longing rays
the thorny twigs
and stumpy-pruned sticks
secretly hides deep inside
the summer’s petalled pride
but sap will rise
to cloudy skies
to meet and catch
the swollen rays
with skirt of thatch
a blouse displays
a hidden promise
of perfumed sprays
Categories:
stumpy, nature, rose, seasons, spring,
Form:
Rhyme
One tiny finger poking through the hole in her
happy kitten mitten
touching window frosting chill
delicate fragile fingertip
aching for the warmth
on the other side
~~~~~
Cooly folded.
One atop the other.
Elegantly cultivated confidence.
Quietly calm.
Resting art in their beauty.
Eternally in peaceful repose.
~~~~~
Grizzled grumpy and stumpy. Used
and useful. Scarred, calloused,
nails bitten to the quick and still
dirt finds its way beneath. And with the
delicacy of a hummingbird extracting its meal
from a bloom, clumsy mits gather a bouquet
of buttercups, tulips, lilacs, honeysuckle and tears
to lovingly place upon her grave ~
~~~~~
Frozen little nose joined
fingertip on window longing
chattering chin accompanies
quivering knees in the saddest tune
crumpling ...
Oh
Grizzled hands, loving hands
wrap kitten mittens in aching
longing
and gently carries her to the inside
warm.
Categories:
stumpy, hope, introspection, life, love,
Form:
Free verse
In village Taraigh
smoky limbs - gaunt grey
arms akimbo
twirl an' sweep from stumpy stacks,
peep faces from chimneys
to dark night falling
whilst 'draggled' owl cedes to instincts
navigation near done, over
from-by this old beast dying
was time
when ancients told
an owl's screech oft heralds
its sleep of fame full blameless
that the echoes
'cross valley an' path to peaks
play welcome to another world..
but nobody told
who unlocked the way to Great Tawny
there in the midst of Gharigh Bael
sits he a'bough
watching grime-grey shadows
seep midnight dark
eating holes 'bout mourning Moon's faint reflection -
hiding his face 'neath
sentry Sirius' soft wing,
feebly stretching
invisible path 'cross Sloulti tarn
this - his many years wise-royal realm
filled full to brim
of beasts a'plenty
of tales told of the heat of slate..
'.. avoid the rise
of the grey gasp born of earth
flames burned from northern old oak
once the rest of my night
the home of my love.. '
the poet heaves a solemn sigh
hears moans of winter come
crisping an' crunching
the sharp sheen of holly to raw rich silver
an' in a nearby coppice
trembles a proud full stag
holding tears at bay with sucking gums
remembering
the sound of his friend's wings sweeping space
in the dull of midnight
barley sugar stack loses helm
to the murk of smoke-smudged Monday
comes now
Basaillun Mort with song-smiling face alive .
an' - soft from velvet night
far beyond in the best of brightling space
an owl calls in woman tone
'Come lover mine, come fly.'
Categories:
stumpy, fantasy, love, myth,
Form:
Free verse
After the storm, my brother
(all gangly knees and elbows)
bore the brunt of its ferocious aftermath.
Every day after school
I watched his wiry biceps bulge a little
as his handsaw scritched against the tree
which had fallen diagonally across our front yard.
I witnessed the violence of metal on wood,
the violence of The King of the Mountain’s smirk
as he too watched, his greedy eyes
taking in my brother’s razor sharp collar bone,
with jaw set in furious concentration.
This imposed punishment was meant to goad my brother,
meant to tempt him to rage
so that the next time the stepdad slugged him
he would feel justified, holy even.
Kneeling on scratchy couch to watch
I scrunched my shoulders,
Folding into myself like an accordion,
gathering myself up to make of me something smaller;
I pressed my knees together
wrapping my arms around them
and lowered my head,
waiting for the sky to rain trees
with swollen trunks, and branches thrust downward
as if warding off a sickening impact with earth.
My brother, it seems,
must be punished for the crime of
his existence;
for this the stepdad’s eyes shone bright,
bright as the heavy duty flashlights
he begrudgingly loaned my brother
so he could work far into the night.
His eyes fairly burned with lust—
The lust of sadism’s glee.
I saw him lick his lips;
You’d have thought he’d conjured up this
Columbus Day Storm all by himself
for the sole purpose
of proving to my brother
that he had no right
to co-exist with him in the same universe.
I watched until my eyes burned
and my head ached dully
and my brother, sweating and chilled,
laid down his saw
swiped his arm across his forehead,
and straightening up, met my wary gaze
with the scoured look
of shame whittled down into hatred,
sawn away into stumpy pieces like an old tree trunk.
After the storm my brother cleaned up nature’s wrath.
He stood a little taller and his eyes, when they met his abuser’s,
burned unflinching.
After the storm we feigned memory loss
Pretended that nothing had shifted in our family dynamic.
We sat down to meals silent and repressed and picked up our forks
as if the stepdad hadn’t just won a major battle,
as if my brother’s days in that household were not numbered.
Categories:
stumpy, angst, brother, childhood, family,
Form:
Free verse
THE HAPPY HOLIDAY CHOCOLATE MONSTER
Her name was Maureen o Leary,
she could not get out of the house,
Her feeder was a man called Timmy,
He was as quiet as a mouse,
She had been bedridden for nearly three years now ,
It took her an hour to raise even a smile ,
Meal times were quite an achievement ,
And usually took quite a while,
Breakfast was two packs of bacon ,
A loaf of bread and two dozen eggs ,
It was Timmy who did all the running ,
No wonder he had such short stumpy legs
Lunchtime was three hours later,
Normally six fish and eight bags of chips,
Timmy would feed her so lovingly ,
Then kiss the grease of her fat hairy lips .
Holidays were never an option
Let’s be honest now where would they go,
Timmy driving round in his camper van ,
Maureen on a trailer in tow,
So their holidays consisted of chocolate,
And they used quite a lot I can say ,
A van brought it round in the morning ,
Then she consumed it all through the day
For a treat Tummy would bathe her in chocolate ,
Then lick it all off her skin,
Paying particular attention
To the pool that formed in her chin ,
This went on for some time
till her heart gave up from the strain ,
They tried but they could not budge her ,
so she was melted and poured down the drain
Categories:
stumpy, body, boyfriend, dark, funny
Form: