Best Toity Poems
Puttin on the Ritz - Just for You
Remember when I used to be dead broke,
and everyone laughed cause my dreams were a big joke?
Well I married a rich fellow and I’m rolling in dough.
Now I’m puttin on the ritz – it’s time for my show.
Visiting the old neighborhood, I’m sure feeling grand,
showing off my chauffeured Rolls Royce just because I can.
Watch me strut ‘cause I’ve been blessed by Lady Luck;
while you’re still frying chicken for a measly buck.
Oh, forgive me for I don’t always like to gloat;
but do check out my genuine animal print fur coat.
It’s no secret that Neiman Marcus is my main go-to store,
providing me with designer hats, purses, shoes, and more.
As for my fabulous make-up, make-over, and hairdo,
well they cost much more than you earn in a month or even two.
I see you’re ogling my sparkling jewelry and accessories,
Dahling, they were purchased exclusively from Tiffany’s.
Like leading ladies, Lombard, Rogers, Garbo, and Garland,
I ball room dance and jive to Callaway, Ellington, and Armstrong.
My oh my, indeed this lifestyle can make one become so giddy,
while gliding and sliding to these tunes can be quite heady.
I know jealousy is considered really uncouth and uncool,
but in your case, Sweetie, go ahead, it’s actually okay to drool.
Oh please note, my dear, I’m only passing through,
from Lenox Avenue back home to hoity-toity Park Avenue.
So for now, I'm here puttin on the ritz - just for you!
08-25-2015
Contest: Puttin on The Ritz
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Placement: 1st
Categories:
toity, dance, money, society,
Form:
Rhyme
As Miss Luby watches from her window
a moving van backs up
the driveway across the street
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
its warning cry has a beacon-like effect
on the neighborhood
arousing interest from all corners
everything suddenly shaken awake
Even the squirrels stop, stock-still
save an occasional flick of the tail
Miss Luby's cat, also
watching from the window
pauses momentarily, paw suspended
before continuing to clean herself
And one by one, the other inhabitants
invent clever ways to investigate
without seeming obviously interested
Miss Luby's next-door neighbor, Fred
flits outside to water the plants
in his front flowerbeds, distractedly
soaking the sidewalk instead
While dotty old Mrs. Pappadopoulos
puffs along, pulling her little Pomeranian
up the street for a “walk”
slyly turning her head, rather owlishly
as she passes by
Silvia, Miss Luby's other next-door neighbor
is still in her housedress and can't go out
so she sends her three beastly little boys out
to play, knowing they will get the inside scoop
and sure enough, within forty-five seconds
they have accidentally-on-purpose
sent a toy airplane across the street
and spend the next half hour retrieving it
following the new neighbors
in and out like so many
playful puppies
Not to be left out
of the hullabaloo, the hoity-toity
housewife from two doors down
high-steps out to size up the new arrivals
over-casually strolling with
her beautifully bundled babies in tow
putting on quite a show
suddenly disappointed
realizing they're just common-folk
not the kind she wanted to know
All the while, the new neighbors
exhausted, amble in and out
of their new home
staggering
under stacks of small pieces
lumbering along
awkwardly lugging larger ones
A teenage boy
silently glides past on a skateboard
giving side-eye to the boring, middle-aged
couple- as he is nearly hit by a car passing by
driver distracted by the moving van
Categories:
toity, community, humanity, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
My Rhetoric Rhapsody
Oh! I am a Poet
It’s me again pretty poet of the century,
Breaking through till I reach mercury.
A pretty poet with popping phrases,
A poor poet with perpetual personality.
Praying that my poems pulls out pieces of pleasure,
Arouses interest, motivates and inspires.
Oh! I am a Poet
Who teaches as he preach
On every inch that becomes a cliché
And leaves your ears aching when reached.
Who frees frozen feelings of Refugees.
Who unfolds fundamental mysteries of false phenomenon.
Who washes and enshrines shameful ships on a sea shore,
Assuring Sheppard of Shelter by Lord Krishna.
