Stumpy Poems | Examples

Tradin’ Coon Hounds

Heard my dad mutter, a hundred greenbacks,
you trying to give me a heart attack.

For that much money, truth be told,
that dog of yours had better crap gold.

Then dad hemmed and hawed,
grumbled and guffawed,

Wiped his lips and said with a smile,
“Just let me chew on it for a while.”

Pretty soon dad stood and said, 
how about I trade you Stumpy instead.

Sonny grinned but said, don’t quite seem fair,
but if’n you throw in Sue, that’d make a good pair.

Then they hiked up their pants leg to sit.
leaned forward over the ash can and spit,

They took another drink of white port wine,
after a while dad said,”Reckon that’ll be fine.”

With a handshake the deal was done,
each one sure they just got the best one.

Then they threw away the bottle’s plug,
and sat there til they finished off that jug

She Sat On The Back Of A Turtle

Note: Tortoises are  land-dwelling while turtles are aquatic 

She sat on the back of a turtle 
then said 
 " Go Go Go !" 
While he 
on stumpy feet 
       trumbled
and humphed 
"you are mighty hefty !" 
he configured. 
She guided him to the water 
then said 
"Go Go Go" 
I know 
you want to 
what is stopping you?
 
"You've mistaken me 
for a tortoise little girl ! "
She turns around and 
leads him to land,  
and together they sit 
in the sand...

Jealous of Susie S

When I was nine the Little Remco Red Spinning Wheel was out.
Every Saturday morning it was shown to be the best toy since Barbie.
My mother secretly ordered it for Christmas; my heart gave a shout.
I told every friend I was getting it – Lois, Patty, Stumpy, and Arbie.

Christmas, and there was no Little Remco Red Spinning Wheel for me.
Every girl child in America except my identical twin wanted it you see.
I was devastated, annoyed, upset, disappointed, and instantly sad.
Only one who did not notice was probably my Christmas-loving Dad.

No teacher was politically correct then, Mrs.Tot was certainly not.
We kids took turns standing beside our desk, telling everything we got.
Susie S. listed about sixty thousand things that day and then said.
The stupidest gift I got was a little Remco spinning wheel, Red.

My ears flushed, my face hot, I was jealous as I had ever been.
I knew not to even glance at Magill, my all-knowing identical twin.
My heart knew jealousy that day like I have never known again.
Thinking about Susie S. to this day makes my heart give an angry spin.

High Noon Stumpy

There was an old cowboy named Stumpy 
Who's laugh sounded just like a donkey
He smelled like a skunk
High noon he'd get drunk
And then with the ladies got frisky

Her Old Bangers

Outside a butcher shop in London Town
I met an old girlfriend and she made me frown
‘I remember boyfriends,’ she liked to acknowledge
‘By naming them all after all kinds of sausage.’

The first time she made a man out of a boy
Was a lad who she now calls young Savaloy Roy
Her next feller’s member was beyond belief
She now refers to him as Pork and Beef Keith
She told me her next bloke she called B.P. Lee
B.P. is black pudding… interestingly
So I asked if she had a nickname for me
‘You betcha,’ she said, your name is Chippy.’
I said, ‘Is that down to me being a carpenter?’
She said, ‘Don’t be daft, it’s short for chipolata.’

                                       *



[in the UK a savaloy is a red skinned sausage, about 8 inches by 1.25 inches, usually accompanied by chips (thick French fries); Black Pudding is a whopping great thing that, on a man, would be inhuman; pork and beef are usually stumpy but with a good girth, and chipolatas are slender, scrawny efforts that only become interesting if you wrap them in bacon at christmas]

Cenotaph - For Stumpy

In loving remembrance 
Of all the beautiful trees
Sacrificed in the pursuit
Of my literary ambitions.

Nicknames

Nicknames
          by Bob Moore 2019

I wonder when the nickname,
became a part of who we are
and that nickname, will stay with you
though you travel near and far

So Robert, we will call him Bob                                                                                
and William we’ll call Bill
and John is just called Jack
and Phillip is called Phil

there’s Nobby Clarke, and Chalky White
and Dusty Miller too 
and if you only have one leg, 
then Stumpy is the name for you

I remember back in England
I had a good friend then
his name was Norman Dover
but we all just called him Ben

Caterpillar

The yellow and black caterpillar
concertina’s around my wrist.
Around and around my wrist it trundles
on those stumpy limb nubbins
neither veering left or right.

It’s a creature unaware of distance
and so must constantly search
for nearness.
Wherever its fuzzy head leads
that is its world, only the nearby
is myopically absorbed.

