Hissy Poems | Examples

Pain of separation

Painful among pains is separation
that will throw yourself into desperation 
no matter the time of it
it's more harmful than a hissy fit
It's a kind of desperation 
Oh! A very painful situation 
Either it’s a two-legged man
that you have termed as human
or a four-legged man
that you tamed with humane
If it leaves once 
and never comes
pain remains in heart
and often saddens a lot

Wild Willie my Stegosaurus

outside, I usually I keep my stegosaurus Wild Willie hidden,
but if I shriek  he comes at a gallop, feeling validated and bidden.
Police have come twice, called by my neighbor Sam, who is full of fright.
I laugh, asking who has ever seen a real dinosaur, right?

Willie cannot got to work with me, because I work at an elementary school.
They do not even allow pets, for fear they might sweat, potty, bite or drool.
He stays at home in his corner eating eggs and rice, watching Netflix.
His tail accidentally opens the curtains, which causes a real conflict.

I bring home eggs and rice, so Willie is totally content and clean.
He has a little poo pile out back, where his poos are used for flower sheen.
We have never had an argument or disagreed on anything remotely big.
Except he did have a hissy fit when I suggested adopting a pot-belly pig.

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

Lucinda is Out of Her Mind

She is out of her mind her relatives said.
They wanted her embalmed, cremated or dead.
Lucinda had her wits and was not to be dissuaded.
She gave them all the boot, they were downgraded.

She had a dream, and intended to put it into action.
Wanted a gingerbread house to give satisfaction.
Builder and construction crew were happy to do it.
Relatives inheriting nothing had a huge hissy fit.

Bookshelf Brags a Bit

Bookshelf was bragging a little bit
Plants love my shelves!
End table had a hissy fit.
observed by three elves.

Why do you brag like this? She angrily said.
Irritated because her orchid plant was terribly dead.

Bookshelf had a bit of a secret too.
Plants that loved him were the ones that do….
Like living in the shadows, no sunlight hue.

He did not help End Table, for she was not that nice.
She stuck out her drawer tongue, not once, but twice.

Keys

The weather forecast was right,
the climate did indeed change,
mother Earth threw a hissy fit.

Damage was done needlessly.
Good men and a few women wept,
most shrugged - as I do - did.

Cities are under a threat
nothing specific, just random rumors.
Miami is basking as usual
however whales are dying
in numbers
environmental concerns were shelved
ignored,
prairie dogs dug deeper holes

They knew
they knew all along!
If only I had turned on the TV.
and not overslept
dreaming of an afterlife in Key West.

Angels Among Us

Angels among us do not make a big splash
They do not kick their feet and demand attention
They do not yell, scream, shriek or have hissy fits
Angels among us quietly float through life….

Doing the right things
Helping others
Serving their neighbors
Holding the hands of their friends

Angels among us can be depended upon
We call on them first
No matter how busy they are
Knowing they will help us without expecting anything in return

This Poetry, This Demon's Game

The contests number 22
Oh, dear, oh my, what should I do
I must choose one
I must, I think
My printer’s running out of ink

I’ll pick a theme
A gentle dream
That ends up in
A freakin’ scream.

I’ll write a brilliant
Subtle Sonnet
Before it’s done
Already torn it.

Perhaps a bit of freeing verse
Meter and a line break curse
That taunts the temper of the muse
To hissy fits of “No!!  You Choose.”

Mayhap I’ll wrestle with just one
Pick a form and hope it’s fun
Alas, alack, call it by name
This poetry - this demon’s game.

John G. Lawless
©9/16/2022

Geese

The geese have come.
They congregate in
parking lots, preen and strut.

Today they waddle in line
as smug as fat gangsters
as they slowly cross a busy road.

We are not allowed to shoo them,
hurry them, harry them,
besides they are always bad tempered,
always ready to throw a hissy fit.

We wait, engines idling,
feel good about being this patient,
this considerate for their well-being.

I wonder what they think about us;
we who daily get in their way?

In less sensitive times
we would tuck a plump goose under an arm
on our way to Christmas.

Progress I guess.

