The A Mused Poetry Contest 9/26 – 10/2/2020

Hey! It’s the A Mused Poetry Contest! Make a gaffe, cause a laugh!

Here are the specifics for this week’s contest:

  1. The Theme is commercials: try radio, newspaper, halftime show, or a high-pressured letter you get in the mail.
  2. The Length needs to run between 5 and 155 words.
  3. Rhyming is at the discretion of the poet (you).
  4. The Rating can be PG-13 (though I’m not fond of cussing). Hear that, E??
  5. MAKE US LAUGH. I wanna hear your ditty passed around online meetings, morning talk shows, and incessant chatting from children at the dinner table.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 2) 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 fun!

—–

©2020 Chel Owens
Video ©Youtube

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 9/25/2020

This week’s prompt of a seasonal haiku may have sounded simple, but making it funny was no joke. After narrowing down the funniest entries, the winner was:

Untitled, by DumbestBlogger
I drink my coffee
Leaves fall in the cup
I choke and die

Dumbestblogger chose morbid humor for his entry. Even with so few syllables, he succeeded in making me laugh.

Enjoy the others as well:

Autumn, by Roberta Cheadle
Leaves, leaves everywhere
I’ll persuade hubby to rake
Where’s my lingerie?

Untitled, by Obbverse
Get strangers together,
Talk about the weather…
That never changes..

Special Day, by Matt Snyder
it’s our wedding day
hurricane blows up her dress
our Kodak moment

Untitled, by Ian Kay
brand new leaf-blower!
blows leaves into neighbour’s yard
covers my dog’s poop.

Seasonal change, by Hobbo
stunning mother nature
fresh frock every day

have you met my wife?

Untitled, by Willowdot
Days are getting short
Gaia’s tempers getting fraught
We just won’t be taught

The Coming of Autumn, by Trent McDonald
Frost on the leaf tip
Now I am sweating again!
Just make up your mind…

***

Leaves turn to bright red
I run out to frolic, and…
Oops, now I am red!

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
Summers coming quick,
You squeal in delight but
mosquitoes bite … hard

The Farmer Wife’s, by Heather Dawn
Fresh autumn wind blows,
There the honey wagon goes,
No! I hung the clothes!

Fall Picture Woesby Heather Dawn
Picture perfect day,
No chance for a perfect pose,
Five kids ruin those.

Seasonal Change 1, by Fishman
Picked up a red leaf.
pulled a muscle in my back;
Thanks a lot, Autumn.

Seasonal Change 2, by Fishman
Autumn is here now.
Lovely time; I’d write more, but
sadly I’m out of . . .

Untitled, by BS
One plus one is two
I fall for you in the fall
Now go rake the leaves

Untitled, by Ruth Scribbles
Seasons in Texas
All four in a hot teacup
Sip at your own risk

Fall in Southern California, by Lauren
Where are my long johns?
The temps are below normal.
It’s reached 80 now.

—–

Thank you for entering! I loved laughing along. Please come back tomorrow around lunchtime for the next week’s prompt.

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

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

The A Mused Poetry Contest 9/19 – 9/25/2020

Welcome to the A Mused Poetry Contest! Enjoy laughing? You’re in the right place!

Here are the specifics for this week’s contest:

  1. Seasons are changing. The Theme is a funny haiku (or, more technically accurate, a senryu) about seasonal change. Spring, fall, summer, winter, autumn; whatever.
  2. From Wikipedia about senryu, regarding Length: “three lines with 17 morae (or “on”, often translated as syllables, but see the article on onji for distinctions).” We’re also fine with the ole 5-7-5.
  3. Dude; this poetry form does NOT Rhyme.
  4. I dunno what might be racy about nature, so a G-rating is preferable.
  5. Just MAKE US LAUGH. Mother Nature needs to slap your wrists with climbing roses as she holds her vinèd sides in laughter.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (September 25) 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 fun!

—–

Photo by Jan Krnc on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 9/18/2020

Choosing a winner for this week’s prompt of warning labels was no small feat. I had several favorites; so, did the only fair thing and picked the one that tickled my funny bone most.

