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Best Poems Written by Alan Balter

Below are the all-time best Alan Balter poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Alan Balter Poem

Harvey the Hippo

Harvey the Hippo

Harvey is a huge hippopotamus
Who bathes in a bay that is bottomless
HIs mouth is as large as a riverboat barge
And he weighs ten times more than a lot of us

Big Harvey isn’t nasty or troublesome
Nor like other guys who are double dumb
He just wanders around stomping the ground
Looking for pieces of bubble gum

Harvey owns a fine yellow cummerbund
And sewn on the back is the number one
He wears it right proudly and bellows quite loudly
While playing outside in the summer sun

Once Harvey met up with a crocodile
Together they decided to walk a mile
Near the shore they strolled, but the water got cold
So they sat down to talk on the dock a while

Eating Oreo cookies about four apiece
They talked about matters of war and peace
They discussed the economy, art, and astronomy
And the huge immigration of foreign geese

Then walking back toward his new shiny house
Harvey stopped for a chat with a tiny mouse
Her name was Du Barry; they decided to marry
And soon come a baby named Stanislaus

A handsome young child was Stanislaus
Dressed up in his fine silken Spanish blouse
They all had made history; this was no mystery
For Stan was the first Hippopotamouse

Huge Harvey adored his sweet ladylove
From her wee little feet to her head above
He brought her some strings and other fine things
Including a snowy white turtledove

Harvey has grown really mellow now
He seldom produces a bellow now
But if you’re down by the bay, you can still see him play
This wondrous and gentle old fellow now

Details | Alan Balter Poem

Fun With Puns

Fun With Puns*


A shepherd and his sheep once took
A shortcut across a frozen brook
The owner charged a very high price
For pulling the wool over his ice

I didn't know if I were a wigwam or tepee
So I was really depressed and sort of weepy
Then a psychiatrist with very good sense
Explained I was just a couple of tents

Benny was rescued from a terrible place
And lived out his life in a silver vase
Thus he was a guy who finally learned
That a Benny saved is a Benny urned

A man bought an expensive new car
And stopped for some drinks at a local bar
Soon after he picked up some of his friends
Who quickly learned how a Mercedes Benz

Snow White felt weak and unsteady
When her photographs weren’t ready
She chewed on some gum and felt less glum
Certain someday soon her prints would come

Palm fronds are very relaxative
Swallow them; they’re a very good laxative
They won’t hurt you;  they’re not venomous
So, with fronds like those, who needs enemas

It would be nice to have four more puns
Because a total of ten would be fun
Maybe one of them upon humor depended
Or it's very possible that no pun in ten did


*Of course, I would have given credit to the authors of these puns, but they are unknown.

Details | Alan Balter Poem

Bones

Bones


We have 206 bones in our skeletal system
Far too many to completely list ‘em
But here are a few for your edification
In case you missed ‘em in your education

Tibia, fibia, femur, and sternum
Are four of the larger if you’d care to learn ‘em
But malleus, incus and stapes I fear
Are the smallest you have, so they fit in your ear

You have a funny bone called the “humerous”
You’ve only got two, so they aren’t very numerous
Your ribs, on the contrary number twenty-four
Adam gave one away, still he had plenty more

Enclosing your brain is the hardest bone you’ve got
Known as the “Cranium” more often than not
And “Mandible” is the medical name for “Jaw”
You rely on it mostly when it’s time to gnaw

Your phalanges are your fingers and toes
Both may be places where a ring goes
And down around your knees are your patellas
You scraped them a lot when you were young fellas

Your vertebrae make up your spine; you’ve got ‘em
Cervical, thoracic, and lumbar near your bottom
They’re separated by small discs in between
But should one slip, the pain can be mean

Of course, there are others that are well-known
Like the radius, ulna, and coccyx bone
Sit them all down in a comfortable seat
And at a fancy restaurant, say “Bone Appetit!”

