I found 'em on the floor one night:
discarded socks no longer white
(the guy had diarrhoea, that's clear -
no paper left to wipe his rear -
and took the socks right off his feet...)
I guess he'd used the final sheet
of paper on the roll. He whined,
I bet! Then left his socks behind!
Gran and Gramps are BUM BUMS!
Standing beneath bouncy castle with hope and glee
Begging my Gran and Gramps to lift me up to see
The fun and exuberance of children taking a jump
Rolling into the middle like one big kiddie lump
Screams and giggles radiate through the air
Flying shoes, squished candy and knots of long hair
Children in chaos while adults swirl round
Bellowing “Be Careful or you might hit the ground”
I plead with Gran and Gramps in my best squeaky voice
To keep their big promise and give me the choice
To join in the fun and experience all the sites
They renege on their promise and gosh that bites
I crawl into the car with a big scowl on my face
Those two party-poopers are a child’s disgrace!
Riding home in silence and feeling so glum
I give them a nickname “Gran and Gramps Bum Bums”
Waving goodbye and as they drop me to the door
Dumb “Bum Bums” will be lucky to see me anymore!
my grandpa is not one of your regular Joes
he travels around where a surf blows
he has been riding boards since sixty-two
he will never come home to Kalamazoo
Sometimes I bump into him on a beach
He always has facial hair like a baby peach
He does not know me, but I am like him a bit
Single, annoying, a lone wolf, a chit
I am a lazy bum thank God!
or else I would
have got caught up in
this society
It wears you down
turns you into a puppet
I would never have
become a Poet
having been tied
to the grindstone
Whatever caused me
to turn to Poetry
was a blessing in disguise
Life is a mystery
and you have to
go with the flow
Make whatever adjustments
are necessary believing
that you are headed
on the right path
Sitting on the beach soaking in ocean finding myself
The difference between ‘to borrow’ and ‘to bum’
~ a weather-beaten book or a fresh stick of gum
Bum..blebees
On a warm, spring day
in…… May,
when there’s a hum
from the bum…blebees,
PLEASE,
just freeze
and……..listen!
For on that warm, spring day
in….May
that buzz and hum
does come
when young bees
are in a fret of sweat
learning their humming alphabet!
So on this warm, spring May day
when the hum of the bum..blebees
is buzzing lightly through the trees
just listen far and near,
and you’ll definitely hear
the humble, bum...blebees
practising their humming a,b,c’s.
They may, at times,
rumble or stumble
even jumble!
But a monotous, murmuring mumble
earns a teacher’s cross-grumble
No understanding of anything carefree;
the culprit simply removed to plan bee!
Ian Souter
Coocoo doodle I do,
Not every day I coo,
What Mum can do, I can –
My skin needs a sun tan.
My hair with homemade curls,
My makeup shines like pearls.
I'm just a baby, see,
Acting adult, maybe.
Bring napkins for wee-wee,
Ensure fun flows for free.
Tie me nappies for poo.
And bandage my boo-boo.
Baby guys will whistle,
Love – their own epistle.
While I sway my bum-bum,
Left to right like my mum.
Coocoo doodle I do,
Not every day I coo,
What Mum can do, I can –
My skin needs a sun tan.
No high-heeled shoes to wear,
I'd still swagger with flair.
I'm a baby with style,
Can't stop this cheeky smile.
Savaging what he has left
after the mafia takes his last
bowl of soup his last slice of
bread his last cup of coffee
the mob boss then gives the
bum a cigarette and a light
pats him on the shoulder
tells him to keep warm its
cold out here drives off
the mob boss then douubles
back around and ask the bum
for change for the parking
meter the bum reaches in
his pocket with worn finger tips
torn gloves and give the
mob boss his last dime
and says take it that's it
that's all I have the mob boss
scratches his head and says
are you sure this is your
last dime the bum replies
yes I'm sure take it you need
it way more than me now stunod
stumps I’m your new Boss Bum
now do you got any change
Bum Fluff
I suffer
acute bum fluff
shortages.
I’m the lady with a big bum
A man offered quite a sum
Of money to play
With my bum he’d pay
Until I reached out to his mum
My limericks are silly and all bout fun
My attempt at putting those nasty blues on the run
I don't take this task lightly
Honoured and quite rightly
To be the one to put a wiggle in your bum
White Ohio body tanning under Florida sun
There must be something besides love
Another good topic for a poem
Perhaps I'll write about nature and stuff
And the chilly winds a-blowin'
November in Canada has that nip in the air
That foretells of the season ahead
For those that are into those winter sports
Bet you're can't get it out of your head
Well maybe when I was a very young'un
Snow time meant barrels of fun
But this guy's quite old and crotchety now
Snow means falling on me bum
Can't wait for spring just six months to go
The months can't go by fast enough
Perhaps I'll hibernate just like the bears
Then wake up and brush of the dust
Don't get me wrong, I'm Canadian eh!
It's the law, I'm required to like winter
They could lock me up, throw away the key
It's also against the law to whimper
(sniff!)
Tickle me bum and call me Lucy
Everything's loopy and totally groovy
Lost half a pound
Look great in a gown
Next I'll star in a Hollywood movie
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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.