Category Archives: humorous poem

Hunters and Gatherers

Hunters and Gatherers

Each animal survives because of some unique ability.
The chipmunk gets along in life because of its nimbility.
It scampers over rocks and logs with speed and grace and pluck
to grab up errant picnic crumbs (on days when it’s in luck.)

Lions live by tooth and claw and speed to hunt their prey.
Cows just use their molars to masticate their hay.
Incisors furnish beavers with foliage and bark.
Raccoons have larger eyes than us for hunting in the dark.

If food in lofty places is what monkeys desire,
they can use prehensile thumbs to journey ever higher,
but an elephant’s long trunk can help him reach what he may please

obviating his necessity to climb up trees.

Humans , however, do not need  trunks or speed or climbing.
They do not need agility or viciousness or timing.
They have no need to wait in hiding by some water hole.
They simply use their money to buy  filet of sole!

 

Today’s prompt words are nimble, obviate, desire and money. Here are the links:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/29/rdp-monday-nimble/
FOWC with Fandango — Obviate
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/29/your-daily-word-prompt-desire-april-29-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/29/money/

Urban Princess

Urban Princess

Those bucolic pleasures such as sleeping in a tent
are clearly not the pleasures for which this girl was meant.
I prefer my pleasures slightly more urbane.
Cooking over campfires? Definitely insane.
I find it most peculiar— this sleeping in the sticks—
where there are bears and badgers and mosquitos and ticks!
If life is a tapestry composed of warp and weave,
the warped part would be country life, I’m given to believe.
I represent the city scene. That is where I belong,
so If your plans include the countryside, I shall not go along.
Picnics? They’re for peasants. This sitting in the grass
with merely a thin blanket to separate your ass
from the dirt and ants and briars , friend, just isn’t me.
I prefer a terrace floor complete with canopy!
That’s the extent of sylvan pleasures that I’m content to try,
so if vacation plans are rural, I beg—just pass me by!

 

Disclaimer: This is an assumed personality, dear readers. I used to love camping and I’m not averse to cooking over a campfire or, if given a hand up afterwards, to sitting in the grass.

Prompt words today are warp, bucolic, represent and peculiar. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/ragtag-sunday-warp/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/04/28/fowc-with-fandango-bucolic/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/your-daily-word-prompt-represent-april-28-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/peculiar/

Premature Departure

Premature Departure

In this lackluster party,
even the guacamole’s gray!
It’s not the proper ending
to an equally dull day.

The secret of good parties
lies within their zing.
Who enjoys a party
that never quite takes wing?

The soda pop has all gone flat,
The wine being decanted?
Everyone who tasted it
thereafter soon recanted.

From this dreadful party,
we all beg prompt respite.
What could possibly happen
to address our stressful plight?

I’ve wasted this new outfit
that makes me look so thin,
for it’s identical to one
 our party giver’s in!!

The music is all polkas
and the orchestra’s off-key.
What will be the next disaster?
I cannot bear to see.

I see that last thought’s irony
as I flick off the light,
grab my coat, slip out the door,
and vanish in the night.


The prompt words today are identical, respite, lies and lackluster. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/27/rdp-saturday-identical/
FOWC with Fandango — Respite
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/27/your-daily-word-prompt-lies-april-27-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/27/lacklustre/

Early Bird

Early Bird

The party got much better right after you walked out.
You would have really liked it, I can say without a doubt.
The cornucopia of desserts you brought was a definite hit,
but as we enjoyed its bounty, we wished you hadn’t split.

The baby took his first step and Grandma came alive
as though for this Thanksgiving, her memory she’d revive.
Cousin Shirley was a panic and the kids performed a play—
the whole family there to see it (if you had chosen to stay.)

So, the freeway was in gridlock from five o’clock to eight?
Negotiating lane changes was hurry up and wait?
By the time the party ended, traffic was flowing freely.
Uncle Arthur breezed right by us in his classic Austin Healey!

