Category Archives: humorous poem

Clarity?

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Clarity?

I don’t really need a chip to know what you are thinking,
for when I ask, “Should I wear this?” your left eyelid starts blinking
like it does whenever you tell a little fib;
and I can tell your “It looks great!” sounds a little glib.
That’s how I know without a doubt you’re spinning a fine yarn;
and that, in fact, in this dress I must look wide as a barn.

If you say this dish is great but feed most to the dogs—
if you say I’m clever but you rarely read my blogs—
if you “want” to get together but we rarely do—
I’ve already read the clues to ascertain your view.
Yet, still I have the option to see the other side
and find a way to look at it that will preserve my pride.

Your eye might blink because a gnat got caught in it just now,
and so I do not really look as broad as any cow.
He just has a small appetite. Her eyesight might be failing.
She might be out of town and when she gets home from her sailing,
she’ll call me up and we will meet and have a laugh or two.
Without perfect clarity I get to choose my view
of believing what I want to in spite of what I’ve guessed.
When it comes to friendship, less clarity is best!

For RDP:Clarity

Toothpick

Toothpick

A blade of wheat that my dad found
spread out alone upon the ground
was no doubt relieved and thrilled
that it wound up, instead of milled,
stuck between my dad’s front choppers,
better there than in the hoppers
of the flour mill’s grinding wheels—
a sacrifice to future meals.
A fate as toothpick far superior
to a stomach’s dark interior!!

The three word for the 3 Things Challenge are: Thrilled, Milled, Ground

During wheat harvesting, my dad often had a stem of wheat, head attached, sticking out from between his two front teeth.  Caught in the act of picking his teeth, it was a handy storage place.  Other times of the year, his front pocket always contained a few toothpicks to first use, then suck on, switching them from side to side between his lips. This prompt was made just for me!!!

Timekeepers

Timekeepers

My dogs have clocks for stomachs.
I don’t know how they do it.
They value things by the extent
to which a dog can chew it.

Their feeding time is 8 AM
and without exception,
at precisely 7:59,
they demand  my attention

by pouncing on my stomach,
rousing me from sleep
so our kibbles appointment
I am sure to keep.

It happens every morning,
daily without exception.
It does no good for me to try
to practice a deception

by pulling covers over head
and feigning a deep sleep,
for my canine companions
have agendas I must keep.

Grumbling, I roll out of bed
to pee and then to sprint
to fulfill their 8 o’clock feeding
with no further hint!

So, seeing that I post each day
faithfully by nine,
do not merely credit me.
My incentive is canine.

Image by Cintage 72 Prompters: Zoe and Coco!!!

The Roads Both Taken (For Forgottenman’s Prompt)

The Roads Both Taken (Rejecting Manic-depression)

Two roads diverged in my mellow mood,
and happy I could then travel both,
I laughed. Then I commenced to brood,
and found, at length that I was loath
to forego one and choose them both!!!!

(Overview. Bipolar disorder (formerly called manic-depressive illness or manic depression) is a mental illness that causes unusual shifts in a person’s mood, energy, activity levels, and concentration. These shifts can make it difficult to carry out day-to-day tasks. There are three types of bipolar disorder.)

For Forgottenman’s Prompt, he wanted us to do a switcheroo on Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” by writing a poem using the lines “Two roads diverged in my mellow mood,
and happy I could then travel both,” as our first two lines. Above is my submission to the prompt.

To see my parody of “Mending Wall” go here: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2014/09/17/mending-pants-with-apologies-to-robert-frost/

And now click on this link to see the prompt and make your own submission: https://okcforgottenman.wordpress.com/2023/10/13/the-roads-both-taken-a-poetry-prompt-challenge-offering/

 

Jail Break: For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 623

Jail Break

All these words are borrowed. They are not really mine.
They came all neatly packaged in an orderly line
where they were held hostage, gathered up and wrapped—
a lexicography in waiting with its power oddly sapped.
Words slack with grief, all gathered in a long veiled sigh,
as though lined up like prisoners, scheduled to die.
Bare pockets empty of bare change, stripped of all their worth,
words that once soared to lofty heights were now brought down to earth.
But here I am their savior, for it’s been left to me
and other hero poets to set their power free.!