And that was:

Warning Labels, by Hobbo
‘Smoking kills,’ Sally read on the packet
As she bent down to pick up her litter
So engrossed, she did not hear the racket
Of the thirty ton lorry that hit her.

Hobbo won for the short, simple, abrupt, crushing humor of a poor, warning label-reader’s folly. Great work!

As I said, the others were no less humorous. Read for yourself (and learn from their tales):

Inferno, by TH Kerr
In case of fire, throw this in first.

The Forbidden Fruit, by H.R.R. Gorman
At night you’ll see me gently creeping
With mom and dad hard a sleeping
In through laundry room door.
I open the bag of forbidden snacks –
Attractive gummies, laundry packs.

Then you’ll hear my lips a smacking,
My YouTube channel gaining backing
While I eat Tide Pods galore.
My mouth – it foams with Clean Breeze
And a few civilian casualties.

The tags may say “Danger!” “Warning!”
But industry tools are boring.
As a big attention whore
I munch and crunch on banned fare,
On poison beautiful, I’m well aware.

Untitled, by DumbestBlogger
This 7¼” hand held circular saw is designed to cut 2x4s
Please do not perform surgery with it
That would be dumb
If you wish to perform a murder this tool would be excellent
We don’t condone murder
You should probably use it for 2x4s

Untitled, by Pensitivity101
A nifty thing, this kid’s stroller,
Keeps him warm and dry,
Proudly walking down the street,
I nod at passers by.
Then at home, it’s time to put
The kettle on for tea,
But first I have to take him out
And things are hard to see.
The label bears a warning here
To first remove the child
Before collapsing to put away,
Then instructions can be filed.

The new toaster, by Bruce
I don’t want to boast
But I just bought a thing that makes toast.
The instructions say: Plug in and use as one oughta.
It warns: Not to be plugged in and used under water.

Words of Warning, by Doug Jacquier
The fridge magnet letters spilled out on the table,
followed by the numbers and then a WARNING label.
‘Some more advanced children may well be prone
to spell out things you may not condone.’
Piffle, I snorted, as I added them to the door;
my kids are more adult and their taste is not poor.
What I hadn’t allowed for was their merciless wit
and their ability to give visitors an apoplectic fit.
Thus ‘HELLO BABE’ was what greeted tubby Mrs. Foster
and her balding hubby got NICE RUG. WHAT DID IT COST YER?
The Reverend was rocked by DO SHOES HAVE SOULS?
and Granny by HAVE YOU TRIED SHAVING YOUR HAIRY MOLES?
I gathered the clan and in a voice loud and ringing
said that any more pranks and their ears would be singing.
All was quiet for a while but you can’t stop temptation;
I was greeted with KIDS ARE CAUSED BY MULTIPLICATION.
Despire myself, I couldn’t stop laughing and arranged my reaction
ALL PROBLEMS CAN BE SOLVED WITH A LITTLE SUBTRACTION.
Game over but they must have the last word they decided
with the finale WE CANNOT STAND A HOUSE DIVIDED.

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
I felt it the moment they stuck it on.
Shame descended upon me right away.
I knew it for what it was,
A stigma, I swore I would make them pay.

For marked I was, I felt the others turn,
Association would only bring despair.
For we all knew since Covid-19,
That brushing off notoriety was rare.

Absently I wondered what crime I had committed,
I mean, I was a staple, I was beyond compare.
But then Larry, the wholesome muesli bar whispered,
“You contain nuts mate.” Life just wasn’t fair.

