ya'll heard the one
about and and gal
kissing on Christmas day
her Husband comes along
said whats going on
get from neath that misletoe
unhand my wife
darling let call it a night
Mister just let her go
then he balled up his fist said
I'll hit you with this
leave my gal alone
grab your rags
pack your bags
Fella it's time to go
I aint wrong for quick cheeky peck
ya'll been sliding tougunes
and you got your hands all
on her ass
aint airin out my lungs
cause i'm wrong
cause you damn well know
I'm right
take your jacket off
let's go out side
time for us guys to fight
bizzy me
you wiff my Gal
well that aint like I planned
see I'm her Mister
don't get it twisted mister
you egging for ah fyte!
Ingredients:
1. One pinch of sugar (Honey can sub)
2. A dash of what works
3. 1/2 teaspoon of table salt ( Or sea salt )
4. 1 large egg (Egg whites for real)
Instructions:
1. Mix them together until light and fluffy.
2. Flatten the lumps out, soften the sharpness
3. Blend until the texture mellows the taste of reality.
Secret sauce: Seven spices to taste.
Just don’t tell what they really are. EVER.
Never say never, always say "perhaps;" unless it's a
Wedding, a funeral, or your daughter's v-ball game.
Never say never, instead say "maybe."
Never feel forced to use rhyme, tired is the fad despite the ear's need
To smile at the sound of music; rhymes are for the dullard,
Like Dr. Seuss and Mother Hubbard.
Never say never to your kids lest your aim is to model
Human folly & the grace-skill of Forgiveness.
This will all be over soon so please don't cry.
Y'know this whole poem goes way better with chicken stir-fry.
I picked up an old recipe book looking for something appetizing to cook, the recipes were very old and something unusual was moving in my soul. I wanted a taste and resonate beyond the heaven, a taste that was different and one that would appease the global longinging. I have tried British cuisine but it was too cold and it would have rapture my soul. French and Italian was full of compassion; extremely romantic so I place an asterisk beside it but later I will see if that will fit. Chinese cuisine was too hot and Japanese was too flat, Vietnamese and Thai was too hard to comply; too much noodle would ruin my sleep and cause my spirit to weep. Mexican was too spicy and Middle East was too dicey. I still could not make up my mind and I want to bring the universe alive and appease their appetite and so I turn my head toward the sky and watch the cloud slowly transition in the sky.
you barf baster again
washbowl always amplify serious
burden but buttress can
gloriously grandstand crumpled expunging
never negotiate prolonged affliction
center choppy crabbedness extract
stillness for greenback stockholding
that ascribe brandish backsliding
gastrogavage plumping faintness and
your wedding will be
unalterable fluttering caring desirableness
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 24–30, 2026)
DSA’s* goal is unfettered communism
government ownership of the means of production
Always proven to be the ideal recipe`
for a free country’s self-destruction
__________________________________________________________
'DSA' stands for 'Democratic Socialists of America.' The
new Mayor of New York City, Zoran Mamdani, is a
prime example of their ilk.
made from scratch no measurements needed
Pour it slowly
Cannot cup overfill
Combination deliberate
Dissolves into the dough
Takes on new form
Electric eel,
elephant seal -
it's a package deal.
Chicken pox,
shoes and socks,
all placed in one box.
Pie, key lime,
escargot slime,
one recipe - they rhyme.
I thought of a great way to make money.
"Bee, what's your recipe to make honey?"
She said, "You can't raise that sum",
and stung me right on the bum,
and she thought it was awfully funny.
Fond Sunday dinner memories
Roasted in other recipes
I prefer my chicken fried
Each recipe is vintage
Delicious dream comes true
Crisp perfection upon a plate
Hours to prepare
Islands of chefs perfect their chicken
Coated with ranch or lemon
Kitchens record each bite
Every recipe is right
No recipe is wrong
The house is filled with the wonderful smells
of our own treasured ingredients passed down
from generation to generation.
Diminished Hexaverse, brevity food is warm,
powerful, emotional, and comforting,
cooked up in a large Dutch oven with a wooden spoon.
Slow-cooked serving inspiration.
Melt 5-line stanzas, each containing 5 syllables,
and let simmer for two minutes. Creating a good base.
Add 4-line stanzas, each containing 4 syllables.
Whisk together 3-line stanzas, each containing 3 syllables.
Add the rest of the broth in, 2-line stanzas,
each containing 2 syllables.
The finishing touch! 1-line stanzas, each containing 1 syllable.
Cook for 5-8 min. until you're ready to serve!
This recipe never disappoints.
Upon the steamy broth of words we feed,
A spoon of sonnet’s spice, a pinch of rhyme.
Each simmered thought, a poet’s secret seed,
Stirred gently through patient hands of time.
The flavors mix—metaphor, verse, and sound—
In bubbling cauldrons, meaning softly sways.
Within the bowl, lost syllables are found,
And every line a seasoning conveys.
How savory the blend of joy and pain,
When seasoned hearts compose the lyric stew.
From humble roots, a feast of art we gain,
Where every taste and tone is rendered true.
So gather 'round this meal of crafty strains,
Poetry soup forever feeds our brains.
I will share grandma’s recipe, it’s cheesy
Follow my recipe to the letter, it’s easy
I’ve produced this layered dish many times
I love its witty sometimes bawdy rhymes
Please ensure that you enhance this dish
With cheesy humour it'll make it delish
Add grated cheese to the béchamel sauce
This pasta dish will be perfect of course!
Limerick Lasagne is so simple to make
Meat, pasta and sauce then oven bake
Lines 1, 2, and 5 have syllables up to ten
These funny rhymes will flow your pen
Lines 3 and 4 are just a little bit shorter
They should rhyme, if not then they aughta!
Their syllable count is never more than seven
Consistent syllables make limericks heaven!
Each poem needs a huge dollop of wit
When well presented it’ll be a big hit
Pasta layers, meat and au gratin topping
Gives giggles galore, without stopping!
I'm a vegetarian, so I'm not sure why I'm writing insensitive poems like this.
Take a pineapple and a duck.
One you chop and one you pluck.
Say a prayer that they had to die,
and throw them in the wok to fry.
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.