Best Woody Poems


Premium Member Woody Wouldn'T Cheat, Would He

Toy Story characters argued ~ then Jessie told Woody to buzz off

he'd been caught flirting with Bo Peep ~ uh oh, Woody, you're in trouble deep

Jessie said she was leaving ~ couldn't get over Woody's deceiving

oh what a terrible end for the two ~ makes me want to cry, boo hoo

can Woody end his cheating ways ~ Jessie doesn't trust his word these days

he knocked on Jessie's door ~ but she said not to come around anymore

Woody tried to confess ~ Jess wasn't going to fall for his BS

Jessie slammed the door in his face ~ now Woody lives in total disgrace

Buzz and Jess are dating ~ Woody's in need of rehabilitating
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Empyrean Collaboration With Tom Woody


Gossamer wings display angelic quality 
Empyrean dragonflies surround her
with ethereal ambiance
and with trailblazing elan
a bardess takes flight, 
stirring our muses to
greater heights

Poetic princess with a golden pen
her true beauty lies deep within
she's an empress of empathy
compassionate toward all
equinox moon goddess
glowing white bright,
bleeding ink

               ~Collaboration with Tom Woody
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Pet Poems, Woody

My Pet Poems, WOODY

Not long after our heart-stealing beauty
Watson passed, Jim drove me off from
The breeder’s and I sat in the passenger seat
With a cocker, colored a light maize/vanilla,
Cupped in my palms on my lap, while we
Discussed what to name him.  He was 
Our peace, to be our joy after the pain.
Alert, turning his head to note our voices; and
More comforting, like nostalgic times past,
Like a loved sweater kept for Saturday’s, or 
The splendid fedora my dad kept placed just so
Atop his Chinese cabinet.

We called him Woody.  It fit.  Happy pup,
One dog even Jim’s mom adored, as
She offered to dog-sit and bought him
A stuffed monkey that he took 5 years to
Tear up, with only the squeaking head left.
It was playing ball that Woody loved.
Not even to walking with us in the park without
Scouring all over baseball in-fields and outreaches
For any and all balls he could find, at times
Eagerly perplexed about how to 
Fit two in his moth at one time, which was
Much easier with tennis balls than softballs, but 
The geometry missed him, making
 Him huff laughs, while he kept trying to fit them.

Cocker’s hair grows long and, then, we
Couldn’t afford a groomer, so I’d trim him myself.
Once when he was older, I nipped him.
There was blood and I wept with apologies, until,
I’ll never forget, I learned from him on that day
About forgiveness.  For he seemed to say,
Licking my hand, “What’s wrong, momma?
No harm done.”  He comforted me.  Not I, him.

If ever, there were a case to be made
For God sending us
Some angels in the form of dogs, 
Woody was one,
Bringing love, lessons, loyalty, and laughter
— as dogs will do it — dear boy.  Miss you.
Play ball!


—————————————————————————————————
(c) sally Young eslinger 2021
Thanks be to God


Premium Member Woody the Woodpecker Continued

* This is the continued story from my Haiku ...Where is my food? About Woody the Woodpecker. 


So, hungry Woody the woodpecker was yelling at the empty feeder for food:
Clearly that day, he was not in the greatest mood!
I was held up with a health issue, so a friend went to buy the suet block
I am not sure what happened, but he picked a box of many in stock!
Then, the cashier couldn't ring up the bar code, you see...
And imagine this...gave this long box to my friend for free!
I was surprised I ended up with a box of 12 suet blocks inside!
So no worries now, Woody has plenty of food to replace outside!
He talks a little different tune, when he arrives with food there too
                    - I take that as a happy Thank You -

Heidi Sands 

11/3/22

Elmo Hit Woody Woodpecker

Elmo Hit Woody Woodpecker


Woody Woodpecker was going too fast he hit dust
When Elmo ran right after him in earnest eager must
Oh my, oh my, that was a real wild hit and bad image
Too bad for Woody Woodpecker looked like a squashed spinach.


Written Aug. 20, 2015
Theresa Marie
© Theresa Cw  Create an image from this poem.

Woody Woodpecker

Woody Wood-Pecker


Does anybody remember the cartoon Wood Wood-Pecker?
Always used to laugh, do, play and sing to say so what the hecker
The show sure did last
He surely did fast
And did you know he’d really never and pick at your pecker.

Written: 1/30/15
Theresa Marie
© Theresa Cw  Create an image from this poem.


And Woody Herman Played

Blues in the Night.

A malignant moon
shines his metallic claws -
combs my hair and brushes me forward.
I am alone in the shadowy crooks 
of a poisoned metropolis.

A clandestine garbage chute -
where waifs and strays burn
within the fetid bowels 
of a cavernous concrete underbelly.

