Category Archives: humorous poem

Exculpatory Failure: The Cookie Caper

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Exculpatory Failure: The Cookie Caper

My sister can’t explain the fate
of cookies missing from the plate.
A generous portion merely vanished
to unknown realms furtively banished.

Here, for instance is an example
of why she couldn’t take a sample:
she couldn’t reach the cookies there
so high above her tangled hair—
an argument I must impeach,
for they are not beyond her reach.

And so I cannot exculpate
her innocence in this debate.
The cookies have indeed gone missing.
The coffee pot is gently hissing
and I can’t accept her bluff
of why there are not cookies enough
for all my mother’s friends to chew
even one, let alone two!

My mother baked hour after hour
so they’d have plenty to devour,
yet now there are a paltry few.
I guess they’ll have to just make do
with a cookie each or less.
Good for their dieting, I guess.

Who can the guilty culprit be?
My sister hopes they’ll think it’s me
who stole said cookies from the plate
and not that tiny reprobate
with chocolate crumbles on her lips
and frosting on her fingertips.

My little sis, so innocent,
admits not where those cookies went.
Yet that bonanza clearly resides
somewhere within her own insides.

Today’s prompt words are bonanza, example, generous and exculpate.

The Vile Effects of Cabbage

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The Vile Effects of Cabbage

I love eating cabbage, but its end results are crass.
It may affect digestion with propensity towards gas.
Between you and your closest friends it may create a scism
as you rival wild leaves in the wind with your psithurism.

Prompt words today are cabbage, propensity, psithurism (the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustling of leaves) and affect. Illustration thanks to Ibuki Tsubo on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Pills or Porn

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Pills or Porn

My Spam mail’s always full of it, midnight, day or morn.
Who told them I’m in need of a daily dose of porn?
If I took the Viagra that they offer to me daily,
I wouldn’t be in need of porn to end my evenings gaily.

I’d simply cruise the malecón in search of company
flirting with each senior dude that I happen to see.
I’d freeze him with a subtle wink and flash one of my smiles,
then win him over quickly with coquettish wiles.

If he has any qualms at all, due to his advanced age,
I’d flash further encouragement that’s come to be the rage.
With great sophistication and a sense of calm,
I’d show him the Viagra I have stashed in my palm.

But this poem is misleading if you think I’m reliant
on you as a supplier. I’m not a likely client.
For vendors of Viagra, I have a tale of woe:
I can get it cheaper right here in Mexico!

Thanks to Lisa Coleman of  Our Eyes Open  for the suggestion that I turn a comment regarding Spam mail into a blog.  I was commenting about receiving 96 Spam messages in one day and most of them being about pills or porn. Oh man, is this blog every going to bring in a lot of Spam concerning Amoxicillin, Viagra and pornography!!! See how I sacrifice for you?

Non-inherited Tendencies

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Non-inherited Tendencies

I am forty-three years old. Why is it that my mother still feels it is her purpose in life to educate me?

She stands in front of the junk drawer in my kitchen, “There is no excuse for anyone to have a drawer like this in their house,” she says. With one finger, she rifles through the drawer, moving a pair of pliers closer to fifty peso bills for the water vendor  that are piled to its left, sending loose screws rolling across the bottom of the drawer.

I reach around her to hand her the pair of scissors she seeks. Then, once again, I careen into the precipice of self-doubt. Surely, others less-perfect than my mother have drawers such as this one.

My qualms deteriorate as I readjust my thoughts to coincide with the actual world, but as I restate mentally and silently my oft-repeated mantra. “What the eyes don’t see doesn’t matter,” my mother, briskly and methodically, starts arranging the drawer. 

 

Word prompts for today are What the eyes don’t see doesn’t matter, deteriorate, educate and precipice.

Bill Blass Blues

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Bill Blass Blues

My wife is unfaithful.  She’s out most every night
with another famous man—out in open sight.
She doesn’t want to hide it. She wants her friends to see
that she’s at every swish affair, clad fashionably.
Every Hermes bag and pair of winklepicker shoes
has contributed its bit to my costume blues.

Countless Dior dresses and each Givenchy blouse
added up to why we had to sell the house.
I’d taken out my equity and sold off all my stocks,
I locked her in her room, but she only picked the locks.
When I cancelled all her cards, she just applied for others,
and when I closed out all of those, she asked to use her mother’s.

