The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/31 – 11/06/2020

Do you love to laugh out loud? Silently snicker? Guffaw as you …gallop? You’re in the right place!

Here are the rules for this week:

  1. The Theme is road-trip disasters or vacation mishaps. Did you travel all day and into the night, only to find another person in your bed? Find a flat tire midway through Nebraska? Get chased by roos in The Never-Never? Poem about it.
  2. Length: flexible. Keep the word count between 5 and 155 words.
  3. I recommend Rhyming, but it’s up to you!
  4. Arriving in a strange town where no one speaks your language and discovering you haven’t packed spare underwear is very frustrating, so the Rating can be PG-13 or cleaner.
  5. MAKE US LAUGH. Sad as you feel/felt/will feel, capture the humor in the annoyance.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (November 6) to submit a poem.

Use the form, below, to remain anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment if your link-back doesn’t show up by midnight the day you create it.

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Bon voyage!

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Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 10/30/2020

In honor of Halloween (sort-of), poets needed to amuse us with verses about masks! Who did so in the funniest way?

Masquerade, by Sara of Relaxitsallwrite
All I had to go on were his eyes

Hazel, hypnotic, alluring

They summoned me from across the ballroom

He had only my eyes as well

Ice-blue, and intrigued

I maneuvered my voluptuous gown through the crowd

And met him, mask to mask

While mine encompassed the beautiful butterfly I desired to be

With stunning wings, wide-spread across my cheeks

His was a bit silly, like a court jester

With speckles, peppering a long, triangular nose

I struggled to avoid it as we danced

And dance we did

Then, he tried to kiss me, but his nose got in the way

I grew frustrated

I wanted to sink into his lips, like a butterfly drinking from a tulip

So gently, I removed his disguise and leaned in

But was immediately put off

When I realized his nose was the same shape as his mask

Congratulations, Sara! You are the funniest poet for the week! I admired your rhyme, but laughed after the great buildup to a reveal no one wants upon first meeting!

Although only one could win first place, I loved the others as well:

The Masque of the Covid Death (With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe), by Trent P. McDonald
As midnight tolled the fateful hour
A new guest appeared
Amongst the revelers
Rheumy eyes
Stared from the mask
A cough shook the frame
Prospero, angry yelled
“Halt, false fellow
For we do not
Like your Covid-like mask
Who are you
To be so bold?
Show yourself!”
The guest
Dressed as the very victim of the plague
Walked from room to room
None dared bar his way
He stopped in room Seven
The room of Black and White
Prospero raised his AR-15 rifle
“Unmask yourself now!”
But when the guest turned
Prospero fell in a coughing fit
The other guests
In their madness
Tore the mask from the new guest
To their horror
An N95 was beneath
And then they knew
There was no escape
And Darkness and Decay and the Covid Death
Held illimitable dominion over all.
(OK, the last line was borrowed from Poe, about word for word 😉 )

Untitled, by DumbestBlogger
What’s behind the mask?
Stop it, not so fast!
Wait, what’s in the cask?
Poison? Poison you say?
Too bad
If only he had been more vigilant about his mask
He wouldn’t have drunk from the cask
Oh well
Time for the coroner’s task

De-masked, by Bruce
I have no idea
why you feel the need to wear
that fabric mask with style.
You’re so naturally ugly from ear to ear
that Covid19 cowers in fear
and droplets run a mile.

Night Of The Giving Dread, by Obbverse
We’re fast approaching October thirty-first
When once again good folk shall be cursed
By that gnawing feeling of impending dread
As the spirit of Gluttony raises its ugly head.

‘Twill be the night of Halloween
When every pre-adolescent ‘tween
Unbidden, comes a’rappin’ at your door,
That ain’t the kinda rap you can ignore.

They’ll demand a trick or treat,
The trick is- give ’em all they can eat,
Dole out them candies from the bowl,
Better being poor than have an empty soul.

Dish it out and don’t dare ask
What sweet child’s hiding ‘neath that mask?
Just kindly smile while putting on your happy face
A’praying the overladen urchins don’t egg your place.

