Category Archives: humorous poetry

Hospitality House

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Hospitality House

The housesitter I met was really a dear
but the friend she invited was not, so I hear
from the neighbors awakened by shouting at three
who related the details later to me.
The spare dog left over when they departed
was sweet but destructive. He barked and he farted.
He fell off my roof and he swims in my pool,
so I gated the roof for I am no one’s fool.
Built pool steps so he could exit with ease,
but I’m also allergic so I cough and I sneeze.
Three dogs were too much so I built them a room,
replaced all the chewed up books, beds and broom.
She broke my best dish and her guy was a louse,
so though dogs are welcome here in my house,
humans are on trial. If their actions are needless,
no more invitations go out to the heedless!


To be fair, this poem is an amalgam of several different housesitters, and I’ve had some good ones as well, so don’t be insulted if you were one of the good’uns!!!

The prompt was “hospitality.”

In the Pink: Mismatch

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Mismatch

When a certain fella has had a drink
or two or three, he’s bound to wink
at the little lady dressed in pink.
Her drink’s cubes give a subtle clink
as she decides what she might think.
Is he a stud or just a fink?
His clothes are sort of rinky-dink,
yet her long lashes, swathed in ink,
flutter in a come-on blink.
One fingernail is seen to sink
into her glass. He’s at the brink
of coming over to seal the link.
She checks her breath.  It doesn’t stink.
She reaches down and dons her mink.
But then he stops and seems to shrink.
In this sure deal there seems a chink.
It’s clear that when she deigned to flirt,
she missed the writing on his shirt.
“Be kind to animals,” it said,
“Who’d be caught wearing something dead?”

The prompt word today is “pink.”

Sad News for the Bearded Lady

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Sad News for the Bearded Lady

That your girlish form is rather cute
is not a fact we would dispute;
and though you’re held in good repute,
yet every male’s lack of  pursuit
from callow youth to crusty coot
is a subject that is moot.
The men would be more resolute—
more determined to press their suit—
if only you were less hirsute!

The prompt today was “pursue.”

Reincarnation

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Reincarnation

Two things of value that are fleeting––
life and love both set hearts beating.
Both sadly lost by types of cheating:
one by libido overheating,
the other just by unwise eating.
Once over, though, both bear repeating.

 

 

The prompt today is “temporary.”

Small Fry

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Small Fry

We were small fry in a grown up world,
our dresses starched, our hair tight-curled
on a candlestick by mothers
who scrubbed the faces of small brothers
with fingers they had spit upon
to purge the dirt they’d lit upon.

We had no choice in any of this.
Nor in the neighbor lady’s kiss.
Sour and moldy though she might smell,
we pretended we loved it well.
So went the life in days gone by
so long as you were just small fry.

Now children pose for selfies and diss
the thought of an old lady’s kiss.
They refuse to  run through traces.
Don’t allow spit-scrubbed-at faces.
Skirts go unstarched, hair goes uncurled
now that children rule the world!

Fry is the WP prompt today.

Hide and Seek

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Hide and Seek

Ollie ollie oxen, all in free.
No one has discovered me.
I’m sealed up in my hiding place
getting ready, just in case.
I am not easy to figure out,
but if you do, without a doubt,
I’ll be right here in the middle,
once that you have solved the riddle.
But ollie ollie oxen, all in free.
First you have to come find me.

The NaPoWrMo prompt today was “middle.”

They Do Not Like Me in Mongolia

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I just noticed that they’ve reinstated the stats page that shows readership of blogs country-by-country.  I always enjoyed it and so I was very happy to see it back again.  Then I started to notice little blank spots that indicated countries where no one has ever read my blog, and of course my obsessive side took over. The result is this poem. This happened once years ago with Greenland and eventually they caved in and someone viewed my blog and even commented.  Of course, it was a Filipino who had moved to Greenland, so I am aware of the fact that native Greenlanders still resist my charms, but it took care of that big gap on the map, so I’m happy.  But!  What about all those stans?  Does no one read English there? Is their taste too impeccable to give me even a chance?  Clearly, something needs to be done, so if you know any stans that you can toss into my blog begging cup, please help. Have I been at this too long?  Is it time to stop and find a less public obsession?  Well, we will see.  At any rate, here’s my plea, in rhyme, as usual:

They Do Not Like Me In Mongolia

They do not like me in Mongolia. My blog they are not reading.
The advice I give that they might need, I fear they are not heeding.
The Russians do not snub me, nor do the Turkestanis,
But I see that I have zero stats for Turkmenistanis.
They enjoy me in Samoa and endure me in St. Kitts.
The folks in Montenegro just love me all to bits.
But why won’t they read me in Uzbekistan, I wonder?
I’ve never once insulted them. I’d not make such a blunder.

Tajikistan might like me if they’d give me a chance.
Just ask my faithful readers in Great Britain and in France.
It’s true my knowledge of where Kyrgyzstan lies is most hairy,
and I can only spell it if I use a dictionary;
but still, why won’t they read me? They could have a look and rate me.
And if they noted what my blog is lacking, educate me.
For a year there were no stats that showed us views country by country,
and so I didn’t suffer from the shame and the effrontery

that there were countries missing from my readership
who are surely suffering from lack of leadership
in how to train a Scottie with fifty percent success.
and how best to deal with the chaos and the mess.
How to avoid chocolate, at least one day in ten.
How to post too many pictures of everywhere I’ve been.
I’m expert in so many things that, really, they should know,
so if you know folks in these countries, please be sure to tell them so!

Note: Let’s see if the Eastern block countries will have a little compassion and cave to our pleas.
And since stats are surely a measurement of readership, this post works for the Daily Prompt as well!

Futile Obsession

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Isn’t much chocolate ice cream left, so he may as well polish it off.

 

Futile Obsession

Measure for measure, pound for pound,
on our figures we must expound.
What diet is in fashion today?
What inches lost? What do I weigh?
I must admit, I, too, obsess.
This subject causes much distress.
Once zippers work with ease, it’s true,
the first thing that I tend to do
is buy a quart of chocolate
ice cream and then devour the lot!

Hungry for more ice cream? Look here:
https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/02/02/a-cone-to-die-for/
or here:

Lick for Lick


The DP prompt today is measure.

NaPoWriMo Day 14: Clerihew

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The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to write a Clerihew.  Not my favorite form.  Ranks right down there with the Limerick, but here goes:

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We must pity Kim Kardashian,
whose entire sense of fas-shion
is comprised of just one thing, my dear:
what most accents her derrière.

The Perfect Squelch: Spare Tire

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Remember when the Saturday Evening Post had a feature entitled “The Perfect Squelch” that featured a different perfect comeback every issue?  Well, then, you must be as old as I am.

 

Spare Tire

My blind date worked out most sublimely.
First of all, it was most timely,
for my ex had told me he
would be there with another she.
I waltzed in regally well-armed
with date both handsome, rich and charmed.
His tux immaculate, his dental
work just out-shined by his mental
acumen. He quoted Proust!
So when my ex came up to roost
on a chair next to the mirror where
I was perusing my form and hair
and said we made a lovely pair;
I answered, “Him? He’s just a spare.”
He poked my middle, then tweaked my nose.
“Well then, when your spare tire blows,
they’ll come in handy, all those guys.
Or, you could simply exercise.”

 

 

“Timely” is the prompt word today.