The orphanage awaits my arrival,
as muted outcries are crushed 
beneath my footsteps. 
A parentless prison
teeters atop Utopia's dreaded brim;
the hamlet where Orwell slew Hilton.

St. Peter has been released
and no longer tends the kitchen.
Agony and angel wings reneged
a redundant brotherhood of sorts.
His recipe for remorse shall be missed. 

Blues in the Night.

In the distance, 
feigned epileptic outbursts
placates a patron's fears.
Caffeine injections

stimulates another's venial sins
as it magnifies their cardinal options.
An insomnious woman converses
with a napkin holder. The surface

is dull and unreflective, like she.
Banter never-to-be heard
by her never-to-be gentleman caller.
I am home –
amongst the dead I adore.

A haggard waitress serves me a menu.
A laminated journal stained 
with melancholy and mustard.
Desolation and demi-tasse
are tonight’s midnight special.
Ten cents additional, if you order deluxe.

Blues in the Night.

I twiddle my thumbs 
for I have no other’s to borrow.
I catch my rugged reflection 
in the asylum’s window.
I espy my counterpart again

in a twisted spoon -
realizing I’m three utensils short 
from a grievous quartet salted
with Mack Sennett misfits.

A collection of dishes clatter
above the sanatorium’s jukebox. 
I place my spoon on the counter
and pick up a lifeless knife.
I envy its potential and possibilities

as Woody Herman croons 
in the background.
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.

Old Man Named Woody

Old Man Named Woody


There was an old man named Woody
Always asked himself if could he?
he then walked lots
then smoked two more pots
he couldn't get up and stood-he.


Written: Oct. 30, 2015
Theresa
© Theresa Cw  Create an image from this poem.

Winter Woody

There was an old man in the nude,
His wife was a bit of a prude,
As winter got chilly,
He played with his willy,
And asked if she’d rather be screwed.


For Andrea’s contest
© Jack Horne  Create an image from this poem.

Woody Allen Blues

The man is funny as hell 
        But is Nazism something to laugh about?
I've run into iit 
   Believe me it wasn't pleasent 
        Remeber the T.S. Eliot line "Oh you who turn to windward 
 Gentile or Jew 
     consider Phlebas who was tall and handsome as you"
  Well I have considered Phlebas 
      and realize the story 
           is going to end 
No one is without fault in Jewish theology 
Even the mightiest of kings 
I'm not without fault 
    Just sent $10 to the Simon Wiesenthal foundation 
Hope it does some good

Woody

In the bar he’s cracking jokes
Making fun of other folks
Knows he’ll end up in the garden
It’s his choice and not a hard ‘un
Mobile rings he’s got a text
“It’s the wife, she’s really vexed”
The barman rings the final bell
“Another drink?”  “Oh! What the hell”
Woody’s drunk (a nasty habit)
Tonight he’s sleeping with the rabbit
It’s something he don’t relish much
To spend the night inside a hutch
But bunny keeps him warm and snug
Just like a furry rabbit rug
He’ll sleep all night and in the morning
Wakes up scratching, farting, yawning
Creeping like a little mouse
Makes his way into the house
Boils the kettle, makes the tea
“Hello my sweet, it’s only me”
© John Fenn  Create an image from this poem.

Woody

munching with my mate
   buxom burgundy berries
   autumn pigeon date



( I have a red guava tree which the wood pigeons love, eating 30 berries in one go - just swallow after swallow. Usually leave all fruit for them.)

Premium Member Woody the Woodpecker Continued Again

So, Woody was happy with the arrival of 12 blocks of suet.
He wasn't yelling anymore at an empty feeder, when he came to it.
But then suddenly,  a new problem came about...
Something stole not only the suet, but the whole feeder hanging out!
Yes, a thief was taking it away during the night...
But, who was the thief? The squirrel or bear out of sight?
I kept searching the yard to find it and bring it back,
While Woody was yelling at me as if I had done the thief attack!
At the end of the day, I brought the feeder inside.
Then, one morning the culprit decided not to hide!
Down the corner of the porch, there was the squirrel, carrying it away!
I scolded him and put it back up with a better nail that day.
When I left home the next day, again it was gone!
This time I couldn't find it anywhere in the trees or lawn.
Then the next day, the bear was walking across the backyard hill!
Making me wonder, were they both now having a thrill?
There is still no feeder, now Woody gave up for now...
I've been busy, so no new one and the old not found.

Heidi Sands

11/13/22

Premium Member A Woody With a Hoodie

I once trick-or-treated...goodie, goodie! 
I had wore, a sock with a hoodie 
People were all so surprised 
When they all had realized 
I was walking around with a woody

Premium Member Driving Home Woody

Everyone seems ashamed of their nudity
I blame it all on the mayor of prudity
BUTT if she weren't so plump
she'd be flashing more rump
and more men would be driving home woody

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