Everyone got home okay. We were in bed by nine—
about the same time you got home from waiting in that line.
Hearing old family stories may not be your favorite thing,
but versus overheated engines, they have a certain zing.

Splitting out on family may not be a  crime,
but did leaving three hours early save you any time?
When you’re in the biggest hurry, you’re  most frequently delayed.

You might have gotten home faster if only you had stayed!

 

Word prompts today are cornucopia, hurry, negotiate and delayed. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/25/rdp-thursday-cornucopia/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/04/25/fowc-with-fandango-hurry/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/25/your-daily-word-prompt-negotiate-april-25-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/delayed/

 

Overdue

Screen Shot 2019-04-24 at 10.23.47 AM

Overdue

My Auntie tends to use me for
those sorts of tasks she must abhor.
Thus was it yesterday that she
sent me to the library.

Just the name of the last book
she’d borrowed was all I took.
This is the message I relayed:
“This book return will be delayed.

I finished it in record time,
and yes, I found the book sublime,
but then I fear it made a hit
with another who’s not through with it.

He found my Inside Daisy Clover
and found the need to chew it over.
I know that it’s a red hot seller.
All the reviews find it stellar.

I know that countless folks have read it,
the borrower’s sheet in front has said it.
In fact, I find the cover worn,
the binding weak, the pages torn.

And so I’d like to buy a new
copy to return to you.
So, just renew the book once more
’til I can get out to the store.

My family member must finish it,
but I fear he’ll diminish it
until it is unheedable.
Already, it’s barely readable.!

The library was most compliant,
and once again, my aunt reliant
on my finding a new book
to replace the one our puppy took!

 

The poem is fiction, but the photos depict a true story of when Morrie was a new puppy  a couple of years ago.

The prompt words today are book, extra, renew and delayed. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/rdp-wednesday-book/
FOWC with Fandango — Extra
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/your-daily-word-prompt-renew-april-24-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/delayed/

The Gawkey and Flaybottomist, NaPoWriMo 2019, Apr 24

“The Gawkey and Flaybottomist—Who Should Have Stopped When First They Kissed”

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I guess when I chose to use the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue  from my own bookshelf, I should have realized that at least 1/2 of the terms would involve sexual innuendo. Nonetheless, I decided to proceed. I must warn you that the following poem is a bit risqué, so please avoid reading it if rude language offends thee!

The 16 terms I used and their definitions are given after the poem. If you wish, you might want to read them before the poem, or you can try to follow context clues to discover their meaning on your own:

 

“The Gawkey and Flaybottomist—Who Should Have Stopped When First They Kissed”

I predict the cross patch and the flaybottomist
are the sort of women least likely to be kissed.
The first’s so busy grumbling that the kiss never connected,
while the second merely thinks of how the kiss may be corrected.

Now, there was an awkward village boy excessively unworldly,
that on one occasion had acted most absurdly
by planting a fast buss upon his teacher’s nearby cheek
then since he was both young and shy, he beat a fast retreat.

The following week when mellow, he thought he’d try again—
His amorous nature brought out by much congress with his gin.
He desired a bit of relish, and the gin made him a fool
So he took his gaying instrument up to the village school.

I fear he was a gawkey–the worst that you might meet,
and he tripped over his crab shells as he stumbled up the street.
The roaring boys pursued him, thinking they would later cackle
leaking all the secrets of where gawkey stowed his tackle.

Upon his knock, the school teacher opened up the door,
attired in her negligee–and I fear nothing more.
She greeted him with Friday-face, but he took little note,
for he was practicing the lines that he had learned by rote.

The teacher was a dumplin and her suitor tall and thin,
yet when she heard his practiced plea, I fear she let him in.
But what he didn’t know then, as he quenched his carnal thirst
was that on that night of visitors, he was not the first.

The reason our flaybottomist had greeted him ungowned,
clad only in her negligee and with her hair unwound,
was because the French instructor had been there to give instruction—
a fact that I fear later led to misery and destruction.