The words for The Sunday Whirl Wordle 623 are: slack grief hostage gather bare heights wrapped words pockets long veiled sigh

No Escape, for The Three Things Challenge

No Escape 

I’ve vowed that I will have no more
of all the things that I abhor.
Indeed, these things that I detest
that in the past came to infest
my head and home and my whole life,
causing pain and stress and strife,
I left behind when I moved South,
and merely hear by word-of-mouth.
And in return, I trade for tales
of my South-of-the-border travails.

 

For the Three Things Challenge the words are: ABHOR DETEST INFEST

Out on a Ledge (A Mountainous Misadventure)–For Wordle 622, Oct 1, 2023

Out on a Ledge
(A Mountainous Misadventure)

You’ve provoked me out upon this ledge
and forced me to survey the edge,
but I’m the biggest coward of all,
fast-forwarding to view the fall!

My eyes scroll over far below
the distance that I’d have to go
if I were to tip myself
off this narrow mountainous shelf.

That edge looks crumbly to me,
and instills in me a need to pee.
The sun’s rays swell into a fire,
that well may be my funeral pyre.

My buzzing brain shows lack of trust.
A throbbing heart dictates I must
be off to flee this place I hate.
I just remembered a previous date!

Get me out of here real fast,
or this date will be our last.
When you said we should get high,
I didn’t know you meant the sky!!!

 

I keep telling myself I’m going to stop doing these, but they are irresistible.  The words for The Sunday Whirl Wordle this week are: provoke ledge eyes rays scroll need throbbing buzz fire hate trust fall

Cold-Hearted, Short Little Prompt Poem

   

 I woke up to this prompt from Forgottenman:
No friggin’ idea why, but I just conjured up a three-word prompt: anvil, fluffy,                        sediment. Do with them as you will or not. (Yeah, I needa head to bed.)
I’ve said before that I am game for any challenge, so here goes:

Cold-Hearted
You’re fluffy as an anvil, as sweet as cod liver pie.
The sediment from the hearts you’ve broken piles up so high
that you can’t be seen behind it, so there you sit, alone.
reflecting on the shattered loves for which you must atone.

Image by Kasia Darenda on Unsplash. And this poem, although written in the second person, is not directed at the prompter. 

 

 

Feeling Owly

Feeling Owly
(But Owl Be Okay)

When I’m feeling owly and in no mood to talk,
better that you leave me and take a little walk.

Cuz when I’m feeling owly, I don’t like being rushed.
Owly just increases when a girl is feeling crushed.

So leave me to be whooo I am and go be whooo you are.
Leave me in my owly funk and jump into your car

and be off on your business, out in the world’s wild hum.
When I’m in a mood like this, feeling sorta glum,

it’s best to leave me all alone, feeling my mood’s crunch.
Once in a while I feel the need to join the owly bunch!

 

This silly poem actually took me 4 minutes to write. I used the other two minutes to edit and format. Ended in exactly 6 minutes!!! No piece of great literature, but it fulfilled the prompt.

For Stine’s Six Minute Challenge: Write for six minutes about the photo provided above. 

Grandma’s Birthday Confessions (For Sunday Whirl Wordle 620)

 

This might have been a better choice for Grandma’s Birthday Cake.

Grandma’s Birthday Confessions

A trick of fate has caused my skin to rumple, thin and bruise.
My limbs are merely spindles and my breasts simply refuse
to remain in their stations!  My locks once shiny gold
have dimmed to dullest silver, thus making me look old!
Of late, I find the edges of things have grown less clear.
I bump myself on door frames and on table tops. I fear
I may have a slight problem with my peripheral vision
which upon occasion has created much derision
on the part of youngsters, whose laughter, I suppose
has something to do with the lipstick on my nose.
And if you wonder why my bangs are so oddly fringed,
please don’t blame my hair stylist. I fear that they were singed
when I tried to blow the candles out on my birthday cake.
Who knew they’d use one candle for each year, for heaven’s sake?

The words for Sunday Whirl Wordle 620 were: late edge spindle skin rumple  fate trick slight singe dim limb