You Wouldn't Want
To Blame The
Inevitability Of
Their Fallacy
If You Knew
They Were You.
Of Course It
Isn’t Your Fault.
You Don’t Have
A Clue.
If They Were You
Then:
You'd Be Them...
***
And All That
Quantum Theory
Crap.
You Have Lotsa Clues.
Whatever, Not So Fast...
Right, I MEANT To
Do That.
-Gray Squirrel
11-16-2025
Have it
At room
Temperature
Before cooking.
No marinade.
Just coarse salt
And pepper.
Hot heavy pan
Medium to high heat.
Flip when seared.
Dark brown.
Lower heat.
Lotsa butter,
Mushrooms,
Chopped shallots,
Drops of
Lee and Perrins.
Squirt of lemon &
Dash of parsley
At the end.
Have a warm plate.
Drop it all from the pan.
Keep plate
On low warm.
Let it sit for 20min.
Tenderloin is delicate.
(Hint: à la "Heart" from "DAMN YANKEES")
You gotta be smart
If you wanna get a part
In a movie or a play on Broadway
There are dues you must pay,
Play it smart.
If you've put on some weight,
Make sure your headshot's up-to-date.
Kid, you ain't the only blonde who can act,
There are some fat ones, in fact,
But, lose the weight.
When you go to an audition,
One that's like a "cattle call",
Show your talent, heart, ambition,
A little leg,
Hell! Show it all.
Just say, oh screw it!
Disrobe and do it.
And when you finally get cast,
There's a way to make it last.
You can marry a producer, of course,
One who'll keep your sweet a**e performing art,
And art is all about heart…
Some talent helps, but mostly heart…
And T and A, but lotsa heart…
But first you gotta be smart.
you haffa come jake, rodeo won’t be fun without yew.
I’m sorta gonna help with the wrangl’n.
Jake coulda gone, but he wanted to see Sally
new dance hall girl that worked in the big saloon
musta made six excuses, lotsa them
I gotta meet Bob he lied
Don’t wanna try for the silver belt buckle?
Jake shoulda gone rodeoing.
who knew Sally woulda married?
Lesson learned - lying don’t ever help a cowboy.
"A straight! Two-three, five-six and eight,"
but Mildred bleated, "Ain't no straight;
you, Alice-ewe, are one dumb rump."
Bright chortles burbled round the stump
till Jingles raised, "Two straws of hay,"
too rich for Fay-Fay: "I can't play,
though, know that ram hauled in by truck?
I thought he gave me … lotsa luck!"
Suzette guffawed, "Not luck you meant."
"Perv, pigsty's where your mind has went!"
"Well, we all know why he's brung here …"
"Too bad it's only once a year."
"Who poofed?" sneered Molly, "That's so crass!
Wow, someone dined on rancid grass …"
Embarrassed Mildred urged, "Just play,
let's brighten up this gloomy day."
Belle brooded, "Yeah, dawn brings the shears …"
"Well you look cute, nude tail to ears."
"And your sagged udder shows you're old!"
Tense silence fell--that barb was bold--
but Alice, heedless, claimed, "Two pair!"
which drew the wrath of Mildred's stare:
"Two fives, a two with ten on top?
You're one stupid mutton chop …"
Life consists of a happy youth
The beginning of a lifelong arc
Then a dear dear family comes next
Life is like a day in the park
Joy and laughter are number one
We just can't believe our luck
Then we notice our first grey hair
And panic begins to erupt
Must be a mistake, it can't be true
I'm right at the top of the curve
Perhaps a grave error has just occurred
Now “grave” that ain't a good word
Still very vibrant and filled with pizzaz
I'm much too young to get old
However I do feel a chill, it just can't be
This body's starting to feel cold
Imagination is running away with me
Still got lotsa gas in the tank
Just hit the ancient age of eighty years old
Guess I've got good genes to thank!
you haffa come jake, rodeo won’t be fun without yew.
I’m sorta gonna help with the wrangl’n.
Jake coulda gone, but he wanted to see Sally
new dance hall girl that worked in the big saloon
musta made six excuses, lotsa them
I gotta meet Bob he lied
Don’t wanna try for the silver belt buckle?
Jake shoulda gone rodeoing.
who knew Sally woulda married?
Lesson learned - lying don’t ever help a cowboy.
