Category Archives: Humorous Rhymes

Rating Dating

judy12.a

Rating Dating

Some men seem to run their dating game like it’s a race,
whereas for their date this doesn’t seem to be the case.
If so, I must advise the guy to try to slow his pace
lest the lady feel that she must slow him down with mace!

She may be superficial, while he is way too smart;
or he may adore motocross while she’s a fan of art.
She’s olfactorily sensitive and he just let a fart.
Such opposites do not attract in the affairs of heart.

In chick flicks when a date goes wrong, it is always funny.
She runs into a former love or he runs out of money.
But no matter how things go, the endings are all sunny.
By the credits, she is “dear” and he is always “honey.”

In real life, when it comes to love, I prefer to view it.
Much easier to say you want it than to really do it.
The problem is if either of you chooses to eschew it,
then the other one of you must admit that they blew it.

So for the couplet, I’ll admit that yes, true love is groovy;
but when it comes to dating, I’ll just settle for the movie!!!

 

The Prompt––Third Rate Romance: Tell us about your funniest romantic relationship disaster. https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/third-rate-romance/

After Vespers

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After Vespers

I arrived home with much ado,
removed a small stone from my shoe,
took off my girdle, straightened my hat,
smoothed my gloves and kissed the cat!
I believe in proper things––
all the joys good breeding brings.
I do not spit, smoke weed or curse.
I carry breath mints in my purse.

I go to church. I tithe and pray.
I brush my teeth three times a day.
But when I went to watch TV,
I found a strange sight greeting me,
for there sitting upon my couch,
next to my little cat treat pouch,
were two small beings––a her and he––
the lady perched on the fellow’s knee.

They both looked up with cool aplomb
as though they hadn’t dropped a bomb
appearing with no invitation.
What’s more, to my great perturbation,
balanced on the lady’s knee
was the chocolate cake I’d meant for me!!!

She took a bite and gave him one,
then turned to me when she was done,
addressing me, though we’d not met.
(I mean, just how rude could one get?)
And what she said in a haughty tone,
perched upon her human throne?
“I’m afraid this cake is rather dry.
I wonder, have you any pie?”

I’ll tell you no more of this story,
for after that, things just got gory.
My opening words would seem most pale
compared to the ending of my tale.
Suffice it then for me to say
the uninvited didn’t stay.
Afterwards, my gloves came off.
I cleared my throat and gave a cough.

I scraped the cake crumbs in the sink,
mixed myself a little drink,
closed the drapes, unplugged the phone
and stretched out on my couch––alone.
As I settled down to Downton Abbey,
I was feeling way less crabby.
Real glad I hid the pie, y’all,
because I sat and ate it all!!!

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The Prompt: Unexpected Guests. You walk into your home to find a couple you don’t know sitting in your living room, eating a slice of cake. Tell us what happens next.  What a hilarious prompt!  I loved writing this one.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/unexpected-guests/

Stuffed

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Stuffed

I lose my glasses, cuss and mutter,
but my worst quality is clutter!
I have a drawer just filled with socks
I never wear.  And pans and woks,
old dishes, fondue pots  and skewers,
a fourteen-year-old bottle of Dewars
not one friend drinks, much less myself,
sitting there upon my shelf.
Everything I buy just clings.
I  can’t seem to part with things!

In boxes on my garage shelves
are all my former castoff selves.
The slides from art shows long ago?
I dread sorting them and so
they remain in plastic crates,
labeled with their types and dates.
Old letters, class notes, tax returns?
I’ve heard that paper easily burns
as well as shreds, yet still I wait.
Years pass as I equivocate.
They might be needed someday so,
get rid of them? I just say no!

My studio is filled with things.
My jewelry drawers with bracelets, rings.
My closets stuffed with different sizes,
shelves stacked with future gifts and prizes.
Snow boots although it never snows
anywhere this woman goes.
A safari hat with veil
hangs upon a closet nail
along with wet suit, snorkel, fins,
and other useless hoarding sins.

