Long Amusing Poems
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It’s been many years since I’d climbed the wooden steps to my parent’s attic. The hinges of the trap door creak and a cloud of dust rises as I push the door open. I fumble for the light switch; it takes several minutes for the dust to settle and for my eyes to become accustomed to the gloom from the single bulb.
I survey the small space, which is packed to the hilt with hidden treasures. I sit cross-legged in a cramped corner and delve one of the many boxes.
relics of childhood
packed in old cardboard boxes
I find my old bear
My mother had carefully packed away many of my old toys and keepsakes from my schooldays and high days and holidays. Oh how I laughed when I read some of the comments on my school reports and workbooks, it made for very amusing reading! I get quite emotional when I sort through photograph albums and see the faces of those who are no longer with us.
cherished memories
as I leaf through the pages
I wipe away tears
After several hours reminiscing I’ve selected a couple of items, which were once so dear to me; and then I finally close the door on the past.
Picture 3
Photostory Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
11-15-17
Oh how I love to read poems by Viv Wigley
He has me in hysterics and makes me go giggly
Ilene Bauer has a wonderful wit
Her clever humour is a real smash hit
Jack Ellison pens many a funny line
Makes me laugh, his humour is divine
John Wulf tributicks make me smile
He has a wonderful amusing style
Lindsay Laurie is an amusing guy
His hilarious poems catch my eye
Maurice Rigoler is a very funny man
I read his clever poems whenever I can
Jerry T Curtis I find is very funny
If he wrote a book he’d make lots of money
Darren Watson brings a smile to my face
His British sense of humour I think is ace
I cannot fail to mention the fabulous Arthur Vaso
He paints with funny words far better than Picasso!
Limericks are the forte of Duke Beaufort
These clever 5 line poems are my favourite sort
There are many other poets that I love to read
But humourous poets are my favourite breed
Contest:- Who are those funny Poets
Sponsor:- Judy Konos
13th November 2015
Feeding The Ducklings
While picking up my little daughter from school
We were to follow the path passing a pool,
only to watch ducks and ducklings
swimming, playing, gaily giggling.
Blowing breeze over water was soothing and cool.
My child was to throw bread-piece from pocket
or to hit tiny fruits with her racket
to drop those and float on water surface.
Flock of ducklings swam on rapid race
to swallow floating fruits on prompt attempt.
On her primary school days that was a routine.
Feeding of ducklings was funny and fine.
Merry ducklings always follow duck
Amusing cheerful calls ‘Quack-Quack’.
A sweet remembrance of my child and mine.
05/12/16
A MUSE – OR AMUSING?
You say that you love my poetry;
You tell me all the time.
My syllable count is perfection,
You’ve been seduced by my rhyme.
When you introduce me to your friends,
You refer to me as your ‘bard’.
But although that’s rather flattering,
There’s one thing I’m finding hard.
It’s one thing waxing lyrical
About my poetry.
But I’m longing for that day I hear
You say that you love ME!
Suppose I lost my rhythm
And my rhyming pattern was wrong?
What if my number of syllables clashed
With “Howmanysyllables dot com”?
Would you still love me for what I am
Or would you be averse
To live with a mere mortal
Who couldn’t compose a verse?
The macabre’s amusing at times,
makes for off-beat, hilarious rhymes.
To my wife they’re not funny;
she wants cute little bunnies
and not ones that are strangled by mimes.
She says, “Why must the animals die?
And that one with the bird made me cry.
In the end, she did soar
off to some distant shore,
but her kin were all shot by some guy.”
“Ah, but see how it’s seared in your brain:
a phenomenon hard to explain.
It’s odd how we’re wired;
The inane makes us tired,
but an image of death will remain.”
So why aim for the grand or sublime?
Find dead leopards instead on a climb!
For the joy in the tragic,
trawl the semi-pelagic
when your muse loves primordial slime.