Prompt at midnight, switch off the porch light-
Witching hour is done, Children Of The Night –
All pure but poor souls, sit back and enjoy the hush,
Soon ’nuff you’ll hear some kids full-on sugar ru- flush.

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
C’mon my chums, don’t be shy
Don’t you want to take a peek?
C’mon give it a try,
It could be the start,
Of your winning streak.

Five quid to look behind,
The Mask and try your luck.
Five quid for a quick glance,
C’mon fellows,
I promise you won’t barf.

It could be an angel,
Of delight and arouse your passion,
It could be a mad man,
With a very loud voice,
In need of a good thrashing.

Perhaps it’s your great Aunt,
Or, that cute girl down the street.
Perhaps it’s that annoying niece,
C’mon mates,
Don’t you want to compete?

Stand up lads,
It’s time to try your luck,
Five quid can’t be beat,
I’ll scream now when you turn green,
I promise we’ll have time to duck.

Time to be scared, by Gary
So many years and so many Halloween’s

Desperately trying to create a scary smokescreen

Always searching for the perfect Mask

The truly frightening one which is up to the task

I’ve tried them all but they end of just being lame

Freddy Kruger was just do ridiculously tame

Dracula and Frankenstein were as scary as the lovely Joan Hickson

Jason and Michael masks made me look like the unlovely Richard Nixon

But now I’ve seen the path to the perfect scary look

Maybe I should don a Chefs hat and carry a cookbook

Maybe I should dig out my old French Can-Can costume

Maybe a morning mirror photo of me from the bathroom

Actually there is a much simpler way for me to truly scare

Me just going unmasked is the perfect psychological warfare.

What’s behind the mask?, by sudrakarma
What’s behind the mask?
You might well ask,
but as well you might not want to know.

For I have as many
as needed, nigh twenty
to choose from to wear
for the daily show

But if you dare look beneath
that care-crafted sheath
to what’s hidden
deep, down below

You may fear what you find:
Though my smile is kind,
danger lurks in my Shadow

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Photo by Ariza Chrisananda on Pexels.com

A great BIG thanks to all those who entered! Come back around tomorrow at 10 a.m. for next week’s prompt.

Sara, here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/24 – 10/30/2020

It’s the week before Halloween here in the United States! Let’s look to amuse with some boo’s!

Here are the spooky specifics:

  1. Our Theme is What’s behind the mask? Did two socially-distanced first-daters face a nasty surprise? Perhaps the Phantom of the Opera revealed an embarrassing birthmark? You decide, and you write a poem about it!
  2. Keep the Length manageable, at between 3 and 153 words.
  3. Rhyme if your crystal ball tells you to, but don’t if it’s not in the cards.
  4. There’s no need for tricks regarding Rating. You can scare your victims readers and keep things clean.
  5. However you choose to cast your spell, my dear, ensure your Halloween brew is brimming with humor.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 30) to submit a poem.

Use the magic form, below, to remain anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, include your spellbook poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment or conjuring crystal if your link-back doesn’t show up by midnight of when you cast it.

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Happy haunting!

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Photo by Ariza Chrisananda on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 10/23/2020

Phew! What a challenge! This week, poets needed to compose a diamante about a diamond-seeker; a swindler; a gold-digger. When I wrote up the prompt, I didn’t consider how DIFFICULT answering it might be. So, understandably, these entries were more clever and interesting than they were humorous.

But, the winner is:

Untitled, by Teleportingweena
gold
shiny rich
dig find shout
pan stream nugget money
hop skip jump
heavy metal
miner

Congratulations, Weena! You are the funniest poet for the week! I found this poem so entertaining because you answered the prompt literally. Very funny idea.