I pluck it up from its lonely trek,
place it onto a mulberry bush,
The slinky pauses,
then commences to chomp
through a dark green leaf –

another world to ingest
yet more nearness to convert
into yellow and black grubbiness.

One day, distance will call to its
tunnel vision,
it will burst apart,
as if it were a dark star
rent asunder.
The far flung will open
under a dizziness of wings -

both greeting and farewell
merging into one topsy-turvy
last flutter of glory.

Contact

I could be strolling on a river bank,
or sitting in a managed park.
I could be walking on a saltbush plain,
or where soil is parched and stark.
I could be climbing Perry sand hills;
be shaded by a Wilga tree. 
I will never be there on my own - 
we’re still in contact; you and me.

I could be gazing at a rainbow arc,
or clouds billowing to rain.
I could witness lightning and thunder;
stroll on a sun drenched plain.
I could see a stumpy tail upon the tar;
a mob of grazing kangaroo.
I will never be there on my own - 
we’re still in contact; you and me.

I will never be there on my own - 
we’re still in contact; you and me.
We talk about adventure that we had -
it seems I’m talking to nobody.

Dobermans' Can Write - Can'T Talk

"What we've got here is a very serious language barrier, not mine!
Let me introduce myself, I'm Tricky, a Doberman Pinscher and a thoroughbred.
My Dad Mick, clever, thinks he can talk to his pets, whatever!
He has two, yes, me and a cat called, grruf, T. C.!
Oops, he is coming, he mustn't know I write and talk too."
"Tricky, good boy, were off walkies", "Dangling my lead in my face.
A few happy barks, bark, bark. plus I wag my stumpy tail,
were on our way, so happy, I was hoping to the park,
the only place Mick lets me off my short lead, great fun.
I try to indicate my desire but no, the river, head down.
Saw a duck, made a lunge in the river plunged, cool water!
Could not believe my luck, no, didn't get the duck, Mick flew"!

Put Yourself In the Doberman Pinscher's Paws Poetry Contest, Sponsored by Edward Ibeh

07/18/18
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Link A  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cB9pVJ3mYcE

Memorial Day Is Here Again

Memorial Day Is Here Again

I saw a wounded soldier’s baby
Smooth his stumpy leg, and
I know he cried tears inside his heart,
For his babe, but as babes will do,
She smiled acceptingly and hugged him round his neck,
She will always love him faithfully,
And be his healing nurse.

We’ll study war no more, Isaiah wrote,
But lurking fear we cannot describe,
Doesn’t save us from  “You kill me, I’ll kill you,”
And think we’re justified.

Memorial Day is here again and
We’ll crush that fear inside,
Long enough to honor the courageous,
Men and women who hurt and die,
Who stand up for us every day
With even more anxiety than we,
But who act for us by noble proxy,
Suffering for mankind’s deeds,
And Freedom!

Gnawing Resentment

He gnawed on his resentment
In public and alone
Like a dog he kept on worrying
The marrow from the bone
Till he gave himself an ulcer
Till his teeth got small and stumpy
Till other dogs said, Hang on, Fang
You’re starting to look grumpy
He wouldn’t leave the thing alone
Just wouldn’t let it lie
Time to put the bone down, Fido
Go on, try

by Gail

Dachshund

Some folks call me a sausage dog
I think they couldn’t be meaner
It’s not my fault I’m long and short
And look like a misshapen wiener

I’ve got four stumpy little legs
So my tummy is near to the ground 
My owner’s take me for a drag not a walk
Guess that's why they named me Cigarette!


01~16~15
Contest: Dachshunds – Rob Carmack
~awarded 9th place~
Premiere Contest #13 sponsored by SKAT

Memoirs of An Old Man, the Laughing Version

‘I rant until i tattle.’
An old man said to me.
With boulders brass in battle
For Country, Queen and sea.

Lest not aghast a fattie,
Good heavens or abode.
We cannot simper- EVER!
For mighty frog or toad.

My clumbus, brood and brattice
Have left and faded dim,
Yet i shall stay with Stumpy
For clopper, clop and Jim.

Discounting Morris Upskate,
A ginger by default.
He keeps us musing nicely
For peace and calm revolt.

Take up thy stripy cornflake
And all who sail within,
And use the little peabus
For losing, draw or win.

And with a hanson blackie,
We clubber what we sow,
Go barphing like a windmill,
For friends we do not know.

Spring Rose

the purple leaves
unroll their sleeves
to frosty days
and longing rays

the thorny twigs
and stumpy-pruned sticks
secretly hides deep inside
the summer’s petalled pride

but sap will rise
to cloudy skies
to meet and catch
the swollen rays

with skirt of thatch
a blouse displays
a hidden promise 
of perfumed sprays

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