Rooster Rooster

Just For Fun

Rooster Rooster

Peck peck peck

Why is there a comb above your neck?

You have no hair upon your head

Why don’t you use a brush instead?


Rooster Rooster 

Scratch scratch scratch

When are your children going to hatch?

What’s the point of having you stay

If you’ll let your bloodline die away?


Rooster Rooster

Cluck cluck cluck

Who let your brood-hens run amuck?

There’s hawks and rats and fox out there

They’ll soon leave your chicken coop bare.


Rooster Rooster

Fluff fluff fluff

You apparently don’t know your stuff

If you don’t get your butt in gear

I’ll soon give you something to fear!


I’ll give you to KFC you little chicken nugget

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just for fun

weirdo's at walmart!

Weirdo’s At Wal-Mart



There are many kinds of people to see out there

But don’t read any further if this news you can't bare

These shoppers you see might pushing that cart

But these strangers we see might be weirdo’s at Wal-Mart

As you walk in that shopper’s hell you'll see many faces

And the ones to watch out for are from all different races

They’ll wear goofy clothes and might think its art

That’s when you know there are weirdo’s at Wal-Mart

Some will be large and wear tight things

And when you see them your eyes will water and sting

That’s when you'll wanna smack them for having no heart

And then run like hell from those weirdo’s at Wal-Mart.


                           Zoeycup 16

Author's Notes/Comments: 

hey fellow poet's i thought i'd try a funny poem let me know what you think???

( this is not meant to hurt anyone its just for fun i myself am a wierdo who goes to Walmart lol)

                                                         Zoeycup 16


this is in a series i wrote 5 and am working on number 6

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Zeppelin Repair

It’s a job I’m tasked with, and did I ask for it?

Eventually, yes… But not at first! My thirst

for such delicate work, at its absolute worst,

was forcefully unheeded and ignored for fear

that years would go by, and I’ll have learned nothing else.

But when I first felt canvas drawn over wire;

that sloping structure formed from piled flesh that breathes,

I knew that I could make my home there in between;

working to keep her aloft, should the engines fail.

My scope paled when compared to the reality;

faced with such size and shape, I just gaped and stuttered;

under spells like none ever uttered by a witch,

but of the recesses of the mind that bind you

when something incomprehensible rears and brays.

It was in this daze, I was enabled to grasp

and lift the shuttered clasp that caged these great balloons;

festooned by patterns and lace, made to seem graceful

in spite of the poisoned airspace they occupy,

the gravity they defy and the many eyes

they tend to draw while bounding across great, blue skies.

It’s been some time and my assignment has run dry.

I miss my days, nestling in the repair bays,

but have little say in when I might be deployed.

And though I’ve enjoyed some vessels over others,

what matters is that I’m smothered and left in awe

by magnitude, immensity, function and flaw;

visible through windows and doorways in the crawl.

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