Meet the mad, manic, Mister Murgatroyd
An undynamic blistered humanoid
A curred curmudgeon you don't want to meet
In a bar, back alley, or dead end street
He's a filthy, flagrant, flatulent fart
Sewer rat mind and tarantula heart
Cleaves cuddly kittens, feeds them to guppies
Pet pranks the pet shop, punting the puppies
He's our white whale and our snake in the grass
A demon from hell, one pain in the ass
His black, rotten heart's beyond all belief
We need good karma to offer relief
Slurp burping some soup, soup wouldn't swallow
Burp slurping for breath, death would soon follow
A lone chicken bone was lodged in his throat
His face had changed tone and started to bloat
No one there for the Heimlich maneuver
Cuz no one cared from here to Vancouver
No smelling salts would be administered
No certificate of death was registered
They scrambled his brains to stop his last twitch
Then scraped his remains, dropped him in a ditch
A soulless soul and one sorry old sot
Heavens to Murgatroyd?... Heaven thinks not!
When handed a stuffed pullet
looks like a stunned mullet
should I turn surly
in high dudgeon
please don't bludgeon
this old curmudgeon
and not to be outdone
altho' I am an only son
blame my parents
by all means
as I'm the result
of their poor genes
which run the gamut
of the spectrum
but I don't care one bit
not a jot nor give a sh*t
more politely put
I really couldn't render
a rodent's rectum
How, thee, compare?
‘Tis hard to know
A sunset then?
I think not, no.
I’ve somehow become a curmudgeon.
Before you pooh-pooh and go judgin,’
Just wait ‘til your age
Hits the outmoded stage
Yet from all you believe you’re not budgin.’
I take note of the way people act
And don’t think that I overreact
When all manners have fled
Leaving, sadly, instead
Those who barrel through life without tact.
All the truths that I’ve harbored for years
Have gone rusty or somehow switched gears
But curmudgeons can growl,
Grumble, bellow or howl
Which feels better than sorrow or tears.
A surly old codger in Panama City
Said of the annual tourists "What a pity!"
Groused at the snow birds
With crudest curse words
While chanting a mariner's naughty sea ditty.
Written May 8, 2021
in Panama City Beach, Florida
Why so often
Do I think
That other guys
Just make a stink?
No matter what
You do or say
They jump on it
With one big nay
Yet these same folks
With tired jokes
Say nothing really new at all
Waiting for
Their next phone call
Long gone their lives
Many now
With worn out wives
All once walked tall
Then came age
And then their fall
Now buried rage
Long gone their power
They sit around
And watch the hour
Some now frail
Excitement
Just the daily mail
So God forbid your life is nice
They're sure
To make you pay a price
In a dark, dark room this Halloween Night,
I will seclude myself sans outside light,
And when kids shout "trick or treat",
Behind my door I'll retreat,
And eat all the Snickers bars just for spite!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Knowing why, doesn't make the search go away
Knowing how, doesn't mean you can stop
There are alternative ways, different days
No one gets to stay forever
There are traps
There are walls
People trip and people fall
and some never get up and walk again
The world continues to change
Nothing stays the same
Tomorrow is not always better
Bad things happen to good people
Good things happen to bad
and no one knows, why the wind blows
The water rises and why everything must die
Wishing will not make the pain of life go away
Life is, what it is.
My Resentments are so ill-behaved
By and by- by them enslaved!
Was I made to be depraved,
(Just another Soul to save?)
Afraid to say or hear the Truth,
Cannot bear to see the proof
My life grows cold, alas! I'm old!
Oh, my God! Where went my youth?
I have no beef with Halloween per se
Tho' 'tis like a vast guv-mint giveaway
'Tis a scheme to spread the wealth
As kids shake me down with stealth
I aim to keep socialism at bay
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in John Freeman's "Halloween Limerick" Contest - November 2010
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