For her tutor left her Frenchified, which she passed to the gawkey,
who took his French leave quickly, feeling a good deal less cocky.
The moral of this little tale—at least the one you’ll get?
Things are apt to get sticky when you’re the teacher’s pet!

 

Words from the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue used in this poem:

*crab shells:  Irish, shoes
*gawkey: a tall, thin, awkward man or woman
*gaying instrument: the penis
*cross patch: a peevish boy or girl, an unsocial or ill-tempered man or woman
*relish: carnal connection with a woman
*cackle or leaky: to blab or reveal secrets
*roaring boy: a noisy, riotous fellow
*flaybottomist: a schoolteacher
*mellow: almost drunk
*dumplin: a short thick man or woman
*tackle:  a man’s genitals
*Friday-face:  a dismal countenance (Friday being a day of abstinence.)
*French leave: to go off without taking leave of the company
*Frenchified: infected with venereal disease.
*Negligee: a woman’s undressed gown,
*buss: a kiss “kissing and bussing differ both in this, We busse our wantons,
but our wives we kisse! (Robert Herrick, “Hesperides,” 1648) from buss, 1570.

The NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a poem influenced by a reference book. This poem was actually written for a similar NaPoWriMo prompt three years ago and I know the point is to write a poem a day, but since I always write another poem a day anyway making use of four prompts, and will do so today, I reckon this isn’t cheating.

Word Soup, Apr 22, 2019

 

My “Not Yet Dead Poets” group met at 2 p.m. yesterday and when I got home at 5, I was pooped, since I hadn’t gone to bed until nearly 5 a.m. the night (morning) before so had only had four hours sleep. I fed the cats and dogs (I hope), put the soup in the slow cooker on high, and lay down for a little nap. I was awakened at 3 a.m. by Annie my cat, demanding to be fed, so I got up,  put the bean soup in the fridge, read email messages and a Skype message from Forgottenman expressing worry, first of all, that I was okay, and secondly, amazement that I hadn’t posted yesterday for the first time in 5 years. It’s true, although I did post yesterday’s topic in NaPoWriMo, the  night before, so I’m still claiming to have maintained my habit.  So, here’s my poem owed from yesterday. Don’t expect too much, ’cause I am, as stated below in the title––

Just Scraping By

My foray into poesy I fear will be most terse.
At 4 a.m. I fear that you’d probably do worse.
I’m fortified with coffee and determined to come through.
I’ve done yesterday’s dishes and journeyed to the loo,
but still associations don’t pop into my mind,
and so for clever rhymes I fear I’m in a bind.
And though I’d like to come up with a better poem for you,
I got all four damn words in and I guess that it must do.

Prompt words today are foray, terse, fort and association. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/22/rdp-monday-foray/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/04/22/fowc-with-fandango-terse/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/22/fort/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/22/your-daily-word-prompt-association-april-22-2019/

Entreaty: NaPoWriMo 2019, Apr 17

Entreaty

I lie obscured behind a pot.
The pot is dry, but I am not.
Thanks to an active little doggy,
my usual state is chewed and soggy.
But, I should introduce y’all
to who I am—a small green ball.
And though I’m meant to just play tennis,
I fear I face a greater menace.

The antagonist of my sad story
is a Scottie dog named Morrie,
and though all humans find him cute,
his proclaimed merits I’ll refute.
If you’ll forgive a bit of kvetching,
I will explain—he’s fond of fetching.
Hour on hour, day after day,
he makes humans cast me away.

He  likes to fetch and chew and drool,
then toss me back into the pool
for whomever happens to be
taking a swim to rescue me
and throw me back down in the yard
so that hairy little card
can race back down to find where I
have been tossed down to and now lie.

I was once pristine—so green and soft—
perfectly planned for bounce and loft,
my lifetime planned and guaranteed
until she broke my seal and freed
me to what I was sure would be
the perfect gaming life for me.
But soon I was given pause
when I was seized between the jaws

of a leaping frenzied pup
who promptly tried to chew me up
and failing this, launched me into
the swimming pool’s warm watery blue.
I’ve lasted, now, three days or four.
It’s doubtful I can last for more.
For after days of constant chewing,
A ball’s not fit for sport or viewing.

