An Oathbound lil child
Chasing dreams wild
Unflappable in stress
Still has to deal with mess
And that mess is me
Still yearns for you to fly not flee
Imperfections meet perfections
My heart knows, you take actions
Blindness takes me over
But can't see you hover
All your hurt to me and my fortune to you
You made my love come true
My beloved enchanted
Never took you for granted
Alas! My heart is fragile
And you're a little more agile
I took it as a curse
In quiet measures it got worse
I was stuck in that black hole
Darkened with every role
But why would I let my mishandling make you suffer?
Between you and your dreams, a buffer
Your life quietly aligns
Amid me and my whines
But but but, it all got unraveled
When I made my pieces together travelled
And then comes a wave of rapture
Dew kissed my heart capture
My heart aches for all the soreness I gave thee
But now these scars sets free.
All the misfortune and evil eyes flee
And again our soul sparks glee.
How on earth can I relate to the news they choose
It’s enough I’m forced to pay politicians dues
Comments without commas, coming each and every day
Commons talking pros and cons, never to delay
Let them Russian dancers sing, and Ukrainian singers dance
Let the Iranian strait float, I won’t take a chance
To go there, over there, and right there to see
How it goes I care as much as they care for me
Life seems better without news they put on the roll
Fooling me about the things out of my control
South Korea got their bronze, than predictably
Went to hell, I beg your pardon, to obscurity
It’s a snippet I remembered, and it hasn’t gone
Every game contains another, with no players shown.
Yeah, I know ~ my poetic output contains a fair bit of junk.
But then ~ even God created something called a skunk.
In the works of all unparalleled thinkers,
you can expect quite a few stinkers.
Most attempts at art never attain great heights ~
most just immediately go ~ kerplunk.
I don't take myself too seriously.
If ever I did, it was only deliriously.
I'm a straight, middle of the road kinda guy,
with an IQ neither too low ~ nor too high.
And as to whether I'll ever do anything significant in my life ~
please stand by.
A poet, that's me I'm called Jan
Was NEVER a poetry fan
Now two books bear my name
Not for fortune or fame
I'll pen poop whenever I can!
If ever I am stuck for words
I resort to write about turds
Brown things that you poo
When you're sat on the loo
Poop poetry's not just for nerds!
The farmer’s cock rises each morning
It signals a new day is dawning
His wife ignores him in bed
Says she’s got a bad head
Perhaps she requires pre-warning
NB I BREAK NO RULES POSTING BAWDY LIMERICKS - THE FORM IS BY NATURE ALLOWED TO BE RIBALD AND I GIVE WARNING THE POEM MAY CONTAIN INNUENDO
07/08/21
The dentist’s poised wearing his gown
I’m anxious, my face wears a frown
He’ll pull out my tooth
(Assisted by Ruth)
I’m thankful my panties are brown!
He powered up his dental drill
The noise from it made me feel ill
Bad tooth he requires
He’ll pull it with pliers
Then present me with a huge bill
Of dental issues I’m now wary -
I find gum injections quite scary
I should have asked Ruth
To save my bad tooth
For redemption with the tooth fairy!
I only wish my appointment had been at tooth hurty and not at 5pm!
06/28/21
A lady I knew called Griselda
Collected shoes just like Imelda*
But she’d such cheesy feet
When she walked down the street
Folk secretly called her Ismelldya!
*Imelda Marcos owned at least 1200 pairs of shoes
NB
After being on the site for over 7 years people are well aware of my style and love of writing the limerick form. If i write a bawdy limerick it is noted in the title and if folk insinuate my work is pornographic I can only pity them
I will not be deterred by bloggers and will not stop writing limericks or funny poems. I’ll never stop trying to make folk smile and have a laugh and forget their troubles for a while
1/5/2021
Out shopping, I meet Uncle Billy
I exclaim can I stroke your willy
Feel free to pet him
He says with a grin
My willy’s quite cold brr its chilly
I kneel down and give Willy a stroke
And juggle his brown balls for a joke
Willy’s a rescue pet
Billy got from the vet
My uncle’s a dachshund loving bloke!
