No one missed the cock's wackiness, Still it was a dreaminess, Nothing substituted his craziness, Crowd appreciated Tom's cockiness, Actually he was a bird of laziness,
How did he get the pickiness?,
But he used his canniness, I admired his rockiness,
He removed our sloppiness, His fight was not spottiness, I was attracted by his choppiness, He got victory by his grogginess, Atlast he became logginess, Anyhow his fight gave me floppiness.
Categories:
wackiness, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form: Monorhyme
"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers…"
Every time I hear a kid recite this twisted rhyme,
I'm 'minded how 'gainst Mother Nature it's a crime.
What that peck of peppers was no one can tell,
Perhaps banana, jalapeño, cherry, bell.
But whate'er they were, it's plain, at least to me,
That such a peck as that came off no bush nor tree.
For years this simple nursery flaw
Has scraped, and scoured, and rubbed me raw,
And in my very craw the thing's been sticking.
So to bring the problem up to date,
And to try and set the record straight,
I've checked with Vlasik, Clausen, Kraft,
And all agree the notion's daft
That peppers can be pickled prior to picking.
Author's note: Of course, there could have been a typo in the original manuscript, and Peter actually "packed a peck of pickled peppers", or maybe Peter, himself, was partially "pickled" when he picked 'em.
Entered in Tom Woody's Nursery Rhyme Wackiness Poetry Contest on July 16, 2024.
Categories:
wackiness, humor,
Form: Light Verse
An amazing revelation that has long since become
The universe contains neutrons, electrons, and morons
The last one is quite obvious
Just check out the wackiness
Of the loonies at the mall with their thumbs up their bums
Categories:
wackiness, hilarious,
Form: Limerick
People buying something new
Can’t wait to use or try it,
Starting with the minute their
Decision was to buy it.
If it’s clothes or jewelry,
They’ll wear it right away,
Just to reaffirm it’s worth
The price they had to pay.
I’m a little different, though,
My wackiness unmatched;
My purchases remain unworn,
Their price tags still attached.
They languish in their shopping bags,
Most likely quite confused –
Selected from the store, brought home,
But waiting to be used.
I can’t explain the reason why
I have the need to wait;
At times, I almost reach the point
When things are out of date.
But soon enough I’m ready –
It’s a feeling in my gut;
I’ll slip the item from its bag
And price tags will be cut.
You like my pocketbook? Me, too.
It’s nice you let me know.
It’s brand-new, even though I bought it
Fourteen months ago!
Categories:
wackiness, me,
Form: Rhyme