Tag Archives: silly poem

Sticking to the Straight and Narrow


Sticking to the Straight and Narrow

(Mother Superior’s Rejoinder)

Please do not lollygag. There’s no time more.
We’re closing the shutters and locking the door.
Wipe those dreams from your brain, for it is our fear
that your thoughts will diverge from the prim and austere.
Make sure your spirit is pearl white and pure
with no sinful streaks to compete with demure.
Deadly sins number from one up to seven,
and striated souls will not make it to heaven.

 

Prompt words today are lollygag, austere, brain, striate and lock.

Ludicrous Lore


Ludicrous Lore

They say the perpetrators all got off scot-free
by posing as indigenous, but how could that be?

They made a ludicrous trio, emerging from their car.
All wrapped-up like packages, they couldn’t wander far.

They’d been here stealing chickens from White Cloud’s poultry farm
 on the reservation, but what could be the harm?

He had so many chickens that he’d never miss the one
or two or three or four or five that they had pinched for fun.

Yet with feathers in their hat bands and blankets held around them,
instead they uttered this excuse when the rangers found them.

They’d done a bit of hunting here on tribal land.
Their leader was Geronimo. He and his loyal band

had shot the deer with arrows, then bound it to their roof
with ropes tied ’round its antlers and then around one hoof.

But driving down the winding road, the driver got too dizzy.
(They said that it was vertigo that put him in a tizzy.)

That’s what caused the accident that spilled them off the road
where they toppled over sideways and lost their struggling load.

The deer ran off into the woods. It seems it wasn’t dead,
but merely stunned when arrows hit it on the head.

(Luckily, the bottle from which they’d all been drinking
had fallen in the water where the car was quickly sinking.)

It’s surprising that the rangers believed their tawdry tale,
and so they didn’t haul these buffoons off to jail.

They simply called a tow truck, which to their consternation
towed the whole bunch down the road to the reservation

where, alas, they found no kin but only laughter met them
as they huddled near the car and phoned for friends to get them.

And after they departed—hungover, sodden, sore,
their whole silly debacle passed into tribal lore.

The time those drunken cowboys with nothing else to do
sneaked onto the tribal lands and tried to pass for Sioux.

Their totaled car they left behind, and here the whole plot thickens.
It now serves as a handy coop for all the tribal chickens.

Today”s prompt words are scot-free, vertigo, indigenous and package. Image by Tyler Mulligan on Unsplash.

Simian Payback


Simian Payback

In more ways than one, my new roommate is simious.
Eating bananas, he’s hardly abstemious.
His arms are so long that his fists scrape the ground
and when I am gone, he monkeys around!

When we go out in public, the people all gape.
It doesn’t take science to declare him an ape.
He swings on the curtains and ruins my decor

by pulling the drapes from their rod to the floor.

If you said he’s an ingrate, you wouldn’t be wrong.
When I go to the dentist and he comes along,
he mimes for a freebie—a checkup and cleaning,
then stands at the mirror, inspecting and preening,

never imagining he’s out of line
as I dole out the cash for his cleaning and mine.
Just one thing might mitigate his crazy acts,
so I ask that you temper your scorn with the facts.

He was raised in the jungle, then put in a cage
and only let out when he reached middle age.
So how could I help but assist in his exit
with no one around to thwart it or hex it?

With the key in the lock, I just gave a twist
and gave his jailbreak a needed assist.
But now I admit I was way less than clever,
for I have acquired the worst roommate ever!

What prompted my action? Was I less than smart
 when I saw his great need, in playing my part?
I felt that I owed him a really big debt,
 for an ape is way more than merely a pet.

If you studied your science and paid good attention,
you could not have missed this pertinent mention:
if there hadn’t been apes, then there wouldn’t be
any of you and there wouldn’t be me!

 

Prompts today are decor, ingrate, mitigate, abstemious and science. Image by Suzanne Schwartz on Unsplash.

False Endings

False Endings

His paranoia is one for the books.

He finds disease wherever he looks.
He anguishes over the slightest small sneeze
and the tiniest bump brings him down to his knees.

When his girl left him, the heartbreak he felt
was myocarditis, and the smallest welt
on his neck or his face is cancer for sure,
so he’s off to  to Mayo Clinic to look for a cure.

His fixation’s macabre and his acts supercilious
every damn time that he feels a bit bilious,
for he knows better than all of his friends
that he’ll soon meet his maker, so he makes amends

for all his ill deeds and his slights and his snits,
seeing the light when he’s down in the pits.
He should have done better and eaten less pie,
and now he’ll pay for it, for he’s going to die.

And when he gets better, you can bet he’ll be sure
that repentance has brought a miraculous cure.
So goes the story, and though it’s not his ending,
you can be sure that a new plague is pending!

(Note: I know I’ve used this photo at least a few (?) times before but it’s just so appropriate to this poem that I can’t help using it again. )

Prompt words today are: myocarditis, macabre, anguish, supercilious and paranoia.

Bar Stool Bozos and the Predictable Come-on Line


Bar Stool Bozos and the Predictable Come-on Line

A new potential conquest is seen falling from her stool
in bodily protection from contact with this fool.
He’s a denizen of single bars, a problem to avoid,
for he’s sure to leave you listless, if not, in fact, annoyed.

