There once was a man from Majorca
Who was also a bit of a porker
From the food in Spain
He couldn’t refrain
His paella was a fair dinkum corker.
Gold Medal Marathoner, Susan Ashley
Never can be accused of acting rashly
Carefully crafts each word, line, and stanza
Wowing us with her prolific poetry bonanza!
Silver Medal Marathoner, Craig Cornish
We applaud your brilliant marathon flourish
Bespoke wit and singular vision ascend
Your distinct voice ran strong to the end
Bronze Medal Marathoner, Michael Coy
Whose wit and humor we all enjoy
A Spaniard, perhaps—yet a Welsh-British New Yorker?
Whose layered literary allusions prove he's a real corker
Apples, She’ll Be!
Despite Down Under date blunder,
Summer ‘tis Winter, go ponder,
Go on a date, a Burl,
Whirl your girl,
No Drama, Sheila thunder!
A Wazoo Woo,
Is a Ripsnorter Two,
Warm winter sunbake,
Warren’s Birthday Cake,
Pash modestly or HooRoo!
Take Mary on a Bonzer Date,
Good Onya Heaps Mate,
May yer Matilda be Moolah
Cold Beer in yer Coolah
Corker You Day!
A band of comrades rather strange I think you will agree
This oddball bunch together shared a commonality…
The panda didn’t pander to the niceties of style
He wore his usual coat which he had done for quite some while
The zebra was a Libra with an eye for what’s in fashion
She loved the skin she’s swaddled in and flaunted it with passion
The badger was a cadger but he didn’t want your suit
He’ll cadge your lunch but he’s content with being so hirsute
The puffin felt like nuffin with his massive beaky nose
But still he kept his chin up for he rather liked his clothes
The magpie wouldn’t lie although he was prepared to steal
His virtues might be fake but his apparel very real
The Penguin was depending on a chance to show his class
His haute couture was something that was absolute top brass
The skunk just stunk, not all the time, but when occasion rose
His looks were good but he was quite offensive to the nose
The orca wasn’t happy to be so far from the sea
Though he was quite a corker in his shiny livery…
So when they met the parrot they tried not to put him down
But one of them just had to say… “Did you come as a clown?”
Caitlin Clark this, Caitlin Clark that
your name is magic, you're the Cat in the Hat
You’ve got folks so mesmerized
they don’t see you’re undersized
In a tizzy, fans shell out their dough
Don’t they know you’re skinny and slow
Over you the media's ablaze
all they print's effusive praise
Yet not a word about this corker
~ your new pro team is mediocre
that was a crackerjack
a dandy
a pippen
a doozy
a corker
a whale
grandson stared at his elderly grandfather
having no idea what language he was speaking
It was a grand Apple Day Celebration, and a lively fun dance.
The apples were practically putting themselves to sauce as they prance.
Granny Smith slapped Arkansas Black’s wayward hand.
The rest of them laughed, and they kicked up the band.
Honey Crisp, the most forward tart of them all.
Was dressed in a lively gown, and shoes that made tall.
She could barely walk in them, and kept stumbling down.
She is such a corker, a goof pot, a run-around and a clown!
Ginger Gold refused Roma’s advances every inch of the night.
He finally gave up and ran off with Delicious, a most awesome sight.
They would have darling offspring, tasty and sweet.
We do not like to think however, of people who eat.
The carnivores are asleep in their beds, as we dance through and through.
Johnathan goes home with Golden Delicious a bit after two.
Some of us will be made into applesauce, the rest into pie.
But until that happens, we dance, we make love and we sigh.
Mother asked her big brother to pass the sugar;
big brother ruined it by splashing on liquor;
father rued spilt liquor by throwing his jigger
that hit sister who lit an elbow hard slammer
straight into the hand of their rare guest and butcher;
butcher stood to secure a full-face slap on her;
slap missed, striking their napping, fat cat to a blurred
flying fur on shriek tour that dog crashed with claws bore;
clawed dog wailed and bailed, dragging tail out wee dog
door where he ran to distance pain until a looper
stopped his scooter – close by was one giant cougar;
too pooped to care, tired dog flopped right then and
right there; dog closed eyes, cougar cleared throat, then
croaked, ‘Hey, Lassie, are you insanely blind to cougar
claw lugers?’; dog moaned, ‘A quick cougar corker beats
home murder.’
His instructor said he must wear tights
Most essential in these sorts of flights
Fred said take them away
Folks would think I was gay
The truth is that Fred’s scared of heights
Fred fibbed that he’d been a wing walker
A falsehood, this sure was a corker
His relations soon found
He did not leave the ground
It’s a good job he’s a fast talker!
Inspired by The Wing Walker by Tom Cunningham
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_wing_walker_990038
2/06/18
Trump and Mental Capacity
Then there is Trump and mental capacity;
He has been a voyeur with much veracity;
Definitely odd;
Opposed by God;
Thinks he is tough full of much tenacity.
Trump can be compulsive and obsessive;
Controlling things and being possessive;
Definitely weird,
We had feared;
Delves into stages of acting depressive.
Our analysis used was form of regressive,
Painting a picture that became expressive;
Clear and plain;
Stress and strain;
Disorder does cause desire to be impressive.
Jim Horn
After watching more TV and listening
to Corker and Tillerson comments.
Trump has tweets. I have my poems.
I wined and dined you but you wined at me,
you wound so much, it corked.
then when we sniffed the cork of love:
you popped my cork,
my; what a corker!
fruit you said: and rang the glass to chill report
Oh!.. never was there ruby depth like this before.
thus another trip to the cellar I thought/lost in
wine’s bumptious nose
Cheese? …only when selling ..never when buying
I’m sold on you Delilah!
steady boy/hold the glass: Shiraz is calling.
hold your trousers and their fighting dog at bay,
save the passion/ Syrah has its sweet way!
we’ll let the sun pour forth. Bachus show the way!
Written for contest 14/8/15
There once was a man, a New Yorker
Who was truly a cocky corker
He loved best his wife, and fixing bath pipes
With Bronx accent, a hearty talker
Fifty years he’d labored and toiled
Keeping pipes un-rusted and oiled
When no water drained, the women complained,
“Come fix it! ‘Cause the floor is now soiled!"
With light in hand he crawled under sinks
Slithered and slid among all those chinks
He worked for the money for his honey
No more teasing or joking high-jinks
Water flowed; it’s time to retire
Move South where old people perspire
Riding on 'trikes with high flying flags
With large baskets for folks to admire
He never thought he'd have such sore bones
"Tho he's always been accident prone
Pedaling by his now startled wife
He's riding through three time zones!
Love taketh my heart and soul
it recaptured my trust
never again shall I stand sole
for your love, is lust
I learned not to love
Thy heart cast melancholy melodies inside
Thy love is love that is only loved by the man above
For love isn't a vied
My heart seems to haste
yet I suffered
Unquestionably your love can be replaced
When love comes to push and shove, I defer
As lies come across my ears
As much as my pulverized heart been through
I learned to put off love as it corker, belittlement, and depressed me for years
Thy heart day by day grew
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