New Dog Meets the Queen - Hlm

new dog on the porch
our pet cat at the window
shrieks like a banshee

Indignation hair-raisingly sounded
when our “queen” cat was more than astounded
by the new pet Dad brought
to the house. Cat wailed “NOT
on MY watch.” Then that poor dog she hounded.

our cat’s hissy fit goes down as the worst in her catdom’s hiss-tory.


Jan. 25, 2022
For Charles Messina's Charlie Hai-Lim-Ku Poetry Contest

(inspired by a YouTube Video I saw on FB. it just cracks me up)

Doo Doo the Cat

Doo Doo the cat was irritated today; totally not sweet.
She had gone to the roof, and Horned Owl was sitting in her seat.
That is my place, she said, but his look could easily defeat.
He rolled his eyes, and went to sleep, his thoughts now complete.

Come on! Doo Doo shrieked. I need my seat; it is where I sit.
She screamed and yelled and stomped, had a big hissy fit.
Horned Owl raised an eyebrow but it did not annoy him one bit.
He closed his eye back up, to a narrow tiny half slit.

Doo Doo nearly had a conniption fit, she was angry as heck.
She went down to the barn and spoke to the hen named Old Peck.
You are annoying a Horned Owl? You are as crazy as young Beck.
Who is young Beck? She asked. A chick eaten by Horned owl. Oh heck!

Do Horned Owls eat cats? Doo Doo asked, horrified and now scared.
If you go back up there, you will find out, Old Peck said. She cared.
So Doo Doo the cat let Horned Owl have her favorite seat on the roof.
But she carries pepper spray now. Horned Owl’s eyes carry the proof.

Marvelous Minnie

Marvelous Minnie had a hissy fit and threw her lamp down the stairs.
It hit an elf, a gargoyle, and four children dressed as Goldilocks and the Bears.
They ran up to see what was going on in the Witch’s crazy old mind.
I am sorry, she said. I did not think ahead, this was truly unkind.

And so they forgave her, but the next thing she decided to do….
Was to throw stuff out the window, and a couch landed on two.
They were shrieking and screaming and wailing to beat the band.
I don’t even care, she said. I thought their motives were underhand.

Come on! Her Auntie Feefife said. Give them a break, they turned into curd.
Transmogrify them into something else please, their squawking is rather absurd.

Mixologist

A radical racist 
American hating mixologist
(along with a trio of she devils)
want to clip the ability 
of God's children
to defend themselves
from terrorist attacks.
She didn't get her wish
threw a hissy fit
wept jackass tears
over the house of congress.

They'll keep trying to crush Israel
as Satan's lot are a persistant bunch.. 
their hearts brimming with lye
souls so thick with arrogance 
they think they can spar 
with God and survive..
but the courtyard of God is pristine 
and his wrath is fathomless
and within those karmic depths 
is where those hateful rats will drown.

Book Ends

Bookends call a gaggle of bedraggled books to attention.
The big fat tomes, short stories, paperback,
are all pulled into line, toe-to-toe buttressed on parade.
Books need bookends to get propped up and be seen,
to get up out of bed, get dressed and be presentable.
Likewise, bookends need books to lean against
or else they topple over in a huddle.
They pine, sigh, moan and whimper, 
with no books to embrace and cup one-handed.
Like spoilt kids they chuck temper tantrum fits, 
get hissy, fall over, lay on the shelf and sulk.
So remember to keep your books and bookends 
in happy symbiosis, with good reads kept to attention,
held in check by bossy bookend majors.
But, beware, those cheeky bookends tittle tattle at night,
and can speed read between the lines. 
They skip the plot, and jump straight to
'In the Beginning' and 'The End'.

Trixie and I

Trixie is begging me to write something new
She is on my toes, twirling her baton with lights all blue
They are flashing in my eyes, beeping in my face.
She is agitated, says I am a huge disgrace.

The stuff you are writing today is something already seen.
I stick out my tongue, feeling childish and mean. 
That is not attractive she says, with a snotty huff.
So I get out my fingers and start writing stuff.

Does she help me? Not in the least not a bit.
And to think she was the one having the hissy fit.
She is in a weird mood, this little muse of mine.
But it is okay, because most days she is fine.

She is coming over to peek at what I have done.
She rolls her eyes and says "That isn't any fun!"
Now she is typing, taking the keyboard away.
I have no qualms that we'll make up by the end of the day.

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