on that fence are the three cutest pigs you ever hope to see
I ran over to look, he was nuts, this city-slicker, Tommy Lee
These are piglets, not pigs, I yelled to him rather snottily.
The piglets began to snort and whistled with glee
We are Patty’s pretty pink piglets, polished and persnickety.
Puffed up and prideful, perhaps you know our uncle Paulie Lee?
They began dancing around on ham hocks, showing off their glee.
I now wanted to meet their amazing mother, the glorious Patty.
We have a new dog and we call her UCAP
Interesting, I say, does she chase tail and nap?
She doesn’t do anything other dogs do.
Actually, and her bark sounds more like a moo.
I did not meet UCAP that night, it was late
but opened my eye the next day to a crazy fate.
The dog looked more like a cow, had an udder too
Now I knew why this dog did not bark, yet said moo
Pardon me, I said, but this dog is a cow.
Couldn’t be said the city slicker, not knowing how…
They could have paid the pet shop for a dog but instead
Brought home an enormous beast who liked being grain-fed.
What does UCAP Stand for? I asked them, interested now.
Up close and personal, and you are right, she might be a cow.
Up close and personal loved living in the house with these two.
When I left I heard another loud bellowing moo.
Presumptuous
City slicker, soul breaker
Night hawker, headhunter
Fire starter, mayhem maker
Risk taker, maniacal monster
Forecast reader, global disorder
Bogus soothsayer, dreams slayer!
Penned: 01/13/2023
2:13 a.m.
West Palm Beach
Florida
For those who love the Hallmark reels
with stories that give all the feels
You’ll notice that in every one
there is the same web to be spun
The small town girl who comes back home
her city slicker job to roam
Has led her back to find romance
to give someone a second chance
And then, that interrupted kiss
that makes us wait for wedded bliss
Precedes that stumble and near fall
fair maiden saved by one so tall
Of course, there shines our Christmas glee
to warm the hearts of all who see
The Holidays will save the day
when lovers seem to lose their way
The cookie sales and Santa’s wink
That magic that still tickles pink
And knowing that it all will mend
about five minutes till the end!
So safe, so sweet, that Hallmark thrill
When such a show is on the bill
So make ye fun, if that must be
But there’s no bigger fan than me
You’ll find that I have core beliefs, that are not written in any one book.
I believe that Jesus loves me. He’s all around, so please, take a look.
He doesn’t give me what I may want, or an answer to every prayer.
But he gives me exactly what I need, and the assurance that he’ll always be there.
I’ll never worship fine paper, or the ink you’ll find printed on each page.
I trust what he puts in my heart, and I’m thankful for his generous wage.
He was there when my dear mother died, and he came for my father as well.
I’ve always felt his loving hands, every time that I climbed up and fell.
This man was not American, he was born far across the sea.
He never closed his borders, and he died for both you and me.
All of us have an obligation to stand up and do what is right.
Whenever evil threatens, that’s when we must go and fight.
I’ve heard we should mind our business and watch out for only our own.
Would you ever tell that to God, and wished that he left you alone?
I don’t care if you’re a city slicker, or a redneck in a chevy or ford.
My faith lies in each one of you, and in Jesus, my savior and Lord.
There once was a city slicker
Who posted photos on flickr
All naked and clean
But rated, "Obscene"
By Rabbi, Priest, and the Vicar!
Forever waiting for any kind of visitor
Raring to share our down home country hospitality
Outstanding in our eagerness to please others
Neglecting to say no to friends, neighbors or family
Talking and laughing over and over at the same stories
Porch sitting may not be for some city slicker Type A’s
Ordinarily it is not for me either but now during this pandemic
Restful and rejuvenating, porch sitting is a favorite past time
Country living among a variety of gorgeous flowers and bushes
Here I sit watching my birds. Visit me please! I am ready to see a person.
He was a bitter aging man
He’d never married
Had lost the love of his life
And never recovered
She had died before his return from war
Her parents’ home still stood there like a castle
He often gazed at it from his window
After their final family funeral
He became incensed when he heard
Some city slicker was moving into her house
And when that day did come, he took to spying on him
Cursing him, venomous and vicious
Vindictive and spiteful, inflamed with jealousy
Maliciously sinning by mischief and omission
Finally the bitter aging man did win
And the village prepared for another funeral
All his conniving had paid off
It was shortly after
That the tragedy was discovered
The two lovers had been separated by a letter
Lost and never delivered
Florette announcing her condition
Did not receive a reply
Had moved away in shame
And died on her own giving birth
AP: 1st place 2025
Back when I was just a little boy
I was wishing to be cowboy Jack
Riding fast on the dusty trail
And then, well, I guess riding back!
