A Bad Luck Day (Poem)

I dropped my keys
When I just sneezed

Then tripped on Cat
And lost my hat

Which really sucked
‘Cause now I’m bald

I walked to work
Sweat in my shirt

I got there late
To a locked gate

And realized, quick
I was deep in trouble

Locked out here
And, also there
Without a spare

Without house keys
From when I sneezed

Without my cat
Without my hat

The day still sucked
I still was bald

I couldn’t work
Removed my shirt

I’d been too late
They’d closed the gate

I wasn’t quick
Was in deep trouble

Digging here
Searching there
I found the spare

And went inside to see it was a Sunday.

Photo by Amelie on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

You can enter a silly poem, too, for this week’s A Mused Poetry Contest. The theme is bad luck!

A Masked Romance

Martha and John, two wannabe lovers
Both swiped to the right
On cell phones (and hardcovers –
But that’s a story for another write).

The point is, at pinging
Of app on their matchup
Besides some light singing
They ‘greed on a catch up:

A date! And, thank goodness,
‘Twas fashionable to
Wear a mask if you could-ness
And sext over Zoom.

…..

A bit of a bother,
Once they reached Wedding Night:
They both scared each other;
So, they turned out the light!

Photo by Gustavo Fring on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

Results for this week’s A Mused Poetry Contest coming soon! You can still sneak one in; I won’t tell.

EH?, a poem

IT’S BEEN A TRIP
I CAN’T COMPLAIN
WE’VE BROKEN HIPS
AND SWOLLEN VEINS

THROUGH CATARACTS
I SEE YOUR FACE
YOU’VE GOT MY BACK
SO HAS MY BRACE

WHENE’ER YOU SNORE
AT TEN PAST LUNCH
I LOVE YOU MORE
THAN THIS OLD HUNCH

AND SO I SHOUT
SO ALL MAY HEAR
(‘CAUSE BATT’RIES’ OUT)
I LOVE YOU, DEAR.

©2020 Chel Owens

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Don’t forget to submit a poem for the A Mused Poetry Contest!

Chuckie Bob & His Award

Chuckie Bob had one desire:
To see his name in print;
For tightrope walking on a wire,
A public office stint,
Pulling babies from a fire,
Or earning quite a mint.

Unfortunate for Chuckie Bob:
When made by Mom and Dad,
They weren’t too worried ’bout their job
And skimped on brains a tad
-Whilst also being somewhat slobs
And calling thinking, “Bad.”

Still, decided growing Chuck,
He’d up and show them all.
He’d prove he wasn’t just a schmuck;
He stood up straight and tall.
He’d show he wasn’t some lame duck;
“And I will win!” He called.

But, Chuckie Bob forgot one thing,
As he sought his reward:
That warning labels mean something
When they say, ‘Pull the cord
-But after you have cleared the wings,
Propellers, engines, board’

Now, Chuckie Bob’s been made the king
Of Darwin’s famed award.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

Enter your own poem for this week’s contest, due tomorrow!

How to Wake a Teenager

The way to get a teenager out of bed is with last night’s pizza. Just lean in to the lifeless lump of blankets atop your teen’s bed, plug your nose against the smell of the room, and whisper the magic words: “Pizza,” “Breakfast.”

You may think they want it fresh, or hot, or crispy. You are wrong.

“Pizza for breakfast” will result in the sudden escaping of a barely-dressed teenager from his blanket cocoon. You’ll find your teen illuminated by the open refrigerator; feet on your best cushions; happily consuming an old, cold, slimy pizza slice.

Yes, for breakfast.

©2020 Chelsea Owens, except photo

I had a hankering to answer Carrot Ranch‘s prompt:

April 2, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes pizza. It can be an original pizza pie (or slice) or something pizza-like. Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by April 7, 2020. Use the comment section… to share, read, and be social. You may leave a link, pingback, or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

Little Willie: Some Terrible Poems

Little Willie learned of love
Tried it on a girl he’d heard of
Saw her driving; tried to rush
Now he feels a different crush.

A fresh apple!
-Willie sees
Newton’s Law
Sees Wil-lie.

Once when Willie, feeling bold,
Traded in his gramma’s gold,
Midas Pawn Shop learned too much;
Gave poor Will their famous touch.

Willie broke his mama’s back
Try’n to step on ev’ry crack
Mama’s had it with his sass
Used her cane to whip his hide.

Hole in ‘chute,
At airplane jump;
Will said, “Shoot!”
Then, he said *clunk!*

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Wanna try a Little Willie poem? They’re the topic of this week’s Terrible Poetry Contest!