Category Archives: Humor

Admonitions from the Editor of the Southern Christian Monitor

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Admonitions from the Editor of The Southern Christian Monitor

Good gracious, sir can you not mend your pertinent demeanor?
Clean up your language, cease your slurs. Find language that is cleaner!
When you speak, why must you be such a surly gent?
For once why don’t you try to say something we can print?
Your thoughts are fine. It’s just the words with which you choose to state them.
It simply is your word choice that makes us excoriate them.
As my southern mama used to say, “For goodness sakes, y’all,
if you can’t say it politely, don’t say anything at all!”

 

Disclaimer: There is to my knowledge no such publication as The Southern Christian Monitor. This poem is pure fiction, prompted by the prompt words!!!

Prompt words today are gracious, slur, pertinent, mend and print. Image by Roman Kraft on Unsplash.

New Neighbor

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New Neighbor

We exercise due diligence, but still we find we can’t
avoid the proclamations and the daily rant
that we’ve had to put up with, lately, ever since
our new caustic neighbor started peering o’er the fence,
raising his head above it by standing on a stump
to spread the raving tirade that he loves to dump

on anybody present who’s so unfortunate
as to visit our back yard and encounter this nut.
Every time I go outside, I must absorb  his spewing.
He seems to have some radar that tracks all that we’re doing,
so when I take the garbage out, he’s always out there, too,
spreading verbal garbage that he’s amassed anew.

I guess there’s only one way to get out of this groove.
It may seem excessive, but I think we’ll have to move.
We’ll find a brand new house that has a tall back wall
and rebuff any neighbors who should try to call.
We’ll be the sort of neighbors that no one seems to know,
but we’ll have blessed privacy when we go out to mow !

Prompt words today are stump, anybody, caustic, diligent and absorb. Image by Waldemar Brandt on Unsplash.

7 A.M.

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Waking up Mom

 

7 A.M.

Their rebuke is most benign.
Cats yowl protest. The dogs all whine.

As outside dogs slip into gear,
Zoe wakes up and bites my ear.

Their stomachs are a timetable
that I will meet if I am able.

I drag myself out of my bed.
If only I could sleep instead!

The hour that I hit the hay
I fear was not so far away.

Three hours of sleep or perhaps four
were all I had. Surely, not more.

Just as I thought to jump sleep’s hurdle
I remembered, “Daily Wordle!”

Grabbed computer, filled every square,
weeding out vowels my only care.

Wordle in five or four or three?
I cannot sleep until I see.

But later, morning comes too soon
as animals begin their croon.

I move to kitchen to feed cats,
open the door, put bowls on mats,

fill with kibble and with wet 
catfood, and they still their fret.

Move to back door, feed each dog
different portions, mind in fog.

Zoe inside, big dogs out,
fends off pilfering and pout.

What I gain in remuneration
is their ceasing excitation.

Whines replaced by scraping beat
of metal dishes on concrete,

clicking jaw and lapping tongue
as cats and dogs both old and young

enjoy results of their design.
Then, back to bed as they all dine!

Prompt words today are concrete, remuneration, design, rebuke and timetable.

,

Fauna Fashion

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Fauna Fashion

Fox in sox and cats in spats.
Dogs in clogs and rats in hats.
When pigs are on sabbatical,
they’re rather acrobatical,

so they depend on spandex suits
as well as stretchy rubber boots
to make sure they don’t skid and fall
when they’re performing in the mall.

In urban settings, it’s a blessing
that there’s more reason to be dressing
formally. Of course that means
a negative on cut-off jeans.

Cool cats are not satisfied
until they have been spatified,
and sequined tops and silken slacks
are de rigueur, as are scoop backs.

But, perchance, have you been  guessing
the one bird not fond of dressing?
(His response you’ll find less quirky
when you hear that it’s the turkey.)

Prompts today are fox, sabbatical, negative, urban and satisfied. All illustrations are free images from the internet.

Misnamed

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Misnamed

I admit my name seems to lack a certain beauty.
I’ll never be an eponym. Who wants a town named Judy?

