toss it up for grabs
till it falls foul
dance it quick-step
fast as you can
beach it
with head buried in sand
wad it
tear soaked tissues in hand
or
just get some!
Written for Misky’s Twiglets using the words “It’s a ball.”
humor
The Crank
As the argument unfolded
he sputtered and clanked,
like a cold radiator
cranking up the heat.
Twiglet Prompt #5: “cold radiator.” A twiglet is a short phrase. Or a word. Maybe two. Its aim is to “prompt” a flow. A thought. The idea is to create a poem or piece of prose using the twiglet as the jumping off point – the shorter the better! New twiglet prompts appear each Tuesday — join the fun!
Recipe Card for Rejuvenatement
Feeds: TBD
Baking Time: 65 to 70 years.
Time may vary, depending on your power source
Ingredients:
One ripe chick or rooster
Zest of lemon pepper (sometimes called life)
1 cup of sunny disposition, firmly packed
1 Peter Pan attitude [the flying kind; not the collar]
Dash of bitters, tempered by condensed joy
Step lively – do not beat.
To achieve needed volume,
may use lower speed or additional appliance.
Texture may be wrinkled – this is normal.
Choose icing to your liking.
Tutti fruiti is, by far, the most popular.
Add cinnamon red hots for extra kick.
Tinsel may be used for effect during the Christmas season.
Best served with a glass of cold chardonnay,
although a virgin bloody mary may also make merry.
Enjoy!
For today’s Poetics prompt at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, Mish asks us to write a recipe poem! She includes a list of suggestions such as a recipe for peace, merriment, etc and “rejuvenation” was among the suggestions. Well! That’s my word! See my About 🙂 Never say “retirement.” I’m in rejuvenatement! 🙂 So here you go, Mish! I accepted the challenge. Photo is of my Christmas tree when I was a little girl — drenched in tinsel! Hence the line in the poem.
Miss Autumn
She lifted her can-can skirt
for all the world to see,
well beyond a peek-a-boo look!
Layers of crimson and gold
bedazzle with voluptuous shimmers
as high kicks accompany a stiff breeze!
How I love the fall season in Boston! Another razzle-dazzle poem for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets! Come see what other folks have written to bedazzle you!
Two Clerihews
** A clerihew is a comical biographic verse. See full explanation below photos.
i.
All the ladies admired the young Houdini,
but wished he performed in a thong bikini.
Their screams take it off created a racket
as he hung upside down in a confining strait jacket.
ii.
Rip Van Winkle slept away the years,
escaped his wife’s nagging and too-often tears.
Thought he’d be a ladie’s man, a new phenomenon,
instead he limped beside the dames, testosterone gone.
Written for dVerse, a poet’s pub, where today Gayle asks us to write a Clerihew: a comic verse on biographical topics consisting of 2 couplets and an aabb rhyme scheme. The first line is to name the individual. Form invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) at age sixteen. Very challenging to write humorous poetry!!! Pub officially opens at 3 PM Boston time…drop by and read some more of these — or try your hand at comical verse and share yours with other dVerse readers!
Wherefore Art Thou?
Eyes droop in early morn,
pen moves slowly as words dribble.
Muse remains softly ensconced,
asleep in warm bed across the hall.
The Feminist Deconstruction of Humpty Dumpty
I warned you!
and the spiders have taken heed . . .
You cared not to sit with ordinary blokes,
dangled your feet and watched all their woes.
You squirreled me away with Peter’s wife,
stuck in a pumpkin shell for life.
I am not addled nor scrambled in wits.
And so in the evenings of hey diddle diddle
your eyes on the cow and the cat and the fiddle,
I found my way out, maneuvering the vine.
I added more bricks by the light of the moon,
layer by layer, higher it grew.
Til I smiled in the window that final day,
snacking on pumpkin and watching you swoon.
You sat on your wall, looking down upon me
sneering and laughing and kicking in glee.
And then with bravado, a tip of your hat,
you leaned forward and laughed
until . . .
Splat!
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
couldn’t rewrite you together again.
The wall is demolished, Jill’s bucket is full.
I am quite proud and raucously so,
to sit on my tuffet, secure in my ways,
eating, nay feasting, on curds and whey.
Kim is hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, a virtual pub for poets. Bar opens at 3 PM. We’re asked to take a character, fictional or non-fictional, and re-write their story from the point of view of their husband or wife. I’ve taken the liberty of assuming Little Miss Muffet was married to Humpty Dumpty 🙂 Photos from Childcraft, Volume One Poems of Early Childhood, copyright 1947. I may be a tad older than my readers so these photos provide the Mother Goose rhymes alluded to in my poem.
16 Words in my City World
blinking window lights
‘gainst darkening city scape
nondiscriminating fire flies
summer, spring and winter skies
View from our Boston deck at night.
Merry Me Not
Carnival merry-go-rounds go
round and round and up and down.
My knot-so-merry-tummy goes
round and round and up
and down and urp [sic] it goes,
paint me calliope green.
Written for dVerse Tuesday Poetics where CC is tending bar. The topic of conversation is “even monkeys fall from trees.” CC asks us to write about mistakes we’ve made – can be humorous or serious. Well, I learned the hard way — I never ride on merry-go-rounds! Photo credit: Richard Styles
Stuck
Some days
are like spinning tires on gravel.
The doing is there,
but the moving is not.
Photo credit: Nick Cowie.
lillian the home poet 