Comic Poems

PoPeYe!

Popeye

The Sailor Man comic strip Popeye
Superstrength from a can, Aye! Aye!
Mumbling’s —I’m strong to the finish
Toots his hornpipe— ‘cus I eats my Spinach!

Kelley

there were his baseball cards
collected in a shoebox,
his model submarines, and planes.
he paced in a restless waddle
from corner to corner in our bedroom.
he could beat me at any game
and always wanted to prove it.
the five years separating our births
often proved to be a continent.

sometimes we slept in bunk beds
and he would get the top bed.
so

Ode to Pasta

You are the stuff my culinary dreams are made of.
Unending shapes and sizes.
From skinny linguini to the rounded orecchiette 
and squiggly fusilli.
As my tongue tastes morsels of your saucy tubular goodness,
I compose a rhyme of the ancient marinara to atone
for my over-the-top pasta love.
Stuffed, plain, buttered. Swimming in Sunday sauce.
The tastiest were those plain whites

Pasta Love

How do I eat thee? Let me count the ways:
sauced, buttered, plain,
sprinkled with Parmigiano Reggiano,
pesto, pancetta, bacon.
Rowdy rigatoni, flamboyant farfalle,
perky penne, funny fusilli, lovely linguini,
spunky spaghetti,
personality abounds.
An atavistic love affair
with semolina goodness
in all shapes, sizes
like my three Aunt Rosas.
Dear pasta,
I count on you
for your depression-lifting goodness,
accepting no impastas!
When you end up in hot water,
you come

CASPER AND SPOOKY

Spooky the tuff Little Ghost liked to BOO,
Knew he was scarier than scary that’s true,
Enjoyed scaring people out of their wits,
Often did he do this, used to go on a blitz
Letting them think he was a bat out of hell,
Oh, come on, that’s why his comics sold so well.
Wore his black little doiby hat, looked

My comic book world and cartoon characters

My comic book world and cartoon characters

I created a new world with comics.
Cartoons were playing with people who magically came to life.
The characters are strong for those who commit sin and triumph over death.
The most used chemical in one of the world fragments on the planet Infinity was soil.


All of them were lost and little

The Official Comedy

Maybe I walk in your shoes,
Perhaps you sleep like my loops,
Probably, this is an unimaginable satire,
Inside your head, I can never born again and be a disaster.

Perhaps I am only your necessity,
Probably, I walk on springs,
Maybe you don't possess earthly possessions,
In your hands, my name is nothing but an arcade.

Maybe you know I am your

A Tragic Comic Tale

dwelling in singularity
complete but arid 
at peace but loveless
living light in renewal
having no urge to act
yet feels a need arise
to feel contrast by touch
for which it must shed
it’s resplendent splendour
walk barefoot on hot sands
in decaying organic form
with memory erased 
clutching onto but hope
of its essence in the heart

pangs of separation 
exhilaration of divine union
embraced by

Comic Strip Gals

Trick-or-treating comic strip gals walked down the street.
The rest of us got out of the way of this wholesome treat.
They were sensuous for sure, these comic strip gals.
All the way we could hear comic strip boys yelling their wows.

A Tragic-Comic Tale

By God’s grace, I have seen my soul
It is a soft white, brilliant light
Being as such, I feel complete

Back to form, in my earth life role
Daylight too seemed like a dark night
Without God’s grace, I faced defeat

Silence alone, made me feel whole
Whence each breath heightened bliss delight
Like a divine sublime love tweet

I Am the light,

A Troubadour Wannabe

In a land of troubadours and song,
A young man dreamed he would belong,
With heart afire and passions strong,
He set out to join the throng.

He practiced every single day,
Learning scales and melodies to play,
And practiced singing in every way,
Hoping his talents would soon sway.

But when he joined the troubadour's guild,
He found his hopes and dreams were

Hellspawn

Spawny, Spawny, he’s our man!
Bought the farm without the land,
fury-fueled, he took his stand.
Life had not gone as he planned.

Evil came to him unjust.
Sent to Hell in sudden thrust.
Return to Wanda, he must
become foul Hellspawn or bust.

Right the wrong unfairly dealt,
he sought evil where it dwelt.
Moral rightness is his belt,
doing good is how he felt.

Stopping

This Isn'T Much of a Poem

A manager worried about how many pens
used in a month
can barely sleep, dreaming of running out
of ink, and how pencils aren't professional-
shouldn't everything be typed now
anyway? Even this poem
is Times New Roman, pondering
the merits of Comic Sans,
while a memo is sent on behalf
of an executive vice president,
wishing everyone Happy Holidays,
but also warning of the need
for

Questions For Archie and Veronica

Why did Archie keep running after Veronica?
Betty was the nice one.
And she was blonde.

Why was Reggie’s mouth always drawn into a sneer?
Did they want him to look cruel?
Why did they want Jughead to appear stupid?

Oddly enough, I never questioned why
Betty and Veronica were both drawn like Vargus pinup girls.
Maybe because I was used to Barbie

Christmas Treats

Santa visits us but once a year
Cookies are waiting, never to fear
Sweet little Helen, so kind
Mixed in Ex-lax to remind
Last year, he had left coal for the dear





A Funny Santa Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Used HowManySyllables.com
December 18, 2022

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