Oh! I am a Poet
A rock solid hardcore poet
Self proclaimed Fundi
A super duper verse creator
A self sufficient professor
A prodigy not a protégé
A dictator not an agitator
A toughie not a roughie
I don’t recite to hear myself talk
I don’t talk to be noticed
I don’t take Hobson’s choice
Nor hobble to a hoax
I don’t settle for a bird in hand
Nor crawl for half a loaf
My reaches exceeds my grasp
My wishes akin to my riches
My poems are my pillar
My wits are my tools
No hocus pocus for my hoi polloi
I’m not a hoity-toity poet who scribbles down hokum poetry
My poetry is impalpable,
Inexplicable and impeccable.
My creativity is infallible.
My verses so impregnable.
I am an imperious poetic licensee
I am a rusty epic epidemic through youth poets’ wannabes,
A penurious poet who indulge in perilous peripheries.
My masterpiece is not some common handwritten handiwork on handkerchief.
I craft them like a handicapped handyman with no haphazard!
And this is my Rhetoric Rhapsody...
See, when I rhyme my rhymes that hum like hymns
And step on my Poetic Stiletto heels to find open minds
And dine in a pile of my rhymes...
My mimes start to mime my rhymes
And this is a route where I quote that this is not over yet...
Categories:
toity, introspection, on writing and
Form:
Free verse
Hoity-Toity
La-Di-Da
existence desired
never able to obtain
the coveted lifestyle
high falutin pompous
arrogant attempts made
towards obtaining the
obscure illusive snooty
characteristics of the
desired social class
of the ritzy aristocract
sitting a top their thrown
looking down upon the lower
class of society
Categories:
toity, allusion,
Form:
Lyric
I live up here in Minnesota where season's have four names.
But sometimes just one is the reason to our claim to fame.
Right now the snow birds aren't our best friends.
And the snow is up to our rear ends.
I'll tell you true, this ain't no game. :)
Well in a month they'll all be back to show off their sun tans.
And on they'll go with with their rich show and hoity toity plans.
If I sound bitter, what can I say.
It's been a harsh winter, last year until May.
But I digress, at least I guess.
My heart's not quite that froze.
Although when I shoveled the roof.
Quite numb became my toes.
Rjr440
For the impress me with a small poem. Kinda failed. :) With the short part that is.
Categories:
toity, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Thinking of retiring my limerick pen
Replacing it with a hoity toity pen and then
If y'all get on your bikes
And take proverbial hikes
Maybe I'll just go back to writing limerick gems
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
toity, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Where does one find humour?
Everywhere one looks... at least I do
Others may not see it like me
But maybe I'm just built differently
I was blessed with an oversized giggle gene
It's certainly not a bad thing I guess
Could have turned out to be a serial killer
Often thought I may have missed my calling
But I guess I'm a wee bit old to be starting a new career
So I'm really sorry, youse guys are just going to have to suffer
"Did you hear the one about the... "
Sorry! I promise to make them more sophisticated
And post only hoity toity type humour like
"Didst thou hearest the most recent humorous episode chronicling..."
Holy crap! That's really snotty!!!
© Jack Ellison 2014
Categories:
toity, humor,
Form:
Narrative
I've traveled from the farm in Indiana, the place of my humble birth,
To places I never dreamed of seeing all around this earth!
On ships, trains and airplanes visiting fascinating ports of call,
And dining in hoity-toity eateries, more than I can ever recall!
I've dined on such exotic dishes as Beef Eterhazy and Athenian Moussaka,
Nasi Goreng, Halibut Cheeks, Paht Thai and Linguine Bugatta;
Linguine Primavera, Mahi Mahi, Lobster Thermidor and Cordon Blue,
Canard a L'Orange, Chateaubriand and savory Fillet of Wahoo!
I enjoyed those epicurean delights, but they'll never compare,
To the simple, wholesome dining on good old country fare!
I salivate thinking about a heaping plate of cornbread and beans,
With a salad on the side of fresh garden picked lettuce greens!
I drool just thinking about a hearty meal of meat and taters,
With stuff fresh from the garden like sweet peas and 'maters,
Home-made oven baked biscuits and heaps of fried chicken.
Ah, the very thought makes my old ticker begin to quicken!
Just to contemplate a repast of Bermuda onions and fried liver,
Gets my mouth watering and sets my old bones aquiver!
