Short Nagged Poems

Her mind was closed, she quickly bragged.
Opinionated she always nagged.
Misinformed by one channel of un-real-news.
With no social security she now sings the blues....

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Here lies Larry Belt, once loved by all
Writing poetry before he could crawl
It happened just like he said
And now he is lying dead
Nagged to death by his mother-in-law...

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Lennie was a Hen-pecked pastry baker
Who told His wife He might forsake Her.
She nagged and was grossly obese.
He wanted it to quickly cease.
Whereupon He frosted Her Half-acre....

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The weeds in his yard were sky high
"Just PULL them!" nagged his wife, said he'd try
But the thought brought him sorrow
Said, "I'll do it tomorrow!"
As he sat, eating junk food and fries. 






Written on 6/19/2015...

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mother of two boys
nagged at dad clowning by pool
one dive too many ~
forgive my raised jaded brow
'nag' now aids paraplegic



AP: Honorable Mention 2021

Submitted for contest ONE OR TWO TANKA sponsored by RICK PARISE - December 17, 2017...

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The Philistines wanted the source of Samson's power
Delilah tried,nagged and then to her love,lied
In weakness,this Judge was soon to cower-
Samson' strength was never self-reliant,
The Spirit of the Lord had made him a giant

See more at Judges 15 & 16...

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She nagged, in monologue,
Her wicked tongue aflame!
But I cared not – 
My homemade wine 
Packed a bigger punch!


-----------------------------
Paul Callus 19th Dec 2015
Contest: Something with great Impact
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
[19 words]
Placed 2nd...

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I reflect on our childhood days,
Not such pure and perfect ways,
Mother nagged us for so long,
Her negative carp was very strong,
When we kids reached our teens,
That's when she got really mean,
Endearing not, was the scene,
Past of our family magazine,
Now we look back and laugh,
Turn the page on mother's chaff!...

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They nagged him till he'd had enough.
His one remaining joy was snuff.
Beyond the post that ends his race
he has found a better place.
This is no time to joke or laugh
but to write his epitaph.
Art is long but life is short.
I lack the time to more report.
Short and snappy were his days,
short therefore to him my praise....

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Listen to poem:

I drew stick figures
things were simple

in a pencil world
mistakes were erased
you could start over

but an inchmeal awareness nagged
- the sky isn’t gray, it’s a liquid blue

but crayons were complicated
you couldn’t erase things
mistakes were irrevocable.

and there were 148 colors in the big box
keeping them in rainbow order was work.

growing up is hard

.
.
*Webster: Inchmeal: gradual, or little by little*...

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