Tag Archives: silly poem

Snow-Bound, For the Sunday Whirl Wordle 693, Feb 8, 2025

8 Replies

 

Snow-Bound

When I saw the prompt words, I knew it would be topical
to talk about a climate that was anything but tropical.
Truly, in the past I have trudged through sludge and snow,
my socks sodden and water-soaked by the fire’s glow.
Despite those still-clear memories, I have some reservations––
a few inner thoughts about those former titillations
felt while swooping down a ski hill, zooming up the rise
of the hill that rose again at the old hill’s demise.
For sure, snow is a despot. It chills and then it freezes,
leaving souvenirs of grippe, sniffles, coughs and sneezes.
But oh what memories we might have, in fact I’m sure we will
of strapping on those sticks just meant for zooming down the hill,
and even though we started at various reckless paces,
somehow, some (and I was one) landed on our faces.

The prompt words for The Sunday Whirl Wordle 693 are: past climate water trudge sludge sodden despite despot rise demise few inner

The Lady Doth Protest Just Right, Methinks, for Wed. Poetry Prompt

4 Replies

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

The Lady Doth Protest Just Right, Methinks

Any idiot can use
Shakespeare as his means to excuse
ardor that is uninvited,
passion that is unrequited.
Just like a half-schooled jerk to quote
a line that he has learned by rote.

“The Lady Doth Protest too much. . . .”
he says as he expands his clutch.
As she then makes 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.

Wednesday Poetry Prompt is “Just like ……”

“The Rock Star’s Lament” for the Sunday Whirl Wordle # 591

9 Replies

 

 

The Rock Star’s Lament

I scan the shadows for lurking fans,
as staff surveys surrounding vans.
We know their tricks, know where they gather,
and what gets them in a lather.

Their heads snap back at full attention
when they hear the very mention
of my name and flashbulbs flash.
They ask for autographs and cash.

They reach to touch or cast me gifts.
They corner me on stairs or lifts.
They feign a faint or hum a song
I’ve just recorded as they walk along

the path they know I daily walk,
hoping for a little talk.
I should feel flattered, except that it’s
exhausting to be loved to bits!!!!

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle today, the prompt words are:
touch hum flash faint gather staff tricks head snap bits cast shadows
Thanks to Sam Moghadam on Unsplash for the image.

Loving (More Than) Spoonfuls

7 Replies

 

 

Loving (More Than) Spoonfuls

It seemed a meager portion for such a pricey place––
three peas, a single escargot. Potatoes? not a trace.
They’d spilled some brown stuff on the plate and dabbed a bit of green.
No wonder other diners all looked so very lean.

Two bites and the first course was gone, the plates all whisked away,
replaced by a sparse salad little more than mounds of hay.
A tiny slivered mass of yellow with seeds sprinkled over,
a spray of oil, some flower petals and a sprig of clover.

I looked my first date in the eye to see what he might think.
As he lifted a forkful, he gave a little wink.
We consumed their tiny lamb chops, complete with ruffled cuff
and scarfed the spoonful of dessert that wasn’t near enough.

He paid the bill, retrieved our coats and walked me to his car.
“I have another treat for you,” he said. “It isn’t far.”
He pulled up to McDonalds and ordered two big macs,
large French fries and two sodas and handed me the sacks.

Afterwards, at Dairy Queen, we sealed this new romance
with Butterfinger Blizzards and then a smoldering glance.
I accepted the next course with lips and arms most eager.
And what he served me next, my dear, was anything but meager.

I do not like posh restaurants with their nouvelle cuisine.
I find their foam and slivers and seeds and piles obscene.
Their single little vegetables hung on tiny racks?
I prefer larger portions and calories served in sacks!

And that is how we bonded, your Uncle Joe and I,
over Colonel Sanders, Taco Bell and carryout Thai.
Others may impress their dates with pricey gourmet suppers,
but my true love seduced with feasts of fast food filler-uppers!

In response to Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, “Spoonful”

“All Lined Up” for SOCS Jan 25, 2025

8 Replies

“All Lined Up”

Lined up at the show
and everywhere we go,
it seems like we spend half our lives in lines that move too slow.

It seems that half the doing
consists of constant queueing––
a penance that we have to pay for eating, riding, viewing.

At cafes, traffic lanes,
post offices and trains,
museums, subways, cafeterias, we make small gains.

Standing more than walking,
muttering and gawking,
our progress is so slow that there’s less moving than there’s taking.

