Best Whacked Poems
Me, my brother Tom and Uncle Pat were on a fishing holiday
three men in a rowing boat way out in Dublin Bay
we anchored up and cast six rods over a sunken wreck
hoping for the catch of our lives to haul onto the deck
hours passed with the floats just bobbing up and down
Tom fell asleep and Pat sat watching with a frown
a ferry passed by and the swell nearly made us capsize
as I held onto the sides Pat stood there with staring eyes
his float had gone and the rod had bent double
I woke Tom up and told him we were in trouble
Pat grabbed the rod and with all the strength he had
he struck the line which went straight down, oh man this was bad
the boat began to list quite far and water was gushing in
we started bailing out, but Pat held firm he stood there with a grin
he had a bite that was pulling hard the line shot under the keel
only one fish had the strength for this, it was a giant conger eel
Tom rummaged through the tackle and handed Pat a knife
we shouted ‘cut the line’ or this fish could take a life
but he heaved and reeled then shouted ‘get the gaff’
we saw his head and great big teeth and said ‘you’re having a laugh’
Tom grabbed an oar and whacked it’s head, the oar it broke in two
Pat’s foot was in the firing line and the eel snapped at his shoe
the eel it thrashed; we kicked and lashed the eel half out the boat
but the eel was having none of it and was going for Pat’s throat
the screams were heard by other boats who came to our rescue
the next we knew the eel was dead killed by god knows who?
a harpoon in it’s head stuck out and we were showered in blood
Pat saw blood gushing from his foot, then fell with a sickening thud
we climbed aboard the other boat, the eel it was their prize
we lost our boat and rods, half a shoe plus two toes, It’s the truth, I tell no lies….
© 21/2/2014
For Caleb's Contest...Now it has been judged I can say it is all true....
Categories:
whacked, crazy,
Form:
Couplet
Tom went to the ugly bug ball
Strange insects invaded the hall
Folks dressed up as fleas,
Cockroaches and bees
The smile on his face said it all
Tom hoped for a little romance
Asked a cute centipede to dance
She whacked him on the nose
When he trod on her toes
He went home in an ambulance!
7th April 2017
Categories:
whacked, dance, humorous, insect, romance,
Form:
Limerick
two bible-blabbering, prattling pastors
from two denominational sectors
ended up in stitches and bloody plasters;
those around said it actually began
when one yelled, "faith alone can save a man!",
the other screamed, "only charitable acts can!";
swinging bulky bibles, shouting curses,
they whacked each other's eardrums and noses,
bludgeoned and bloodied their righteous faces;
so ironic, how they maimed each other
for faith, for charity and didn't bother
to heed the Lord's words: "Love one another."
Categories:
whacked, introspection, people, social,
Form:
Terza Rima
So many trials seem to be filled up with so much fear
So many ask, “Oh Dear Lord, what am I doing here”?
So many questions that I have come to know
If we just plant a seed, with water it will grow
I have a natural green thumb that now is wasting away
Along with a mind that does love to go out and play
Times I still ask, “How did this all came to be”
What was it that my wife was able to see in me?
She says that my heart was the most beautiful around
It still blows me away, for I clearly remember the sound
Her voice was so soft, her tone was so sweet
I was nothing less than pure evil upon two feet
Had been years since anything had took me by surprise
Ice cold is what the rest of the world had seen in my eyes
I looked at her smiled and laughed in my cold convict way
She smiled and said, “Why you want to be mean anyway”
I told her, “I reckon we are all born to just what we are”
She said, “So why are you a dope cook instead of a star”
That question stopped me right there dead in my tracks
I thought, “This girl is a looker but God she is whacked”
Last night her and I sat out underneath the moon
Two very blessed souls swinging in our sliver spoon
Just a little swing we built together out in our back yard
Place to just sit back and rest after a day long and hard
I once again ask her, how in the world could you ever know?
“My Grandmother was preacher, I could see her in you soul”
Which led me to speak out my truth for I learned to not lie
"My grandmother was also in yours, answering the entire “Why”
Grandmothers we respected and held above all others
Brought each of us together in the land born of lovers
Two Grandmother Spirits full of pure heavenly delight
Led their grandchildren into the valley born of the light
Now here we sit holding each other, each other high above
Because we share in the blessing of our Grandmothers love
----------------------------------------------------------------
Toni and I had lost our Grandmothers before we had ever met
though I knew of hers because she was a very powerful lady
and a down home speak in tongues Pentecostal Preacher that
had great respect up in these parts. After all these years we
confided in each other that we could see our grandmothers in
each others eyes. Thank you and God Bless, MJ
Categories:
whacked, dedication, devotion, faith, family,
Form:
Couplet
My eager man bought me a wee thong
which I put on to best get along
but rubbing bugging attacks
soon whacked my fore and aft crack.