Seams split and release air,
sink in the pool and languish there.
The only hope for my abiding
is if I can stay in hiding.
Please don’t reveal my little lair.
Help me preserve my seams and air.
For I will surely lose my bounce
if I’m exposed to one more pounce,

to one more bite or one more chew.
Please save my life. I’m begging you.
If you would simply pick me up
before I’m found by that damn pup,
and throw me over that far wall,
no one would know of it at all.
Perhaps some tennis buff would meet
me lying there upon the street.

He’d pick me up and take me where
I could be sailing through the air
racket to racket—kiss by kiss,
for surely I was made for this!!!
I’ve done my penance, served my time.
I’ve earned a life that’s more sublime.
So hear my plea and heed my call.
Bend down, pick up and throw the ball!!!

 

 

The NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a poem from an unusual point of view.

 

Check Mate

 

Version 2

Check Mate

Some girls are bent on wedding any Tom or Dick or Harry,
but when it comes to choosing the man one wants to marry,
a lass should be selective­­––very circumspect and wary
lest she overlook what’s prime for his subsidiary.
A lesser man will drop the ball a better man will carry.
Is it best to know the difference? “Yes!” I insist, “Very!”
Choose a man who makes you hum, and once met, do not tarry.
Why settle for a mere canoe when you can take the ferry?

 

Prompts for today are ferry, subsidiary, prime and hum—or drop. (Ragtag’s prompt page and URLs sport two different words.) Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/16/rdp-tuesday-hum-2/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/04/16/fowc-with-fandango-prime/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/16/your-daily-word-prompt-subsidiary-april-16-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/16/ferry/

Since NaPoWriMo seems to have dropped all my links off all 16 of the poems I’ve done for them in the past sixteen days, I’m also going to include a link to that poem here in hopes a few people will see it: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2019/04/16/bucket-listless-napowrimo-2019-apr-16/

 

Bucket Listless: NaPoWriMo 2019, Apr 16

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Bucket Listless

Please don’t ever make me go back to Cancun.
If I never return there, I’ve visited too soon.
Don’t make me go to church again or listen to more rap.
Don’t make me go to bed at eight or take a daily nap.
I don’t want to do those things I don’t want to do.
Don’t make me look at animals trapped up in a zoo.

Brains are meant for keeping up farther in your head.
To have to eat the things I think with fills my mind with dread.
Don’t make me eat anything only adults eat:
liver, caviar, pate, kidneys or pigs’ feet.
All of those are parts of animals I’ve come to fear,
for none of them are meant to put in human mouths, my dear.

I think that I’ll live longer without jumping from above.
For bungee cords or parachutes I have no sort of love.
Even roller coasters present uncalled-for risk.
For me a walk upon the beach is adequately brisk.
Anything that’s bumpy, jerky, swooping, fast or twirly
makes me want to arrive late and go home really early.

Please don’t make me listen to those who rant and rave.
If I meet them in the street, I’ll merely nod and wave.
Let bores much given to monologues find another ear;
because those who never listen, I have no wish to hear.
Tea-partiers, loud mouths, bigots and folks in the elite
are on my list of strangers I do not need to meet.

I hope no radiation or chemotherapy
is ever necessary to make me cancer-free.
No machines to make me breathe and no dialysis.
As little poking, pushing, testing and analysis
as possible is what I wish for on my “do not” list.
Just let me go gently into that final mist.

I’ve grown to hate the overuse of “bucket list” as label
for what folks want to do before their death if they are able.
So please be more original in thinking what to call
that list of things that you most want to do before you fall.
For the thing that I don’t want as “I am” turns into “been”
Is to ever hear the phrase of “bucket list” again!

 

The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to write a poem using a list to defamiliarize the mundane. This poem fulfills part of that prescription.