Long Guffawing Poems
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Sand flows much too quickly in that goldarn hour glass
I'm no spring chicken, but I'll have to take a pass
If a guy thinks he rocks
Wearing fuzzy socks and crocs
That nerdy look is just too dorky for this lass
I've had lots of men flirt with me throughout the years
But one dressed like that and I'd be laughing with tears
He'd make an impression
And from my expression
He'd be very embarrassed by guffawing jeers
There's a rumor about Batman going around
When he saw Robin wearing socks and crocs in town
He swatted him with a "ZONK!"
"Why are ya dressed like a punk?"
"Take those hideous things off or you're going down!!"
I've always admired a man who has self respect
One who dresses with class and style, I'd not reject
I'd call him a silver fox
In well-shined shoes, he walks
But in fuzzy socks and crocs, he'd look train wrecked!
Guys, if you want a lady's provocative glance
Invite her to dinner and then share a slow dance
But remember that your shoes
Will give her the helpful clues
She requires to let your flirting lead to romance
June 10th, 2021
Fuzzy Socks and Crocs Contest
Sponsored by: Francine Roberts
***********************'
Moonlight filters through the tree limbs
Leaving silhouettes of night phenomena
Just above the curb of the road there hymns
The guffawing of a nocturnal feathered fauna
Wearing a mask of colorful plumage
With eyes so round and bright they glimmer
Showing the readiness of true courage
The shadow bird is definitely not a bawler
As only a sideways glimpse coincides
I see the beautiful owl take to flight
Avoiding my gaze as it quietly glides
Hooting at a distant friend of the night
Will this beautiful bird be back again?
Or will only the night see it then?
Written on July 29th, 2014
For: Night Owl - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
They are all laughing and guffawing.
But they do not read the books I do.
And they do not have my heartfelt messages.
The ones that are so absolute
That I know what I know without knowing how
Yet I do know. Verification comes in goosebumps.
It is an inner knowing none of them have.
I do not tell them either
For it is something else they would laugh about.
What is going on? I ask them.
John thinks aliens are real, Tim says.
They explode into enormous carnival rides of laughter.
John gets mad and huffs off. I follow him.
Come on back! Someone yells. I ignore this.
I think we do have aliens I tell him. He says “yeah, right.”
Don’t bother, an inner voice says, but I ignore it.
I have thought it for a long time, I say.
He says something means and shoves off.
An inner voice says “told you.”
Yes, I knew better.
I had been trying to get someone to listen for the past ten years.
It is an inner knowing that aliens do exist.
My neck saturates itself with goosebumps
Verifying that aliens do exist.
That is how I know.
Party seemed dull
Music was boring
Nothing was happening
I was new to this group
I did not know what to expect
I heard someone say “wait until Carrie and Selena get here!
I asked who they were.
“you’ll see,” everyone told me.
An attractive couple of young women came in.
“is that?” No they kept saying over and over.
Carrie and Selena finally arrived.
They are the best! just wait!
I expected dancing elephants, and a six ring circus.
They were simple every day ordinary women
Until they began telling their tales.
They had all of us laughing and guffawing.
I never get tired of their stories.
I could barely wait until their next party.
Two women in their nineties turned the whole party around.
I have to go. They are now dancing on the kitchen counters
Twittered Via Chilled Wren
At Valley Forge, Pennsylvania
Prior carte blanche to confessing illicit
extra-marital affair
I embolden tomb ache
elicit, and baldly bare
faced laid out some
of the sordid details clear
embarrassed at one escapade
in particular constituting dear
peppy's questing randy romping caper
necessitating vigilance 'ere
a park ranger, (or other unsuspecting
winter weather way
Farer attired in gear
adequately bundled
cold as a witch's tit
seasoned trooper)
reluctantly repeated here
(unforgettable if only be
cause this "FAKE" Casanova ace
thee Missus i.e.wife)
did conversationally chase
beseeched, hen pecked,
and implored me NOT to erase
boot to recount with (itty bitty)
Monty Python glory, a straight face,
that one particular amazingly grace
obviously penned up,
and not in the write
mind (pre poetry daze),
which scurrilous anecdote
did (and still does) in vite
guffawing, sans
peculiar public philandering,
with atavistic cave man
designs tried to unite
where daunting phallus spite
confronting Arctic Vortex when right
lee let loose from pants
froze like a little popsicle quite
purposely remained flaccid
leaving me in a penile plight
when trying to hump
(standing up like a good Knight
comically ridiculous travesty)
With Barbara B****, light
of adventurous Green Beret spirit, the
Unabashed MILF about average height
fifty years, whose busty bosom
silicone breast implants
tell tale viz radiation
and chemo therapy fight
(resulting from post
Ductal Carcinoma in situ)
needless to tell
nary an erectile spell
Asper tinker soldier
tailor spy didst quell
basic animal instinct,
and feral gonadal horniness
with intent to consummate sexual intercourse
according tummy ought to occur,
cuz that blustery air
mirroring said day when hell
nearly froze over invoking
intervention from Cain and/or Abel.
Thus when prick remained
limp and nearly frost bitten
(at a boulder christened cock rock),
aye frostily smitten
slogging wet sneakers, thru
knee high snow...now, no mo' tubby written.
Form:
There was a little girl I knew
Whose smile so brightly grew
She listened to her Mom and Dad
Was always good and never bad
Once, she cleaned the oven interior
But, soon was feeling quite inferior
Her scrubbing and rubbing concluded
With her so sure she had been deluded
Nothing she did made the oven clean
Bringing its heart to such a great sheen
Finally, she asked her Mom for advice
Sure she’d take it no matter the price
Mom said, “Put some elbow grease in it”
So off she went to find the grime grit
It was only moments before she discovered
Her parents guffawing until they’d recovered
Make Me Laugh with Some Humor - Any Form - New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
November 23, 2020
This story happened back in the 70’s before there was any knowledge of a product called Elbow Grease
On the day of your party
Please be sure to invite
The Drunken Clown.