Details | Alan Balter Poem

Public Speaking

Public Speaking


Public speaking made me nervous when I was in school
Getting up in front of class, I always lost my cool
I memorized my speeches and really knew them well
But between my brain and lips, things just didn’t jell

Here are a few examples with embarrassing details
“Saving whales,” I meant to say instead of “waving sails”
And when one wants to talk about “battle ships and cruisers”
His audience will likely laugh at “cattle ships and bruisers”

It shouldn’t be as hard as jumping a high hurdle
To say “hypodermic needle” not “hypodemic nurdle”
And certainly one understands that a “well-oiled bicycle”
Will last a whole lot longer than a “well-boiled icicle”

During school it seemed likely I’d been “wasting two terms”
Still, a whole lot better that “tasting two worms”
So compared to public speaking, writing is the “fun part”
More dignified that expounding on the latest “pun fart”

Details | Alan Balter Poem

Death Penalty

Death Penalty


Sonny Johnson’s home was on the street
   Sharing space with rats who nibbled at his feet
Until he moved his blanket to the county jail
   ‘Cause someone said he stabbed a white female

He faced the court without a scrap of money
   So no lawyer of renown defended Sonny
A jury found him guilty in two hours
   And no one wondered if the fault was his or ours
 
No delays or stays of execution
   How sweet they are, revenge and retribution
A pork chop and beans sat cooling in a bowl
   While a portly priest sanctified Sonny’s soul

They strapped him to a gurney hard and fast
   Two witnesses looked away, eyes downcast
Beads of sweat on Sonny’s forehead glistened
   “Ain’t done the deed; how come y’all don’t listen?”

Sonny shuddered once before his heart stopped beating
   Nary a soul mourned his tragic life so fleeting
With other poor men, they put him in the ground
  And no stone marker graced his burial mound

Sonny’s fate isn’t hard to justify
   The Holy Book supports an eye for an eye
Does anyone care how many men are taken
   With the chilling chance that we may be mistaken?

Details | Alan Balter Poem

Bottems Up

Bottoms Up[


I was looking around for a new winter sport
Something rigorous but not a dangerous sort
A good friend of mine suggested to me
“if you can walk, you can cross country ski”

So I shopped around at a sporting goods store
It was a nice discount I was looking for
Soon I found a pair that didn’t cost a lot
And I got a lesson right on the spot

The very next day; don’t you know?
The ground was covered with eight inches of snow
So I packed my skis into the van
 And headed to the golf course, a sensible plan

Others like me had the same thing in mind
So I strapped on my skies and waited in line
The weather was great and the conditions superior
But in no time at all, I was on my posterior

I dusted myself off and started to glide
Just as two experts jostled me on my side
I lost concentration and didn’t see a bump
There I was again, flat on my rump

Never discouraged, I stood tall once more
Starting to feel the perspiration pour
But just as I felt I was starting to get it
Back on my derriere; should I forget it?

Never!  I said to myself with resolve
This is a puzzle I can solve
Just then I steered right into a bush
And landed sans dignity right on my tush

Two ladies came over to help me up
I was whining now like an orphaned pup
“I’m sorry ladies to be so troublesome
But would you mind rubbing my aching bum?”

They left in a hurry as you might think
Actually quicker than a wink
I made it home with a sore keister
Hoping I’ll feel better come next Easter

Next day I saw my good friend at work
And squelched the urge to call him a jerk
And while removing our lunches from the office fridge
I explained my plans to take up Bridge

Details | Alan Balter Poem

Stereotypes

Stereotypes


Black people all have rhythm and are good at basketball
   Not a single blond in the world has any brains at all
Englishmen have bad teeth and Mexicans are lazy
   And if you think the Dutch aren’t cheap, certainly you’re crazy

All Chinese are bad drivers, and hairdressers are gay
   Consensus is that Irishmen get plastered every day
Construction workers are all fat from eating too much dinner
   Korean people eat doggy meat trying to get thinner

All athletes have large muscles in between their ears
   Italians run the Mafia; at least it so appears
Jews don’t pay retail and they all have giant noses
   All teenagers are rebels, everyone supposes

