Got jitters ’bout
the weddin’ night
nekkid jumble?
You gotta grin and bare it.
Conjugal Rites
Tag Archives: Humour
Stop Right There
If you want a real writing slump
Use the word ‘quell’ as a prompt
Write About Dead Avengers
Write about dead avengers?
Jack Ruby springs to mind.
He shot a man who shot a man.
I guess they’re two of a kind.
***
On this day in 1963: Jack Ruby killed Lee Harvey Oswald, who killed President John F. Kennedy. And Dallas policeman J. D. Tippit. That last death is never mentioned, is it? I discovered it by accident when I Googled Jack Ruby.
The title came from a writing prompt.
Poem Written Straight Onto This Blog Because Why Not?
Christmas will soon be upon us
and so I suppose the onus
is on me to post a poem or two
to celebrate the season
and hence the reason
for this messy rhyme
is to give myself a little time
to dig some out
to write some up
but also to raise a cup (or more)
to acknowledge that it’s not for all
though I do implore my regulars
(you know who you are) to stay
not drift away
not go too far
for the following month
until I’m done with thematic lines
and if you do I promise
that from time to time
I’ll throw in a random unseasonal verse
hey
it could be worse
I could be a grocer in a ‘Christian’ land
I find it quite funny
and by funny I mean odd
that for folk
with faith only in money
and none at all in God
it sometimes seems
their Christmas lasts
from September First to January Sixth
’til we’re all sick of it
and even I
a real believer
am relieved
when it is over.
Inspired by a Poster in PetSmart
Puss’s eyes rebuke my pretension
I am spurned with a regal hiss
Cats were once worshipped as gods
Cats have never forgotten this
Art for Art’s Sake
I’m writing with speed
Some’s not fit to read
I’m writing with gusto
It’s not all apropos
I’m writing with vigour
Some’s garbage; go figure
I’m writing with ertia
…………………(I must intersperse here:
………………….Ars gratia artis
………………….i.e. arse down; sit, artist
…………………..Must scribble away
…………………..Momentum’s in play)
I should write more; faff less
If I want to progress
I’m under the whip
Of my own craftsmanship
Excremental Blues
There is nowhere
so lonely
for a suffering backside
as a November bathroom
at midnight.
***
This one is brought to you courtesy of my own bathroom, for obvious reasons…
Discover more about The Book of Pooetry here.
Ye Age-Old Husband Warning
Forget the day that I was born –
We two shall be asunder torn.
Forget the day that saw us wed –
Thy horn shall find a thorny bed.
Forget to love me – I might cry;
But you, my love, shall surely die.
The Housewife’s Aphrodisiac
You want me trembling
with desire for you?
Offer to wash the dishes.
***
I’m posting this one from Hormoanal to celebrate the two copies sold yesterday, thus doubling last year’s sales!
Serves You Right
Vote; don’t vote
Please yourself
You’ve the right to see
Your vote withheld
…………………………But those who abstain
…………………………Don’t get to complain
…………………………About the selected
………………………….They did not get elected
If you squander your choice
You forfeit your voice
Unheard in the throng
When they serve you wrong
Poetry Fluff 