Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1416627-A-Bunch-of-Baddies
by Joy
Rated: 13+ · Other · Comedy · #1416627
A bad bunch from my posts in Katya's forum..One star or under, pretty please.
A bunch of bad poetry written in lightning speed right into "One Night in Margaritaville posts. I think, with this item, I just stole from my own posts. *Laugh*

. I .

Reindeer Poop
                    Haiku chain

Drink up laced eggnog
Party, whoop, poop, swoop, and gag
Santa has deadlines

Eight maids a-milking
Roasting on an open fire
a Christmas quickie

Frosty the snowman
Rudolf the red-nosed pickle
Can egg-nog with elves


Humping Along

Hours tick away trying,
I feel like crying;
the days may hump along
but the weeks go fast flying.

Appointments amass.
Forget about demitasse.
My Dorothy has left for Oz,
and I think I'll pass gas.



I poked the bloke,
but the nurse spoke
making a joke
poking fun
at managed care
making the MD
to poke more
into me.
Pokamon animations
eat your heart out.



Mucus says in its slimy fashion,
"Do not complain if your nose
is bigger than your brain.
So, why call me names,
like snot and boogers.
Instead, stop
tiptoeing through the tulips or
smelling the roses.
Like the toad that you are,
bulge your eyes,
stick out your tongue,
and lick me up, so
you won't be called
the snotty one."


Spring forward...

If this concerns time, I have to rhyme,
for I'm of the late-nighter sort,
and my sleep is cut short,
and the clock may have gained a tick
but lost the tock, making my day stick.

Thus, you spring forward; I fall aback.
My boobies, they know how to hang low.
The moral is, if you hang low,
you don't frown, you take the blow;

If Katya bounces and falls on Bill,
guess who is the roadkill.


Over the Hill

I'm not over the hill, you see,
but the hill is running after me.

"I feel quite good,"
I say, "Knock on wood!"
and hurt my knuckle
knocking on wood.

Then I go open the door
"No one's there!"
It was me knocking
on something wooden...
what? I can't remember.

Are we in February
Or is it December?
Still, "Knock on wood,
My memory is good."

If so...
Why am I in the supermarket?
What am I doing here now?
Did someone steal my car?
It drove itself so far.
Why is it not
at the east side of the parking lot?

Talking of cars...
It used to be
youngster drivers
would get
the best of me.

Now, the young'uns curse at me
quipping something
about Stonehenge,
and I smirk.
How's that for revenge? *Laugh*

© Copyright 2008 Joy (joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1416627-A-Bunch-of-Baddies