All the French are rude, and Poles aren’t very bright
   And Hawaiians hit their surfboards long into the night
Asians all have high IQ’s, and Germans are efficient
   Nowhere is there a doctor whose judgment is deficient

All Arabs support terror, and Latins make great lovers
   All Navahos snort firewater underneath their covers
Every single homeless person’s on welfare ‘cause he’s needy
   And try to find a politician who isn’t mean and greedy

All people who are fat have a tendency to be jolly
   And women are bad drivers; you can count on it by golly
Lawyers are out to cheat you, as a rule of thumb
   But most of all, don’t you think that stereotypes are dumb

Details | Alan Balter Poem

Hair Everywhere

Hair Everywhere

Hair Everywhere

Every part of my body looks rather shoddy because it’s covered with hair
   There isn’t a place, even my face, that has managed to remain bare
Time goes by, and I don’t know why, but it just keeps on growing
   Like drifts of snow when it’s five below and winter winds are blowing

Covering my back there is no lack of curly long black stuff
   And on my shoulders as I get older there’s way more than enough
It grows on my toes and everyone knows it blankets my forearms too
   Sometimes I yearn for a mild sunburn, but none of the rays get through

Could it be a bad omen that my abdomen has a layer of dense dark locks
   I look like a brute in a bathing suit; I’d rather hide in a box
There’s a wooly bush all over my tush and fuzz growing out of my ears
   And to my mustache, I say “Balderdash;” Got any pruning shears?

One thing for sure; it’s hard to endure; in fact; it’s really a bother
   I’m not certain of where I got all this hair; it might have been my father
It’s clearly true that he’s hairy too, so it’s probably due to genetics
   At least as a girl, I can give it a whirl and cover some with cosmetics

Details | Alan Balter Poem

My Hybrid Dog

A Hybrid Dog


At first, my dog seemed normal to me
Doing the things that dogs do
Then he started signaling for turns
And stopping for red lights, too

There came a time when he wouldn’t poop
Like anyone else, he missed ‘em
A trip to the local mechanic revealed
A clogged emission system

Then whenever it started to rain
He started acting real hyper
So I took him to the auto parts store
And fit him out with a wiper

Whenever a stranger came to the door
He yapped as you’d assume
But soon he stopped his barking
And started to go ‘VROOOM”

Things went smoothly for a while
He did nothing for which I was sorry
Until I caught him at the curb
Trying to hump a Ferrari

Yesterday, he lapped up some gasoline 
At the station yesterday
He ran in circles real crazy,
Then sprinted like mad away

He ran for no more than a block
Then keeled over, I feared he was dead
But no reason at all to be alarmed
He just ran out of gas instead

 I love my dog without condition
No matter what it requires
He’ll always have a home with me
Until his warranty expires

Details | Alan Balter Poem

What's the Hurry

What’s the Hurry?


Why it’s called “Rush Hour” surely beats me
‘Cause there won ’t be any rushing for an hour or three
There’s a solid mass of steel from ramp to overpass
With thousands of vehicles wasting gallons of gas

We’re trapped like rats in our metal cocoons
Moving ten feet since half past noon
My mood varies when I’m forced to idle 
From clinical depression to suicidal

In front of me there’s a truck loaded with cattle
Going who knows where, perhaps to Seattle
In all this hot air, by the time they get there
Those cows are likely to be medium rare

To my left, there’s a truck from United Van Lines
Moving someone’s furniture, brand new and fine
Across the country over deserts and peaks
By the time of arrival, they’ll be antiques

To my right is a hearse carrying a coffin
The driver is blowing his horn quite often
Hard to figure why he needs to worry
‘Cause his passenger isn’t in much of a hurry

Through my real view mirror, there’s an armored truck
The driver no doubt hauling millions of bucks
If he doesn’t reach the bank while he’s still alive
It’s likely those tens will be worth only five

So what do you do if you want to make time?
While you’re still a young person in your prime
All you must do is exit your garage door
On a Sunday morning between three and four

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