You’d do yourself a disservice to not read all the fabulous entries. Here they are:

Untitled, by Richmond Road
Morning
Soft Sweet
Waking Shaking Beginning
Birds Bees Flowers Trees
Breathtaking Remaking Forgiving
Victorious Glorious
Day

Untitled, by Ruth Blogs Here
User
Needy, greedy
Desires, conspires, covets
Meal-ticket gold-digger
Pretends, discards, repeats
Serially, imperiously
Fake

The greedy gold-digger, by Hobbo
woman
calculating, opportunistic
searches, researches, discovers
partner, mansion, yacht, diamonds
tricked, duped, imprisoned
handsome, undercover
cop

Untitled, by D. Wallace Peach
Youth
Luxurious addictive
Fawning fooling pleasing
Days week years boredom
Reconsidered discarded replaced
Younger other
Woman

Untitled, by D. Wallace Peach
Diamonds
Brilliant dangling
Tantalize beguile enthrall
Avarice dreams luxury ease
entrapped hooked convinced
blinding, devious
paste

Untitled, by D. Wallace Peach
Dwarves
Bearded snoring
Picking shoveling boring
White laundry stitch seams
Cooks cleans dreams
Sweet deadly
Liberty

Untitled, by Willowdot
Thomas
Lythe, handsome
Pleasing, flattering, dancing
Money, diamonds, bedroom, cars.
Coaxing, grabbing, ageing
Arthritic, Madame.

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
Freedom
Dazzling, Ambitious
Cunning, Conniving, Calculating
Locks open, Doors close
Seizing, Capturing, Arresting
Helpless, Defeated
Imprisonment

Untitled, by The Bag Lady
Slick
Sneaky smooth
Dancing, prancing, prowling
Man, prince, knight, nobleman
Entice, envelop, engage
Active, alluring
Playboy

Untitled, by Teleportingweena
Janie
Flashy Schemer
Flirt Swish Smooch
Shoes Jewels Clothes Money
Twirl Smile Wink
Coquettish Digger
Gold

Everyone Owes Them?, by Larry Trasciatti
Victims
Entitled Deceptive
Blaming Expecting Resenting
Sheep Sheepdog Wolf Poison
Crying Brainwashing Rewriting Terrorizing
Insatiable Obsessed
Unhappiness

Untitled, by LSS Attitude of Gratitude
Gold-digger
Sultry, Fake
Lying, Cheating, Scheming
Seductress, Jezebel, , Partner, Confidant
Caring, Loving, Holding
Honest, Charming
Soulmate

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Photo by emre keshavarz on Pexels.com

Thanks for playing!! Return tomorrow for next week’s prompt.

TPWeena, here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/17 – 10/23/2020

Welcome, one and all, to the A Mused Poetry Contest! Come, tickle your funny bone or leave us in stitches!

Here are the instructions for this week:

  1. The Theme is a Diamante poem about gold-diggers. Get it? Diamante is like diamonds? …Tell me you got it.
  2. I just learned about this poetic form from snooping around Ruth’s blog. Apparently, it’s a very easy, straightforward poem of sixteen words. You can write a synonym diamante or an antonym diamante. The words form a diamond, in the pattern of:

Noun
Adjective, Adjective
Verb, Verb, Verb
Noun, Noun, Noun, Noun
Verb, Verb, Verb
Adjective, Adjective
Noun

  1. This form does not Rhyme, but you can if you really, really want to.
  2. Keep the Rating PG or cleaner. I mean, why not?
  3. However you form it, make us laugh. Make us feel for the gold-digger, for his/her target, or for the gold that was dug.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 23) to submit a poem.

Use the form below to stay anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, for a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment if you try to link back and it doesn’t show up within a day.

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Indulge yourselves!

Photo by emre keshavarz on Pexels.com. Never trust the man bun.

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©2020 Chel Owens

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 10/16/2020

Ah, the classic comeuppance due to the deserving braggart; the fall after the pride; the karma to one’s hubris -this was the theme for this week’s amusing writers.

Only one rose above the rest to claim the dubious honor of funniest, and that was:

Untitled, by D. Wallace Peach
When the fireworks failed to ignite
The smoker asked for a light
With a big inhale
The swaggering male
Set off to light up the night

He applied his cig without care
Smug when the fuse caught and flared
An arrogant rube
He peered down the tube
And the night lit up with his hair

Congratulations, D. Wallace! You are the funniest poet for the week! I would be outright lying if I didn’t say that several of these poems made me laugh out loud. The illustrious Madame Peach’s poem won for her hilarious imagery, excellent vocabulary, and humorous take on the prompt.

