Category Archives: humorous poetry

“Girls” Night Out

14 Replies

Click on any photo to enlarge and view all as gallery.

“Girls” Night Out

Mary Tyler Moore, Working Girl and I Love Lucy—
 film nights with the ladies are usually juicy.
Although we’re staying in, all that’s tucked in must be outed.
All those mumbled gripes now brought to light and shouted.
Pulling out the bobby pins to let the chignons flow.
Kicking off the heels to wiggle arch and toe.
Slipping off the panty hose, loosening top buttons.
Gorging on potato chips and dip like teenage gluttons.
Drinking margaritas, martinis and mojitos.
Pepperidge Farm and popcorn, ice cream and Doritos.
When old dames get together, pull out all the stops.
Banish all the dust cloths. Lock up all the mops.
Rip up all the lists and turn them to confetti.
Break out the lasagne. Break out the spaghetti.
Fill the crystal bowls with M&Ms and truffles.
Ban antimacassars, doilies, tucks and ruffles.
Bring out your old 8-tracks and your 45’s.
Forget that you are mothers, grandmothers and wives.
Better shake your booties while they still can shake.
Better come alive while still able to wake.
Time enough for normalcy when you’re ninety-six.
When you’re only seventy, you’ve still got some kicks.
Leave your spouses home staring at their football games—
vicariously living while you’re out being dames.
It’s your secret life, for no one needs to know
everything you do and everywhere you go.
Let the whole world think you’re in there playing bridge
while you are jitterbugging and emptying out the fridge.
It’s more fun when it’s secret, so promise not to tell
when old girls get together and raise a little Hell!!!!

The prompt today was juicy.

Diddly Squat

14 Replies

img_8782 

Diddly Squat

Every language must be fraught
with words most definitely not
the loveliest to human ear.
They are the ones we hate to hear,
like crotch and bunion, scab and clot,
chunk or fetid, honk and rot;
but in my mind, the worst we’ve got—
the very ugliest—is “squat.”
The one who coined this word must be
the one gone down in history
for inventing the least lovely word
since phlegm or curdle, moist or turd.
Yet, how more perfect could one word be
to describe us when we bend each knee
and sit with heels pressed to our rear
close to the ground, perhaps, to peer
at insects crawling through the grass
while lucky others peruse our ass?
And so, despite its ugly sound,
no better word could ever be found
to name that pose wherein we bend
to expose our worst side to the wind.

The prompt word today was squat.

Unfairly Defined

16 Replies

41ddhgxypyl-_sx354_bo1204203200_
Image downloaded from Amazon

Unfairly Defined

Not really cold and not too hot—
“lukewarm” describes what it is not.
It isn’t fair it’s named for Luke.
In fact, it’s really just a fluke.
It’s really not Luke’s fault at all.
I’ll give the facts. You make the call.

Though he tried to love that girl right well,
 the truth is, that he never fell
as hard as she did. She was nice,
and yet they only dated twice.
She was in love, but he was not.
It wasn’t that they fussed or fought.

It’s just that he preferred another,
not this girl liked by his mother.
So, though the match had been decided
by their folks, it was one-sided.
He, alas, just could not fashion
anything approaching passion.

She pined as he moved on to marry
a girl who came from Tucumcari
while she remained a single maid,
much-admired, but never laid.
And Luke, who did not choose to tarry,
wound up in the dictionary.

He still defines that boring norm
not cold, not hot, but only warm.
The bit of bad luck that he had?
Though he was neither rogue nor cad,
he chose a woman who was “not” her,
and she was Noah Webster’s daughter!

The prompt was lukewarm. 

Read the Signs

3 Replies

img_0022

Read the Signs

Are you possibly aware
from your vantage over there,
so well-shod and so well-clad,
that you are overdressed a tad?
In fact, it would be hard for you
no matter what garment or shoe
you might have chosen to wear instead.
I fear that you have been misled.
You’d still be overdressed, you see—
you’re in a nudist colony!

The prompt today was “aware.”

Relax Redux: Empty Nest

21 Replies

Tonight, one of my favorite blogs, written by Carol and titled “Relax,” published a poem that begins with the lines:

Tonight, I am missing
all half-grown kissing
–oh! I meant kittens—
an orange one, Mittens,

(HERE is a link to her entire poem.)

I, however, loved the original typo (or contrived typo) and challenged her to make a poem starting from it and remaining with that idea.  I promised to do so myself, and have, hoping she won’t mind my stealing my version of her first line.  Here is mine:

Empty Nest

I’ve been missing
that half-grown kissing
that lasts a minute
with chocolate in it.
Runny noses.
Heads of roses
picked off stems
like rarest gems
presented in
a tuna tin.
Priceless treasure
for my pleasure.