My kitchen is a spice museum.
So many spices, I can’t see um.
Fenugreek and capsicum
that I was given by my mum
so long ago they have no taste,
green olives and tomato paste
well past the date they should be used.
Yes, my house should be perused
and sorted out, I must admit,
instead, I sit and write of it!
I know some folks clear out their closets,
but me? I only make deposits!

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The Prompt:  Flawed––What is your worst quality? https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/flawed/

Keeping Abreast

The Prompt: You’ve been given the power to change one rule of nature.  What would it be?

This is one of those prompts that cries out not to be taken seriously, mainly because every time we’ve tried to interfere with nature, things have turned out badly. With that in mind, I will resort to farce and hyperbole!

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Keeping Abreast

If I were made the ruler of
this universe I rue and love,
the one thing I would not let “be”
is the force of gravity
in respect to just one issue.
Namely––my mammary tissue!

For, though you may feel dubious,
each year, I grow more boobious!
I do not like them hanging there
where once they used to thrust the air.
Where once each strained against its cup,
It seems like now  they’ve given up.

Listless and flat, downward they droop.
Sad Sack replaces Betty Boop.
They have no personality.
They’ve lost elasticality!
The result is truly tragic,
so this is why I need some magic.

Please, gods of nature, give a cure.
There must be some way to inure
my breasts from force of gravity.
Now that I rule, hear my plea!
Tell gravity that it is best
to loose its hold upon each breast

so they are perky once again,
thrusting out below my chin
instead of hanging in two vees
somewhere down around my knees!
Restore my pride. Dispel my frown.
I want them hanging out, not down!

Go here: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/12/11/flopped-selfie/ to read a poem that is an answer to the poem above–as well as the response below! (I promise, however, to end this subject here and now. No more!)

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/if-i-ruled-the-world/

Built-in Guilt-in

Decaying Farmhouse in Missouri Soybean Field

hyperbolic photo by okcforgottenman–thanks!!!

Built-in Guilt-in

With leaking roof and floors atilt,
She hates the house her husband built.
Yet her affection rose above it.
Her reaction? Dear, I love it!!!

Now every time she goes to doze,
doors creak open and then close.
Trips to the bathroom make her seasick–
the perfect place for her to be sick!

She’d like to say, if she were able,
she fears the wall joists are unstable;
for every time she leans on them,
the pictures tilt and lights all dim.

In autumn, shingles fall like leaves.
She hates how the foundation heaves.
As walls close in and ceilings shift,
She rues her husband’s every thrift.

Their marriage is a thing of bliss.
She still swoons to his deep kiss.
He is a lover kind and true.
He rubs her feet when she is blue.

She loves him still with all her heart.
They’ll be together ‘til death do part.
She only hopes that his construction
is not the means to their destruction!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/the-guilt-that-haunts-me/

Two Times Three

        Two Times Three

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “An Odd Trio.” Today, you can write about whatever you what — but your post must include, in whatever role you see fit, a cat, a bowl of soup, and a beach towel.

Once again, been there, done that!!!  Go HERE to see my response.

“Absence of Malice” Judy’s Poem and Reissue of the Challenge!!!

                     “Absence of Malice”  Judy’s Poem and Reissue of the Challenge!!!

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You never told me you wanted the head of your bathtub rubber duckie attached, Mom!

Okay—the first person to answer my challenge was Marilyn Armstrong. She commented on her own Scottie named Bonnie, which made it a bit hard to construct a poem using as my first words the first words of her eight sentence essay. I actually used each of her first words twice, to enable me to construct a 16 line poem. Here it is:

I’m the owner of a Scottie.
I watch him tear around––
bonnie little terrorizer.
Terriers get around!

Which apparel did he chew up
that I wear every day?
It probably was not his fault,
most Scottie folks would say.

I’m guilty of the dumbest act.
I should have known the pup.
Bonnie little masticators,
terriers like to sup.

Which are the things they like to chew?
That is hardly recent news.
It seems that what their jaws like best
most certainly are shoes!

I’m still waiting for more entries for the challenge. Check out the quote and explanation of the prompt posted on my earlier posting HERE and post a link to your entry in my comments! If I find a juicy one on a topic other than dogs, I’ll write another poem as well, using the first word of each of your sentences  as the first word in one of my lines., in order. Your entry can be a story, poem or essay.