I really did enjoy all of these. I hope you do as well:

Untitled, by Frank Hubeny
While waiting to win the award
I got tired. The judges got bored.
They forgot to choose me.
Did they look? Did they see?
Well, they looked, then I looked how I scored.

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
Debbie went for a run
She boasted that it was fun
But she didn’t expect to slip on a bun
And pull a ligament in her bum

Untitled, by Trent McDonald
Stan sniffed as people froze in fear
And strode right by, nose in the air
His haughtiness so keen
That the dragon wasn’t seen
So he walked straight into the lair

Untitled, by Trent McDonald
Bob laughed at the custodian, Jed
Because of the things that he said
“Be careful in the mill
For those machines can kill!”
Not listening, Bob lost his head

Untitled, by Dumbestblogger
At carnivals the rides are fine
But games are really quite sublime
Fred sent the ball full eight feet high
Joe laughed and said “I’ll make it nine!”
He picked the hammer up with glee
Missed the lever, hit his spleen
He aimed to send the ball up nine
Now six feet under Joe does lie

A Slight Misunderstanding, by Writerinretrospect
“I’m sure we can survive it,”
Said the vampire to his friend;
“Oh, no,” the friend replied,
“I’d rather stay undead.”
“It’s not that far,”
Came the reply,
“There’s no reason to quake.”
And so across the street the dyslexic went
To find himself a steak.

Route One, by Obbverse
He finally staggered triumphantly atop Mount Everest
Exhausted but immensely proud of his sky high climb,
Standing back to take in the view and a moments rest
He went from pinnacle to Ground Zero in record time.

Billy, by Hobbo
Billy bighead, a bit of a boaster
Invented the world’s largest toaster
One day he fell in it
And in less than a minute
His head was as flat as a coaster.

An Untitled (for reasons unknown) Limerick, by Michael Fishman
This handsome young man was in love,
well not totally, but kinda sort of.
He kneeled down to propose,
something tickled his nose,
and he blew boogers on her from below and above.

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Thanks for playing!! Return tomorrow for next week’s prompt.

D., here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/10 – 10/16/2020

Greetings, poets! Ready to laugh? You’re in the right place!

These are the specifics:

  1. What could possibly be funnier than accident by hubris? The inevitable fall because of overconfident pride? The trip of the boastful athlete? The …well, you get it.
  2. I don’t want Length to interfere with your style, but I recommend short, sweet, and snappy. A limerick might be perfect.
  3. Rhyming’s up to you and your form.
  4. Keep the Rating PG or cleaner.
  5. With the tragic fall comes the chance for tears, so be sure we’re laughing as our hero fails.
    I also request, if you choose political, that you do not stoop to personal insults -remember that everyone is someone’s son or daughter.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 16) to submit a poem.

Use the form below to stay anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, for a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment if you try to link back and it doesn’t show up within a day.

—–

Have more fun than your hero!

Photo by Valdemaras D. on Unsplash

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©2020 Chel Owens

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 10/9/2020

Just in time for Halloween, this week’s challenge was to write the wittiest message inside your next anniversary card. So, who wrote the wittiest?

Unaltered By Time, by Michael B. Fishman
148,920 hours since we said, “I do”,
and honey, baby, I still love you.

You always fight fair, you sometimes let me win.
And who really cares if you’re no longer thin?

You’re the mother of my children and one day you’ll agree,
that it’s probably a good thing that the kids look like me.

You’re the one and only entry in my little black book,
and it’s never been a problem that you really can’t cook.

Your eyes are as bright as that very first day,
and it doesn’t bother me that your hair is all gray.

All these years later, and I happy I met ‘ya?
Every minute, every day, oh sweetheart, you betcha.

Congratulations, Fishman, on a-musing me! You won for the clever, terrible, almost-sweet mentions to your sweetheart.

Others went a similar direction. Others, still, went farther for a good laugh. Read and enjoy:

Untitled, by Trent McDonald
Happy Anniversary!
(Only 4 days late)
Did I tell you today
That you look great!?

