Fop Poems

we bought him off

He was a fop, a weirdy cat, a popinjay
foolish, ridiculous, cheeky and brash
we landed on a big secret one day
he can be bought off with a bit of cash
at family events, he annoys others
paid to leave us alone by me and my brothers.
Why isn’t you dad coming around? Asked our mother.
“I have no idea,” lied one of my brothers.

A Fop a Fool a Popinjay

He was a fop, a fool, a popinjay
Man-about-town, too cute and gay
A fashion plate, a cavalier blade
His arrogance riveled an oak’s tree shade

Cotton Fields

The devil’s dry fields
dirt farm, not much yields
damn sun
one forlorn tree shields
Texas battlefields
the one
recline that appeals
low water reveals
not done

no reprieve day’s sun
no wind, land barren
poor crop
windmill slow to run
water still and dun
well drop
worn clothes overdone
unbleached and homespun
no fop

dry, dingy sweatshop
broken fence post prop
damn sun
blind heat nonstop
a silent eavesdrop
poor crop
bleeding fingers mop
hellish spinning top
Grandma

This Hand, Time's, Extends

This hand, Time's, extends
As gift-giver
Be quick, each golden chance
To snatch from out.
Of Love's butterfly-wing
Left in no doubt!

Heeding, by what blows
Lifelong across
For Change. Coldly unswayed
By pleas to stop.
Her late bloomer's! Come, gone
Whom flapped a fop.

Cecil For Treatment

Now he’s going for a treatment 
That might swallow much liniment
And lick up copious supplement ;
About this, no long argument …

Watching was I Sir Cecil hop,
Not once, not twice, in real pain stop,
His discharging sweat sadly mop
And his injured feet sometimes drop;
All these in the next street flop,
A watcher to pity The Fop
And arrange A Medic on Top…

And there was to be one stop
To curiously look at some crop
Before in the rain a dared bop,
As though briefly rung Jackson’s Pop…

Cecil to Patients The Cynic 
I saw just head for a clinic.

He Was a Dandy

He was a dandy, a coxcomb, a fop.
Fashionable without one inch of slop.
But when undressed
was not caressed
Genital area horrible mop

It's Hard To Get Help These Days

My lawyer's a liar
  my doctor's a quack
As for my dentist
  I'll never go back

My accountant's a fop
  my maid is a crook
I'll never replace the
  jewelry she took

My lawn guy is lame
  and the mailman's a dame
My favorite restaurant just closed
  no more fries with tree toads

It's hard to get help these days
  You just can't trust folks
with rings in their nose
  when they're not snortin' coke

I guess I've no choice
  I'll do things all by myself
'Cos when my wife heard my plan
  she eloped with our elf

Poetry Soup Lists

Joy! Joy! of all the honors I have earned
In a lifetime of trysts, mazes, and twists
None have I so much relished, indeed,
As topping one of Poetry Soup’s lists!

I only wish they would send a certificate
I feel like my soul would be duly kissed,
My head swells with pride, such renown, 
If I wrote music, I’d feel like Franz Lizst!

I know some are eat up with jealousy --
Somewhere down there in the foggy mist,
But there is always room at the top
And someday, surely, you’ll make a list.

I hope you have figured out, by now, I jest.
I would write poetry if I never saw my name
Writing, my tongue firmly planted in cheek,
I would be a fop to write poetry for fame!

written December 23, 2021
[inspired by a recent poem
by a Poetry Soup poet!]

#33 on the Month's Best Poems List
January, 2022

Top of the List

Let there be no shame in a struggle to the top
For everyone who is achieving is not being a fop,
But expending the effort to be the best they can
It means climbing further upward again and again.

Do not be jealous of those at the top of the list
For they had goals you may’ve, heretofore, missed,
Consider them excellent examples of fortitude
And do not upon their fine successes intrude.

Congratulate and encourage those on the ladder
Above or below you, it really doesn’t matter,
Everyone reaches the summit at his or her own pace
What’s really important is doing so with verve and grace.

Written December 1, 2021

A Red Eyed Cop To a Driver

So, why didn’t you stop
After seeing a red-eyed cop
You know could ask you to hurriedly drop
And have you childishly begin to hop
Or ludicrously  bop
To still hard blows  wire to your face while on top
And angrier, like gilled corn, pop!
A prelude to making you some grimy floor mop
Or in a nearby farm start planting a crop,
Retaining this over coat that does make you a fop?

Cardinal Request

Could you please just take a bit off the top?
I stare at this cardinal, hoping he’ll stop.
But surely there is a bird barber shop.
Yes, but they never give me a good chop.

Afraid I would be an enormous flop,
Oh, come on! He says with a little hop.
I will sweep your kitchen and even mop.
Decide to give me a teensy buzz crop.

Thank you so much says the cardinal with slop
I’ll sing your praises to firebird and cop.
Then with a giant cute wiggle and bebop,
He flew straight into the air with a pop.

So all of that talk about wanting to mop
Was a conniving way to get me to stop
Pick up the scissors and give him a crop.
He is a cad, a scoundrel, a fop!

Nowhere To Go

Blazing hot
Blistering my skin
Can’t tell you where I’m going
I can only tell you where I’ve been.

I’ve been in green meadows 
On a cool crisp morn
In a hospital near my wife
When our first child was born.

I’ve been to the bar with friends
To get drunk and maybe get in a fight
That’s just normal behavior
For a small town Saturday night!

I’ve been in love once or twice
Before I grew up
My favorite birthday present ever
Was a new little pup.

I’ve been to a high school dance
With my clumsy two left feet
And at that very dance
Is where my wife and I did meet.

I’ve been out on the lake
Fishing with my dad
And at that time in my life
Never appreciating all that we had.

I’ve been to boot camp
With all of the other new guys
I wonder where they are?
Or did they tell me a bunch of lies?

I’ve got to keep going
I need to fill my canteen
There’s nothing but sand everywhere
Sand and sun are all I’ve seen.

I’m so parched…I can barely move
Shap…feet are…hum fall
My arm…pur soi nop
Fop in siz…hot metal.

Pom bo…a pistol…lam bi
Tum…too weak to…

Values In Life 2

Without values life may whop
And you cannot even yawp
As the destiny may strop
A valueless person nonstop.
If your values from life lop
It is zilch and make you fop –
Fop – a man with concern atop
For dress than character prop.
Without values we may drop;
Cannot stand or walk; sit or hop.
So respect values that clearly mop
All bad, illicit or forbidden crop.

Fumed

There was an elderly fellow from Dopp
whose steady gas-passing he couldn't stop.
The odor was terrible
totally unbearable
so alone he lived as a popping fop.

Frankly Yours

Dearest D.G.,
it appears to me...
you have a slight quandary!

Let me clarify your confusion,
you frivolous fop...
your relationship is a flop.

Lose his number,
as it seems to be...
you were a dirty secret.

His "sister" likely a wife,
don't wreck her life...
just walk away.

His phone neither broken,
nor is it hid...
you naive kid.

He is not shy,
simply attempting to be shy...
"remodeling" a tricky lie.

His homeT you won't see,
gather what remains of your dignity...
flee this deception.

Focus upon your work,
be a brilliant mother...
eventually you'll find another.

Take these words of wisdom,
if his wife clues in...
you will lose, she will win.

Best of luck,
you plucky duck...
Frankly yours, Agony Aunt

• Short Fop Poems
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• Long Fop Poems
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