High Jinx Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Does Bazball stink or back from the brink Pretty in Pink


Whittled skittled Bazball skint

Belittled lost the glint of Clint

Have a dig make my day big hint

Whatever they say never skinflint

In every stint we will always sprint

Hope dope blueprint trope's mint


The jibber jabber about the Gabba

White knights or ghoulish frights 

Stagefright day night under lights

Highlights or more foolish flights


In the ascendancy have that tendency 

Heresy or do they deserve clemency

Jealously let them preserve their legacy

Lose again barricaded in the Embassy


Stokes blokes smokes with their high jinx

Ben’s mens sneaky kinks find the chinks

Bazball minx in sync with cheeky winks

Glasses clinks as fans sinks their drinks 


Nearly boys ploys bring us back from the brink

What do you think ..will our envoys annoy shrink 

Another pity ditty in a sweltering city.. sh**ty stink

Or blink ignore the noise....spurred on by the slurs

Purrs like the Psychedelic Furs..joys of Pretty in Pink?

Premium Member a b c d e f g h I J

an annoyed angry acorn
befriended bewildered buttercup
creating constructive alliance
daffodil danced in delirious delight
enthusiastically excited at extraordinary unity
friendships in forest formed in freedom’s frenzy
garden greeted this evolution gratefully
high jinx happened as happiness increased
ingenuous idealism is alive in Iowa and Indiana
jubilant juries justified joyfulness

Getting older part two

Encores & guffaws .. sure you get more twinkle as you do get older

Be a jester...don't let anything pester..smoulder..floor or fester

Show jeers..fears..tears..sneers the door..that scolder colder shoulder


Sly minx..kinks & sky high jinx.. rafter of laughter from yesteryear's folder

Winks me thinks.. blink and guy on the brink.. dafter.. few too many drinks

Rascal sprinkle now a sparkle after each superfly debacle.. appears a bit bolder


Premium Member historians doing their best

high spirited historians have had hissy high-jinx over alternative facts
interestingly, instilling intentional intellectual events with integrity intact
juxtaposing jurisprudence juggling judgmental journalism best they can
Keeping knowledge kosher
legalizing ledgers in the land

Trailer Trash Honey

She is a low life skank 
Trailer trash honey

Dressing all up 
And taking your money

But I would trip her if I saw her
And spill my coffee on her dress
And make her into disheveled mess

And yes darlin, 
She done you wrong,
So I wrote this song.... 

Your wife should not napalm your life 
To sleep with all your friends 
That was no way to make amends 

It makes her just a hussy
And a low class **** 
And there is no makeup or outfit That can dress that up 

You can’t pull that kind of high jinx
And expect any man, 
to ever fall for you again

So she will be alone, just wait and see 
And we can sing about it and someday laugh you will see

Love you Cowboy Poet, this was not your fault . (C) Artimus Susan Manley 10:55 AM 10/30/23

Premium Member Lush November Fall

Dawn
awakes
bright  cities
deep moonlit snooze
when autumn pageant’s
covert vanishing trail
exits on the sly behind
a stoic gem plinth while cheerful
denizens asses black grain pepper
clouds afloat as dark cobalt skylines watch

Gust
chill noon
might sense its
life hub platform
shiver between months
October curtain may
droop o’er high-speed dream chaser
without some red orb scintilla
or the faraway treasure trove break
from taut humdrum routine office zeitgeist

Oak
and ash
or cherry
trees in the shade
adding splashes of
colour to town verges
between day long transitions
kaleidoscope on sweet gum hue
orange, red, burgundy foliage
caress tired eyes of street inhabitants

Light
swaying
lantern’s arc
cast magic tints
at high jinx urban
throngs inside and those who
loiter on the coffee dock
margins awestruck by picture perfect
fall where countryside meets asphalt sprawl hub