And can you believe
It’s been 10 years?
So full of smiles
(And full of tears…)
I remember that day
Oh so very well
(A party the night before,
I still felt like Hell.)

But you were beautiful
In your gown and vail
But my hung-over mind
Was only thinking of some tai..(BLEEP! – sorry, keeping it PG 😉 )

But overall it was
A day from Heaven
Even if the rings were forgotten
By my best man, Kevin

And since that best of days
When you were made my wife
I’ve counted my blessings
So thankful that you are in my life!

(Did I make it up to you
With my poetry?
Will you please unlock the door
And perhaps forgive me?)

Untitled, by Jon
Dear, Oh dear,
Another year!
Let me be clear:
I want to share,
as many as you dare!

An Anniversary Messsage, by H.R.R. Gorman
They say marriage is about sparks,
About that someone who in the dark
Sets your mind and loins aflame.
But isn’t that meager? Lame?

I’ve learned in this blissful year
That’s it’s more like cracking a beer
Open and accepting farts
Are made by those with good hearts.

So while I take a hot shower,
You grunt on the throne with power.
It’s the sign of your loving care
That you keep pooping and don’t stare.

Happy Anniversary!

Untitled, by Hobbo
Married now for fifty year
And I still think you’re hot
So, love is in the air, my dear
When you say,”Yes. Why not?”

Aunty Jess, by Mister Bump
To write this prompt, it wasn’t hard,
I hardly ever send a card.
My family is very scant,
Except down under, have an aunt.

Another aunt in Lancashire,
She’s eighty now, delightful dear,
Her birthday now is round about,
I’d better pull my finger out!

The card’s awaiting me to send,
My missus made it last weekend,
Better than I could have bought,
But to the message, gave no thought.

No flow’ry message was supplied,
Just “Happy Birthday” stamped inside,
As long as there’s no writer’s cramp,
All I’m waiting for’s a stamp.

Must keep my cool, not overkeen,
Her birthday’s not ’til Hallowe’en,
By then must break out from my bubble,
If card is late, I’ll be in trouble!

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
Roses are red
Violets are blue
We’ve grown old together
What are we going to do?

Hard of hearing,
You snore, I fart,
Thirty years together
It’s way too late to part

Untitled, by Gary
So sorry this card is late

So sorry I’m a bit overweight

I thought we had an anniversary last year

Do we really get them every year, my dear

Just 122 words is perfect for a food shopping list

Or divorce papers which I have chosen to miss

I’ve really got no idea why you put up with me

Especially as I’ve just spilled coffee over your settee

Untitled, by Ruth Scribbles
Thirty years ago

We tied the knot

You promised peaches

That’s all I got

Always on the cards, by Over Soil
Last second writing “All my love” so cursory,
Time and again made us forget each anniversary,
For us, protecting trees was always on the cards,
So what better than a trip to a nearby plant nursery.

Untitled, by Ellen Best
I love your beard … when its not there.
And the shine … that’s not hair.
The way that you snore sounded sweet
Well until, the first time it woke me from sleep.

I love the ring in your nose
The way you bite at your toes
Because you can’t be arsed,
to get the clippers off the shelf.

I like all the things that you do,
But you never bag the dogs poo.
Now that might make me mad,
just a bit.
I am glad we got wed,
Though you spent a week in bed
Because of jet lag
As I recall you to say.

Romance is not dead
We’ll have adventures you said,
So we married on a beach in the bay
Even the bomb squad didn’t ruin our day.

—–

Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

Thanks for playing!! Return tomorrow for next week’s prompt.

Michael Fishman, here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/3 – 10/9/2020

Welcome, one and all, to the A Mused Poetry Contest! We are very serious about humor here.

These are the specifics for this week:

  1. At Ellen’s suggestion, the Theme is the wittiest message inside your next anniversary card. (And, coincidentally, happy anniversary to her and her husband!)
  2. The Length needs to be short and sweet and easy on the ink. Let’s keep it under 122.5 words.
  3. Rhymes are a popular and catchy way to sell greeting cards, but it’s not a requirement for this contest.
  4. The Rating can be PG-13 or cleaner (please avoid cussing).
  5. The years have been kind to your sweetheart …or, maybe not. Either way, make him/her laugh. They’ve put up with you this long, after all…

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 9) to submit a poem.