As we go two-by-twoing,
like milkcows softly mooing,
waiting here in lines, we find that we are all-too-often ruing

leaving our house at all
to line up at the mall
I think I’d rather be at home than waiting with y’all!

Here are a few “LIned Up” visuals: (Click on photos to enlarge.)

Santa lit and lined up with friends.
I said line up in order of size!!!
Always one that has to get out of line.
Mini Lineup
All lined up for the tasting.
Lined up for service.
The blessings of the animals were done in both Spanish and English. Frida’s smart mom noticed the long English line and that there was no one in the Spanish line, so we were blessed in Spanish. Frida died a few hours later!
Cowboys line up to herd bobble-heads. Tableau by Edgar.
The cormorants were collecting in a long strung-out line

And, for more “lined up” photos go HERE.

The SOCS prompt is “In Line.”

A Poem of Negation for dVerse Poets, Jan 23, 2025

12 Replies

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!

 

For dVerse Poets, a poem of negation.

“How Much is Enough?” for the Writer’s Digest Wed. Poetry Prompt

9 Replies

How Much is Enough?
(Appraising the Situation)

Enough’s too much when it comes to fish
or any other smelly dish.
Too much for castor oil in spoons
or relatives on honeymoons.
Amoebas?  Any one’s too much,
and a date who wants you to go Dutch
clearly tells you he’s not “it.”
One mosquito, when you’re bit,
is not “enough,” but “one too many.”
when your preference is “not any!”

Kids with colds and snoopy neighbors,
tiresome chores and heavy labors,
bitter pills and jerked-off scabs,
rainy days with no free cabs,
diarrhea, scabies, gout?
Too much! Too much, without a doubt!
“Enough’s enough” is repetitious,
obvious and almost vicious.

So don’t go spouting it at me.
I hate cliches from A to Z.
I won’t have any said to me.
If you use them, you’re dead to me!
“It is sufficient” I will accept.
“I’ll have no more”  is most adept.
But don’t go muttering platitudes
at folks like me with attitudes,
or I promise we’ll be getting rough
enough to prompt, “Enough’s enough!”

 

For Writer’s Digest Poetry prompt: Appraisal  Image by Tonmoy on Unsplash.

An Apple a Day, for The Sunday Whirl Wordle, Jan 19, 2025

17 Replies

An Apple A Day

Witches use them for enchantment.  Kids give them to their teachers.
Trees dangle them from tree limbs to turn passersby to reachers.
Everyone craves apples at one time in their life.
Even Adam reached for one offered by his wife.
Latchkey kids  would miss them as a snack when home from school.
We’d miss them in our stocking toes if absent from our Yule.

It would be a small catastrophe if apples were not able
to snuggle with bananas and peaches on the table
or for folks with bows and arrows to use cucumbers instead
of apples for their targets, balanced on the head
of some trusting  assistant who surely would be pissed
if that smaller target meant that the archer missed!

Wouldn’t it cause chatter? The story would take wings
It would become that ballad that everybody sings
About the gifted archer whose limits were revealed
when he struck an unplanned target which alas, has never healed!
And, alas, no catalyst has ever been suggested
to solve the riddle of just how an apple might be bested!!!

(While posting this poem, I looked for an illustration in my photo file, I finally found the photo of the cored apple I had taken in the past so I used it.  Then I went out to the beach and found this apple lodged under the support of my beach chair. How it came to be there, I have no idea. I needed an apple and nature provided! So I had to post it as well.)

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle  the prompt words are: enchantment latch apples chatter crave catalyst catastrophe wings gift sing miss limit

“Pick”led for SOCS, Jan 17, 2025

3 Replies

“Pick”led

Pack a peck of pickle parts
in a silver jar.
If you feed them to a lover,
he will not stray too far.
Neither pocket book nor hockey puck
will sway his thoughts for long.
You’ll have him humming melodies,
then you’ll pick out your song
repeated in sweet harmony
as he sings along.

For SOCS the prompt is: “pack/peck/pick/“pock/puck.” Use one or use ’em all for bonus points—it’s up to you!  https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/24840312/posts/5529707414

“Unprompted” for The Daily Prompt, Jan 17, 2025

3 Replies

Un-
prompted,
they’d be single-tasked,
In fact, if she had not been asked,
she would never have de-masked,
the wine would not have been de-casked,
his shy love not
so quickly-tasked
in saying  yes to
the question asked.

The Daily Prompt is “Unprompted.”