Category Archives: Humor

Conundrum

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A conundrum is a kind of riddle based upon some fanciful or fantastic resemblance between things quite unlike. It creates a puzzling question, of which the answer is or involves a pun. Solve this riddle and win a prize. (My admiration.) Try not to look at the comments until you’ve guessed the answer yourself. Then, please brag to me about it in the comments section!
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What does not think but has a head?
Has many stories never read?
For each of us, just one, not many.
Contains much heart, yet has not any.
Some say once gone, you can’t go back,
and though one letter it may lack,
with it, if you hit the ball,
you’ll have the finest luck of all.
Add “r” and cover all the bases,
and you’ll bring smiles to many faces.
And when you finally come in free,
you’ll find you have come back to me.

 

Today’s prompt word is “conundrum.”

Wan Yvonne

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Version 2Wan Yvonne

Although in summer she is tannish,
in winter color seems to vanish.
So from November up to March,
her skin is colored white as starch.
In fact, I think it would be valid
to say that she is rather pallid.
But all-in-all, she still looks fine
even without  bikini line!

 

The prompt word today is “vanish.”

Lofty Evasions

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Lofty Evasions

One of the only problems with the prompt word “lofty”
is that the only word that rhymes happens to be “softie.”
Who can make a poem of that with no rhymes to use,
unless their perfect versifying they choose to abuse?
I’ve been busy all day long with no time to solve this,
but just this minute figured out a way I could resolve this.
My problem I’ll discuss at length, using random rhyme.
Until I reach the final line and just run out of time.

The prompt today was, “Lofty.”

Rearrangement

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Rearrangement

As long as my world keeps on changing,
it’s going to require rearranging.
Poor Pasiano bears the brunt
of labor as we shift and hunt
for repair tiles for the bath.
Their tiny chips create a path
from cabinet through the garage,
joining others in the barrage
of hidden things brought to the light
that fill my garage like a blight.

For fifteen years, we have been stacking
tiles here in their paper packing.
But boxes stowed away so nice
have since been frequented by mice
who ate away their once sharp edges
so tiles fall on shelves and ledges,
spilling out to bite the dust
of chewed up paper and dirt and rust.
All these years of accumulation
lead to mess and perturbation.

Would that I’d left it as it was,
hidden out of sight, because
now we have this awful mess
and to be truthful, I must confess,
I’ve lost my patience for this sorting.
I would rather be cavorting
in the pool or on the page.
Instead, I search and stack and rage.
Dusty, back-sore, tired, deranged—
I also have been rearranged!

(Click on first photo to enlarge pictures and read captions.)

One problem is the salitre that has risen up through my Saltillo tiles throughout the house.
But this meant sorting through 15 years of boxes of tile to see if I had enough marble tiles as well as mosaic tiles that would match the ones presently in my bathroom.
Unfortunatey, not only were all of my boxes of the many different tiles used in my house stored in a difficult cabinet to reach, but also, mice seemed to have used the boxes they were in for material to build nests.
This meant removing all the tiles and a trip to the dread Walmart to try to find boxes small enough to store them in so they would fit back into the narrow cabinet.
Neither a fun project nor an unmessy one.

The prompt word today is “rearrange.”  How appropriate. In the next month, I’ll be replacing all the floor tiles in my house and changing my oversized built in tub into a shower.  Major remodeling here, and it was necessary to sort through an entire cabinet in the garage to try to find tiles to match the wall and tub tiles and marble inlay.  As you have seen above, it was no easy task, thanks to 15 years of rodent activity hidden away in the recesses of the difficult-to-access storage cabinet where we’d been stacking different tiles for years.