Use the form below to stay anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, for a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment if you try to link back and it doesn’t show up within a day.

—–

Have a wonderful anniversary!

—–

Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 10/2/2020

I asked poets to pen a funny commercial. And the one who did so the best was:

Try our Thanksgiving Stuffing, by Bruce
We’re plucking the turkey
in preparation for Thanksgiving.
Pluck the turkey!
Pluck the turkey!
Sing as you pluck, O my three children!
I just wish the turkey would keep still.

We’re stuffing the turkey
in preparation for Thanksgiving.
Stuff the turkey!
Stuff the turkey!
Sing as you stuff, O my three children!
I just wish we’d taken the guts out first.

We’re roasting the turkey
in preparation for Thanksgiving.
Roast the turkey!
Roast the turkey!
Sing as you roast, O my two children!

Well, just shut up and pretend it’s a turkey.

Congratulations, Bruce, on being the funniest poet of the week! I selected his poem for its dark, clever humor. Well done, and -well- awful.

His had at least a few contenders as I snickered my way through reading. See for yourself:

Untitled, by Trent McDonald
Hey Mom and Dad!
Don’t be sad
For we have the newest kiddy fad!

You know the toy
A plastic bit of joy
Wanted by every girl and boy?

You need a pair
But they are dear
And you can’t find ‘em anywhere

A rumor of a stash
Causes teeth to gnash
And a million parents show up in a flash

Stand in a line
Hope for a find
But the last sold at nine

Well, come in a trice
We have some, that’s nice,
And are only charging ten times the price!

So, don’t take a nap
Came ay-sap
And buy some grossly overpriced crap!

Perkup: turns molehills into mountains, by Geoff LePard
Are you flaccid and sad?
Perkup will make glad

Lost your youthful zeal?
Perkup makes your dreams real

Confidence taken a dent?
Take Perkup and turn the smallest event
With the help of our latest fix
Into your very own Grand Prix!

Hey Hottie, by Matt Snyder
Hey Hottie How’s it Hanging ?
Halitosis, she says and hurries away

How many times has this happened to you Horny Harry ?
Have a swig of Herman’s Halitosis Herbal Mouthwash

And try again

Hey Hottie How’s it hanging ?
Hot and heavy Horny Harry

Herman’s Halitosis Herbal Mouthwash Keeping Horny Harry’s Halitosis Free

Untitled, by DumbestBlogger
Help! I’m being eaten by alligators!
Good thing I have Flex-Seal!
I’m going to make an alligator proof cage with it!
It sets up instantly!
It’s amazing!
Oops! The pirhannas were a little bit fast!

Untitled, by Willowdot
Book now
Before it’s too late
Trip of a lifetime
Heaven can’t wait.

Masks are provided
You must stay in your seat
Can’t use the loo
And there’s nothing to eat.

The duration is a fortnight
But might stretch to a month
Quarantine darlings
Read the small print in the bunff.

I’m Rona fly me!

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
Eyes glued to the box,
There’s drama to be seen.
Then it happens at the climax,
How can they be so mean?
Time is limited,
One and a half minutes to be exact.
Then the commercials will be over,
Quick, it’s time to act.
He puts the kettle on,
As I scurry down the hall.
So quickly, that I nearly skid,
And take a dramatic fall.
Teas brewing, he hollers,
As theme music begins to play.
Frustrated I curse,
Why is the loo so far away?
As voices sound I don’t have time to flush,
It will just have to wait.
The next bit will be dramatic,
I don’t want to be too late.
As I scurry to my seat,
He sighs in disbelief,
Another set of ads eight minutes away,
The tea will be ready then, what a relief.

Untitled, by Hobbo
A funeral plan, the ad man said
Is necessary, a must
To pay expenses when I’m dead
When dust returns to dust.

I listened well, did not dismiss
But what a paradox
When all life’s labours come to this
I’ve paid for my own box.

