Humor, Poetry

All posts in the Humor, Poetry category

I’M A POET AND DIDN’T KNOW IT

Published September 28, 2022 by Nan Mykel

 

 

I’m looking for a poem-

Anything that qualifies.

As they pop up I reject them.

But who am I to be so picky?

Only the poet, not the Muse.

 

She–for she’s a she,

I know it–doesn’t

discriminate  but spits them

out one, two, three. She’ll

be the death of me, I know it.

 

Tripping lightly through the words

Stilted language for the birds

Stomping heavy through the verbs

Hidey ho and Camelot.

You name it she’ll write it.

 

Three whole verses, is that enough?

Critics can be kinda tough.

Pillow’s waiting, I must go

Tomorrow’s another day

They say,

and I hope.

Balderdash

Published July 22, 2018 by Nan Mykel

TO RHYME OR NOT TO RHYME..

Aye, that’s the rub

Should the slings and arrows

Of outrageous fellows

Line my tub

With dumb marshmellows?

 

Take all your contumely fardels

And also shining hills and dells–

And quietus! Quietus I say,

Let come out whatever may.

 

But that’s the impetus for verse–

Could written words be much worse?

If just plain saying it is too dumb

Try tic-tac-toe and chewing gum.

 

The Long and the Short of It

Published July 25, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Life’s too short

Tooth’s too long

Horses snort

Answer’s wrong.

Eyes too bright

Pool’s too deep

Bra’s too tight

He’s too cheap.

Sky’s too high

Feet too smelly

Words can lie

Too tight belly

Stream beds trickle

chewing gum sticks

I’m in a pickle

Up to old tricks.

Lost my keys

This won’t do

Down on my knees

Should get two

Don’t say pome

Only a verse

Come on home

Could be worse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

POEM BEGINNINGS …

Published April 15, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Pulling your hair only hurts your head–

that’s what grandma always said.

 

If you can’t say something nice,

then tell the truth said cousin Ruth.

 

The parole

of the troll

who stole

the payroll

won’ last long.

 

Sticks and stones

may break my bones

said brother Jones,

but words can really

piss me off!

ON MY BOOKSHELF

Published February 26, 2017 by Nan Mykel

Arrrrrggghh!  I see I’ve already posted this. Don’t know what to do about it but try harder next time to  pay attention to what I’m doing…horrified-emoticon

 

 

On my bookshelf you can see

my inner self revealed to thee.

Maybe Hen’s Teeth and Horse’s  Toes

won’t go far to show you me,

but Frames of Mind should give a hint

of where my time is largely spent.

Crack in the Cosmic Egg is from

an elderly college alum

who still values Games People Play

and Alan Watts any old day.a

User Illusion blew my mind

also Denial of Death in its kind,

and I include for brilliance

the author of Concilience.

Sheldon Kopp told me what to do

if Buddha I should run into,

while The Dream and the Underworld 

gave me frights, sanity a whirl.

And here’s an old one we all knew

none other than Miss Nancy Drew.

So now you know me stem to stern.

What can I expect from you in turn?

LITTLE BOY WITH A DOG’S TAIL

Published June 26, 2016 by Nan Mykel

The following was written by me  62 years ago.  I’ve been going through old stuff prior to having a new carpet installed, and came across this. I  had sent it to the editor of a children’s magazine and it was rejected with a concern for children’s castration fears!

One time there was a little lad

who cried because he was so sad.

Don’t you dare call him a sissy,

My little Mister and Missy!

 

Because you would cry, too, I’ll bet

If, looking very close, you met

Yourself waving, in the mirror,

A doggie’s tail, covered with fur!

 

That’s just why this dear little boy,

Looking at it, lost all his joy.

He knew people would laugh and shout

When his doggie tail waved about.

 

He cried, “Oh, Mommy! Cut it off!

I’ll have no doggie tail, by troth!”

His mother opened her eyes wide

And smiled when she his tail espied.

 

“Why, cut off your lovely dog tail?

Indeed, you make my old heart fail!

No other boy can e’re maintain

Such a nice royal, shaggy train!”

 

The boy stood straight and laughed aloud;

He stroked the tail and looked real proud.

Said he, “Yes! I can use it for

Climbing up our old Sycamore!”

 

And whenever someone laughed at him,

He smiled a small pitying grin–

As if to say “You poor, poor boy,

You have no dog tail to bring joy!”

 

And later on the tail dropped off–

(He sneezed and coughed a too-big cough)

And you know, I really believe

He was sorry the tail did leave!

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