Once, when I got bored,
I spied the Golden Horde,
or, was it just some ants
crawling up my pants?
pink pajama pants
large and floppy but comfy
my favorite thing
Big Boy Pants On
I don’t want to hear it.
You're in denial.
You're on your own.
Put your big boy pants on.
No complaining.
No whining.
These are the choices you make.
Don’t ask me for money.
You lowered the bar.
You can only go up from here.
No more excuses.
Don’t pretend.
I’m not a crutch.
Good luck.
I can’t wipe your ass forever.
Lazy generation by far.
I announce a decree,
overactive bladder, pee frequently.
I must haste to and fro,
because I just really have to go.
Gangway, vacate the loo,
or I'm going to splash all over you!
I wear industrial size diapers that
are pricey,
I'm a human waterfall, how dicey.
Aging isn't easy,
I know this poem is cheesy,
but I still can do a little dance,
as I've nicknamed myself, "Pissy-Pants!"
Ever wonder why we giggle
How does it actually start
What makes it uncontrollable
Perhaps it's a silly old fart
Giggles are quite intangible
You can't buy 'em at the store
Worth buckets full of greenbacks
Some gold and so much more
You're in a state of euphoria
You try to stay calm but can't
It's a tonic for whatever ails you
When ants get in your pants
Ever wonder why we giggle
How exactly does it start
They say it's very good for the soul
And does wonders for your heart
‘smarty-pants’
too big for his britches
kept his audience
in virtual stitches
on the road from rags to riches
ran into some unforeseen glitches
courtesy of parents' old-fashioned switches
'smarty-pants’ derriere throbs and twitches
How like Eliot it is in tone.
Even the landscape has the grime
of London in each line. I must have been
no more than nineteen when I wrote
the poem caught in the spell of his hypnotic
rhythm and rhymes.
The bright, clean air of my home
was seen through the filter
of a foreign fog, his soulful exhaustion
washed a gray tide across my youth.
He stood as a monument in whose shadow
nothing could grow.
Prufrock haunted the back alleys
of my mind, a rebel almost in the guise
of a comic. He was hardly me
in a world of pub rock and cold beers
on lazy, sun drenched Aussie afternoons -
no rolled up trousers but instead,
reefers, flared pants and mini skirts
and a future balanced on the whim
of a conscription ballot
hanging over my head.
The red pills are out again
all hot and bothered on menopause
Angry Birds
spewing angry words
we need a poo poet to respond
to these silly turds
Now Kamala I am sure has lied
a time or two
she's a politician, who cares red or blue
now Trump
who can not read or write
as lied to you thousands of times
I just lied
Is billions
I lied again
Is trillions
Angry Birds hate
like bats in a cave
their world is all upside down
no one told them
they are the clowns
There views are formed
by a little tube in front of them
they have no empathy
nor humanity
They are couch terrorists
frauds for sure
excited by burning flesh
soon behind them
The lion will roar
Kamala said she has only worked for the American masses
She did work for Speaker Willie Brown as his mistress
Even her husband loved his mistress
So much he had her abort their fetus
She doesn’t support parent's rights
She doesn’t support the police
She doesn’t support the State of Israel
She doesn’t support the borders of America
She does support the hammer and sickle!
My strung-out limbs grow like plants
Head in the clouds, toes with the ants
Branches sprout, leaves strewn about,
Now I’m walkin’ ‘round with an utter lack of pants
My eyes swirl like big lollipops
Cogs and wheels, they just won’t stop
Sugar melts, candy belts
Now I’m full of air like a cold can of pop
My propeller spins on my funny hat
I float away, to never come back
Heavy body, I fall out of the sky
Now I’m on the ground and I just want to cry
My skinned knees bleed through my jeans
Drawing eyes, I only displease
I stumble not walk, I struggle to talk
Now I’m nothing more than a can of dead fleas
Feeling a bit extra strange today
Really can't imagine the reason
Tightie whities maybe a little too tight
Think maybe I'm overeating
3X most likely is my new size now
Please keep this our little secret
Sadly my diet plan has been a failure
Was trying hard to be my sleekest
I do possess other redeeming factors
I can stand on my head and spit nickels
Not impressed? Then how about this
Can whistle a tune through my nipples
It all comes back to my tightie whities
The sooner I change 'em the better
Think I'll convert to airy clown pants
With polka dots, numbers and letters
Say hello when the circus comes to town
Can't miss me that's for damn sure
With the big red nose I'll be wearing
Looking so very mature!
They are my lucky pants, they come with me wherever
They are my lucky pants, we will always be together
They are navy blue nylon, not cotton or leather
They are all purpose jogging pants for any kind of weather
They are pants that are worn for all of the seasons
I travel with my lucky pants for many different reasons
They are not too hot and not too cold, my traveling pants will never get old.
We been to New Orleans, Texas and even Alabama
We traveled to Maryland, Atlanta, Memphis and D.C
They went to Colorado, Florida and Vegas with me
We went to New York, London and then back to the states
We travel by car, bus or plane, whatever it takes
Whether worn or not, they’re coming for the flight
Wear them for my wedding um, I don’t know, I just might
They are my lucky pants, I will have them like forever
They are my lucky pants, get rid of them? Never!
Fancy Pants Cat wore a scalloped brocade suit
When he walked, his tail gave out a magic toot
The rest of us were amazed by his blue top hat
He was a very endearing flatulenct friendly happy cat.
No fancy pants is I
Nor do l try
No airs and graces
No two faces
No academic nor scholar
No white collar
Simply just me
Writing heart poetry
I will wear white pants all year long
with shoes scuffed from a sandy night;
Discolored waves that won't come out
those seaside moments haunt my eyes;
Capture the season keep it strong
hold those scandalous fashions tight;
Laid back vibe lingers all about,
when you're free it seems time flies;
Land of a thousand summers song,
one note I'm back in paradise.
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