Ouch!, by Fishman
Sticks and stones won’t break your bones?
Ever been hit in the head with a rock or a club?

If you have, stop on into the Slowpoke Skull Center.

At the door we’ll meet’cha
And then we’ll treat’cha
And we’ll all be wearing masks.

And for safety we all wear gloves!
well, kinda sort of,
we’re still waiting for a delivery from our vendor.

And if you do like being hit in the head with a rock then we have doctors at the Slowpoke Psychiatric Center standing by. Just enter the door on the left.

If you’re dizzy and your visions blurry –
Don’t worry.
Just wave and we’ll come and get ‘ya in a hurry.

So, my dear head hurtin’ friend;
stop tiptoeing through the minefield of concussions,
come on in and we’ll have a discussion.
We’ll get rid of that pounding percussion
and that pain you can just start aflushin’.

Evening and weekend appointments available.

Twinkle Twinkle Body Hair, by Ruth Scribbles
Do I have a deal for you –

It’s not for your hose
It’s not for your shoe
It’s for your eyebrows
And even your nose

All of those hairs
Looking to escape
Need to be trimmed
Make no mistake

They say that the Twinkle*
Is quite easy to use
Just stick it up in there
No need for abuse

No need to worry
That clumping of hair
Will soon start to scurry
No more hair up in there

Your nostrils are now
Totally denuded
Thank you dear Twinkle*
I’m no more secluded

no batteries included.
keep out of reach of children.
don’t use on your pets.

*this product is real.
order right now to get your nostrils clean as a whistle.

Permanent Vacation
(To be breathily intoned by some honey-voiced ingenue in a pursers uniform?), by Obbverse
‘When vacation time rolls around
Don’t stay safe and home bound,
Let us wash all life’s cares away
On a Sunny Cruise ship holiday.’

‘Our crew is here, at your pleasure
To make your cruise a life of leisure,
Every last desire the crew anticipates,
Once you’re on board, Paradise awaits.’

‘If it’s high spirits you enjoy sinking
We set the bar when it comes to drinking,
And it’s always happy hour on the high seas,
Plus, our rock bottom prices are sure to please.’

‘Enjoy our fine company and our finer buffet,
And it’s All You Can Eat, so go re-stack your tray,
An endless smorgasbord, go and recharge your cup,
Finally, our rich desserts- customers always bring it up.’

‘However, should we sail into covid nineteen
We DON’T demand everyone stay in quarantine,
One dark night we’ll slip into some backwater port;
To remain out here, all at sea- could be our last resort.’

Here is my advertisement for your perusal, by Ellen Best
If, you have an Aunty, that makes up stories,
Or, an uncle Ernie you despise,
The ones that should know better,
But fill the world with wicked Lies.

Buy them the under garments
We sell,
you really will get no better,
They do what it says in the advert
Down to the letter.

They will not make them look delightful
Like a pretty Christmas sweater,
Or turn them in to entrepreneurs
Or the newest “Go getter.”

These under pants will make them
Nicer,
They will make them people to admire,
Because these knickers will cure their
Prepensity to be a liar.
For, Our Pants,
truly will,
Catch On Fire!

Untitled, by Gary
Cue the patriotic music and views of the White Cliffs of Dover

It’s time to sell Brexit to the masses, to buy into the dream, moreover

Just think of the future with our new brightly coloured passports

The fun of all those new travel checkpoints and long queues at the ports

The joy of telling our kids that we have taken away their right to free travel

Watch as our worker rights and environmental standards begin to unravel

Be happy as we sell the NHS to American Insurance Groups in the hope of a deal

Any deal as we cut ourselves adrift, is it time for chlorinated chicken to be revealed

Let’s not forget the rich brexit backers who for some reason have now moved abroad

Let’s be proud that now as a country we are free to rip up international accords

Enjoy the sight of all those companies now moving jobs away from our now free island

Yes remember those glossy Brexit adverts that told us to dream, smile and

Strangely failed to mention all the crap that is about to happen to our country

That’s the problem with adverts, they sell you stuff you don’t need, that’s speaking bluntly…..

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©2020 The poets, and their respective works