Me tooth is all crooked,
As is m’eh blasted hook nose,
The bloody thing whistles,
Everytimes that I’se blows.
Gravity’s a beeotch,
Pullin’ down on m’eh rolls,
An’ when I’se wearin’ shorts ,
Me nuts hangs to me toes.
Girls swipe left at m’eh pix,
That’s howse it goes,
On me next dating profile,
I’ll superimpose.
there she stood
unkempt and crude
her family lines
a sickly brood
her sweats all stained
with God knows what
brown and smudged
across her butt
but in the light
of twilight time
hot damn, my Lord
she looked so fine
through the years
and many a stain
she stole my heart
my love she’d Gain
Sadie rushed out to the barn,
A whip with her cowgirl charm,
The animals arranged,
An ending deranged,
Now Sadie’s done bought the farm.
Fat Larry began a fad diet,
With an eye for sweet apple pies,
He followed the plan to the letter,
And promptly when up one size.
Undeterred he continued to eat,
For the losses he’d soon realize,
Until a peek in the mirror did show,
The pie had gone straight to his thighs.
Driving down the road 🛣️
Minding my own business
When buddy flips me the bird 🦜
I know free verse don’t rhyme
But this guy’s a real turd 💩
With my ego now bruised
My brain explodes 💥
And my senses go blind
What’s this clown’s 🤡
Problem anyway
Step on the gas ⛽
I weave through the rush
My window recessed 🪟
As I pull up to your ride
I start waving my fist 👊
Rhyme a curse at the lady inside
Don’t call the cops 🚓
That’s not meant for you
I got the wrong car 🚗
Mistaken identity I swear
I’m totally raging 🤬
As I punch it again
Blast past a school bus 🚌
This rhyming is insane
I catch a glimpse 👀
As you make the left
I race through the turn 🏎️
And ‘round the bend
Caught in my web 🕸
️The thrill of pursuit gone
What do I do now ❓
I take a deep breath and
In a moment of zen ☯️
My road rage does pass
I rhyme one last time ⌚
And realise, I’m the real ass!
My head’s been set on fire,
My weary bones do ache,
I’m sizzlin’ hot to touch,
Still, I shiver and I shake.
With a scratch in my throat and,
A faucet for a nose,
That gets redder and more raw,
Every time it has to blows.
I’ve got blotches on my torso,
Itchy, scratchy and the such,
My palatine uvula is so swollen,
It’s becoming a little much.
I’ve burst blood vessels in my eye,
From coughing up a lung,
Don’t get me started on the back end,
Just get me a bloody bung.
My insides twisted up in knots,
Cramps eating at my gut,
Pressure building deep within,
Gases exploding from my butt.
I kneel before the Ivory throne,
Paying respect to the porcelain King,
I’ve eaten nothing in three days,
Still, I’m going to fill the thing.
I bolt awake at 2 a.m.,
Sweat streaming from my pores,
I’ve been lying here so bloody long,
I’m developing bedsores.
Not Tylenol or Advil or a combo of the two
Can soothe this pounding head,
Don’t know how much more I can take
I think I’d be better off dead!
This poem was inspired by Joanne Fisher and her “What’s In Your Pocket?” prompt for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest. The poem was to be written as a Tanka and you can find my official entry here. I also wrote this little ditty that strayed way too far from the rules and really should never have seen the light of day. I admit, I thought about burying it forever for just the briefest of moments and then said bleep it and published it anyway. Sorry in advance…
I know it’s here someplace,
Where, oh where did it go,
‘neath lint covered bubble gum
That’s long lost its blow.
That feels like a skittle,
Or a raisin left to grow,
If entered in the science fair,
It’s guaranteed best in show.
Bottomless it seems,
My T in up to the sleeve,
Dear Lord, a used rubber,
Sans baby batter, I beg, please.
Is that the telly remote,
I’d wondered where it had gone,
Of course, the dang replacement,
Just arrived from Amazon.
Down deeper I dig,
how much further, O-M-Gee,
a fusty festering tissue,
may hold a cure for SARS CoVee.
An apple that’s sprouted,
And the hamster I’d set free,
One thing’s for damned certain,
There’s no sign of my key.
Hand in my pocket,
Looking to steal my spare change.
I’ve left a surprise,
Cold, moist, just a hint of slime.
“A used handkerchief, you swine!”
fiddle, faddle
piddle, paddle
a bit of this, a touch of that
inside, outside, inside out
here and there and all about
this way, that way, sideways too
weeding, whacking
a click and… snap
time to take a morning nap
front door, back door
up on the roof
crank call from a telephone booth
up and down and all around
highs and lows and lost and found
hot and cold
and polished gold
through the garden
up to the hedge
wave and smile and chat awhile
chirp, chirp, chirp
across the sky
stop to watch as the sparrows fly
by and by, a dreamy sigh
spinning, swirling, shaking so
back outside to watch the show
soon the sun will start to fade
ending yet another day
twinkle, twinkle little star
daddy thinks its in the car
down the stairs and out the door
be right back to try once more
left and right and in between
catch my breath and stop to lean
against the stairs but for a sec
the day has vanished oh so quick
back and forth and up and down
wipe and rinse and nearly drown
one, two, three, from a to zed
time to fall into my bed
slowly drifting out of sight
lost in dreams throughout the night
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