Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Tag

03/12/2023 “Miss Emily”   Leave a comment

Born: December 10, 1830, Died: May 15, 1886 (aged 55)

*****

I’m something of a fan of serious poetry and an even bigger fan of those bawdy limericks I post so often. I guess I’m simply a fan of creative people who aren’t afraid to bare their souls to us. I’ve noticed over the years that creative types are a breed all their own. Many are looked upon as being a little strange or weird which has always seemed unfair. Being strange or weird for me is a badge of honor. Let me share the following with you.

Emily Dickinson, whose poetry thrills millions today, fantasized about the earth and sky and heaven itself, but left her home state, Massachusetts, exactly once, and that was to visit her father in Washington DC. She became such a recluse that she would not stay in the same room with her guests but would speak to them from an adjoining room.

Only seven of her poems were published in her lifetime. After her death in 1886, over 1,000 poems were discovered in a bureau. They were subsequently published, but often after word and punctuation changes were made by overzealous editors. A definitive edition of her works did not appear until the 1950’s.

As with all artists and other creative types, you never seem to get the recognition and fame you deserve until you’re dead.

R.I.P.

09/30/2022 “Fall”   1 comment

With September already over and cold temperatures beginning, it’s time to have some fun before the snow starts flying. With the holidays approaching I thought I’d publish a revised version of the Worker’s Prayer. This is posted for all of those people (my better-half included) that are stuck in thankless retail jobs across the country.

The Worker’s Prayer

“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I cannot accept and the wisdom to hide the bodies of those people I had to kill today because they pissed me off, and also help me to be careful of the toes I step on today, as they may be connected to the ass I may have to kiss tomorrow.”

And just for the hell of it I decided to author a haiku as requested by a friend. Here it is.

❤️

The sky is so blue

A dot of sunshine yellow.

Forget me never.

T.G.I.F.

08/28/2002 “Bad Poetry Alert”   Leave a comment

I’m warm and cozy…

I hear distant sounds . . .

I feel and hear a rhythmic pumping . . .

A spasm, a sharp tug, another spasm, and then light.

I AM

❤️

07/24/2022 Limerick “How To” II   Leave a comment

As promised, here is the second installment of David McCord’s limerick writing primer. He not only shows how to write a limerick but gives excellent examples of the various types you can create.

Consider this odd little snail

Who lives on the rim of a pail:

Often wet, never drowned,

He is always around

Safe and sound, sticking right to his trail.

💥💥💥

A man who was fond of his skunk

Thought he smelled pure and pungent as punk.

But his friends cried No, no,

No, no, no, no, no, no!

He just stinks, or he stank, or he stunk.

💥💥💥

Here’s one of his poems as well. Enjoy!

There was an old man who cried Boo!

Not to me or to he but to you.

He also said scat

To a dog not a cat,

And to Timbuc he added too-too.

💥💥💥

“This season our turnips was red

And them beets was all white. And instead

Of green cabbages, what

You suspect that we got?”

“I don’t know,” “Didn’t plant none,” he said.

💥💥💥

THE FINAL INSTALLMENT TOMORROW

06/25/2022 “Lewd, Screwed, and Tattooed”   Leave a comment

🍩🍆🍩🍆🍩

A few weeks ago, I promised you limerick lovers some really bawdy and rude limericks. I have quite a collection of those, but I hesitate to post them because it would be really bad if any children were to read them. I recently bought a book from an online thrift store which contains 1001 of the rudest limericks I’ve ever seen. I’m still considering whether to post any of them or at least try to find a few that are a little less objectionable.

Just to give you some idea what I’m talking about I thought I would regale you with an erotic poem written by the author of the book, Mr. Ronald Stanza. This little ditty was copied directly from the rear page of his book cover. Good luck.

❤️

Here now is a steamy collection

Of limericks rare. Each selection

Will run for five lines,

Contain marvelous rhymes –

Detailing sex acts of subtle complexion.

🤤🤤🤤

Though often the rhyming is coarse

And the meter is ragged, or worse.

Positions are randy

The sex is jim-dandy

In this book of libidinous verse.

😋😋😋

Some readers may think that it’s crude

To offer for sale what is lewd

But if you’re offended

By what is appended.

We’ll say what you are: you’re a prude!

😏😏😏

For others the thought of an organ

Of sex is a scream. And it’s sure fun

To peep and to poke

And make sex a joke.

If a fault, it’s delightfully human!

🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

The more I read this little ditty the more I like it. A special thanks goes out to Mr. Ronald Stanza for his fine work. I’ll let you know about the final decision on the week of lewd limericks in a few days, but it isn’t looking good.

HAVE A GREAT (AND HOPEFULLY LEWD) WEEKEND

06/08/2022 “Questionable Poetry”   1 comment

❤️MOMENTS❤️

It’s that look when I’m not really looking.
It’s that lick of your lips when I am.
It’s the smell of your hair when I’m near you.
It’s the feel of your body in my hands.

It’s the taste of your ear when I’m horny.
It’s the wet of my tongue when you are.
It’s whispering something really corny.
It’s your voice when say you want more.