10/19/20
For a man of the cloth, our dear vicar
is not very partial to clothes
He is almost allergic to trousers
and y-fronts get right up his nose.
Ev’ry Sunday as he climbs in the pulpit
(where the choir boys are sitting below)
His meat and two veg are seen swinging
And it’s proof that he is commando
The ladies who bake and do flowers
don’t know if to scream or to peek
but Olga the Organist’s smiling
and she’s practising eight days a week!
At this year’s summer fete it was breezy
and the wind, I’m afraid, took its toll
His cassock blew up to his waistline
as he served up the last sausage roll
I've heard when he goes on vacation
He suns himself on a nudist beach
and his wife applies his sun lotion
to stop his tush looking like a ripe peach
03/14/20
Yes it does!
Poetry contains
Revolutionary Power
It can alter landscapes,
tear down governments,
cause the populace
to rise up,
create a ruckus,
transform morals,
foster a new
way of thinking,
bring emotions
to a tempest,
entice new beliefs,
systematize evolution,
inform you,
all the while
functioning for the
good of humanity.
The zero world
How the tide rises and falls,
How the sky lightens and fails,
How the wind peacefully goes
To the zero scale it contains - zero doesn't judge, it just exists.
(c) Maryna Tchianova, Ukraine
Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2016
Its taken me a long time to finally admit
that you aren't coming back to me
I knew from the start
you were a quick fix
I struggled with my loneliness forever so it seems
but I have to admit, it got easier each day
The empty mug sits in the sink ,no longer yours
yes, I wiped it clean and put it back in its place
Do you think you could forgive me
for smiling a little at the end of the day?
I had to finally accept,
and no... I have no regret.
This is a limerick that contains no e’s,
Though that may be hard to believe.
But I declare it be true,
(Okay, maybe a few,
Cuz “no e’s” is really hard to achieve!)
INSTRUMENTAL INFATURATION
The piano man stopped playing when you walked in
And that’s when I heard the brass begin
The flautist was taken aback by your grin
And then I heard the voice of a violin
The drummer stumbled over his beat
As I bumbled over my feet
Then a sax and the trumpet came to meet
And suddenly the syncopation was complete
I heard the shrill of a single piccolo
Played sweetly and haltingly low
The mellowness of a melody began to flow
As the band put on a thrilling show
You were a bigger star than the guitar
As the bass and bassoon began to spar
The rhythm was hotter than steaming tar
As you and I made our way to the bar
Your sashay got an okay from the crowd
And the singer’s song was not too loud
Dancing with you made me so damned proud
Pride born of the beauty with which you are endowed
Suddenly the song was over and done
As you smiled brighter than the summer’s sun
The story of a song had, at once, been spun
And even the band knew I love you more than anyone
© 2012…..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
The very word "anthology" means
"flower-gathering", or "I gather flowers"
rooted in ancient Greek, to describe
the act of collecting
Perhaps on some rocky Athenian hillside,
a maiden and too perhaps,
a young strapping man
walk tentatively,
amidst the rocky slides
of life and lust,
to gaze at the beauty
of shining black hair, flowing robe
over curved bosom, and beautiful feet,
too sinewy biceps, strong torso
and voice, behind alluring smile
They regard each other,
as desirous lovers always do,
with wanton coyness
and amorous trepidation
pausing, from time-to-time
perhaps to bend and pick some
wild flower that bloomed on
antiquities hillside
He would hand it to her
and she would, take it in
for a few moments, then
warmly look at him and
carefully find the perfect
place in her expanding
bouquet of colorful hope
that she held for him and her,
while perhaps,
the sun slowed it's
interminable baking
of the earth, and grapes
and wood smoke
added ambiance to
the possibilities
of an evening together
collecting a life
one bite, a touch,
a gaze, a scent,
a whispered adoration -
one feeling at a time
© Goode Guy 2012-04-26
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