Gwen does not feel the least guilty about an affair with Glen.
He is married, but they have not been in love for years.
His wife, Florence, is a cold fish, demanding and unlovable.
Their three children are the only reasons they still live in the same house.
He is getting a divorce as soon as possible.
She tells none of this to her parents, knowing they will not approve.
They are old fogies, how could they ever understand true love?
Glen is in his heyday – he has a loving wife at home
And an adoring fawning co-worker who will please him in every way.
He has experienced every sexual fantasy in the last three months.
He tells her he will leave his wife, which is one of his super whoppers.
His wife and he have never had a better love life.
He brings what he learns from the office home to Florence.
Florence wonders what has gotten into her husband, Glen.
He is more sensual than he has been in seven years of marriage.
She arranges for a babysitter and packs a picnic lunch for the two of them.
She is wearing lacy lingerie but nothing else underneath her trench coat.
She cannot wait to surprise him so they can have a quickie in his office.
Trump, the man
The mass media in Europe is as bad
as any mass media all over the world
also lazy and copy one another
and have in common a dislike of Trump
Sometimes, they take their cue
from the once-famous Guardian who
has a pathological hatred of Trump
snobbishly points out his liking for ties
the color and the lengths of this
menswear
They rage against his lies, which turn out
he spoke the truth when his enemies
told whoppers of the great magnitude
The fact that there was no war at his
the first presidency is overlooked or ignored
Those papers and their commentators
do not understand humor, and when he
was shot at and bloodied got up waved his
fist in defiance, no one had the grace
to call him courageous
His first act as president again will be
to stop the Ukraine war, expel illegal
and send them packing next will be
the Gaza problem, which he doesn't
talk about, but there will be a solution
Palestinians can live with and Have to
accept, thus the threat of a nuclear
will be over
If I could, I would vote for Trump he is
the dike that can stop the income tide
of an all-out war
An ant
never says
“I can’t”
Grasshoppers
dream up
whoppers
School is starting in one hundred and ninety-two heat.
Surely you jest! Said a staid guy name of Absolute Pete.
It’s hotter than a sauna, so you be the judge, okay?
This was said by an exaggerator whose name was May.
Put them together, and their story might make some sense.
This was said by a few gossips across the clothesline fence.
One tells such whoppers, and the other can barely embellish a bit.
Of course, they married and had children, named one Nit-Wit.
Grandpa told some more tall stories today.
He thinks his memories are true
but we all know he was always a self-made liar,
kidding all and sundry seven ways to Monday,
faking the figures for the giddy and gullible,
plagiarizing other peoples
experiences and making up whoppers.
Some think his rambling tales just adorable,
others hope he would not speak at all
for gobbledygook is his halting style.
When we check on his fibs
and question him
he just stares at us
blank-eyed like a fresh caught fish.
We have had to put him in a big white house
for his own safety
trouble is
no one else is safe now.
Long poems, short poems
Wide poems, narrow
High poems, low poems
Romance, Cupid's arrow
Old poems, new poems
Red poems, blue poems
Luddite poems, uptight poems
Bawdy poems - screw 'em
Flower poems, color poems
Nature poems galore
Tall tales and whoppers
Who knows what's in store
Rhyme & Meter, Foot & Beat
Metaphor or Simile
Triolets and Woe is Me
Dot the i's, cross the t's
Stirring Odes and Tributes
Limericks, Epitaphs
If not too darn serious
Some will make you laugh
Futuristic? The past's terrific
Everything is unspecific
You see
~ Just call it Poetry
'Tis well-documented that George Washington had issues with his choppers.
'Tis also well-known that he was not prone to fabricating whoppers.
So it comes as no surprise and can be truly said of our first President,
That truer words were never spoken thru falser teeth by this honorable gent!
On Lying
By: Miracle Man
3/18/2020
I've a statement to make which I'll keep brief,
two things i detest, are liar and thief.
Sometimes the two become wrapped into one,
and this is the person i try to shun.
Some when caught lying just stare into space,
rather than see, the disgust on my face.
I've heard whoppers, that left me near crying,
until they said, "if lying I'm dying."
Give me a couple hamburgers and a Coke.
Would you like any fries with that?
I've lost touch with my college roommate.
You can always find him on Facebook.
It's so hard to teach yourself to play the guitar.
There's an app for that, you know.
Whatever happened to Michael Dukakis?
You can always find him on Facebook.
I need a cheeseburger and a chocolate shake.
Would you like any fries with that?
I'm so bogged down with wedding planning.
There's an app for that, you know.
Can I get a couple Whoppers and a large Coke?
Would you like any fries with that?
There was this guy on the Boston Celtics last year.