It’s these moments you’ll never forget.
It’s the essence of what we’ve become.
It’s the reasons we eventually met.
It’s to these moments we finally succumbed.

MOVE OVER WALT WHITMAN (LOL)

06/02/2022 Limericks X 2   Leave a comment

I thought today we might start the month of June with a collection of limericks. This is what can be called a double dose because these limericks were written about limericks. I know it sounds confusing, but you’ll get the gist once you start reading. Enjoy . . .

The limerick packs laughs anatomical

Into space that is quite economical.

But the good ones I’ve seen

So seldom are clean,

And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

😷😷😷

If you find for your verse there’s no call,

And you can’t afford paper at all,

For the poet, true born,

However forlorn,

There’s always the lavatory wall.

😉😉😉

The limericks callous and crude,

It’s morals distressingly lewd.

It’s not worth the reading

By persons of breeding,

It’s designed for us vulgar and rude.

🥴🥴🥴

Oh limericks, Dr. Jekyll’s oblivious,

Till his alter ego is delirious.

Then it can’t be denied

Such rhymes by Mr. Hyde

Will be lecherous, lewd and lascivious.

🤪🤪🤪

That’s it for today. Keep checking in on a daily basis because I’m planning a full week of limericks that will definitely not be acceptable to the younger generation. Let’s call it “Questionable Limerick Week”. I’m compiling the list of limericks as we speak.

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND

05/05/2022 More Bad Poetry   3 comments

Enjoy the holiday!!

Poetry is an enigma to me. I wouldn’t know good poetry if my life depended on it and even the bad poetry that I sometimes see doesn’t sound so bad. Anything that confuses me like that makes it impossible for me to take it too seriously. After a recent Bad Poetry Post, I received a few e-mails with samples from some of my readers. I assume they sent them because they thought they were bad, I don’t really know, so you figure it out. I think the first one was sent to me because I’m from Maine and someone thought I might be interested in Moose poetry. Good luck with that one. Here it is . . .

A moose is like a bull on stilts
With a silly kind of head.
And if one of them sat on you
You’d probably be dead.

Do you really think that’s bad poetry? It seems okay to me but nothing special. It’s a little bit of truth with a little bit of silliness. Here’s the next one which I really don’t understand about a Toad. It’s a little weird but kind of funny. It seems more like a limerick than poetry but when you get right down to it there isn’t much of a difference.

The story that is told
By a severely flattened toad,
Is of evidential failure
In attempts to cross the road.

This next poem hits home for me primarily due to my advanced age and secondly because it brings back memories of my favorite grandmother who passed away a very long time ago. See what you think.

💖

Of love and marriage who can say, which
way these things can go.
A loving wife, a shrieking hag, no one
will ever know.

The years of youth have come and gone,
with memories good and bad.
The happiness of family, the love of mom
and dad.

The years should teach you something, or
so we’re always told.
Remain yourself no matter what, and mellow
when your old.

Your life is filled with happiness, and
sorrows big and small,
But not until your old and gray, will you
understand it all.

It is a shame that through the years, this
knowledge lies unused.
Erring and blundering again and again,
with help and advice refused.

So, think about the elder ones, grandmothers,
grandfathers and such,
Who’ve experienced life’s many problems,
and could help you oh so much.

Their days are few in number, and once
their gone it’s sad.
Accept their help and listen close, to the
experiences that they’ve had.

And when they’ve gone, you’ll think of them
the way they used to be.
The memories are all you have, but that’s
enough you see.

🌯🍹🌶

ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAY

04/30/2022 Bad Poetry Alert   Leave a comment

Today we’ll be introduced to what might be called something less than a romantic love poem. For those of you out there who worship at the steps of classical poetry, I apologize. I like my poetry a little more down to earth and accented with a bit of humor, be it erotic or rude, you decide. This was written some years ago, but it took a long time for me to actually decide to blog it. Anyone who knows me from that time will understand the fun of it, I hope.

PUPPY LOVE

First love is a thrill you never forget,

It sends a warmth through your heart.

Fifty years later the memory remains,

but the feelings have fallen apart.

How to recall those wonderful days,

when the freshness of things made you wish,

For the love a girl with beautiful hair,

in a field, all alone…

Do you smell fish?

04/25/2022 More Bad Poetry   1 comment

Slow Dance

Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain slapping the ground?

Ever followed a bird’s erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun as it fades into night?

Do you run through your day on the fly?
When you ask, “How are you?” Do you hear the reply?

When your day is done do you lie in your bed?
With the next hundred chores running through your head?

You’d better slow down don’t dance so fast.
Life is short and the music won’t last.

Ever told your child, we’ll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste, not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch and let a good friendship die?
Cause you never had time to call and say “Hi”

When you’re running so fast to get somewhere,
You miss all of the fun in getting there.

When you rush and worry all through your day,
It’s like an unopened gift that’s just thrown away.

Life isn’t a race. Do take it slower,
Listen to the music before the song’s over.

MORE TO COME

%d bloggers like this: