Woman is a hole,
Soft with spongey walls,
Press the button, make her howl,
Crash through her virgin halls.
A newborn baby, little girl,
Fresh kitchen rag to store,
Waiting ignorant of the day,
When she too will be soiled.
Decades later, kitchen rags,
Sit discarded in a bin,
A loony bin for hags to talk,
And squeeze out salty drips.
Streaming semen pulling tears,
Out of ragged women,
In a circle all but holes,
Men uninvited saunter in.
Funny farm or loony bin?
Depends what kind of mood I’m in
Mad house increases my lunacy
I take my pills and watch tv
Fall asleep, don’t care if it is night or day
The attendants are glad, I am out of their way
This asylum increases my natural lunacy
Weird attendants seem worse off than me
Winter Wonderland Winter Schmunderland
I've had it up to my ying yang
If I never see another snowflake in my life
My big bass drum I'd bang
Wonderland, Schmunderland I've had enough
Don't know how I've made this far
Except for those few times in the loony bin
Still have my marbles, by gar
Well at least I think I still have my marbles
But sure wish I could feel my mouth
This Winter Schmunderland is really for the birds
Even they have sense to head south
Winter Wonderland Winter Schmunderland
Who really needs all of this crap
I'd certainly be a very much happier camper
If I could wear a hat without flaps
COMPARTMENTALIZATION
Friends, absolutely believe why
not in the “Loony Bin?
Compartmentalized my stresses,
so messes … not get in!
Compartments help me remember,
one illness at a time.
Must do cause, "nine" problems have, not
about to loose ... my mind!
Compartments, real life savers, now
one job at time, tackle.
Improved old age focus, glad
husband … didn't spackle.
Compartmentalize medications
if don't, embarrassed be.
Took water pills, before party,
oops … in “Depend’s” did pee.
Doc’s now compartmentalize, which
body part they'll inspect.
Last visit showed my sagging boobs,
examine ... was for my neck!
Crucial to compartmentalize, must
do each week heard some say.
Might put off till tomorrow, cause
tomorrows ... another day.
July 31, 2023
Contest: compartmentalization
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Shall we send the lady with the scotty dog a card?
The neighbors did not know her well. Mrs. McDard.
They had heard some rumors, but nothing reliable.
Like her husband was an institution, totally certifiable.
I have not met him, but I heard he is in a loony bin.
This came from one of the oldies, Mrs. Lulu Skin.
I heard he is a player, and he ran away.
They were all watching her get her valentine that day.
Winter Wonderland, Winter Schmunderland
I've had it up to my ying yang
If I never see another snowflake in my life
My big base drum I'd bang
Wonderland, Schmunderland, I've had enough
Don't know how I've made this far
Except for those few times in the loony bin
Still have all my marbles, by gar
Well at least I think I still have my marbles
But sure wish I could feel my mouth
This Winter Wonderland is for the birds
Even they have sense to head south
Winter Wonderland, Winter Schmunderland
Who really needs all this crap
I'd certainly be a very much happier camper
If I could wear a hat without flaps
SheGirl is tamping down her blanket, comfy cattitude.
Pat pat pat pat pat pat, I admire her stealthy attitude.
She has me firmly in my place now, glad I have my popcorn.
We watch The Horrible Bosses movie, both happy, none forlorn.
When we hear words like “hit” and “kill” I cover SheGirl’s ears.
My husband asks what I am doing, for he has no fears.
This emotionally delicate cat with a heart of gold understands this talk.
I know she does; she is a reincarnate of my aunt, and does her walk.
When we are alone I call her Marjorie, my aunt’s preferred name.
We play Monopoly, my reincarnated auntie’s favorite board game.
I don’t bother to share this information or her nickname with him.
He is on his own couch lying next to his hound dog, named Jim.
Jim reminds me of his father, but I keep my mouth wisely shut.
I do not want him to think I am ready for a crazy loony bin hut.
Just before we go to bed I hear him say “Jim, I am glad….
That you are here beside me, for you smell like my dad.”
Trump In Loony Bin Horn Haiku
Trump commits each sin
He belongs in loony bin
Also thin is skin.
Jim Horn
Running as fast as I can, I am
But I can't keep up with myself
Just like Speedy Gonzales
My mind has really gone south
Must be something I can take no doubt
To slow the damn process down
Might end up in the loony bin
Or the clown of my old home town
Could be something I ate methinks
Known to try different stuff
Saw our Golden enjoying some plants
Weeds and dandelion puffs
So think I'll give it a shot my friends
My libido will likely speed up
I'll feel like a twenty year old again
Run around with all the young pups
Running as fast as I can, I am
But I can't keep up with myself
Better slow down I ain't young no more
Must take care of my health
© Jack Ellison 2015
WROTE A BUJA...
A buja wrote a song
it rubbed the who in power
the wrong way...
to the slammer bujas..
committed himself
self imposed insanity....
Called his government plunderers
stealing from the poor mans pockets
the system turned on the heat....
and our young bujas -
declared himself mentally insane...
committing himself to the loony bin...
The young musician
gave them people good advice
...its hard to get a good advice,
while lacking in cash or scandals....
and scandal-ed he was
and advice we got...utawala
the Rule of the elites..
Lewis k Nyaga
(continued from While Caesar watches for Brutus Part One)
Then you think of a face you love, those prayers begin
You try to crawl safely back in
The crowd disperse with taunts of " chicken"
You reach for the priest's hand, you begin to stand
But you slip on a pigeon's shhhhhh........
You awaken in a body cast from head to toe
Napoleon and Caesar are debating the earth's woe
Nurse Ratchet comes in and blows a pill down your spout
You've bought a one way ticket to loony bin, with no way out
The world is so mechanical
It's becoming so scientific
It is getting to be so-so difficult
Your eyes search for answers
Your lips mutter why
Then you glance and Napoleon walks by
He salutes you, his wounded comrade
And kisses your cheeks
You smile, Napoleon smiles
While Caesar watches for Brutus.
Winter Wonderland, Winter Schmunderland
I've had it up to my ying yang
If I never see another snowflake in my life
My big bass drum I'd bang
Wonderland, Schmunderland, I've had enough
Don't know how I've made this far
Except for those few times in the loony bin
Still have my marbles, by gar
Well at least I think I still have my marbles
But sure wish I could feel my mouth
This Winter Schmunderland is really for the birds
Even they have sense to head south
Winter Wonderland, Winter Schmunderland
Who really needs all of this crap
I'd certainly be a very much happier camper
If I could wear a hat without flaps
© Jack Ellison 2014
Need a cuddle, are you available?
Promise not to linger too long
Perhaps seven or possibly eight hours
Maybe till the break of dawn
Enough time to satisfy this craving
That lingers day and night
Soon gonna wind up in the loony bin
If I can't taste your sweet delights
Need a cuddle, are you available?
To take me to heaven's door
Promise not to overstay my welcome
Till eternity, not a moment more
Must've done something, don't know what
To deserve your tender love
Can't think of what it could have been
But you've given my heart a shove
Succumbed to your delicate beauty
Many many years ago
The flame's stayed alive for all this time
Still making this old heart glow
Need a cuddle, are you available?
Promise not to linger too long
Maybe an eternity plus ten lifetimes
An eternity filled with song
© Jack Ellison 2013
Hearts in the way
Of what you couldn't see
Happy ever after
Or terror it could be
Running for the sunlight
When the moon holds on too tight
Its hard just to breath
And something isn't right
Why is love so broken
And found bleeding on the floor
Why are you split open
When you deserve much more?
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.