 Here is Marilyn’s comment I used to spark my poem:

“I’m glad sweet, retiring, shy little Morrie seems to be growing out of his “my jaws, the world” phase. I had one hound who never grew out of it and we lived in a state of siege for 12 years. Bonnie settled down around 2 years old, which is when most dogs seem\ to release those final gas bubbles from their funny little brains. Terriers mature slowly and stay puppy-like longer than most breeds. Which makes them terrorists — but lovable; you may WANT to strangle them, but usually wind up laughing.
That quote has worked for me in so many ways. It reminds me (often) that acts of true malice are relatively rare. Most stuff is done by accident or ignorance or just a flash of “duh” … to which, sadly, we all are prone.”

(Sorry, Marilyn. I missed this last line because it was on a separate page of my document. Since I’d already written the poem and since it would have added an extra line to the second and fourth stanzas, I didn’t go back and add it. Here is Marilyn’s last overlooked line: “But not Morrie! He’s always smart!”

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Trick Retreat

At five o’clock they climb the hill and they ring my bell.
When I do not answer, the mob begins to swell.
Their cries of “We want Halloween!!” resound like cries from Hell.

My dogs begin a clamoring—and barks turn into growls.
The children’s only English words digress to angry howls
that prompt a shiver down my back––a loosening in my bowels.

I give in and seize the bowl and open up the gate.
The children swell around me, angry I’m so late.
They dig their hands into the bowl—in no mood for debate.

When I scream out “Take only one!” they begin to mind,
and they become more orderly and line up one behind
another as a snake of children starts to move and wind

from the bottom of the hill up to my front door
but when it seems I’ve served them all, there are always more:
one hundred, then two hundred, three hundred and then four!

And when I think the line perhaps is starting to get thin,
I finally discover that they got in line again
and came back to my doorway––where they’ve already been!

My candy store’s diminished, in fact there is no more
and they grow disorderly, waiting at my door
as I distribute all my fruit—right down to the last core.

Then I start giving canned goods—beans and corn and peas.
By the time my larder’s empty, they have brought me to my knees.
“Please, go home,” I beg them. “Leave my house now, please!”

But they have no pity. They are carrying off my plants.
I go into my closets and bring out my shirts and pants.
Still I hear requests for more—their demands and their rants.

I give them all my easy chairs, my pictures and my rugs,
my glasses and my dishes, my pots and pans and mugs.
From my refrigerator, I return with bowls and jugs.

Until my house is empty, they refuse to go away;
but finally I have no more, and I begin to pray
that they will soon release me from this relentless fray.

And then I see a ray of hope as across the street
my neighbor opens up his door and children’s footsteps beat
in a new direction—as they mount a swift retreat.

I hear my neighbor’s screams and cries as they shout for more.
Though I should go and help him, I’m yellow to the core
as I take the coward’s action and swiftly slam my door!!!

Mexico is lovely. It’s warm and lush and green.
I love its smiling people. I love its rich cuisine.
But there’s one drawback to living here that I have clearly seen.

I RUE THE DAY THAT MEXICO DISCOVERED HALLOWEEN!!!!!

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More Unruly Punctuation

                                                                        More Unruly Punctuation

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “By the Dots.” We all have strange relationships with punctuation — do you overuse exclamation marks? Do you avoid semicolons like the plague? What type of punctuation could you never live without? Tell us all about your punctuation quirks!

Since I’ve answered this exact prompt before,  please go HERE to read my poem on this subject and remember that the punctuation marks that are not meant to be merely functional (the ones in blue and boldface) are meant to be pronounced in full.

Why I Do Not Ham on Rye it

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Why I do not Ham on Rye it

You cannot borrow steal or buy it.
Sumo wrestlers never try it.
Female starlets do or die it.
Vitamin makers fortify it
You never cookie, cake or pie it.
Pizza parlors terrify it.
Now and then I me oh my it,
but I hope I don’t defy it,
for if I ever hope to guy it,
I simply must stay on my diet!

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The Prompt: What is  one thing at which you are the most afraid of failing?
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/must-not-fail/