It’s clear that my name never makes it into poet talk.
No unfortunate child will be the chip off my old block.

Interlaced with second names —Agatha or Jeanette,
still that silly first name is as basic as you get.

The reception that it gets in lists is surely less than fine.
Somehow I always end up being sent to last in line.

It’s not correct to grumble over names, but all the same,
why give a perfect child such a clearly imperfect name?

 

 

Prompts today are interlace, correct, reception, eponym and chip.

On the Subject of Similes vs. Metaphors: NaPoWriMo 2022, Day 26

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Advice to a Poetry Critic

Each poet worth her salt adores
well-appointed metaphors,
but when they step up to the mike,
similes they only like.
Before you discuss simile
consult an expert vis a vis
the difference between the two
so you will never have to rue
mislabeling your imagery.
Hyperbole is not allusion,
so don’t add to the confusion.
Synecdoche to oxymoron––
as you choose what to write more on––
get their names right for your reader.
There’s more to poems than rhyme and meter!

This is a rerun from a few year ago, but couldn’t resist using it for NaPoWriMo.

Splitting Hairs with My Shrink

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Splitting Hairs with My Shrink

Mustard on my hot dogs, ketchup on my fries,
a paper napkin handy to ward off all the flies
trying to disport themselves by crouching on my food,
sharing all the germs they’re rumored to exude.

If I had some shrink wrap, before they alight,
I’d cover up my dinner between every bite.
Would this be outrageous? Would it be overkill?
Should I uncover it for them when I’ve had my fill?

I’m feeling quite outrageous here chatting with my shrink
sharing what I eat and do and say and think.
Will I be a protagonist or will she despise
a person who refuses to share leftovers with flies?

 

Prompts today are mustard, outrageous, protagonist, disport and shrink.

Ever After

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Ever After

A pair of decent buttocks could bring him to a halt.
Distorted or unusual to him was not a fault.
High or low or sagging part way to the floor,
he cared not how big they were. He cared not what they wore.
Clad in silk or denim, chambray or flour sacks,
he simply loved what bodies carried on their backs.
You would find him tongue-tied if you met him on your way,
but as he turned to watch you as you walked away,
he could pen a sonnet on what went through his mind
as he reconnoitered you purely from behind.

Prompt words today are unusual, halt, buttocks, distorted, decent.

Impertinent Food: NaPoWriMo 2022, Day 20

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Impertinent Food

I don’t enjoy it when food talks back.
A potato chip or Crackerjack
makes too much noise when you are chewing,
and gives away what you are doing.

Beans tattle in retrospect
so all around you folks suspect
that you have eaten of their fruit,
betrayed by legume’s blatant toot.

Food should be eaten but not heard.
That it talks back is most absurd.
That’s why edibles less rude
are my favorite sorts of food.

NaPoWriMo prompt: I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that anthropomorphizes a kind of food.

Culinary Apologies

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Culinary Apologies

Though some would say that I’m a flake
when I’m called upon to bake,
and though I qualify just barely,
I feel I’m typecast most unfairly.

True, I rank with all the rookies
when it comes to baking cookies,
and my cupcakes don’t win prizes
at anything but worst surprises.

Nonetheless, my precedent
at providing less than I had meant
is never intentional.
It’s just that I am rather dull

when it comes to pleasuring
by sifting, baking, measuring.
I lack that culinary calm
so never cook without a qualm.

When I baked banana bread
and measured powdered sugar instead
of flour, yes, I must confess
it created an awful mess.

And when I burned the chicken stew
because I had so much to do,
I hope that you remember that
I trimmed the plants and fed the cat,

wrote a poem and made some art,
(scorched the toast and burned the tart)
took the puppy for a walk,
phoned a friend and had a talk.

So though my fridge is lacking stuff,
I find my life is full enough
All in all, what I’ve got cookin’
may not be where you are lookin’.

Prompts today are flake, calm, intentional, typecast and precedent. (If you want to read about the powdered sugar debacle, click on the link where it is mentioned in the poem.)