The highlight of our week
Knock knock
who’s there ?
A barrage of punchy one-liners
Hilarious skits to crack you up
Ruth Buzzi swinging her purse
Lily Tomlin at the switchboard
One ringy dingy…
two ringy dingy
Rowan & Martin’s snide remarks
Giggles from behind doors
Goldie Hawn flashing her smile
And her infectious laughter
Unconditionally raising
Sunday night’s goofy silliness
To new lofty altitudes
Of exuberant cheerfulness
Lavishly overflowing
well into...
bluesy Monday mornings
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~RANDOM MUSINGS VOL.2~ 2020
Submitted on February 6, 2020 for contest STRAND SELECT F sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
A most notorious caper written up in the paper,
Nothing stolen yet, hold on to your pet.
Cat disappeared in a vapor.
The paper was owned by Bob Hawn. He’d heard about this from his Mom.
It was quite a write. And so quick to fright.
He was so surprised when it bombed.
The story picked up by A.P.
We thought we’d all be on TV.
There was a big fuss
Then we found Cat Gus
She came home six minutes ‘til three.
Bob Hawn became the laughing stock.
Behind his back so many mock.
He sold the paper.
End of the caper.
Left his mother with brother, Rock.
HOLLYWOOD SQUARES
most wouldn’t find names interesting, but I would
draw squares representing student desks.
i loved looking at the baby book of names,
my mother bought, in my thirteenth year.
so i’d put a name to each of these squares,
Hollywood would give their squares faces
as would the children’s game Guess Who.
Names were simple back in my day.
Mary and Joseph, Nadine and Peter...
Of course Hollywood had fun with names.
One word - Cher, Chevy Chase, Goldie Hawn.
Today names are manipulated. They sound
the same with just a tweak of letters.
Like Kym, Davyd, and Naatlee.
And Poetry Soup, you are much
like that stew of names — our own game
of Hollywood Squares.
With questions, truth and lies, a variety of categories.
We have our Phyllis Dillers, Paul Lyndes and even Vincent Prices.
I swim in the sea of names, enjoy our friendship, our love
for poetry. Like pen pals from around the world — we write.
5/25/2018
*Hollywood Squares - American Game Show
*Guess Who - American Board Game for kids
We've worn out yet another Anno Domini.
We're twelve months - if not wiser - surely older.
You call it a relationship, this boulder
which hangs about me like a Shi'ite's bomb, and he,
at least, can choose his cut-off point. From shoulder
to knee, I'm (still) more Goldie Hawn than Golda
Meir, but we don't flow. We ooze. Like hominy
grits, turgidly. But denser. Stodgier. Colder.
Where once fizzed electricity, hums static.
The best and worst of me is best termed "womanly" -
irrational, irascible, erratic.
I'm sure my verse is worse. Tot up each billable
pretentious periphrastic polysyllable.
But you? You're spenter, deader than Mitt Romney.
President Carol of USA met Adam and Eve in White House lawn
Adam said Hello, Eve smiled a bee, beside the marine one “Fawn”
''Nice bird'', said Adam, in inspiring awe
Quipped Eve “Man, you follow the Dalton’s law”
They both were happy, praised the coffee, and kissed Ms. Carol Hawn.
Thinking of beautiful precious Goldie Hawn in Overboard while day dreaming....
Scratching our head as making a list knowing, we are merely his infant trapped amid
An old used body why else would they portray such that, their gerbers festive spoiled child ?
My twinkling if twitching nose held high be the sky; racing past her palace doors marble mistral floors
Silver stools his golden pools; flinging love's pampers without a care so joyfully unto the air; her, savoir-faire.
Variegated yarn slides
and loops through my digits,
shifts from sunset hues to earthen curlicues.
Tension knots the forward carried yarn
like tales of old
in a “Sock it to me!” movie.
Serpentine needles circular as the sylvan sunset
kiss to form dance to born,
hues of orange and puce
on daring pairs of
socks for winter clogs.
Variegated angora wool seams
loop over pointer and linger under
ring fingers caught on the calloused
edges of sorely worn flesh.
Colors dimming to shades of gray
softly singing cotton halleluiahs.
“Sock it to me!” in a Goldie Hawn dream.
Click click the tips kiss pointed tongues
of steel stealing over bamboo yarns…
of jungles and fierce tiger yellow
onward knit the form
of summers socks born.
poet: Debbie Guzzi
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.