Of course I'd want to be a good guy
With boots, and a white hat I'd dress
Riding a cow or roping a horse
Wishing to help a filly in distress!
I'd sit around the old campfire
Telling tales and eating beans
Smelling the wafting aroma
Wishing I knew what wafting means
Then I guess I'd write a poem
Sitting underneath the stars
Wishing I had a flashlight
Glad that I'm not behind bars
At night I'd lay my head on a rock
I'd dream of being a city slicker
Cold, I'd wake, with a crick in my neck
Wishing I could get dressed quicker!
I was raised up in Wichita Kansas
A city slicker I'd guess you would say
Once my Uncle Ben took my brother and I
To visit his cabin for a night and a day
We fished and swam and had great fun
Then went back to the cabin for a bit
I asked Uncle Ben, “Where's the bathroom at”
He said, “Out back and down that path is it”
I thought that's weird as I walked out the door
But ran as my stomach I had to clench
I shoved the door open and pulled down my pants
and sat down on a big hole in a bench
I was feeling triumphant as things started to flow,
The door bumped my knee so I kicked it shut
That's when a wasp nest in the corner came alive
And I had nothing to wipe my butt!
After that there was screaming and shouting
There was crying as I beat on that old stuck door
I came out alive but man what a mess it made
And I never used that old outhouse anymore
People laugh and make fun of me because I wear a coonskin cap.
But they'll stop laughing because I'm through taking their crap.
People say that my cap makes me look silly.
They say that it makes me look like a hillbilly.
This morning a city slicker called me a hick and he called my hound dog a mutt.
He was laughing very hard but he stopped when I put some buckshot in his butt.
He started running after I shot both of his cheeks.
He won't be able to sit down for about twelve weeks.
If you see me face to face, you may point, laugh and make fun.
But unless you want to visit a proctologist, you'd better remember that I own this shotgun.
(This is a fictional poem.)
PUT ON YOUR LONGEST WADERS.
SOMEONE WILL HELP YOU STAND.
MEANDER DOWN THAT LONG WINDING ROAD
THAT LEADS TO THE LANDING.
IF YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH SALKEHATCHIE
AVOID THE DREADED DEVIL’S WALKING STICK.
YOU HAVEN’T LOST YOUR MIND!
IT WILL BE WORTH YOUR TRIP.
TAKE A LONG STICK TO MEASURE DEPTH,
DON’T WORRY, YOU WON’T DROWN.
BRING A CHANGE OF CLOTHING
BEFORE YOU GO BACK TO TOWN.
THE SQUISH OF YOUR STEPS
WILL BE LOUDLY HEARD.
YOU MAY GET STUCK, BOG TO YOUR WAIST.
WAIT AND SOMEONE WILL GET THE WORD.
UNTIL SOMEONE ELSE FALLS IN THE MUD,
YOU WILL SURELY BE TEASED!
YOU MAY HEAR THE GRUNT OF SOMETHING NEAR.
CITY SLICKER, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR KEYS?
Their population on the swell,
The local yokels just couldn't tell,
Why their isolated town called Bugaree,
Red dust and drought for all to see,
Was inundated by a city slicker hell.
You see,it was a radio man from 2CE
Using language bordering on thuggery,
Delivered such a terrible harangue,
Abusing listeners when they rang,
Had told everyone to go to buggery.
rondeau
Envision your route, it's quicker.
Like your crowds thinner or thicker?
Traffic can ruin a trip, no fun;
my choice - less-traveled paths, bar none.
country bumpkin / city slicker?
Long journeys can be a kicker;
on a bus, some snore, some snicker.
Think through your options one by one.
Envision your route.
Some folks will dally and dicker?
Others like to blame and bicker?
think ahead ere the trip's begun;
you'll be happier when it's done.
If you drive, don't drive on liquor,
envision your route.
written 07/27/12, revised 07/19/19
to meet requirement of 8 syllable lines.
Host: Charles Messina - Contest: Rondeau
If I let my imagination go does it return?
Does it really count what I imagine?
Does it make any difference if I reshape my imagination?
If I imagine to be a country girl or a city slicker,
Rich or poor, Young or old,
Build castle in the air or indulge my virile in Rio
Sail imaginary shores or remain in the shadows of obscurity
Does it really matter if the universe is spherical?
Or being a half human just for a day or swap into endless possibilities
Or imagine a departure at twenty or at fifty,
Or slide into eternal sleep or wander like a wandering wolf
Or wear John Legend’s buttery voice
Does it really matter if I can imagine all things and do nothing?
Will my imaginations resurrect the crucifier?
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