Better late than never, here is the winner of the last A Mused Poetry Contest before my annual summer sabbatical! Which amazing poet encapsulated eccentricity the best? (Warning, for those who are prudish, to skip this one 😀 )
Untitled, by Matt Snyder
Hi twiddily Dee hi twiddily Doe
I prance about and give it a go
Wearing nothing but
a well placed sock down below
my backside and top bits bask
about in a moonlit glow
hi diddle Dee hi diddle Dee do
with top hat and monocle
and a touch of class
How dare you speak of my big fat
ask me now I say to thee
I am but a man full of dignity
of Grace of flair
who cares if my sock is my frontal
A middle e and a middle o
like a great cat’s meow
I must go
but not first without
leaving you with a taste of my riches
I remove my sock
to reveal my delicious
solid gold coc….
Sorry gotta keep
the end PG
for the poetry Mrs
Congratulations, Matt! You are the funniest poet for the month!
From such a talented pool of writers, Matt’s poem stuck out to me …erm, that is- it pushed ahead… hm. Let’s just say I laughed the most, shall we?
Eccentricity’s a tough one to define, but not so tough to write cleverly about -at least for these poets:
Moon Dancing, by Frank Hubeny
The night sky is clear and the full moon is bright.
It’s nutty I know but I’ll dance in its light.
The moon doesn’t care. “Yes, I do.” Well, so what?
“You’re nutty enough.” No, I ain’t. “You’re a nut.”
An Eccentrics Guide To Lightening Up / Or; Go With The Flow, by Obbverse
A rare precious few view me as being one of a kind,
Far more as possessed of a most peculiar singular mind,
One gloomy psychiatrist classified me as slightly neurotic,
A better one called me, far more politely, simply quixotic.
Some call me eccentric, but that ain’t fair,
I prefer to think I think outside the square,
Others say my view on reality is a tad murky,
They say I’m ‘way out there,’ I’d say ‘quirky.’
The true eccentric is hard to define,
The clued-up eccentric rides a fine line,
It’s best to keep eccentricities on the down low;
Tone it down bro, or up to Bellvue you’re bound to go.
Some admit they think outside the box,
I don’t… wish to submit to electric shocks,
So, Doc, if eccentricity’s in the eye of the beholder
Just call me quietly eccentric- I don’t wanna smoulder.
Pickin’ a winner, by Michael Fishman
I feel an urge!
There’s something to purge!
I can’t tell it’s size
without a poke and a prise.
Is it soft as a sock
or as hard as a rock?
I won’t know a where, a what or a why
until I reach in and wiggle and try.
I pick my nose.
And so it goes.
What’s that you ask?
It was yellow and green
it was curled up and dried;
and if I ate it or not
is up to you to decide.
I know it’s kind of gritty,
my slightly odd eccentricity.
And though it’s not so pretty,
I hope you won’t dismiss-a-me
Shopping Al Fresco, by Hobbo
When shopping for food
She always went nude,
A decision eccentric, if rash,
But the girl was no fool
And though sometimes cool,
She was never again stuck for cash.
I plan to continue the contest once I return. Enjoy your summer (or winter) in the meantime!
Matt, here’s the slightly inaccurate badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!
©2021 The poets, and their respective works