I am a closet pauper. As you might suppose,
challenged by my wife’s outlandish lust for clothes.
If only her love affairs were with lesser men
than Michael Kors or Givenchy, Dior or Ralph Lauren.
If only she could lighten up and buy her clothes at Ross’s
perhaps I could pay off my loans and modify my losses!

 

 

 

Prompt words today were lighten, challenge, winklepicker and equity.

Beached

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Beached

Snug in his nest in Mar-a-Lago he wonders
how to invest the additional plunders
he’s gained in his years of selling his favor.
He ponders his ice cream and wonders what flavor
they delivered today with his fries and Big Mac.
He gives it a lick and then gives a loud quack.
He’s big duck in this puddle, so does not know why
past cronies of his keep passing him by
avoiding eye contact. Do they not recall
how he was the single best POTUS of all?

Where are all of his partners in crime and dissent?
Can anyone tell him where they all went?
Where’s Ivanka?  Where’s Jared? On to their next steal?
Don’t they know he invented the art of the deal?
Once they jumped to his dictates as head of state.
Did other past presidents share the same fate?
Did Jefferson suffer a similar plight?
Did Washington sit alone every night
while Martha took off with her nightclubbing friends?
Did other great men meet with similar ends?

His last month in office he took a great scalding.
He’s lonely, obese and orange and balding.
He’s plummeted earthwards from such a great height
that all  of his minions should share in his plight,
yet they’ve all gone on to lives of their own,
leaving him here to pine on his throne. 
But what is the reason for his blatant smirking?
Can it possibly be that without even working
he’ll draw a huge pension for the rest of his life,
plus a travel allowance for him and his wife?

 

Prompt words for the day are dissent, snug, smirk and blatant. Images thanks to Unsplash. Used with permission.

Immodest Proposal

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Immodest Proposal

The busy restaurant suddenly as silent as a tomb—
my “No” resounding clearly all across the room.
It was this blunt refusal that brought him to his knees,
begging my forgiveness and finally saying “Please!”
Tenderness exuding from his every word,
he repeated his offer in a manner less absurd.
His sangfroid left behind him, he presented me the ring
with proper reverence as though it was a sacred thing.
It was a better proposal than the first one he had pitched
when he tossed the ring box at me and said, “Wanna get hitched?”

Prompt words today are sangfroid, instead, tenderness and lapse.

Final Cure

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Final Cure

Her health was being challenged by a constant series of woes.
She had chilblains on her fingers and corns between her toes.
She suffered migraine headaches, and her joints became rheumatic
during the rainy season, when she also turned asthmatic.
Since her approach to cures was stubbornly heuristic,
the remedies she chose to use tended toward pluralistic.
Her health care ran the gamut from Kabbalah to holistic.
One day she saw a doctor and the next she saw a mystic.
And since the switching back and forth became a sort of Hell,
in the end she gave them all up and decided to get well!

 

Prompt words for the day are health, series, heuristic and woe.

Ulterior Motive

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Ulterior Motive

When you take me to the gym for our initial date,
do you mean to intimate you find me overweight?
You blanket me with strategies for my self- improvement
and give me tips on dieting and exercise and movement,
then hand over your business card as a personal trainer,
saying you require a small amount for a retainer.

Because your gaze was mesmerizing, I became distracted,
but now I think that this first “date” will not be reenacted.
I see now that the signal in your eyes when they met mine
was not infatuation, but simply a money sign.
When it comes to self-improvement, I know what I must do.
The first option that I’ll exercise is getting rid of you!

 

Word prompts today are blanket, intimate, mesmerizing and distracted.

Cease and Desist Order

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Cease and Desist Order

My car’s due for an overhaul, but unlikely to get it.
My dog could use a clipping, but I’m not going to vet it.
I’m balking at improvements. I like things as they are.
I don’t want people poking at my dog or at my car.

Though my house might be enlivened by another coat of paint,
I like the faded, peeling look. I think it’s sort of quaint.
And though my coat is tattered and fraying at the hem,
it is my favorite garment—my closet’s unset gem.

You won’t wrest it from my clutches, for my grasp is strong and sure.
There’s not one thing in my whole life that’s needful of a cure.
So let my grass grow longer and let last fall’s leaves lay.
Let us all just rest here to molder fast away.

I do not want a face lift. I’m fine the way I am.
I have no need for beauty aids to make me look more glam.
When it comes to your suggestions, I must beg for their surcease!
All things don’t need improvement. You can let things age in peace.

 

 

Prompt words today are wrest, overhaul, balk and liven. First photo by Forgottenman. Second photo thanks to Curology on Unsplash. Both photos used with permission.