Beating the Bans

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Beating the Bans

If you think that I’ve flunked at being a wife
and been 86’d from a domestic life,
was it the pie crust that I made too tough?
Might I have failed at life in the buff?
Didn’t I kiss right? Did I flub the pressing,
leaving a wrinkle in my husband’s dressing?
Did I speak out too much for my kind?
Not take into account that fellows might mind
if I had a career of my own to take care of,
not feeling it adequate I had a pair of
breasts you could fondle or legs I could wind,
an adequate body, a perky behind?
If I’m not the kind of lass you might marry,
the sort who leaves you rattled and wary:
brash and smart and outspoken and bold,
excellent negotiator, stubborn and cold?
If I am unfit as a humble home’s resident,
perhaps I might make you an excellent president!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/banned/

Zits (A Cure for Acne): WordPress Daily Post: Urgent

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daily-life-color226-2I don’t know why we all look so pleased about that really big one on my chin.
Teenagers are a strange species. This photo circa 1961, summer camp.

Zits
(A Cure for Acne)

Hormones need an exit too,
and I fear, dear teen, it’s you
they choose to make their mark upon;
but rest assured, they’ll soon be gone.

The need for Retin-A is urgent
when a new batch becomes emergent,
and though you quell the vile insurgent,
all too soon it is resurgent.

The solution for you is not simple.
You might consider veil and wimple
that hide both blemish and that dimple,
or simply choose to pop the pimple.

And though your folks will foot your bill
to pop, instead, the pimple pill
or swathe your face with Clearasil,
another can show up, and will.

Most folks my age have reached concurrence,
so please accept our reassurance.
Against each crop there’s no insurance.
it simply takes faith and endurance.

You might obsess and cry and pout
and wonder what it’s all about;
but it will pass, without a doubt
when age replaces it— with gout.

The prompt word today was “Urgent.”

Skinny-dip

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Version 3

Skinny-Dip

If he’d been more well-imbued,
perhaps the ladies might have queued
to be the one he might have wooed.

Instead, when he swam in the nude,
all the women bathers booed,
making comments  crass and lewd.

His face turned pale, then roseate-hued,
his manner cringing and subdued
as he hurried to elude

each smug and cruel insulting prude—
the cat-callers who stood and viewed
that poor unfortunate naked dude.

As those ladies,smug and rude,
Departed, calling his act crude,
as each one passed me by, I mooed.

The prompt today was “Subdued.”

 

Clumsy II

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Clumsy

Since the first poem I posted today was really more about laziness than clumsiness, I’m posting another one about genuine physical clumsiness.  It is borrowed from an old Smiley Burnett skit. All these years later, and although I’ve grown to hate limericks, I’ve never forgotten this one. I guess we’ll forgive him for repeating a rhyme, since it is used in two connotations.

There once was a feller named Hall
Who fell in the spring in the fall.
‘Twould have been a sad thing
If he’d died in the spring,
But he didn’t, he died in the fall.

Thd prompt word today was “Clumsy.”

 

A Passing Grace

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“Graceful” is today’s prompt word.

A Passing Grace

Where is the grace in our swift world?
Does it lie hidden, obscurely curled
In younger limb or nimbler spine,
in movement smooth and gesture fine?
As I pondered over this,
I started to feel hunger’s hiss,
so fed the dogs their morning meat,
then turned my mind to what I’d eat.

I piled my bowl with bran and berries
and when it came to choice of dairies?
Ice cream if I must be truthful.
(My eating habits, at least, are youthful.)
I headed for the dining room
and then—a crash and solid boom
as I went down with flail and swish,
having stepped in Frida’s dish.

I landed flat—leg, arm and head.
As for the bowl? The bowl is dead.
As it exploded in dust and shard,
berries, cream and bran hit hard
and efficiently dispersed themselves
o’er floor and cabinets and shelves
as I lay moaning on the floor
with swelling ankle and what’s more—

a skinned up arm and throbbing knee—
bemoaning what was wrong with me.
Where is the grace in our swift world?
Does it lie hidden, obscurely curled
In younger limb—or nimbler spine?
It’s clear it is not lodged in mine!
For whatever other talents I’ve got,
when it comes to “graceful,” I am not.

Here are the graceful creatures I had intended to write about:

 

 

Dispelling Dilemma

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Dispelling Dilemma

No matter how sad or distressing or gory,
for a writer, dilemmas become a new story.
You should forgive us, for the truth of it is
that the pathos of life provides part of the fizz.
We simply don’t know why there’s all of this fuss,
until the dilemmas happen to us.

 

The prompt word today was “Dilemma.”