The Geriatric Behavioral Unit, by Ruth Scribbles
Granny was a pistol
She really was a rascal
And after Grandpa died last month
Her pranks became a scandal

We couldn’t keep her home alone
She loved to hide and play
We sent her to the unit
So they could make her stay

We went to visit granny
And thought all would be well
When we arrived right on time
We saw the sign and yelled

What is granny up to now
They said and wrung their hands
The help said she was determined
They tried to understand

Granny met this guy, you see
Who fell in love with her
She convinced him they should run away
The rest was all a blur
IMG_0506_Original

You Have Been Warned, by Obbverse
The small print.
Please check parcel arrives intact and complete,
Verify no packaging has been torn, tagged or ripped,
Our goods become lawfully yours upon receipt.
(Our job is done once it’s sealed and shipped.)
The fine print.
Please open package with the utmost care,
Check all contents against checklist inside,
The Company isn’t liable for loss, damage or repair
Of goods dispatched. (despite what we implied.)
The finer print.
Your satisfaction is paramount to this vendor
So should any parts be found to be lacking
Immediately return faulty goods to sender;
(We look forward to see what you sent packing.)
The finest print.
(Please see Section 86, Clause D about bad goods returns;)
If, by opening, our original box is folded, spindled or mutilated
The Company consider this raises wilful damage concerns
And therefore your Money Back Guarantee is invalidated.

(For this and further ongoing custom we thank you.
NO further correspondence will be entered into.)

Fair Warning, by Fishman
I took my radio into the bath with me
and the warning label was right.
I got a shock, a jarring jolt,
my lord it was such a fright.

I drained the tub and dried myself
my nerves were in quite a state.
I vowed right then to always heed the warnings labels words,
“You’re right, oh labels. I do oblige, I’ll do as you dictate.”

“I’ll hold the saw by the correct end,
I’ll believe that matches may cause fire.
I promise not to drive with the sun shield in place.
and I’ll believe that if I drink Clorox bleach I may, in fact, expire.”

With that all said I took a breath to try and calm my nerves.
But my heart kept racing – thump, thump, thump – it just would not agree.
I had to take a tranquilizer, not one as prescribed, but three.
The label was right ‘cuz the next thing I knew I… Zzzzzzzz…

—–

Thanks to everyone who entered. Please return tomorrow for next week’s prompt!

©2020 Chel Owens

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

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

The A Mused Poetry Contest 9/12 – 9/18/2020

Hello, hello, hello! Welcome to the second A Mused Poetry Contest! The #1 goal is a good guffaw, so think of a few laughing lines and join in!

Here are the specifics for this week’s contest:

  1. The Theme is a snappy poem about Warning Labels. I find them hilarious, because my mind immediately constructs whatever scenario led to their being written.
  2. For Length, keep it between 3-150 words. The form is up to you.
  3. Rhyming is also up to you and always a great way to jazz up some writing.
  4. Keep things on the clean side for general audiences of a more mature nature (PG).
  5. Just MAKE US LAUGH. I want the hot coffee-spiller who licked the wrong side of the velcro whilst removing the tag on her pillow to have tears streaming down her face from your attempts.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (September 18) 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 fun!

—–

©2020 Chel Owens, including photograph

WINNER of the Very First A Mused Poetry Contest

Welcome, one and all, to the best source of funny poetry on the web! (If not, it very soon will be…)

We had several fine entrants on the subject of Eccentrics, and the winner is:

Untitled, by Richmond Road
An embarrassing mess was my brother
With one leg that was short. Not the other
Which made this eccentric
Walk in circles concentric
Causing constant distress to our mother

Richmond Road won for being the funniest and most limerickest. Basically, I laughed the most.

But his wasn’t the only one to elicit a few, painful snickers. Read the others and see:

Untitled, by Dumbest Blogger
There was a young boy with a poker
Who ate an extremely large porker
He burped quite a bit
And then licking his lips
He swallowed the cow in the clover

Untitled, by TanGental
To be considered a true eccentric
Don’t dye your hair or develop a tic
Forget the multi-coloured spats
And avoid wearing tweedy hats.
Keep a steady gaze and be authentic.

Untitled, by Matt Snyder
at night across the rooftops ran a kid named Matt
without a stitch of clothes on his person, he was also quite fat
Perhaps it was the thrill
of being caught by a girl
Instead he was adored by a cat

A Paean To The Patron Of Poor Poetry, by Obbverse
Now expired William Topaz McGonagall was our inspirations name,
His well-intended worthless words Will was all too wont to proclaim,
But Willy’s laboured literary constructions sat ill-fittingly,
Serious tragedies becoming comedies, albeit unwittingly,
Eternally re-nouned as the worlds poorest poet, to his undying shame.