I praise God for modern telecommunications’ inventions
Making mankind benefit so well
But I feel bad, when in their vexing, “gobsmack” malfunctions
I become dysfunctional; thus, my exasperation-nerves swell!
I thank God for computer experts
For their good contributions, indeed numerous
Yet I got nervous when their genius alerts
Warn me of glitches’ “bamboozles” due to internet-driven virus!
I seek God for His enlightening wisdom
When confused with social media's bewildering entanglements
I’m sad though for those who abuse information-freedom
As they deny and neglect consequences of their engagements!
I pray to God to guard me from being deceitfully puzzled
With varied scams’ alluring appeal and financially enticing
By global transactions “gobsmacking” netizens to be wealth-dazzled
Using fake identities; yet others’ privacy --- compromising and exposing!
I trust God for His control midst “hacking” ventures
Of ill intentions, never amusing, to wreck information sites
Such are shocking “bamboozling” gestures
Dominated by selfishness-blights and greediness' heights!
I rely with faith as I rejoice* in God Who knows what’s best
Despite “gobsmack, bamboozle and confusion”-attacks…
To Him do I yield my questions for His great answers to the fullest
Since His omniscience subdues my doubts with His truth’s packs!
*1Chronicles 16:10 Glory ye in his holy name: let the heart of them rejoice that seek the LORD.
November 5, 2011
What do healthy systems,
naturally spirited,
ecologically enlightened
and ego-politically empowered swell
Wellness
anthro-economic networks
wonder,
often wander around
what do wealthy mindbody systems do
when the Body squarely says
"I'm doing all I can comfortably do"
And the unsatisfied Mind asks
"Why is my need for healthy integrity
neglected
deflected
ignored
unrestored?"
at least half
my less than thriving
time
in your embodied space
In musical pace
and game face
and systems empirical place
anticipating lyrical theory embrace,
This BodyMind feels a dissonant gap
between a comfortably expected
repetitively resonant accord
in music narrative compositions
as traditionally played
and replayed pitch perfect
military march uniformity
with RightBody empowered control
Over-riding a deeply serene
enlightened LeftMind unity
preference becoming contenting content
of EarthTribe's sacred stereophonic
love story, life systemic
Waiting curiously,
and thereby less impatiently
win/lose pushing individual performance,
self-prophetically solo lonely
Waiting for our next cooperative
muse amusing immersion
peak climatic experience
designed
orchestrated
choreographed
Win/Win improvisational
in sacred
therapeutic scores
and scales
of resonant empowering harmony
enlightening multi-lateral symphony
in keys of bicameral rhapsody,
health/wealth systemic
ecstasy.
What do healthy systems,
naturally spirited,
ecologically enlightened
and ego-politically empowered smell
retell outside swell
escaping inside
consumer retail hell.