Feel some silliness coming on
But why am I not surprised
It's who I am, a jester by trade
But a harmless kind of a guy
If you're expecting tear jerking stuff
You'd be outta luck my mate
Recently been posting lotsa giggles
Get outta town 'fore it's too late
Beat it or you'll be seriously addicted
It'll surely take over your psyche
Click somewhere else, take my advice
It's never too late, by crikey
But if you do happen to get addicted
An emergency line you can call
Is “Giggles Anonymous” look it up
Free for you poets all
Oh, I'm a Limmerjack and I'm okay
I sleep all night and I write all day
I write silly stuff, I fry my brain
I go to the lava-tree
On weekday's I get hammered
And write about thirty-three
I write pretty poems
I eat lotsa stuff
I goes to the lava-tree
On weekday's I get hammered
And write about thirty-three
CHORUS
I write silly stuff, I fry my brain
I pick wild flowers
I dress up in women's clothing
And hang around in showers
Oh, I'm a Limmerjack and I'm okay
I sleep all night and I write all day
My apologies
Why do rich kids grow up thinking they can change the whole world
It's inconceivable, dishonest -- not to mention stupid, absurd
They rarely, if ever, change their parents' or siblings' opinions
No to mention their school-teachers' and administrators' decisions
Confront 'em with the Truth: It's hard work, so up and at 'em
And you'll probably have to start way down at the bottom
But that's not appealing to rebels with 'global community' dreams
So they protest for 'equity,' go to jail, get out and imbibe lotsa James Beam
Certainly. There's lotsa stuff
that's no more.
Certainty, like death, is forever.
Change stops when you're dead.
Change does just that, keeps changing.
You can give up smoking
yet you can't give up changing.
Gave up smokin' fifty years ago.
Cigarettes, ash trays, things of my past.
There's something about ashes
everyone eventually ends up there.
Many of us make ashes of ourselves.
These Ifs surely can get ya.
And those Ands keep comin'.
But the Butts
no more for me.
Funny how this works.
Certainty, good riddance.
No Ifs Ands or Butts.
19 Lines Free Verse 93 Words October 2022
Pen illustration G. Gaul
There is a squat/stout duffer in a windbreaker and a Mets cap on the outskirts of the park
playing a rickety 5 string and hoot'in and holler'in.
I have no idea what he is singing.
There is no discernible melody.
Every now and then he stops/ freezes/ puts his forefinger in the air
to take some sort of measure
before plunging back into his flailing guitar.
After another stuttering burst he will stop/
then let loose with an elongated cry to the sky/
punk operatic/ style
nobody seems to stop/and listen/he does not have a container for contributions and probably would not get much trade/
he is playing/for his own/self/and that is / enough
It's/utterly senseless/ wholly out of key.
Beyond the realm of anything/
resembling cohesive musicality
/rambunctiously obtuse
yet imbued with an innocence that casts proficient excellence into a pallid light.
His songs/ performance/ like life/ a messy and inconclusive/ thing/
You can have/ your polished practice and Carnegie aspirations/
and make of that an evening/ with class
but I like the way this codger lets her rip/
this ragged chanteur/
airs it out/ no class/ no talent/ but lotsa / style
A giant glass of warmed up milk
A great bedtime elixir
Don't know bout you, all my dear dear friends
Prefer pie as a bedtime fixer
Now I know I'm being extremely naughty
But I'm in my eighties, by cracky
Who gives a poop if I'm a contrary old geezer
It's my right I've accepted my fate
Always been known as a sweet old duffer
Time to call a spade a spade
Thought you knew me, sure fooled all youse guys
The crankiest sapien made
My most intimate friends know not to cross me
To feel my wrath would be deadly
They stay clear of any controversial subjects
So they don't make the boat unsteady
At one time in my life it was important to me
To be loved and to have lotsa friends
Not any more just couldn't give two hoots
Eighty and nearing the end
Who knows how much time we all have left
No guarantees we'll even see tomorrow
So from this day forward gonna make my own rules
From now on gonna rest on my laurels
LOL
Life consists of a happy youth
The beginning of a lifelong arc
Then a dear dear family comes next
Life is like a day in the park
Joy and laughter are number one
We just can't believe our luck
Then we notice our first grey hair
And panic begins to erupt
Must be a mistake, it can't be true
I'm right at the top of the curve
Perhaps a grave error has just occurred
Now “grave” that ain't a good word
Still very vibrant and filled with pizzaz
I'm much too young to get old
However I do feel a chill, it just can't be
This body's starting to feel cold
Imagination is running away with me
Still got lotsa gas in the tank
Just hit the ancient age of eighty-six years
Guess I've got good genes to thank!
There are some things in life
That we never forget
Buried deep down in our soul
Our very first kiss
Our first two wheel bike
The very first cookie we stole
Nothing quite compares
To a lifetime of memories
A treasure trove to cherish forever
Our sixty-five Chevy
With a 350 engine
Feelings never equaled ever
Nostalgic these memories
When the world was new
Our life was just waiting to be lived
Experiencing new things
Exciting new adventures
We've got so much giving to give
My time's still not done
To throw in the towel
Plan to still be around for a while
Got stuff to explore
Lotsa places to see
Still wide-eyed and eager like a child
Sub Categories
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.