He offers steady humor
At a pace everyone can measure.
His drinks, give love and laughter ,
his expressions: love and empathy.
In a graded lawn he falls and tumbles,
His eyes red and bleeding,
Look to him to point and laugh.
Our drunken clown gets his payment
In full, pursuing the right wingers,
And guffawing with the left.
His sincerity bobbles in an ocean of booze.
Cheers and Slaintè to our drunken clown.
Salud, and Prost!
To our home
And I sleep the sleep
Of a thousand filtered souls,
In ungracious betterment,
And a hope to die by my own hand.
Vicious visions of a youth undocumented,
And a prayer I never have the balls to do it.
Aah... how great the taste of water...
After lounging in bed until
late morning/early afternoon
we (the missus and I) felt restless
as garden variety buffoon
or think chrysalis itching
to escape encased within cocoon
nevertheless, she mustered hubby
long since retired dragoon
late morning/early after light
clothing he must post haste festoon
he protested against testing
comfort zone merely donning galloon
his self conscious morphology
declaimed repeating honeymoon
embarrassing circumstance,
when caricature artist accentuated
pitiful spindle shanks published
front page see national lampoon
most recent issue or possibly
toothpick legs ought be printed June
a boot six days hence excluding
counting Memorial Day 2020
whereby barenaked ladies
(spouse included) unwittingly ironically,
farcically, and comically forced
skinny dipping under full moon
after newly bride & groom
pledged troth unwittingly nudist beach
entered momentarily devoid
of swimmers, who suddenly at noon
witnessed madding crowd
momentarily oblivious to laughingstock,
one after another burst out guffawing
(at my expense) at picayune
sorry/lame excuse for male
adult *****sapiens peculiar physique
courtesy anorexia nervosa
(when thirteen years old), I caused ruin
permanently stunting psychological
and physical characteristics,
for better part of existence
(mein kampf) uttered lamentable tune.
Absolute zero self worth (the
big goose egg) matter of fact will
state being earnest and frank
going on walk thru Schwenksville
thought person in every
passing vehicle (quite brisk traffic) rill
lee mocked appearance when
espying long haired pencil neck
geek fortunately blessed with
few gray strands deliberately colored via quill
to ad some convincing heft
to boyish good looks, though mill
stone metaphor linkedin with
living little approaching over hill
soon petering into becoming old
and senile, nope never got fill
of teenage romance, I started
dating during early twenties
deterrents to integrate among
including sounding think duckbill
nasal honking, and even hot spell
temps spiking high eighties/
low nineties dressed head
to foot ready for big chill,
especially cuz dehydration less likely.
The town which oozed the plain and lacklustre held them in a judo grip but by the same token itself seemed to become slyly going into step by step morph contraction.
“Donkeys are symbolic to a vast extent.
They exude such, indeed much ken.
Are they guffawing at us?
But just as you and I had our first encounter as children when on a short trip with our parents.
It was one of the few forms of entertainment available in this mystery shroud of a spot.
Where disposable income might be too easily disposed of.”
Both Nigella and Nigel found that ever since they met whilst nourishing the donkey, this donkey, its Mise en scene, its portentous presence had this uncanny knack of pursuit of both of them.
The strangest coincidences.
Idioms, expressions, the way people interacted, the synonyms for donkey in this town created a situation where the word donkey and a donkey’s environs, and other creatures in the habitat had this hypnotising invisible secretive yet insidious skulk.
“Have you even sensed, Nigella,a disconcerting shift and shunt this isolated district, the size, there has been a slow exit to boot. On boot.
Does it have its own booty?
We both smirk at that one.
Even as we interact there is this intended or unintended prank simmering….somewhere.
As if we might be shoehorned into a loosely scheduled drama.”
Nigel and nigella often mused and bandied about words asinine and their variants.
But devoid of concrete proposal or narrative life pulse in this strangeville of a town that was now a drift sand physically and in terms of folks who no longer existed resembled an abstruse puzzle when it shouldn't
While outside nor'easter
howls like banshees
vents temperature dips
into low double digits
fire breathing friendly
dragon (cue Barney
purple dinosaur)
crackling hearth,
yours truly snuggling
close proximity warming,
thawing, quelling...
cockles and muscles
atavistic visitations hover
brushes within subconscious
purring, mew zing catacombs
kickstarting, harkening,
dawning... *****sapiens
lion eye zing forebears
dormant memories thaw
predators vastly outnumbered
scattered goo goo dolls,
and beastie boy bands
recherché representatives
toehold barely latched
precarious niche easily
activated evolutionary quirk
imperceptibly bumped uglies
begot robust progeny
offspring expanding comfort zones
penumbra expanding edge of night
dark shadows receding further
outer limits of twilight zone
phantasmagoric shifting shapes (hint...
think Plato's One Republic)
phantasmagoric shifting shapes
alluring, beckoning, daring...
establishing, foraging, growing...
harvesting, invoking, jabbering
kowtowing, livingsocial,
matchmaking (ha)...
now lemme zip forward
bajillion years circa 1970's
British comedy troupe
nudge nudge wink wink,
know what I mean courtesy
Monty Python's Flying Circus
rollicking humorous sketches
oft times tackling primal urges
proto humans initially verbally grunted,
where guffawing laughter
rewarded survivalist basic instinct
temporarily staving rabid
quivering premonitions outside
creature comfort boundaries,
whereby Geico Caveman
will remain till... dis ember
by George thoroughly appetizer,
viz good chilled wren plus
pheasant under glass
burns away hunger pangs.