I wandered lonely as a cloud*
to places far and wide
I often thought it would be fun
to rain down on a bride
Or maybe on a summer Fete
as rain is something people hate
When dressed up in their finery
they saunter in the sun
chittering, chattering making small talk
having so much fun
Maypole dancers looking pretty
dancing round and round
Morris men they hop and skip
with flowery hats and wooden poles
As carefully they prance and dance
big men like them don’t want to fall
big men like them don’t want to trip
All hot and sweaty they need a shower
or would their smiles turn to a glower
For I’d be doing them a favour
Or maybe it would spoil their day
On a hot and sunny day in May
But I am getting really bored now
Floating around and hanging about
Naughty and mischievous
These words describe just how I felt
Oh dear ~ now is that mean of me
As one, two, three I let one free
My shower is scattering screeching crowds
Soaking them through to their undies
This weather not what one would expect
on sunny summer Sundays
They are now up to their knees in mud
amusing the cows whilst chewing their cud
Then just for fun a handful of hail stones
can be rather painful from a height
Crashing down upon their heads
and giving all the gals a fright
But enough is enough I hear you say
So I return them to a sunny day
I’ve had my fun
I’ve had my thrills
now wander lonely as a cloud*
in search of golden daffodils…
Written 1st February 2020
Contest: Famous poetic lines that inspire
Sponsor: Silent One
2nd Place
line taken from poem written by William Wordsworth*
'I wandered lonely as a cloud'
Contest: Strand Select B
Sponsor; Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Amelia she loves to chat and tells an amusing story
But dear readers BEWARE – this one’s a little gory
She worked long hours at night as a barmaid
It was a job she loved and good wages she got paid
She’d had a busy day and her pits were a little whiffy
So she had a little bath – it would only take a jiffy
So into the bath Amelia got, she sank into the bubbles
But this was only the beginning of Amelia’s troubles
Amelia did a little fart but unfortunately followed through
And in the bath was floating a little bit of poo
Amelia got out quickly and left the bath to drain
But unbeknown to her the turd it did remain
She got dressed and ready to go - she had to get her lift
To the pub she loved to work in she always enjoyed her shift
With the customers Amelia was always a big hit
She didn’t let on her secret that in the bath she’d done a little poop*
But it was a Wednesday night and a quiz was on this day
Amelia she loved this challenge and she would always play
The final question stumped many people but they wanted to be the winner
Which barmaid crapped in the bath tonight and could they name the sinner?
The one in the white t-shirt some of the customers did shout
Amelia went as red as a beetroot- she couldn’t wait to get out
But the customers they did shout and cheer
And poor Amelia had to pour them another beer
Now Amelia no longer works in the bar
She works as a receptionist – she’s really come far
She loves her new job and always likes to talk
But to stop her following through now she always wears a cork.
· I had to change this from the S*** word as I know swearing is not allowed – but the expletive does make the poem flow better.
Jan Allison
19th March 2014
~submitted for contest Take 2 Free poetry contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud ~
- Unplaced in contest 'tickle my funny bone' sponsored by Francine Roberts ~
~ Please see notes about this poem ~
BAT SONG
(This Song was written in 2009 for a dramatised Rap Music & Dance Group in Rural South Africa. They wanted an amusing song with a message incorporating an unusual rural image. It unfortunately was not performed on stage, but the young teenage group had great fun practicing the drama-song.)
[TWO CHORUSES]
She tried to fly
was too blind
Up she went, fell, fell
flapping webbed wings
in a dirty night
[CHORUS 1
Dark dank night
Not knowing when
not knowing what
Blind bat, bland bat
blank bat]
On electric pylons rested
she was persecuted, prostituted
they stalked her, sallied her
stoned her
in a dirty night
[CHORUS 1
Dark dank night
Not knowing when
not knowing what
Blind bat, bland bat
blank bat]
Sirens screeched, screamed
What are you ?! Who are you ?!
you simpleton sleazy bat
we will slice your wings
in a dirty night
[CHORUS 1
Dark dank night
Not knowing when
not knowing what
Blind bat, bland bat
blank bat]
THEN came beckoning
Bella, Bella, Bella !
abating abating
up on electric bars
a fast bat out of bell
out of bell
not batting a lid
singing batwing
snippets
[CHORUS 2
Velvet night, vortex night
knowing when, knowing what
bold belly bat !
bold belly bat ! ]
No fear she fluttered and flew
I’m flaunting soaring strange
no slicing webbed wings ordained
me no belittling blind
crazy as a dime
[CHORUS 2
Velvet night, vortex night
knowing when, knowing what
bold belly bat !
bold belly bat ! ]
A scavenger slunk away
sirens slipped into sewers
cities in distress
raised up their brows at
beckoning bats doing
a bogey woogy
doing a bogey woogy
a batty bogey woogy
[CHORUS 2
Velvet night, vortex night
knowing when, knowing what
bold belly bat !
bold belly bat ! ]
©GhairoDanielsPoetry
&Song2009