My pinged pong found his dingdonged thong wrong.
Categories:
whacked, body, boyfriend, clothes, funny,
Form:
Limerick
The Peace & Love Generation
Got whacked for their motivation
Now they know the score
There's money in war
That's why we're the richest nation!
Categories:
whacked, america,
Form:
Limerick
My sister persuaded me for a dare
to take the cushion off grandma’s chair
and although we knew it wasn’t right
we would use it to for a pillow fight
‘We’d better play outdoors’ I said
as Susie whacked me on the head
So we ran to play in grandpa’s field
until the old cushion began to yield
downy feathers, so soft and white
which made us whoop with pure delight
But grandpa saw what we had done
he scolded us and stopped our fun
Image 3 chosen
Rhyming Me A Poem 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
10/29/21
Categories:
whacked, children, fun,
Form:
Rhyme
Let Your grace shower me with goodness,
As evil thoughts haunts me with madness.
Spirits encircle me, seeking my fall,
I hold on, searching for the angle of light.
I was brutally surpassed by an oblivious man,
Whose self-righteousness proved to be his only plan.
My heart sank and drowned in the darkness of evil might,
Torn apart, devastated, losing my crayon light.
Distractions, destruction, and devastation; I fight my fight,
Unable to keep winning, instead, whacked in my sight.
May I, grow wings, and glide through the storm ahead,
Fearless, frustration-free, and devoid of any dread.
Crown me, oh Lord, with the halo of Your grace,
Allowing Your blessings to bloom and flourish in this space.
On the spotlight, behind my shoulders, always be.
For without You, my life is futile and incomplete.
I need Your guidance, love, and mercy to navigate,
A true Agile to keep my path straight.
Categories:
whacked, angel, hope, life, light,
Form:
Free verse
Tongues loose, tongues in a hangman’s noose
Wag without care to declare nonsense
As wisdom salvaged from the sluice
Where nonsense whacked common sense
Lost in a sea of error whose terror
Harmed victims concealed by protagonists who opted to promote
The cult of nonsense whose defence mirror
Plunged into reverse gears that chose to demote
Common sense when tongue waggers
Congregated in an occult cabal to upgrade gossiping skills
As though grapevine daggers
Staggered upper echelons of wisdom whose quills
Spilled reason in dark corners where tongue waggers shared nonsense seeds
Plus fertilizers of idleness and the icing on cakes of lies
Whose taste on tongues that wagged feeds
Total belief in naked gossip sties
Tied malfeasants together tighter
The better for them to wage war on common sense and desecrate workplace etiquette
Which is anathema to tenets of ultimate gossipers rate lighter
Than curses the wisdom ticket
That caught gossipers red handed munching grapevine beans
While sharing tins and pins of sins
For which gossipers scrambled when grapevine means
Came under close scrutiny when truth queens
Declared grapevines illegal in Wisdom Land
Where any culprit convicted of spreading gossip propaganda
Would be stripped of the royal brand
And punished for the gossip blunder
Committed without shame
To discredit the truth and integrity
In solemn worship of the blame name and claim
Would be sent to Coventry for eternity.
Categories:
whacked, poems,
Form:
Free verse
Remembering Mrs. Sully always makes my face break out into smiling mode.
Her face was as craggy as a grave, there was an aluminum tooth on the left.
When she smiled, it gleamed with pure happiness, making her stories even better.
When I first met her, her ferocious stories kept my gentle side terrified, for hours.
I thought she was the Hansel and Gretel witch, because she looked like my vision of her.
There was a unique smell around Mrs. Sully, an earthy, vegetable-type smell.
She was always in her garden, killing snakes, big black ones, with large mouths.
She relished showing us how she whacked them with her hoe, hacking them to pieces.
Although short, stooped over and old, she was a force no snake wanted to encounter.
Her stories were full of spit and vim, anger, and devilishly mean murders and such.
If you decided to share a story, she did not hear it, she did not pause if you wanted to talk.
You had to walk along beside her, acting like wearing two or three house dresses
over each other under a pair of overalls was normal, seeing the bibs and lace stick out like crazy.
Her expertise was incessant talking, not waiting for social cues or societal nonsense like that.
She knew about all the hangings that had ever happened in the county, and relished telling
About them in full-force detail, hoping to keep us on our toes, ripe with worry.
All you have to do is mention the words Mrs. Sully, and the old-timers smile, remembering
Those awful hangings, and what happened after the rope was yanked, because we all knew.
