HUMOR IN VERSE

HELL TO THE CHIEF by Chuck Sullivan

Hell to the chief,
Now is the time,
To rid the White House
Of that presidential slime.

I am sure now that he
definitely did inspire,
The phrase we have all heard,
Liar, liar pants on fire.

What this nation needs now
is to have his residence vacated,
and to bring in the Orkin man
to have the White House fumigated.

OUT OF GAS by Chuck Sullivan

Two nuns traveling across country,
Had been traveling much too fast,
Their speeding affected their milage,
and they soon ran out of gas.

One nun spied a farm house,
not too far up the way,
And said, “We might find some gas there,
let us hope and pray.”

Well the farmer had plenty of gas,
but had nothing to put it in.
except for a bed pan,
That he had borrowed from a friend.

With the bedpan full they returned to their car,
and were in the process of putting in the gas,
A Baptist preacher stopped to look,
at what was just too good to pass.

“I know little about your religion,” said he,
“But I feel compelled to say,
You have the strongest faith that I have seen,
In many and many a day.”

THE MAGIC FROG by Chuck Sullivan

It all began when I decide to play,
a round of golf on a beautiful day,
On one of the holes when I was selecting a club,
I hear, “don’t use that one, use the 9 iron Bub.”

I didn’t know where the sound came from,
There was a frog by my bag, but I ain’t that dumb.
Then the frog spoke again, this was no gag,
So I naturally I took the 9 iron out of the bag.

I hit my approach and lo and behold,
my ball ended up inches from the hole,
I looked at the ball and said “well I’ll be damn.”
“You must be a magic frog.” The frog said, “I am.”

I picked the frog up, “you’re going with me.”
“let’s see what you can do on this next tee.
I reached for my driver but before I could get it,
The frog said, “Don’t use that club to hit it.”

“What you want here is your trusty 3 wood.”
So I took it’s advice and hit it as far as I could.
I watched the ball soar, and when it was done,
It rolled into the cup, I’d hit a hole in one!

Well I didn’t even finish playing the round,
I picked the little frog up off the ground.
“Well what is next”, the little frog said.
“Las Vegas, said I, and off we sped.

We got to Las Vegas and I broke the bank,
I now have millions and the frog to thank.
We spent the night in a lavish hotel,
And I thought things were going real well,

“How can I repay you?” I’m scratching my head.
“I want you to kiss me” the little frog said.
I owed the frog so much so what else could I do
but kiss the little frog like it asked me to.

When I kissed the frog it vanished and standing there,
was a beautiful fifteen year old girl and this I swear.
That’s how she came to be in my room last night.
Judge, I sure hope this clears things up all right.

AMERICANS! by Chuck Sullivan

The setting is back in World War II,
It’s about a battle weary, G.I. Joe.
Who wanted to spend his R&R,
In old England don’t you know,

Well he crossed the English channel,
and caught a train that was London bound,
There were no empty seats on the train,
‘Cept for an old lady and her hound.

The dog was right beside her,
Taking up a seat that he could use,
He would ask her if he could have that seat,
Surely she wouldn’t refuse.

Well this lady was really insulted,
“You Americans are so crude,
No! You can’t have my doggies seat,
To ask me is so rude.”

He said, I’m battle weary mam,
In fact I’m almost dead,
I’ve been three months on the front,
without a pillow or a bed.

I’ve got two dogs at home mam,
I love dogs and cats and such,
If I could hold your dog and sit,
I’d be obliged very much.

“You Americans are so obnoxious,
I could care less if you’re almost dead.
My little doggie is such a dear,
This is her seatand she’s staying right here.

With this he reached the boiling point,
He was over come by the the heat,
Out the open window, he threw the dog,
and immediately took the doggies seat.

Observing, was a neat old English man,
He said, “Americans aren’t easy to understand,”
“I don’t agree with the lady’s assement of you,”
“There is however, one thing that is true.”

“You Americans do so many things wrong,
I hope Sir, that you might explain,
why you drive on the wrong side, eat with the wrong hand,
and why you threw the wrong bitch, off of the train.”

TRUE LOVE by Chuck Sullivan

She wasn't much to look at,
Her personality was nil,
She wasn’t the kind of girl,
that would give you a thrill.

Her father was a moonshiner,
With his business on a hill,
but none of this bothered me,
For I love her STILL!