How many boring platitudes can one bromide spout?
How may time-worn come-on lines are vying to get out
of lips that move unceasingly, spilling into the night
all the obvious clichés that he’s driven to cite?

Of all the gin joints in the world, why did he enter in
into the one where you came to have a quiet gin?
There should be a law passed that you get to vote on who
gets to wander into bars and saunter up to you.

They should have to pass an I.Q. test, then be sorted and tagged,
from “interesting” to “boring,” and the worst should then be gagged
with a small hole for a soda straw so they could go on drinking
without the ones around them having to know what they’re thinking.

 

Notable come-on lines that are grounds for gagging:

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?”
“We gotta get you outa that wet dress and into a dry martini.”

 

Prompt words today are bromide, falling, denizen and problem.

Note: Bromide in literary usage means a phrase, cliché, or platitude that is trite or unoriginal. It can be intended to soothe or placate; it can suggest insincerity or a lack of originality in the speaker. Bromide can also mean a commonplace or tiresome person, a bore (a person who speaks in bromides).

Eulogy for Artichokes

Eulogy for Artichokes

Behold the bristly artichokes scattered through the field—
delicious little thistles when boiled, buttered, peeled.
With our taste buds wakened and when they’re salted slightly,
it takes a bit of discipline to try to eat politely.

Leaf by leaf, we peel them bare, scraping off their meat.
We like them better with each tiny bit of them we eat.
Then scraping off the “chokey” part, we gobble down the heart.
They told us all along that this would be our favorite part.

Who knew these fat green pinecones would turn out to be so tasty?
Now we wish consumption of them hadn’t been so hasty.
And even after plates are bare and not a morsel lingers,
we’d like to slurp the butter up and lick it from our fingers.

 

Prompts for the day are scattered, field, discipline, bristly and wake. Image by Margaret Jaszowski on Unsplash.

Not in the Cards (An Art Dealer’s Lament)



Not in the Cards
(An Art Dealer’s Lament)

I hear your family reads tea leaves and
can tell the future from a hand.
And it’s been said that being mystic
tends to make one altruistic;
but insufficient evidence
exists in proof of this and hence,
moving forward, I must state
it is a truth I must debate.

Your sister’s painting of the farm
shows some skill, a certain charm,
with animals in states of grace
which normally is not the case.
Stallion, bantam rooster, steer
are not the best of friends, I fear.
And that pig you lately ate
likely knew its horrid fate.

I’ve no need to excoriate
your peaceful kingdom, but of late
realism is the trend
in the paintings that I vend.
It’s clear your sister did not foresee
what my response was going to be,
for her depictions of rural glee
are not the canvasses for me.

Prompt words today are altruistic, farm, canvas, forward, insufficient.

Perpetual Kid


Perpetual Kid

My little brother was hard to tie down,
and after his rambles through country and town,
hangry and dirty, he plopped in a chair,
and enclosed in his pants cuffs and stuck in his hair
were tree leaves and grass stalks and pollen from flowers
that accompanied him home after hours and hours
of wandering aimless inspecting the world
where all of the wonders of life were unfurled.

A junior adventurer, he would not change.
Even grown up, his travels would range
from border to border as yearly he tended
to follow adventures that never have ended.
From China to Africa, from pole to pole,
to see the whole earth has become his goal.
Yet year after year, when he’s through he comes home
where his sister is waiting with cook pot and comb
to fill up his tummy and clean the man up.
For in every lone wolf remains traces of pup!

 

Prompts for today are ramble, hangry, enclosed, tend and junior.

Tactical Failure

Tactical Failure

Cream whipped up frothy as air smothering chocolate cake—
how much more temptation is my rival going to make?
She knows that my true love is fond of skinny hips,
and yet she makes confections she knows will tempt my lips.

Tiny marzipan cherries adorn the cookies that
she knows that I will not resist and that they’ll make me fat.
She wants to exacerbate a rift she knows is there
ever since as a surprise I cut my knee-length hair.

His complaints resounded over the neighborhood.
Everyone heard his distress, so I’m sure she could
as she passed by on the sidewalk, walking very slow
on her way to the juke joint where they both liked to go.

I know she had designs on him for the very next day
she brought three dozen cookies lined up neatly on a tray.
They were for consolation for she knew we were in trouble,
and so she baked me cookies and made the frosting double.

Thus did this vixen hasten my love affair’s demise
by appealing to my weakness and doubling my size.
And thus because her tactics seemed so perfectly to work,
I wound up with a sweet life while she would up with a jerk! 

Prompts today are frothy as air, exacerbate, marzipan, resound and joint.

A Mismatched Love Story

A Mismatched Love Story

He approached their assignation
with a bit of trepidation,
for she was gregarious
while he found talk nefarious.

With an air of resignation,
he forgave her education,
but though she loved a well-penned book,
he found, alas, she couldn’t cook.

She loved dogs, he had a cat,
but he could  get over that
if not the comments that she made
while strolling down the esplanade.

What he found impetuous
was her transforming “Me” to “Us.”
So, alas, they never wed.
He learned to cook himself instead!!

 

Prompts for today are resignation, lean, gregarious, impetuous and comment.