You can always find him on Facebook.
I can't get my kids to eat their vegetables.
There's an app for that, you know.
Whatever happened to Pee Wee Herman?
Would you like any fries with that?
I'd like a fish sandwich and a diet-Coke.
There's an app for that, you know.
How do I prepare a simple meal for 100 guests?
You can always find them on Facebook...
The rocky road of childhood lingers on
And still I hear the echoes of those nerds.
A galaxy away and yet so near,
I was the dove and they the preying birds.
Hey, 'chunky', ' lemonhead' they'd shout at me
And snickers would resound throughout the yard,
'Three Musketeers', 'The Smarties' they were called
They knew the skor, their taunts would leave me scarred.
The lies they told, the whoppers, made me cry
Take 5 one said as fist beat on my chest
At zero was my self-esteem back then
Their spree of ridicule was not suppressed.
Oh Henry!, now the years have rolled on by
Yet bitter, recollections still endure,
The starburst of your youth too soon was quenched
Pay day will come for them, you can be sure.
27/09/18
'How sweet it is' poetry contest : Sponsored by: Carol Connell
Finally it was PAY DAY,
and I felt like a 100 GRAND.
Even though you don't make MOUNDS of money,
selling HOT TAMALES from a stand.
I headed to the JOLLY RANCHER,
over on 5TH AVENUE and DOVE.
To grab some beers with MIKE AND IKE,
a couple of GOOBERS, whose company I love.
We may not be a bunch of SMARTIES,
but AIRHEADS we are not.
We know all about sports and WHATCHAMACALLIT,
just ask HEATH the bartender, he quizzes us a lot.
The THREE MUSKETEERS is what they call us,
we are the best of friends, BAR NONE.
The stories we tell are WHOPPERS,
they may hold ZERO truth, but still a lot of fun.
9/24/2018
O' HENRY'S my name and me and my dog CHUNKY, the SLO POKE dog, wanted to go on a shopping spree on 5th AVENUE since it was PAYDAY. It was a nice ride and the scenery was beautiful, especially the SNOW CAPS in the distance.
However, our trip was cut short when we broke the WHATCHAMACALLIT on the car when we hit a patch of ROCKY ROAD. BAR NONE, that was the worst road I have ever driven.
We were broke down on a remote country road and we could see ZERO help in any direction. I was worried that we were stranded but just then a JOLLY RANCHER with his two NERD sons, MIKE and IKE, pulled up and asked if they could help.
I explained our dilemma and I heard Mike and Ike SNICKER and say we were AIR HEADS with BUTTERFINGERS. They towed us to a garage and the repair estimate was 100 GRAND, after all we were driving a Lamborghini. The mechanic fixed the car and I promised I would pay NOW AND LATER.
That didn't go over so well and the sheriff has me serving HOT TAMALES and BOSTON BAKED BEANS in the county jail. The moral of this story is don't be a SMARTIE and tell a bunch of WHOPPERS.
How sweet it is poetry contest
Sponsored by: Carol Connell
We no longer immolate babes on Moloch’s hideous altar.
May Heaven be thanked.
We no longer burn heretics at the stake.
May Heaven be praised
We no longer stone men and women for committing adultery.
Thank Heavens for that!
We no longer subject defendants to trial by ordeal.
We no longer engage in witch hunts.
We no longer hang men for stealing sheep
We no longer make children work in coal mines.
We no longer keep slaves.
For all these things may the Heavens be thanked.
Thus many forms of cruelty and oppression have been abolished, and yet
Today’s evils, the real whoppers, are hermetically concealed behind white walls and bland, sincere faces.
To what strange deity, utility, necessity, security are we prepared to immolate not only ourselves, noble suicides, but our children, our babes, our future.
Whom would we then have to thank?
Clem Kadidlehopper had two whoppers,
Two burgers with the works may be stoppers,
Double meat, egg, beetroot, tomato and cheese,
For a burger connoisseur this could only please,
No problem for Clem and his great big choppers.
alternate last line: Clem woofed them down with his great big choppers.
I thought lets go fishing
fancying a fish pie
or maybe fish and chips
that would do the trick
I set off, rod and bucket
full of worms in my hands
found a good spot to fish
by the rocks on the beach
Patiently I waited for a bite
then my rod dipped and bucked
soon I had four nice whoppers
flapping around in my bucket
Needing to answer call of nature
I slipped in between the trees
alas when I returned I found
one happy pelican looking full
An empty bucket he'd scoffed the lot
I sighed as I chucked a stone
it missed him by a country mile
no fish for supper I had no more worms
written 06/17/2013
contest Gone Fishing
sponsor Caleb Smith
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