OUTBACK WITH A TEXAN by Chuck Sullivan

This is a story about a Texan
And his visit to Australia land,
where a perfect squelch occurred,
that had never been planned.

He came to do some sight seeing,
In an area which was remote,
Around Alice Springs where boat races
are conducted in bottomless boats.

One morning he ventured out
around the break of day,
With a guide who was to show him,
many sights along the way.

Every time the guide,
would point out something new,
things were bigger and better in Texas,
which we all know this is true.

It didn’t matter what the guide showed him,
whether huge rocks, fauna or flora,
It was always bigger and better in Texas,
To this Australian guide’s horror.

Well by and by, among some rocks,
they paused for a little rest,
When out popped big red kangaroo,
and he hopped over Texas’ best.

The Texan said “what was that!’
‘cause it was a real eye popper.
Don’t tell me in Texas, the guide replied,
You don’t have the grasshopper?

UGLY LAIGS by Chuck Sullivan

I seen Sally Mae the other day,
And her laigs wuz as ugly as they could be,
She had got herself two big tattoos,
One wuz put upon each knee.

She thought it'd make her legs more purty,
and'er reasonin' wern't hard to follow,
‘cause the Lord knows that Sally Mae,
Has the ugliest laigs in the hollow.

She wuz a’figurin’ the tattoos
if put on'er knees just might,
divert poeple's eyes away,
from such'n ugly sight.

On her left knee wuz a tattoo of the Chicago Fire,
On the other knee wuz the devil in his full attire.
But them tattoos ain’t worked out all that well,
“Cuz when she crosses her laigs, it looks like hell!

ITS’ HAPPENED TO ME by Chuck Sullivan

Did you ever stop to think
and never start again?
I thought this kind of thing
happens to all old men, (and women too)

Ever walk into a room
and wonder why you're there,
You know you came after something
but give up in despair.

Or start to introduce a friend
and then can't recall their name.
When you've known the person all your life,
Now that is really lame.

It's all so frustrating
but if I believe what I've been told,
It's something we all must accept
when one is growing old.

There are lots of things I once could do
that I can do no more,
And some of the things I can do,
have now become a chore,

I guess we should be thankful
that we can do the things we can,
Considering the alternative,
getting old is a dandy plan.

THE LAWYER AND THE CORONER by Chuck Sullivan

An attorney was questioning the coroner,
When the brash lawyer said,
“Did you check the pulse of the deceased,
before you pronounced him dead.”

This incensed the coroner,
and his face turned beet red,
In a very disgusted manner
the coroner just shook his head.

“Surely you checked his breathing,”
The lawyer then inquired.
“No” exclaimed the coroner,
with an expression uninspired.

“Did you check for a heart beat,”
The coroner said, “not at all,”
“Then how could pronounce him dead?
How could you make that call?”

That last question was the last straw,
The coroner got urinated,
He put that lawyer in his place,
and with a straight he face related.

The man’s brain is on my desk,
in a bottled stored with care,
And for all I know the man in question,
is out practicing law somewhere.

PUBLISHIN' POETRY by Chuck Sullivan

I once published a book of verse,
and this is what I found,
It’s much like dropping a feather,
and trying to hear it hit the ground.

Or to express the thought another way,
It seems the way things go,
Is like dropping a leaf into a canyon,
and waiting for an echo.

If you expect to get rich,
On any book of rhyme,
Trust me when I tell you,
“Not in this life time.”

AN OBSERVATION by Chuck Sullivan

“It’s not how big it is,
or how much pleasure it will bring,
How long will it last,
that’s the most important thing.”

This quote I overheard,
It was not made by me,
It was made by a young lady,
Who was buying a new P.C.

ONE OF THE VOCAL MINORITIES by Chuck Sullivan

“I might not always be right
|but I am never wrong.”
We have all heard or said
this quote for so darn long.

In turning around the saying
some women do delight,
“Men may not always be wrong
but they are never right.”

That comes from a vocal minority
of the women of our day,
They would rid the world of men
if they could only find a way,

They encourage female headaches
and I think that you will find,
That the pain they cause in men
are lower down.... and behind.

BOARD GAMES by Chuck Sullivan

If I ever enjoyed a board game,

It is not something I recall,

Because the word board in board game,

For me, just says it all!