May you enjoy your Pate de Fois Gras at the country club;
I'll settle anytime for good old nourishing country grub!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
toity, food, funnyold, garden, old,
Form:
Rhyme
For William and Laura Nance
if the jabberwocky were a clock
would it talk in jabberese
or simply be right twice a day
in order to sometimes please
what if ants were big as horses
and horses could take to wing
would the meadowlark, lark or
perhaps the songbird sing
if the songbird did decide to sing
would it be bass or baritone
oh, yeah, the hoity toity thing
likely to sing and dance alone
if the bull horn bellowed long
and the fog horn fumed a cloud
would the dog bane bite and the
Johnnies jump up before a crowd
would your blankie snuggle close
when the wookie is on the bed
and fly you back to never land
on pixie dust coated gingerbread
I intentionally left caps and punc out
of the poem for a more child like effect.
© Jun 8 2011 Charles Henderson
For Deb's "Go Ask Alice" contest
Categories:
toity, fantasy
Form:
Quatrain
We (me and the missus)
live in a decent
accommodations low income
quite modest rent,
which facility lacks no shortage
of gossip mongers
with mail delivery the major event
many old people smelling of unguent
faux superman thumping chests nsync
with hooking thumbs around
suspenders feigning to be affluent,
and self important as former
triple secret double agent
yeah, minus the snitches,
the one bedroom apartment
at highland manor ranks
as most satisfactory ascent
to appease our taste, and
general environmental ambient
aspects compared to other
housing situations of ours
so, despite most every nosy, ancient
snooty, hoity toity...tenant,
particularly one butch herd gal
with a cock eyed louey, facial accent
a perfect spectacle for circus big-tent
single bucked sharp front tooth
sparkles, mocks, glistens...
as if brushed with Pepsodent
of course displayed "FAKE"
seventh heaven-sent
friendliness, when poor us
near being penniless with only tencent
experienced a warm welcome
a short time after moving here
but demeanor thereafter went
postal - stamp ping like the dickens
as if yours truly an unrepentant
sin nurse stir jokester,
nonetheless minds hateful words adamant
lee averse to cast aspersions,
cuz a friendly gesture linkedin
with my preference to be cogent
practicing what this atheist doth silent
lee preach, sans attempt tubby tolerant
in the face of someone belligerent
attentive to mine credo, dogma, ethos...
while alive in this world be tolerant
of others, whether he/ she wuzzent
pleasant still recalling days of yore,
I felt disgusted with myself when hell-bent
to hurl expletives (adding insult to injury)
if somebody bad mouthed me,
thus object lesson not requiring fervent
fanatical religious fervor
plus gluten free and NON GMO
improving health of Clark Kent.
Categories:
toity, adventure, atheist, class, community,
Form:
Free verse
"toity poiple boids,
dehd upahn da coib,
noh muh chiopin or
boipin,
or eatin doity
woims..."
I found a dead
sparrow this
morning,
sideways on the
stoop,
strangely unblooded,
gifted by clever
cats,
it fed my morning
reverie,
always heavy on my
shoulders,
in the early frozen
hours,
of frost's last
gasp,
my damp spring
mantle,
as I cling to a
fading memory,
of my father and his
voice,
slow step and aqua
velva,
now etched in lonely
stonework,
small words for
larger deeds,
and look at the
small sparrow,
with its lifespan
like a handclap,
and wonder if a
creator,
so vastly beyond
time,
just got bored with
forever,
and thought for
shitz'n giggles,
I'll make frantic
mud men,
amok among creation,
with half-lives of
remembrance,
lasting only as
whispers in wind,
or one (maybe two)
generations,
if our names are on
a label,
or painted into
frames,
hung in plush
hallways,
ignored by
commuters,
too busy dying
themselves,
or just one of the
unlucky ones,
who bleed out on
front pages,
and wonder to
myself,
as I drag the last
few gasps,
from my cigarette of
choice,
if I'm the cat,
or the sparrow.
Categories:
toity, life,
Form:
Prose
No sooner than we set foot within said domicile
attestation to so called gentleman’s’ agreement with guile
initially infrequently, but incessantly as time elapsed Isle
never forget (nor will spouse forgive) with rancor and rile
ceaselessly besieging, bruiting bare-knuckle skirmishes
for us to remove ourselves and personal belonging with vile
lent vitriolic wrath from the day we decamped
within hoity -toity Mainline –
our matted unwelcome would endure for quite a white.
