Tag Archives: silly poem

Intervening with the Solstice

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Intervening with the Solstice

They’re intervening with the solstice. We’re requiring more light,
though adding one more month to summer simply isn’t right.
They’ll put a manmade light up in the sky next to the sun.
We’ll have summer the whole year through once mankind is done!
Next, they’ll augment infinity and make the rain much wetter.
There’s nothing like a mortal man for making nature better!

For another poem on the subject of the solstice, go HERE.

The prompts are solstice, intervene and infinity.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/21/rdp-friday-solstice/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/21/fowc-with-fandango-intervene/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/21/infinity/

Your Dishwasher’s Advocate

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Your Dishwasher’s Advocate

Cycle after cycle, they clean our dirty dishes
yet do we ever think about acceding to their wishes?
Maybe they, too, have appetites, and I sometimes think perhaps,
they were patiently waiting for their favorite scraps.

A bit of rich spaghetti sauce, a dollop of our mousse,
a little bit of buttered bread or rib eye’s savory juice
might have fulfilled their evening’s dreams or might have made their day,
But instead we diligently swab it all away!

No rich reward for faithful servants waiting for our scraps.
No satifsfactory searches for tidbits left in gaps.
And so they go another day, our faithful old machines,
without a taste of hamburgers or beets or nectarines.

They cannot live on water alone. Those soapsuds have no savor.
And so the next time when you scrape, please do your pal a favor.
Leave a few scraps on the plate. Don’t clean too well those tines.
Think about your faithful friend who oh too rarely dines.

Leave your dishwasher a tip—something on which to sup.
Leave wine dregs in your goblets and leave them facing up!
Leave rice grains in your rice bowl. Do not clear that sauce away.
Being less efficient, will make your Maytag’s day.

If your wife makes a kerfuffle over the job you do,
remind her it is you that’s here scraping off the goo.
Take her by the shoulders and deflect her view.
Your dishwasher is grateful for it every time you do!

 

https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/16/fowc-with-fandango-cycle/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/16/wish/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/16/your-daily-word-prompt-kerfuffle-December-16-2018/

Home Plate: Sweet Victory

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It’s hot summer in the teeming city with tenements piled room-on-room. With narrow hallways and nonexistent grassy plots, where’s  a kid to play?

 

Home Plate: Sweet Victory

They’re playing baseball in the street again, forcing cars to wait,
restless in the intersection, ’til they see the fate
of the ball the bat just cracked, rising in the air
to land in someone’s flower pot or on the tenement stair.
They make such a brouhaha, loud boys and louder cars,
that Grandma rises up a bit to clutch at window bars.

It is a large commitment, for she can’t sit down again
without some help, but still she is attracted by the din.
Are car horns blaring  for the inconvenience or a homer?
The batter’s mad dash down the street and back a slight misnomer,
for first base is the red car and second base the yellow.
Cross the street and third base is the stair stoop of the fellow

who exits from his doorway, briefcase in his hand,
who seems in a great hurry and yet chooses to stand
to see the runner execute his skipping zigzag run
homeward toward the batter’s plate that holds a sticky bun.
Horns blaring as he executes his mission, ends his flight,
bends over, grabs his trophy, and takes his winning bite!

 

Prompt words today were play, intersection, commitment and brouhaha.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/15/rdp-saturday-play/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/15/fowc-with-fandango-intersection/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/15/commitment/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/15/your-daily-word-prompt-brouhaha-December-15-2018/

Born Lazy

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Born Lazy

You can have your tennis, your jogging, golf and hiking.
I’d rather spend time coasting while other souls are biking.

You’ll never find my name in the record books of Guinness,
for I don’t excel at basketball or badminton or tennis.

Somehow, nature slighted me when it came to “gameness.”
When asked to participate, I simulate my lameness.

I guess I was born lazy. I simply love my bed.
I pretend not to hear it when the cat yowls to be fed.

When duty calls, I plug my ears and happily roll over.
I find it is more comfortable here in beds of clover.

