There once was a young masseuse called Mandy,
Whose clients confessed she was quite handy.
But when a 'big nob' named Jock,
Caused her to faint from her shock,
She was only revived with a brandy,
9/ 8/ 2026.
Said Fred, the resentful Doorman,
(overworked and underpaid)
to Ed, the surly Foreman,
(overrated yet undismayed)
'I'll call you a cab, if you beckon,
you'll want a quick getaway, I reckon,'
and snidely sniggered,
under his breath, 'You're a hack!'
surprising the top nob on the job,
as, Fred had the knack
of insulting, without denigrating,
and yet, debating
whether to hold a grudge,
Ed decided, 'Yes,' but not a big one,
which he couldn't carry, as it wouldn't budge.
And altho', toe to toe,
the two did not see eye to eye,
so, trading barbed epithets
and loud expletives on the fly,
they let go at one another,
I don't know, so don't ask me why.
What‘s better than a biscuit?
Hard to debunk
Treasure trunk funk
Should you let
It get wetter
Would you dare risk it?
The trick a quick dunk
Or could flunk..flick..kerplunk..
Mushy chunk sunk..messy junk
Slushy slunk..in the tea you drunk
So at your leisure
Pleasure one’s self
Don’t regret your stealth
Forget your health
Wealth beset on the shelf
So feeling restive?
Yearn for a digestive?
Appealing…suggestive
No shock..dark choc
What else will cut the mustard
With a brew…for a few bob
Recurring theme..does seem
Will always dream
About a custard cream
Almost sob…as I Lob
A hob-nob in me gob
Ta pour more cha
In fine fettle
Be a slob
Turn on the kettle
Bickies in the jar
On the sofa settle
Sins within tins
Spurn concern
Ignore the racket
As
Hats do doff
Knew from the off
On a roll
The sole goal
Quaff another cuppa
Down your cake hole
Scoff the whole packet!
I lost the frequency long ago
At first it hadn’t seemed important
I could barely tell the difference
But once it was gone I couldn’t get it back
There was a time where that didn’t matter
Then it did
And it was too late
They tried turning the nob
Hoping the new frequency would work
But it never did
The nob would twist
Left and right
Back and forth
As they watched me like a animal
Waiting for a new reaction
I would try
Dance to the new sound
Sing the new song
It did work for a while
But the second I tired
they would turn up the volume
The seemed to think if they could drown me in the sound
I wouldn’t drown myself
Old age and ache
Foot on brake pad
The shake stressing
Tibia’s throb
The knees nob and
Hobnob ankle twinge
Perhaps the doc
Takes off sock and
It’s all a crock
No thank you pain
Be no cane or
Slight strain of pace
Her ability to be true to herself frightened teachers and snobs
She had a pet python named Tang, his nickname was Sobs.
Always be the real you was her motto, her mantra and her song.
She despised mean people; if they were around, she would not hob-nob.
As a new resident in a rural farming community,
I was shown a picture of a black bear by a new
found friend. Thinking this sighting to be news worthy,
I said, "Have you contacted the news media about this? "
With a respectful gaze, he informed me that bears were
Not uncommon in the area. I thought to myself that I never
'signed up for black bears' when I decided to relocate to Mississippi.
Other wildlife experiences have been: watching a stray cat eat a
wild rabbit. Stopping on a highway for a baby alligator to safely cross.
Being startled by a snake hanging from my back door, and my wife
Being shocked to see another snake wrapped around the door nob
of our front door. Experiencing a black bear greeting me at the window
as I was writing on my computer. Except for the baby alligator, none
of these wild life encounters were pleasant ones.
morning blooms
i wilt in contrast
i will die looking out of the window
i will keep watching for you to come back home
afternoon glows
i fade in contrast
i will die looking out of the window
i will keep listening for you to turn the nob on that door branded with my broken heart
evening glistens
i darken even more in contrast
i will die looking out of the window
i will keep sniffing for even a small hint of your favorite perfume
sleep is a thing of the past like our love
the shirelles sing exactly what and how i feel
i worry none about eviction or homelessness
both begun the instant you said 'goodbye for good'
my hope is a mudpie with a careless footprint in it
the cupboard of my heart is bare
the foundation of my being will forever have a permanent tear
The Knight was knit on a knockout night.
A batch of bare bears within blissful sight.
Right rowed rode on rigorous royal insight.
Whither or wither, writ warned of a worn write.
Douse the drip and dowse to drum up dew.
