Golf loving Paddy from sunny Glambole
was truly a gentle fun-loving soul
but he was a big bloke,
he took a well-aimed stroke
Sara the caddy yelled "wrong hole, wrong hole”
There once was a bloke called Aristotle
Who drank his ouzo straight from the bottle
His tutors were far from impressed
When he failed his Ethics 101 test
But when he partied it was always full throttle.
i'd just come in and made a cup of tea.
ten minutes later, i went to admire my work by the front window
that's when i saw him
he'd already made a start
he had pulled up the windscreen wipers
sponge and bowl full of bubbly water
fast-paced doesn't do it justice
washing, with mischief and energy
magnificently grotesque; a cunning, vacant expression
did i trigger this?
is this a coincidence?
i wanted to go and ask him
i went through the imagined conversation
but i couldn't do it
and i watched him groom the taillights
my wife hadn't noticed how clean our car was
i sulked at dinner, eating my
emotionally abused peas
for “The Stumble And Rise” Poetry Contest-Sponsored by: Jami Patterson
------
there once was a bronzed aussie bloke
drank way too much bundy and coke
danced with the beating drum
then fell hard on his bum
laughed as he said "I'm such a joke"
* bundy is short for Bundaberg rum-usually drunk with coke and is a very popular drink in Australia
His stash was spent.
No cash for rent!
Spoke to a bloke
from Blighty
whose wife
wouldn't wear a nightie
when she rolled over
he told me
her ankles were tangled
then turned back
her throat strangled
all the more
'I can't retire' she sleepily said
so instead she wore
bloomers to bed
A wizened boy who lived at seventy-two Oak
Relaxed in his tub with a lemon salt soak
Ate a curly pretzel, downed a harsh throat coke
An honest child who sprang from truthful folk
Dressed himself in a red and yellow super hero cloak
Flew around New York City watching for dangerous smoke
News of his heroism quickly readily broke
Giving some fame to this truthful do-gooder bloke
He saved a young girl who was having a choke
Convinced a teenager to give up a maryjane smoke
Chanted a spell pretty difficult to invoke
Created a talking frog who never could croak
If you meet this wizened boy at seventy-two Oak
Tell him his cousin Moke wants to give him a poke
This is a true story, in absolutely no way a joke
Now that I have shared it, I will go have a soak.
he sits in front of us with his family
nice touch but then it is evident from
his long pig face
that there; has been some foul play
the sweet woman welcomes us before
proceedings with a monologue of length
i stare at the seat in front of me
cake wasted and my wife brings a Coca Cola
the bloke is the first to applaud
the introduction with idiotic enthusiasm
and his son notices and they high-five
i should have brought nunchucks
the second half is boring
white bread stuff
my son is asleep
yawntastic
never move your eyebrows when talking
bizarre stuff
in fact, she'd never visited a golf course before
in fact, as i took my daughter to the clubhouse toilet
i held the door open for her
the contents of the coffee was
all over the floor
i hit my tee shot against the trees
and the ball ricocheted back onto the fairway
'Good shot!' my mother yelled
there was a lot of top of the lungs stuff
MASHED POTATOES
i shanked it
mammy chops and bunkers like thunder thighs
my daughter wants to sleep in a bunker
i want to throw my clubs in the lake
worm burners
and municipal memories
this was meant to be a love sonnet
i'll be your caddy
i love you flagstick
World has gotten far too awake,
Fancy gender issues to rake.
Sex, a matter of choice,
One follows inner voice,
As suits self choice, one bakes one’s cake.
A non-binary brick
Has broken old rubric—
One male-female that goes to make,
And woke, a brand new bloke,
Out, old order to choke,
Suffers deep slumber and can’t wake.
_____________________________________
Happenings |11.04.2024| Limerick, humour
Poet’s note: J K Rowling of Harry Potter faces a prospect of arrest in Scotland for having said: Many a transgender actually is man under the dress. But if Western World is so 'woke' as to suffer from chronic insomnia, India seems its Polar opposite, comparable to say Rip Van Winkle who slept for twenty years, or Kumbhakarna of Ramayana who used to sleep six months in a year. The last line of this ditty alludes to this fact.
He cracked a nice joke
But she did not laugh!
What next: her ribs poke?
No! That should be Chaff!
Or her cream hair stroke?
She’ll strike him a staff!
New wish is a yoke:
Dreaming of A Cloak
And – Yes – Strokes are wrong?
Their affair not long…
Knows he Ann wants Cloak
But it’s not Canned Coke
So, might he try jokes
He’d kept for rich blokes
And back go to coach
For more skills to soak?
he keeps saying it's
gonna
be a bumpy ride
but that's life
and all these spin-offs
about juggernauts
space fairies
and
helmets with no chin straps
riding in his
space cow
across the galaxy
i'm considering a chin-strap-beard
we are
one tonight
i explain to the human geography teacher
in the lounge
that i am a completionist
i don't just
watch some episodes, but finish the lot
he counters, "did you see every episode
of duck tales?"
the man is mad
the kids are going nuts
one almost keeled over
one inquires about the whereabouts
of the large-caliber pipe pistol
one gives the spheroid
a handshake and hug
the arm like an tartarean
eclipse with a surreptitious
star-nosed mourning
mole on the end of it
one gives the projectile
a high five, invented by a
basketball player with
four fingers
but what about him?
who is he under the
cycloidal velvet? how did
he get this gig?
did he expect models
draped over vintage tanks?
rubenesque ladies straddling
the missiles?
can he take the costume home?
who is responsible for it's wash?
does he put a cancer stick
in his touch hole in the car park?
does his lady-indoors
own a rammer?
he wishes the day would end
go home for a grapeshot
that he could be elevated
at forty-five degrees
and sent airborne towards
the automatic doors
he's been there doing that for
about twenty minutes
it's both palms on both
face pastries
he was here the other day
laptop in front of him
bopping and biffing
like in a boat race
chronic stress? enervation?
or giving the epidermis
something to think about
sod retinoids and clarins
maybe the brain is fusty
needs a few yawns too
like the sound of an alaskan
salmon against sham praise
is this the future? when i'm gone
on buses, trains, offices
a democratic spanking
there's a bloke in this cafe wearing a cape
a macabre, satiny number
who does he think he is?
no one brings it up?
this clobber
this kind of attire
who wears 'em?
the neanderthals?
wolverines with thick fur
sewing tools around the campfire
a fifty-thousand year old siberian needle
for hoodies and beanies
the man of steel used to be evil
perhaps like this fella with his cappuccino
i tried power posing
in front of the mirror
i wore superman t-shirts
when sitting my a-levels
i wore a white lab coat
for my biology gcse test
no cigar
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.