CONSIDER THE SOURCE by Chuck Sullivan

When people say unkind things,
or slander me even worse,
I always salvage my feelings,
by just considering the source.

"I appreciate your slander" I say,
" honestly, I really do,"
Considering how the unkind words,
only came from you.

But to put it in perspective,
what I really meant,
Is an insult from a source of ignorance,
is really just a compliment.

IT'S A WOMAN'S WORLD by Chuck Sullivan

If you engage in sexy talk
with the woman of today,
She’ll charge sexual harassment,
for which you’re sure to pay.

On the other hand if she speaks to the man,
In the same sexy way,
It’s $2.98 per minute,
So they’ve got you either way.

THE OBITUARY by Chuck Sullivan

At breakfast this morning I was reading the obits,
When I ran across my own name, right there in black & white,
I wanted to avoid wrong impressions one might get,
So I reached for the telephone and began to set things right.

The chairman of the board, was my very first concern,
I didn’t want to be the one to cause his heart attack,
But he had read of my demise, as I was soon to learn,
It was the ensuing conversation that really set me back.

I asked him if he had read the morning paper yet,
I was surprised at his answer which really left me numb,
He had seen it already and his answer was, “You bet!”
“I am curious he asked, ”Which place you calling from?”

All of the poems listed above were copyrighted in 1998 and will appear in the soon to be
published "Poems For Poem Haters.. The Humorous Side"

When at last the cold war ended,
Russia was permitted to trade,
With the countries of the free world,
Even buy things American made.

A Texas factory received from Russia,
An order by and by,
They were interested in the Texas product,
Fifty thousand they wanted to try,

The specifications were absolute,
The eleven inches must be exact,
Or the whole lot would be rejected,
And they would all be coming back,

So the factory from Texas complied,
and took pains to label them all,
On each of the fifty thousand condoms,
was a stamp that labeled them SMALL

A youngster with his grandpa was a'visitin' at the zoo,
When he asked his PaPaw," why dat lion do what he do?"
It seemed the lion would beat his chest and then lick his backside,
Not knowin' why dat lion did dat it forced him to confide.
"Son, I don't know why dat lion appears to act so crazy,
But there's the zookeep, he'll know, since I'm a little hazy,"
"Mr. Zookeep, Tell me why dat lion act like he do."
Mr. Zookeep says "I'll tell you why and this is sho nuf true.

Yesterday dat Texan wuz pokin' his cane into the cage,
That wuz pretty dumb because dat lion became enraged,
Well the lion reached through the bars and pulled the Texan in,
He ate him all, spit nothing out and burped loudly with a grin."
Well now the lion beats his chest to rid his system of the gas,
And to rid his mouth of the bad taste, the lion now licks his ass."

*Note: The above poem was written in fun from an Okie to a Texan with a
challenge to write a response from a Texan to an Okie. The Challenge was
accepted by Perry Williams and the following poem was his response.

Ol' Chuck he couldn't understand
'Bout that Oklahoma lion
Who gobbled up a Texas boy
And thought he tasted fine

But then he had some problems
And was frettin' and a fume'n
Due to rumblin's that he had
Some deep down in his rumen

Well Chuck, the reason that yore lion
Is actin' like a lepper
Is 'cause that good old Texas boy
Ate too much chili pepper!

He found that water just don't work
And pard, that is no foolin'
So that pore hombre had to use
...His tongue, to do the coolin'!!!

*Note: Perry Williams is a cowboy poet and is the author of the recently
released book "Tracks In The Sand" If you like humor you'll love this one.

This is a story about a Texan
And his visit to Australia land,
where a perfect squelch occurred,
that had never been planned.

He came to do some sight seeing,
In an area which was remote,
Around Alice Springs where boat races
are conducted in bottomless boats.

One morning he ventured out
around the break of day,
With a guide who was to show him,
many sights along the way.

Every time the guide,
would point out something new,
things were bigger and better in Texas,
which we all know this is true.

It didn't matter what the guide showed him,
whether huge rocks, fauna or flora,
It was always bigger and better in Texas,
To this Australian guide's horror.

Well by and by, among some rocks,
they paused for a little rest,
When out popped big red kangaroo,
and he hopped over Texas' best.

The Texan said "what was that!'
`cause it was a real eye popper.
Don't tell me in Texas, the guide replied,
You don't have the grasshopper?