Alas allowed the altar rite to alter aloud knew.
Wax warmer upon waves of aqua blue.
Caught in the caudle caudal circuit of one or two.
Halting hair like an idol, idle as a hush hare.
Hearsay's hollows handle heinous and flare.
Can a sane person seine in a water glare?
I fear that a note knob rejects the nob affair.
Leaches of joy leech open or open-free.
I will not feign the fane's favor as a feint fee.
Dazes detained the deal to droop a drupe as a flea.
If a blast blows a blue home, it finds a way to flee.
Written: October 09, 2022
Homophone Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Hat Bueckert
Milk
I try to pour myself a glass of milk
The milk thinks the counter is a glass
Notebook
I try to grab my notebook to write this now
The notebook slips down to the ground
Doorway
I try to walk through a doorway
What could go wrong?
My toe stubs the solid wall
Music!
Music can heal anything! Hey, it’s my favorite song!
I’m dancing and singing at the top of my lungs
The best part is coming up
Then right before the big chorus drop
My ears are magically too small
And to my delight, the earbuds fall
Toast!!
What is easier than toast?! Even I could manage that!
The toaster is opened and lo and behold
The bread is black as black
Nutella!!!
“Nutella can fix anything!” I thought
So I run to fetch my gold
I turn the nob then bam!
My head meets the corner, the sharpest corner in fact
Now my vision is blurry and a heart beats in my head
A doctor will be seen for that!
Beautiful San Francisco
In Northern California,
By the Bay,
There it is,
That beautiful city,
It’s the city Tony Bennett
Sings of
“I Left My Heart in San Francisco”
Those lovely trolley cars,
Make it so unique,
Nob Hill, a street we all know,
Fisherman’s Wharf, an interesting
Array of shops,
That famous Golden Gate Bridge,
My Dad told us he sailed by it
On his way to Korea,
During the Korean War,
My whole family got to see
San Francisco,
For my Dad, it was special,
Home to the 49ers football team,
Beautiful San Francisco,
In Northern California,
By the Bay,
There it is,
That Beautiful City,
It’s the city Tony Bennett
Sings of
“I Left My Heart in San Francisco”.
Celine Rose Mariotti
Monday
Quick! Arm the army
Lucifer has gone barmy
Where’s the witch when we need her?
Having a strop, the silly mare
Stoke the anger of battle
This is more than tittle tattle
Rumours be damned
Satan’s got this thing planned
She primed up her flying disc
A big win came with equal risk
With luck her enemy would be drunk
His power, nob and ego may have shrunk
Like the niceness he once had
Before he went all black and bad
Getting the boot from God upon high
So much became nigh!
It was up to the witch now
To turn the Devil into a cow!
With cunning and luck
She’ll hit him like a damn truck
And end this thing
Like a failed bloody fling
But that was impossible
Like a flying pig was possible
Juniper’s Daughter: Fookin' Weech
Nick Armbrister
Fatty Who Became Batty
What we could call Trump is fatty;
His character appears to be catty;
Always meant,
To be hell bent;
Is door nob who did become batty.
Jim Horn
All I hear of Hilton Hotels is terrible,
making mistakes but taking the money,
slanderous to staff now that ain’t funny,
acting all proper job
when a proper nob,
discrimination I can prove
seeing certain staff removed,
we had no HR we could turn to
the manager had no concern for staff like you
setting me up to be disciplined and sacked
somewhat misfired though that plan, fact,
and when I was eventually fired
it was illegally done I’m no liar,
if Hilton Hotels challenge this poem as libel
then I will prove it’s not a lie I will,
they keep managers that manage like monsters
power mad heads become like satanic imposters,
this manager got sacked but still works for them
he's the manager of the York Hilton
they charge too much
care too little
so to Hilton Hotels here’s my middle!!!
A soldier's tale about young Grover,
Though black, his duty called him over,
He survived the Front's futility,
Came home after 1918,
With his medals for bravery,
With valour, he beat the Hun,
Back here, society did him shun,
He came home, no man's slave,
Old comrades did not even wave,
As he marched in the Anzac Parade,
To them, he was an affront,
Though he battled on the Western Front,
He learnt that there was no change,
Their attitudes seemed very strange,
With him, they did not hob nob,
He had no hope of landing a job,
So, he sold his medals for grog from the pub,
Died alone, with his libation of love,
He had fought with such bravery,
But could not survive this bigotry,
Died under a bridge, his short life over,
Sad little tale, a soldier called Grover.
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