Sometimes I swear I see her in her old black hat, pulled down nearly to her eyes,
Stooped carriage, pushing a rusty brown wheelbarrow full of produce, from one farm to another.
We were lucky, our house was smack in the middle, so we would run out and hear the tale of the day.
She owned two properties, a block and a half from each other, one of them had goats.
If we were really lucky, she would have one of her mean goats on a little leash and we could walk our block with it, as it butted us with its angry head.
Rumors said the goats slept in the house with her. It did not matter to me, she was a character
I will never forget her, sometimes picturing that amazing aluminum tooth, which told excellent
Stories. Stories I do not dare tell my own sweet grandchildren, as they stay up too late already.
Categories:
whacked, character, hilarious,
Form:
Free verse
The tennis ball
Whacked over the net
Is whacked back again
Sometimes.
It is a tough leather that ball.
But this respiratory thing
That sucks the air from our lung
Teams against the self to win.
Now you are whacked
Over the line by it,
And to the cotton farm of Carolina,
And none can whack you back
Match point is for it
The ball is gone.
Categories:
whacked, people,
Form:
Verse
A Porsche squats by the side of the road,
keys tucked in the ignition.
We stare at the coupe with our salivating glands…
this devilish hint revving our hidden pleasure.
Slowly, slowly we cross the street
on impulse, Roy and I open the door,
gliding our bodies unto the pompous seats
as wheels start the trip, reeling like a breeze.
Not a soul in sight; this is a twosome joy ride!
With nary a conscience, we ram this big-time treat;
sliding a playlist right down metal -rock road.
Then, boomed a noise louder than the soundtrack
popping flamed lights, sirens in the distance…
oh, we just wanted some naughty fun;
but, men with badges are after us now.
The timing and urge for adventure, too brief
Our luck written on crisscrossed stars…
beneath flashy neon, we got whacked,
Roy and I hauled a thief’s runaway car!
Carol Eastman's Humor Contest
by nette onclaud... * from the perspective
of two young men, partly fictional*
1/18/2015
Categories:
whacked, adventure, fun, hilarious, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
The “Bad Witch of Oz” lost her throne
They weren’t gonna’ leave her alone
… the water was Fracked
… it’s how she got whacked
But … how many others aren’t known!
Categories:
whacked, abuse, corruption, environment, humor,
Form:
Limerick
A player whose name rhymes with Clooney
Got drunk and then drove - what a loony
Spent the night locked in jail
When released he looked pale
The outlook for him may be gloomy
He’ll get whacked with an enormous fine
But his club won't force him to resign
It would make much more sense
losing his road licence
and he stops drinking lager and wine!
Yesterday UK footballer Wayne Rooney got stopped for drink driving
09-02-17
Categories:
whacked, car, drink, football, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
It's gettin' late and
we couldn't wait.
Me and Ma just downed 12 cold beers.
It's seven o'clock
and we both are crocked.
And my drug dealer’s fi-nal-ly here.
My ole Dad’s a stinkin’ like
a skunk who’s been binge drinkin’
as my poor Mom slumps in her chair.
My sister looks hot
after smoking some pot.
I’m hoping that she’ll surely share-a!
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! –
C'mon and give me some medications!
I've had it with your saccharine!
Whoa! Saturday Night's alright for sleeping.
Getta little shut-eye in.
Gonna be as sleepy as Van Winkles brain.
Gonna set my clock – yeah, right!
Cause Saturday Night’s tonight, goodnight!
Saturday Night’s tonight – Goodnight…Goodniiiiiiight!
Woooooooh!Oooooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!
Well I’m whacked fairly tight
and feeling light.
Taking one more Percocet will do me right.
I may slug some Robitussin
and suck-in some weed.
Popping three more oxycontins will be
all I’ll need!
A couple-of-a drugs that are really keen
Are Sominex and Nytol
with doxylamine.
I'm a juvenile junkie who hasn’t any class
Watching Motrin PM tablets
fizz in a glass.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! –
C'mon and give me some medications!
I'm tired of potassium!
Saturday Night's alright for sleeping.
Getta couple Zzzz-Zzzz’s in.
Gonna guzzle Ny-Quil ‘til I feel no pain.
Pullin’ down my shades real tight.
Cause Saturday Night’s tonight, goodnight!
Saturday Night’s tonight – Goodnight…Goodniiiiiiight!
Oooooooh!Oooooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!
Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday Night, goodnight!
Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday…Saturday…Saturday!
Saturday Night, goodnight!
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
For: Mr. John Heck
Dear John contest - Elton John (music)/Bernie Taupin (lyrics)
Sung to the tune of: Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting
Categories:
whacked, funnyme, me, drug,
Form:
Lyric