Seduction

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The Seduction

He knew to win her favor he must wine her and then feed her.
And finally to the forest he felt compelled to lead her.
He kissed her ‘neath the elm tree and he kissed her ‘neath the cedar.
And, need I tell the rest to you, my very dearest reader?
Did he woo her, did he charm her, did he  flatter her and need her?
Did he lay her down in clover? Did he dandelion weed her?
And when she voiced objections, did he circumvent, indeed, her
girlish hesitations? Did he in fact fail to heed her?
And was it inevitable, that he then should seed her?

Cedar is the prompt for today.

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/03/your-daily-word-prompt-cedar-December-3-2018/

Dropping Out

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Dropping Out

I’m tired of enlightenment, bored with my muse.
I give up on all topics that spur and enthuse.
I think I’ll be lazy for the rest of my life,
avoiding all effort and dodging all strife.

For what do I worry and ponder and seethe?
What care I for clean water and air we can breathe?
Let fools be our guides. Let them rule us all.
Let other fools follow them until they fall.

Let scientists fuss over theory and fractal.
I’ll deal with endeavors more sensual and tactile.
I’ll plot games of solitaire, fiddle with flowers,
play video games for hours and hours.

I’ll torment the cat and worry the dog,
lie in the hammock, my mind in a fog.
Let other folks solve all the world’s ills.
I’ll keep myself busy with vodka and pills.

Use avoidance to overcome all of my worries.
Let torpor eradicate all of my hurries.
I’m overlooking the problems in which the world’s mired.
If I need an excuse, It’s that I am retired.

The prompts today are seethe, guide, tactile and muse. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/10/rdp-saturday-seethe/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/10/fowc-with-fandango-guide/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/10/tactile/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/11/04/daily-addictions-2018-week-44/muse

A Diet Most Fowl

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A Diet Most Fowl

My Dad’s one foolproof diet that he used to quote to us
entailed no calorie counting, no planning, mess or fuss.
He said, “It’s very simple. Put just one thing in your mouth.
Merely eat the north end of a duck that’s flying south!

 

The Daily Inkling prompt today was to create a fail proof diet.
https://normalhappenings.com/2018/11/04/results-guaranteed-daily-inkling/

Advice on Answering the Doorbell of that Translucent Front Door.

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Advice on Answering the Doorbell of that Translucent Front Door

Although  you sorta see through it,
you can’t see who they be through it.
So if you fear it is that bore, it
might be better to ignore it.

The prompt is to write a 29 word poem on the subject of translucent.
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/11/03/weekend-writing-prompt-79-translucent/

The Letter “C”

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The Letter “C”

Here’s to the letter “C” that marks what is in the middle.
Somewhere between “A” and “F,” it has been known to fiddle.
While “A” studies most diligently, “C” is bound to shirk.
It has a certain phobia regarding too much work.
It’s head and shoulders above “F” and far better than “D.”
Nobody ever flunked a course by maintaining a “C.”

And yet it calls no sound its own. It’s either “K” or “S.”
At birthday time,  we’re given kake and winning brings suksess.
We’re stopped dead in our trases. When we’re kissed, it’s a karess.
Why “C” has no sound of its own, not one of us kan guess.
When the sirkus komes to town, it’s happened onse or twise
that the krokodiles eskape. It isn’t very nise.

Townfolks run and skurry—skared as they kan be,
for katastrophes kan happen when krokodiles run free.
It isn’t too konvenient, as you kan klearly see
to be a kurly letter the likes of letter “C”
that’s firmly in the middle, with no sound of its own.
Does “C” dream of being “S” when it’s fully grown?

The Letter “S.”

For “The Letter C” prompt by Daily Inkling.

Witches’ Brew (96 words)

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Witches’ Brew

Stir the cauldron, stir it well
until its contents start to jell.
Don’t have a look or you will shiver
over gnat eyes, bat wings, liver.

A witch’s curse and zombie’s howl
season this concoction foul.
Want to have a little sip?
Bring close your tongue. Thrust out your lip

toward this putrid, icky treasure.
Here’s a spoonful for your pleasure.
Now that you’ve had a little dose,
don’t look so startled and morose.

Such behavior’s never seen
in witches’ houses on Halloween.
Put away your groans and pouts.
It’s not as bad as brussels sprouts!!!

https://susannahill.com/2018/10/27/the-8th-annual-halloweensie-contest-aahhhrrrooooooooo/