I ain't no French expert,
but I do know deja vu,
and now there's a new one out,
that they call deja moo.

If it's true, that daja moo,
means I've heard that bull before,
Since Oklahoma borders Texas,
Okies git deja moo galore!

1
How is an attorney and sperm alike?
It's not a complicated thing,
`Cause they both have one chance in a million,
Of ever becoming a human being.

2
Why are mice balls so small?
Perhaps you've wondered too,
Is it by chance, the mice that dance,
Are among the very few?

3
Old King Cole was fond of cabbage,
so he sent out a decree,
That cabbage must only be made,
a certain way you see,

Now, mayonnaise must be mixed
with shredded cabbage and carrots raw,
Could it be, that that decree,
Is now know as Cole's Law?

This is a dandy rule,
if you would just obey it,
If you wouldn't write it and sign it,
For heavens sake don't say it!

Do write and fear no man,
Observe this to the letter,
Don't write and fear no woman,
This rule is even better.

Writing poems is easy, I do it all the time,
I start off with a rythym and then I make it ryme
I'll admit I have a problem getting words spelled right,
My punctuations shameful and my grammers just a sight.

And mostly when I write, I have nothing much to say,
Which really aint unusual with our writers of today,
Thats why those nasty critics will never get me down,
I'm as good at saying nothing as anyone around.

I guess thats all I got to say, this poem is almost through,
The verses are complete, there's just one thing left to do,
And that's to sign this work of art like any artist would,
But after reading what I wrote I just don't think I should!

By Ann Onymous

I was flying my kite one very windy day.
It was spinning round and round in a careless kind of way,
From my wife at the window, I heard this screeching yell,
"Hey dumb-dumb!, what you need is a little more tail!",
Well if that didn't frost me, it was only last night,
That I asked her and she told me to go fly a kite!

I took a dollar bill, the first I ever earned,
I put it in a ten cent frame and this is what I learned.
Something strange happened with the passing of time,
Now the frame is worth a dollar and the dollar's worth a dime.

The speakers say nothing, yet they chatter all the day,
What they do say doesn't matter, no one listens any way,
And when the day is over, what really puzzles me,
Is why the hell they never fail, to all disagree!

The desire's still there, but to my despair,
It grieves me to disclose,
What once was shared,
With lovin' care, is but a water hose.

New Zealand is magnificent,
With fauna and flora supreme,
With it's beautiful mountains and waterways,
And it's many breathtaking scenes.
But there is one plant that's popular there,
Of which I am definitely not a fan,
For I will be happy if I never see,
Broccoli on my plate again!

When I first saw Alice Springs,
I though it was the friendliest place,
'Til I learned the reason for the waving,
Was to shoo the flies from their face.

Porky Pig by Chuck Sullivan

My name is P-p-porky Pig,
I'm t-teased for my affliction,
I have a little t-trouble ,
In the area of my d-d-diction.
So go ahead and t-tease me,
and m-make your little jokes,
While I get rich and f-famous,
Just saying, "Th-thats all folks."

Oh Ginger, Oh Ginger, you mean so much, how devoted you seem to be,
With that silky hair I love to touch, you mean so much to me.
When I get home your're always there, waiting eagerly at the door,
If I am late you never care, where some wives would get sore.
You listen to every word I say, you would never interrupt.
And you're there for me when I want to play, you're as playful as a pup.
Your beauty makes me proud too, who could ask for more,
Than have a shelty dog like you meet me at the door.

On the subject of retirement, my advice to any man,
Is don't put off retirement, retire as soon as you can.
If you are considering retirement, I advise you not to wait,
It is better to retire too early, than it is to retire too late.

I saw this sign on a church marquee,
I was amused by it's wit,
It said "Make an excuse if you must,
but avoid using it".

I didn't bring a present,
I hope you understand,
But poetry I've got plenty of,
And my money is in demand,
So have a happy birthday,
And here's a thought for you to keep,
Choose some friends along the way,
Who aren't so broke and cheap!

I am your computer,your wish is my command,
But I am not infallible, I hope you understand,
Sometimes my files become corrupt, that's why I hope and pray,
That you will back up the work you do, each and every day,
And don't get mad at me, when things go awry,
I can not think of everything, even though I try,
Don't take me for granted and you will avoid despair,
Just treat me like a loved one, with lots of love and care.