* I * S * I * N * G
With hindsight and accumulative less cloudy fifty shades of gray,
an irrevocable clear er voyance viz summoning forth would lay
an irreconcilable rift (rivaling the Mariana), and constant nay
saying presaged an emotional price to pay
whereat we deterred sale of vintage crystal balls – our stay
purported prevented sale of precious heirlooms – oye vay
in tandem to estate sale divvied up, cuz we whar in the way.
* I * S * I * N * G
Analogous to Little Red Riding Hood, we could not see
blitzkrieg, cannonading, incessant strafe carpet bombing re:
bloody onslaught from the generation of elder vipers que
endured feeling trapped by memorabilia meant nothing to me
* I * S * I * N * G
Warfare found us hunkering down within said tract housing unit,
a fusillade fired off re: porting volleys of character assassination
bombarded this unfortunate civilian clearly implicated to whit
for being a non jewish schlemiel inducing endless economic
denigrating calumniations – fulminating against this “twit”
we decried wicked, vicious, unwarranted abuse would not quit
with no defense against slings and arrows, a plague round
of ceaseless, ferocious, and insidious pilloried that pit
pendulous injustices for each of our **** (emphatic branding
per diem me own scrawny gluteus maximus to git
the hell out – eventually hiring a lawyer with eviction edict!
Categories:
toity, abuse, anger, anxiety, conflict,
Form:
Looked down to where my manhood should be
Expecting to see something grand
But for some strange reason I couldn't find it
As I unzipped when reaching the can!
My little charmer was certainly there yesterday
Well, I could have sworn that it was
Must have gone toity three or four times
Saw a glimpse of it amongst the fuzz!
As I strode passed by my full length mirror
Grinning and checking my physique
This thought ran galloping through my brain
No longer is my physique at it's peak!
So getting back to my manhood again
Is this a real common phenomenon?
Knowing the damn thing's down there somewhere
But ain't seen it for so very long!
Think I'll wrap it up in a humongous red bow
When I find my sweet charmer again
But don't you go worrying all my good friends
I'm sure it'll show up in the end!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Reposting this on the recommendation of a certain P-Souper!
Categories:
toity, funny,
Form:
Quatrain
A peeing machine, a peeing machine
That's what I've now become
About every two hours like clockwork
It's off to the toity I run
While making a speech at a banquet
Right smack dab in the middle
That old biological urge rears its head
And off I go for a piddle
Considered installing a porta-pottie
In every room of my house
It sure would make a whole lot of sense
Especially when I get soused
It certainly becomes a hairy affair
When I can't undo my buckle
So I just enjoy the cozy warm feeling
Stand and piddle and chuckle
A peeing machine, a peeing machine
That's what I've now become!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Categories:
toity, humorous,
Form:
Quatrain
sheets of light from times that’ve passed &
(patterns of events
that try to circumvent)
clichés dancing ‘pon the looking glass
(original overcast clouds
placing bets upon the rent)
where places drift along the sea
(introverted romantic something somethings
being labeled criminal)
as Dali’s clocks did drip & tease &
(whilst the hoity-toity high society harlequins
are dubbed seminal)
from the egg his wife did come
(merely chatter, merely filler,
merely wasted time is found)
along the beach a silent song
(when original tunes are ignored
for those tramping round the town)
a place to run when problems come
(be them neon, be them glitter,
be them televised in the day)
insanity claims the sanest ones
(nothing molds so well so to exploit,
better than the softest clay)
still as the snow covers all the tracks &
(full of figureheads & liars getting up to the pulpit
to say their piece)
all one’s life’s packed in a sack
(like genitals on the slab
seething sores & bearing yeast)
the quicker all the lot is done
(telling torrent tales of tortured lands &
faces they’ll never know)
the sooner death for everyone
(using everyone as bargaining chips
just to gain a few more pounds)
but is the dream one’s having now
(smoking cigarettes to bear the look
of some hollywood glammy putz)
any different from a walkabout?
(streaming show suits & ill-gotten gains,
twisting, turning in the lutz)
another clue, another quiz,
another care for an idiot.
Categories:
toity, life,
Form:
Free verse