Lug Nut, by Obbverse
His Mum remained inanely chatty and cheerful
Even as Vinnie grew quiet, depressed, then tearful,
Vin had suffering in silence down to an fine art
So Mrs Van Gogh found the the real crazy part
Was when Vinnie cut her off only to give her an earful.

Untitled, by Gary
I am English and I am most certainly very eccentric
I drive a car the shape of a teapot but don’t worry, it’s electric
I have a fine collection of pink britches with matching bowler hats
Let’s not forget I live underground with my cross dressing pampered cats
And pray tell what’s wrong shopping in a musical codpiece when it’s authentic

Here ya go!, by Ruth Scribbles
There once was an eccentric old lady
Who was said to be really quite crazy
An obnoxious artist she was
And extremely heartless because
She was left at the altar all lacy

Untitled, by Michael Fishman
Henry wanted his in-laws to leave
So he sneezed really loud in his sleeve
The in-laws, abhorred,
to the door they rushed toward.
And a sigh of joy Henry did heave.

—–

Thanks to everyone who entered. Please return on the morrow for next week’s prompt! Tell your friends! Tell your acquaintances! Tell your mom!

Hey, RR, here’s a brand-spanking new badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

Bring on the Rain

“I am in control!” She screams, gripping fists of invisibility so hard she feels what’s left of fingernails digging against her palms. Forget the past; forget what Steve or Phil or Jack or even James -if that was his name- said. “I am in control!”

Forces more powerful than any touched by man answer, without words. Pushing, tearing, whipping the lake’s edge against her -her, a small, insignificant figure to challenge God’s great breath.

“I am -” she gasps, “in control!” Spray and tears stream down her face;
wipe clean
spray
clear

Till, beckoned by her challenge, the sky-fall comes.

Inspired by Carrot Ranch‘s prompt, high winds:

September 3, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about high winds. It can be on land, sea or in outer space. Who is facing the wind or protected from it? Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by September 8, 2020. Use the comment section [on the site] 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.

©2020 Chelsea Owens

The NEW Weekly A Mused Poetry Contest 9/5 – 9/11/2020

Welcome to the our new poetry contest! Hilarity is our goal; funniness, laughable lines, hilarious rhymes -amusement!

Where once I told everyone to write terrible poetry, I now tell you to write terrible poetry with the intent to make us all laugh:

  1. The Topic is eccentrics. Collector, streaker, hermit, or superhero? I read about the British variety in Henry Hemming’s In Search of the English Eccentric and now I’m hooked!
  2. The Length will be a limerick. How else would you poem about eccentrics?? A limerick is five lines: AABBA, in anapestic meter.
  3. Rhyme? Naturally -unless that would run against your hero’s …idiom.
  4. Don’t worry too much about the details! Wake up at 2 a.m. from the strangest dream you’ve ever had, roll over to your notepad to write it down, then turn it in as poetry the next morning.
  5. Keep the Rating at PG or cleaner.You’re too clever to stoop to crass jibes for humor. I know it.

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (September 11) 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 fun! I insist!

 

 

Photo by RF._.studio from Pexels

©2020 Chel Owens

A Tall Walk Under Eaves

You wouldn’t know
Each kissing bough
Avoids by hair’s-breadth’s swing;
Re-swing.

Delicious how
Obtaining now
Combed-straightness
Under branchèd reach;
My height-blessed friend
Enters the arboreal arch –
Now christened such by
Traipsing squirr’ls
Sent scurrying.

He stands and smiles;
Opens the whiles,
Whene’er he walks the path.

isham-krb-msHrSQls4_I-unsplash

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Photo by Isham Krb on Unsplash

Acrostically cobbled together for Di of Pensitivity’s Three Things Challenge.