My life lacks
these loving smacks––
even a quickie,
albeit sticky
with peanut butter.
A parting stutter,
and then they’re gone
and off upon
adventures new,
away from you,
taking their kisses
to other misses.

I’m awaiting hers.  Are you up to meeting the challenge, Carol?

Boob Tube?

13 Replies

DSC07209 (1)
Boob Tube?

If only brassieres were pneumatic,
uplift would be automatic.
Once more, we’d sport that perfect coning
without benefit of toning,
surgery or silicone.
Our ladies would just stand alone,
proudly there in front of us
with less strapping and less fuss.
When they invented inner tubes,
why did they neglect ones for boobs?

The prompt word today was automatic.

Oversight

4 Replies

PA260088 - Version 2
Oversight

There’s more in life that you can view
than what folks say and what folks do.
Deeper meanings hang in the air.
You can always see them, they’re always there.
More to be learned from what’s not said—
more to the meal than what we’re fed.

I note expressions, nuance, glances.
I’m an early spotter of romances
that others seem oblivious to.
A quick expression can be a clue,
a tone of voice a giveaway
of what a person means to say.

Those who see farther can be a bore.
Always looking and seeing more
than what folks would have them see,
noting life’s disparity
between what is and seems to be—
said behind backs or vis–á-vis.

So though you haven’t told me that
you find me boring, crass or fat,
I know as clearly as though you had.
And when I seem withdrawn or sad,
it’s not that I have ESP
that tells me what you think of me.

It’s simply that I pay attention
to more than what you choose to mention.
Though these extra perceptions take their toll,
they’re nothing that I can control.
I can’t shake them, try as I might.
It seems that I have “oversight.”

 

The prompt word today was “oversight.”

Gourmand

1 Reply

dscf8268

Gourmand

His smile an invitation I could plainly see,
I very promptly answered his implied R.S.V.P.
But later on I wished that I had just let it be,
for that smile was for another girl the minute he had me!

An open invitation is his modus operandi.
Every social gathering provides him more eye candy.
Once seen, a tiny little lick is what he seems to savor.
He likes it when each taste he takes presents a different flavor.

Every toothsome girl he sees stirs his appetite,
and even though his smile suggests he’d like a little bite,
no matter what the tasty dish is that you choose to serve,
you’ll never be a main course, but merely an hors d’oeuvre.

The prompt today was “invitation.”

.”

Exquisite Creatures

7 Replies

pa060073

Exquisite Creatures

Another exquisite creature lies yonder on the hill—
just beyond the pampa horse, okapi and spoonbill.
All the lovely creatures we are here to see
imprisoned behind barriers, just for you and me.

Polar bear goes pacing, as does lioness.
What they might be thinking, I can only guess.
Now that they know their freedom mainly by its edges,
one dreams of the tundra, the other icy ledges.

All day as they view us, in their eyes are gleams
revealing  what they’re thinking—a pathway to their dreams.
Stalking their next meal— the waiting and the hush,
before the final pounce, that old familiar rush.

Ferrets with their kits and camels with their calves
are showing us their natures by quarters or by halves.
We see the way they eat and spy on how they pee,
but we’ll never see the whole of them in captivity.

Nature that is cageless has more of a savor.
Both the viewed and viewer spontaneous and braver.
With no bars between them, they’re part of the same world
as they retrieve their wildness from corners where it’s curled.

Hear a might roar, a hiss, a screech a chatter—
all exotic sounds that tell us what’s the matter.
If we are approaching, wandering too near,
they are simply telling us they don’t want us here.

Of all of the animals, they’ve heard we are the worst—
the primary reason our world’s about to burst.
Viewing all our actions, now and through the ages,
if they had their druthers, they’d put us all in cages.

The prompt word today is “exquisite.”

Incapable

5 Replies

dsc00457j
jdbphoto

Incapable

Capable? I fear I’m not
for usually, I’m too hot.
Sleeves I do for vanity,
but capes weren’t made for folks like me.
If the capes are long and fem,
I get my heels caught in the hem,
and if they’re roomy and too wide,
I find that I get lost inside.
I get my purse strap tangled in,
the neck tangled around my chin.
The bat wings flap and catch the breeze.
The wool ones make me gasp and sneeze.
So, if you’re a swaddler, leave me be.
I like my torso cover-free.

The prompt word today was capable.