When 6O is the age you are,
Just thank the Lord you got this far,
I hope with all the things you've done,
You had a chance to have some fun.

As for sex in the 6O's do not despair,
Be more concerned with the loss of your hair,
For sex I am told takes care of itself,
Focus instead on the state of your health.

Well I won't buy in to any of this,
Sixty is not that old,
I refuse to let it bother me,
In spite of what I am told.

If I am over the hill,
I am not concerned a bit,
As long as I am over the hill,
I am not residing under it.

Stacy May By: Grandpa Sullivan

Steven Russell Sullivan,
That was to be his name,
I knew he'd be a boy,
Till the moment that he came,
But plumbing he was missing,
What more can I say,
It was exit Steven Russell,
And enter Stacy May,
But when I cast my eyes,
On that precious little girl,
I knew she now, meant more to me,
Than all the boys in the world,

Born 1/31/90
8 lbs 1/2 oz
20 inches

There are people who don't like poetry,
I write this poem for them,
What prompted me to write it?
Let's just call it a whim.

I was once like the rest of you,
When I first started out,
But then I didn't know,
What poetry was all about.

Poems need not be high brow,
Sophisticated or deep,
It's just a way of writing down,
Those thoughts you want to keep.

Poems don't need to rhyme,
But I only like the ones that do,
It's a way to look at many things,
In a somewhat different view.

So if you don't like poetry,
I think that you will find,
If you write some poems yourself,
You just might change your mind.

Whether you will like my poems,
Is a subject for debate,
But I know you'll think your poetry,
Is nothing less than great.

The Lord gave us two ends,
Success may hinge on the one we choose,
There's the sittin' and the thinkin' end,
It's heads we win and tails we loose.

When I was young, my birthdays
seemed so far between,
And that day was monumental,
When I was in my teens.

Now I'm in my sixties,
And I often wonder why,
The day has less importance,
And the years are flying by.

Since I been gettin' social security, I'm here to tell you what,
It seems to affect everything I do, `Cause I've sure slowed down a lot.

I think it's a government conspiracy to thin us senior citizens out,
And I intend to get to the bottom of this and what this is all about.

Since that first check arrived, I noticed it right away,
That just from playing tennis, my muscles are sore the next day.

I think that it saps my energy and my motivation too.
And that seems to interfere with all the things I like to do.

And I've noticed lately that my knees squeak as I walk,
And at times I forget what I want to say, when I open my mouth to talk.

Then there been a few new spaces in my upper and lower jaw,
And if I was to take my glasses off I could no longer see what I saw.

The only thing it hasn't affected, is I still have an abundance of hair,
More government inefficiency I guess or they would surely have started there.

Since I been gettin' that check, things haven't been going that well,
I just know that Social Security is the culprit sure as hell.

I should just send the money back but it's always been my rule,
Not to give my money away, hey my Ma didn't raise no fool.

I ain't found the answer yet so it's still a mystery to me,
But I ain't ruling out that it's a government conspiracy.

Everyone is plagued by fears and my fear is addictions,
To be hooked on anything is the mother of afflictions.

A multitude of smokers go through the quitting bit,
And only a small percentage ever have the will to quit.

For example there's alcoholics who battle every day,
To gather up the strength to push that drink away,

This country's hard drug users pose a problem very real,
Even descent folks one hooked will lie, cheat or steal.

Then one day this accusation was made by my wife,
That my computer and the internet dominates my life,

To obviate her claim drastic measures must be taken,
My computer, I knew, must regretfully be forsaken.

I checked off the internet, my screen was dark and dreary,
I pulled the plug on my old friend, with feelings sad and teary.

I knew I wasn't addicted, It was just a habit only,
But why all the emptiness, I'd never been so lonely.

I lasted over three weeks but couldn't stretch to four,
I couldn't stand the boredom for another moment more,

I plugged her in and turned her on, and cast aside my fears,
Just listening to her boot up was such music to my ears.

I don't know if I'm hooked, but there is one thing I do know,
If there's ever a computers anonymous I'm sure I need to go!

JUSTICE OF THE PEACE by Chuck Sullivan

Justice of the Peace is a misnomer,

It couldn't have been named more wrong,

For you see I happened to be married by one,

And I haven't had peace for so damn long.

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