Category Archives: humorous poetry

Call to Arms

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Things That Cling


Call to Arms

Sweaters do it, slips do it.
Even crackers and clam dips do it.
Let’s do it. I want to cling!!!

Saran wrap was made for it.
Lonely hearts first lust then fade for it.
Just put your arms in a ring.

Hold me and squeeze with them.
I’m the thing that you should seize with them.
Want all the hugs you can bring.

Monkeys in trees do it,
pointer fingers when you sneeze do it.
Let’s do it. Let’s do that thing.

Don’t hesitate o’er it.
Gotta tell you that I adore it.
Let’s do it.  Let’s have a fling!!!

The prompt word today is “cling.”

Off-Kilter

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img_2063Nude Descending the Beach. Wall sculpture and photo, jdb

Off-Kilter

Who cares if your bangs are uneven,
your hem hanging down on the left?
If the picture frame’s a bit off-kilter,
who here would feel most bereft?

Who fusses and dithers whenever
the pizza’s unevenly cleft,
or in the new rug he just purchased,
if the warp is not square with the weft?

When it comes to most talents,
he’s not especially deft.
He has little talent at singing,
and he has neither looks, charm nor heft.

Yet if your smile is crooked,
my dear, I fear you are effed.
for with our friend “Even Steven,”
a mil off is as bad as a theft.

 

The prompt today is “uneven.”

Arrive Clapping

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Version 2

Arrive Clapping

The prima ballerina, the starlet and the queen
might give the appearance that they’ve neither heard nor seen
the hooting and the hollering, the screams and wild applause
emitted by the hoi polloi with very little cause
except for their appearance on the street or on the stage,
where they put themselves on view like exotics in a cage.
Yet imagine their surprise, not to mention consternation
if even a mere glimpse of them did not prompt an ovation!

 

The prompt today is “Ovation.”

 

Poor Timing

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Senora! I’ve found more lights!  It looks promising.  I knew I had many more strands, but these look unfamiliar.

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So I pulled them out of the bag and untangled them, and when I plugged them in?  Out of seven strands, only one worked!  I mined the errant strands for a few replacement bulbs and tossed them into the trash. Planned obsolescence?

Poor Timing

Whoever wrote this prompt today cannot have all the facts
If he thinks merely by wanting to, I can just relax!

Relaxing’s fine for those who have all their “to do’s” done,
but until the last one’s checked off, it’s not yet time for fun.
It’s true that life is not all work. There’s wisdom in each word.
But to rest prematurely is clearly just absurd.

I’ll paint the window frame and then put up Christmas lights.
Then unpack nacimientos–those Mexican delights.
I’ll hide the suitcase of old clothes I’ve been meaning to sell,
then close the guest room closet–best described as hoarding Hell!

Clothes of every era. Clothes of every size.
If you are into “retro,” you’d find it quite the prize.
Then hang up all the pictures and replace all the art
that’s been consigned to the upstairs since my remodel’s start.

We’ve wiped and swept and blown and washed ’til all the dust is gone,
but now must put away the stuff all the dust was on!
Two days from now, houseguests arrive. ‘Til then my life is taxing,
It’s when they finally get here that I’ll have time for relaxing!

 

 

 

The prompt today is “relax.”

Conundrum

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A conundrum is a kind of riddle based upon some fanciful or fantastic resemblance between things quite unlike. It creates a puzzling question, of which the answer is or involves a pun. Solve this riddle and win a prize. (My admiration.) Try not to look at the comments until you’ve guessed the answer yourself. Then, please brag to me about it in the comments section!
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What does not think but has a head?
Has many stories never read?
For each of us, just one, not many.
Contains much heart, yet has not any.
Some say once gone, you can’t go back,
and though one letter it may lack,
with it, if you hit the ball,
you’ll have the finest luck of all.
Add “r” and cover all the bases,
and you’ll bring smiles to many faces.
And when you finally come in free,
you’ll find you have come back to me.

 

Today’s prompt word is “conundrum.”

Swimming in the City Reservoir

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p7180280_2jdbphoto


Swimming in the City Reservoir

You can’t swim waters meant for drinking.
I should have known. What was I thinking?
Yet nonetheless, I found it rude
that my skinny-dipping interlude
was ended on that summer’s day
by a cop who wouldn’t look away.
Instead, he watched as I stepped, dripping,
from water one day he’d be sipping.
Picking up and then unfolding
my clothes, I listened to his scolding.
“Lady,” he was muttering,
all worked up and sputtering,
“You cannot put yourself into
The water meant to put in you!”

I woke up with two of the lines in this poem going through my head.  I had to go find the other lines to go with them.  I was hoping they’d match up with the daily prompt, but it was too far a stretch, so here it is, all alone on its own.

 

The Lady Doth Protest Just Right, Methinks.

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Does this look like a sixty year old leg to you? She posed for it!!!

The Lady Doth Protest Just Right, Methinks

“The Lady Doth Protest too much. . . .”
he says as he expands his clutch.
As she then attempts to guard her
honor from his excess ardor,
if he won’t take her “No!” verbatim,
there is one way to educate him.

For when a lady’s had enough,
it may behoove her to get rough.
That she may return home intact
may require much less tact
and more physicality
to apprise him of reality.

A well-placed knee aimed at his tool
may seem unfairly base and cruel,
yet if mere words will not connect,
this simple action might correct.
If entreaties will not stir him,
extreme sign language might deter him.

The prompt word today was protest.

Wan Yvonne

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Version 2Wan Yvonne

Although in summer she is tannish,
in winter color seems to vanish.
So from November up to March,
her skin is colored white as starch.
In fact, I think it would be valid
to say that she is rather pallid.
But all-in-all, she still looks fine
even without  bikini line!

 

The prompt word today is “vanish.”

Tart Addiction

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Version 2jdbphoto

Tart Addiction

“Zesty, piquant,  rich at heart”
describes his favorite sort of tart.
Tender to the touch and bite,
a bit of crust and formed just right.

He likes one after every meal,
his appetite to seek to seal.
A zesty wench presents the tray
as soon as the meal’s cleared away.

A tart a night may meet his lips,
yet not one goes upon his hips,
for no cream or cherry pie
is what tempts his tongue and eye.

His tarts come without calories:
Veronicas and Valeries.
In two weeks, he has had a dozen—
the serving girl, and then her cousin.

Which tart tonight will he prefer?
Will it be custard, fruit, or her?
The sort he likes is just the latter,
his tarts cannot fit on a platter.

The prompt word today was “Tart.”

Tete a Tete

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dscn1069

Tete a Tete

She seems to have made a career
out of practicing “sincere.”
Her trembling lip, her balanced tear
as she murmurs, “Oh, my dear,
I’m sorry, I know how you feel,”
work better when they’re meant for real.

In fact, she only lends an ear
because of what she hopes to hear––
shocking, scandalous or queer.
And oh, my dear, she’ll persevere.
Huddled over a drink or meal,
she can hardly hide her zeal

as she brings up your greatest fear––
your erring child or spreading rear,
the lover who’s been gone a year,
that bank loan that’s now in arrear.
She only asks because, you know—
just because she loves you so!

In patience, she is without peer.
She’ll face you, rapt, her face thrust near,
and ply you with another beer.
She is your confidant—your seer.
And though she says her lips are sealed,
her oath will too soon be repealed.

Her parting kiss, it would appear,
is offered to the ionosphere.
It makes no contact.  Does not adhere.
It seems like she’s shifted a gear.
The next time she dines out, it’s true,
she’ll be dining out on you!!

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The prompt word was “sincere.”

sincere.