Premium Member Close Quarter Riddle

In the light of autumn skies,
one might sense this blind turbulent endeavour,
raptures veering like some wanton thunderstorm,
behind dark moon frost allure,
amber leaf vortex among bemused grey clouds,
gust-ridden disco blue hue,
tumbling high jinx from skyline moist beams,
damp rot urban shed cluster,
nomad squatter plight,
so at odds with pending freeze,
summer folly red blaze passed,,
heatwave immigrant rues latent scorn,
a strained close quarter riddle,
never ending once an everlasting phase,
now deep chill month outlier,
sunshine and wet portent’s quaint platform,                 eccenteuc tide or mere blot,                                                   mud-splattered  ocean grazing bleak ink stain  pier,               lone wolf lifebuoy weeps,
shifting sand element's interval

Premium Member Spring High Jinks

spring high jinx

lusty sunbeams jive
 rowdy clouds do fandangos ~ 
  gusty winds kiss kites

ducklings surf the pond
 fuzzy goslings in high jinx ~
  willow trees hula dance

spring stars waltz the sky
 wink at comets streaking by ~
  corn planting moon sighs

rowdy zephyrs whoosh
 corralling spindrift laces ~
  crazy clouds spiral

shifting clouds speak riddles
 guess the shape of changing clouds  ~
  new green shoots tickled

whirlwind pranks tumble
 hijack dandelion puffs ~
  moonbeams tease midnight

5-26-22

November Fairy Dreams

A gust of wind with a chill on its tail
 rushes through the trees in gray and pale,
high up in the naked branch
 tiny spectral lights begin to twinkle and dance;
a shiver and a blink ties us to hazy unseen high jinx
 where hard shell insect hide their flashing winks,
each seeks warmth, some hiding shelter in place
 while in the house they entwine in curtained lace.
The stink bug with magic transparent wings abuzz 
 hide in the pleated drapes warmed and well gloved
and on their pumpkin seedlike backs, 
 the mottled brown antenna stacks
are tiny fairies, garden nymphs unambiguous
 venturous, charming, winged, naughty, mischievous
slipping in and out the backdoor screens,
 secret, safe, secure in imaginary November dreams;
it's just a tiny magical bug, burrowed in the rug
 and it teases my dog to lay down and roll around
captive to their scent and sound.






for Caren Krytsinger;s November Twinkle Fairy
11/17/19

High Jinx At the Okay Coral

accursed creepily haunting
Phantasmagoria wraiths
vandalize residents psyches
within their sleep induced state

Sublimation shunts
slumbering souls
unknowingly held hostage
successfully sacrificing

Semi-smothered silent species
snoring simians steadfastly succumb
subsequent sibilant sounds
woo woebegone wicked transmogrification

dilapidated divested bodies deposited
wizard waves wand
watching whirling wretched lovely bones
whipsawing (in toto) within abyss

whooshing whistling wheezing
whets warlocks appetite wakening
brutish nasty nightmare
sinister hulking spirits

steal assorted corporeal essence
monstrous mashing somnambulant
mephistophelian shadowy satanic satyrs
supremely swallow senior citizen bankers

deep within catacombs
of Highland Manor,
deadened defeated Delphic Oracle
relegates human husks,

viz spent embodiments
to the under world lay siege
sinisterly seeding, via sinister spirits
one pure evil particularly wicked

witch thy capering
sickening ghastly plot against
unsuspecting spouse snatched
parch trey gnarled warty claws.

In the Way


Step aside, bruh ...
you’re in the way
Can’t you see that progress
is being stymied ... moving backwards
not forward
Hard earned labor now taken away
Constitutional high jinx:
changing the law
Democratic voodoo:
shrunken heads plotting in a closed voting booth
Every official act done 
is shrinking your liberty too
Step aside, sista ... 
you’re in the way
They’re taking us backwards,
from the ghetto projects to a Stonehenge cave
If you’re not part of the solution,
you’re a problem child
They’re blocking us in,
moving the goal posts again
You need to focus ... gain cultural clarity
Get past the who to the why
For your posterity 
are you brave enough to die?
If not, then get out of the way,
quit stumbling blocking
You’re too comfortable where you lay,
apathy is a sin ...
For the wrong things, you always pray
Aimlessly wandering,
with your G.P.S. needle wildly spinning
Your sense of direction
is blown askew in the wind
You’re in my way,
so step aside ...
Or you’re gonna have a bad day — 
New enemy, old friend
seems you’re going the wrong way again

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.

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