looter marauder
a freebooting buccaneer
plundering pirate
pish posh thievery
pillaging provoking
sought by females
Daze and days of penmanship
Potent perhaps a touch of sun
Shipshape warming of outlet ink
Ishmael invites a tale; I say: “stowaway”
Stop all blubbering; just get yammering
Yo ho soupmates, we must steer the ship
Stir golden pot of disbelief and brass tacks
Torrential corkscrew pasta, perhaps?
Pish posh of the alphabet riding the waves
Wending its way, each letter to the crew
Conspirators of sonnets, limericks and dust
Dangerous alliteration, elevation and descent
Decidedly dizain, free verse or blank; thats it?!
.
Br'errrrr
scraaape
scrape
scrape
scraaaaape
scrape scrape
scrape
okay
ber
BAM
BAM
BAM
riiiiiiip
BAM
BAM
riiiiip
BAM
BAM
BAM
ug
flick flick
flick
snap crick spss crack
chrishh tish crack pish crackle
crack crackle shhhh tish
tish
tish
tish
Breakfast iz ready vooman
Our hen dropped an egg – plop!
Orange balloon stuck - pop!
Odd wee bird sang - cuckoo!
Obese farmer screamed - shoo!
Old satin skirt went - swish!
Once ripe grape trampled – squish!
One sound-word this – oh, pish!
Written April 2, 2021
goes out to.....drum roll
returning champion
Scotland
it was close this year
So close virus
so close
but an arms length hug away
awaits for a chance
--------------a hope
--------------another day
_________an unmasked smile
---------------a kiss
---------------awhileing poet's
with a word that i made
With inspiration born from noted malcontent
I composed, dismayed at the reason to vent
In defense of poets, I am inclined to defend
I'll wear a blue dress to commend, not offend
I've been waiting for an auspicious occasion
Putting it on took not a smidge of persuasion
for there is a cause requiring a special dress
a situation with which you may acquiesce
It's been hanging in my closet for over a year
Perhaps a titch too tight and much too sheer
Not the kind of thing I often wear, I confess
Not a fashion statement; my symbolic dress
Garbed in blue silk, my sentiments are divided
for innocence and impishness have dually collided
I'm championing those who were rudely slighted
and call "foul" to the action of being shortsighted
After discovering the facts, I cried, "Oh, my gosh!
What poppycock is this disrespectful pish posh?"
No poet should be subjected to such degrading
It's never kind to disparage in a public upbraiding
I had no plan to wear a garment of blue, and yet
I've zipped it without a smattering of regret
to give a thumbs up to poets who were spurned
by an insulting rebuke that none of them earned
President William H. Taft
Was according to legend so big in the aft
That he got stuck in the splish-splosh,
But that's probably pish-posh.
(Note: Although President Taft did indeed have a super-sized bathtub installed in the White House, historians have found no evidence for the popular story that it was because he had gotten stuck while taking a bath in the original tub.)
---
Written 1/22/2019 for Andrea Dietrich's Leader Clerihew contest.
Such a mystery is a fish
I wonder how a fish can pish
Then there's the matter of sleep at night
Does a fish have eyelids to block out sight?
Don't even ask me how they mate
For I've never seen one on a date
And as for where they hang their hats
Go find a fish who knows where he's at
So, as we consider this thorny puzzle---
Hey, wait a sec! ~ I just saw two fish nuzzle!
My better other half
Who I call Secsee
Today did say to me
If you wish to continue our sexual liaison's
Or want me to have sex with you ever again
The next time you take or need a Pish
Then you better remember to leave the toilet seat down
Or the only thing you will be making love to in the not to distant future
Is those dodge sites you keep wiping from your computer
And just them you will be resigned to history
Do you get me ?
Pish Posh, I was taking a bawth round about half past three
When all of a sudden in my window I spied a man in a tree
He was leering and when
I looked back again
Pish Posh, he was gone, guess he freaked out at the size of my weenie
(Thanks to my new friend, Lin Lane)
© Jack Ellison 2015
My Wish, Pure Pish
Would all that I read
Forever stay in my head
Many heads I’d carry
And, a Gorgon I’d be!
Gen is what remains
If memory loses its gains
So long Grad. Cap I don
I’d be a happy Gorgon!
JM
23rd Oct’ 2013
Lives wasted with foolish dreams,
of love and kindness.
I hold no grudge, nor Envy.
But I say, Pish Posh!
Love in Life is gone
and nothing True comes of it.
For Love is gone... for Love is gone...
I do not mope, so do not judge me.
Do not portray me, as an envious man, who cannot fall... in Love.
For I've travelled through Hell and back.
And I've seen, what I've seen.
Horrific things, and Devilish, and damnation temptation,
that swallows my soul in Godly ridden fire balls.
Once you've seen, what I have seen
you'd feel the same as me.
See me now walk, through the shadows
of wanting relationships and kisses on park benches,
that mock me... and I slowly die.
I want that! I WANT THAT!!!
I shall shout from the rooftops,
of the evening skylines of purplish and orange skies,
Oh, how I desperately want that...
But I hold no grudge, nor am I Envious
of my fellow brother in Love.
I go to him, hold his hand and congradulate him,
on his beautiful Maiden.
... Then I shall turn my cheek,
and walk the path of lone riders.
Starving to be Loved...
perversley an in accordance
wae mad men a tried tae
conterfeit ma future but
successfully a succumed tae
the lies of the past.In ma mair
lucid moments a new they wir
pure pish,if only hindsights eye
wiz mair pronounced cause am
distressed an dismayed it how
easily a wiz played and
persuaded tae believe thit two
an two wir five,disgracefully
and owtrageously a hiv
complied wae the greatist of
lies.
Yeah you are so unique,
Walking down the street oblivious of you conceited stench,
Different you say, irreproducible, pish posh,
You walk with self entitlement,
Loathing the people on the street begging for change,
Cynical of there intentions,
Expecting them to have a vulpine scheme to overthrow your thrown,
But do they not bleed, or cry? Animals you say? Where are there cages?
You would rather them have nothing,
So you can admire yourself with your accomplishments, but what really is accomplished?
Nothing for you are unhappy you and live off the sorrow of others,
Unique you say? I see kinds like you every day.
Love, calumniousness and my calmness.
Caste, colour and religion, castrating me pish.
Pitiable placability, pendiculation and scurrllity,
A scullion leads ashtray, arrogant, juggling kiss.
In funds gainsay gad about, execute fustigation,
Fulsome excelration and Ju Ju, jest misconceived stress.
A gawk but gallant frizzled fuddle and frolic,
Exert pickings pick some picaroon phrenetic bliss.
A cry diverted diversion, a dither distrusted hope,
A burning light touched a grand heart becomes bless.
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