Humor

Costume Parties by Fiat? by Julian Woodruff ‘Round nearly vacant lots The cars grow fewer still. No traffic tied in knots, No malls in which to mill. The numbers in the market Are smaller day by day. The orders are to park it, Camped at our homes to stay. More...

  Dulcius Ex Asperis by Andrew Ross Invisible and terrible A virus stalks the land. It floats across the atmosphere And moves from man to man. A tickle in the throat perhaps, A muted sneeze to start. A dying gasp, The poisoned asp, It still remains as we depart. A...

  Time Is the Measure of Every Pleasure a coronavirus limerick by Mark F. Stone The State took a stand that we practice techniques to maintain our distance and clean till it squeaks. But can such a stance bring a halt to romance? Perchance we'll know more in about forty...

  Personae and scene: Vergil and Dante, somewhere in the mid-region of Hell. Dante: Honored Vergil, tell me where we’re going— It’s hard for me to take in what you’re showing Without some preparation. I can’t deal With shocking sights that make my blood congeal. Already I’m a quaking nervous...

  Chapter I Who sings of arms these days? Or even men? The seed of Adam’s tucked inside Eve’s apple, And sits not taking root—his defect’s been Apparent since equality’s long grapple. Poor Satan garners sympathy and tears: He was oppressed, a proletarian So cruelly cast from heaven’s privileged spheres...

    Battle of the Bib Emma was wearing a new autumn dress. Papa snapped on her bib, to prevent a mess— oatmeal was planned at her special request But a tranquil breakfast was not to be. She waved her teaspoon like a machete And yanked at the bib to...

  The Last Words from Her Phone The CCP (Chinese Communist Party) has done everything within their power to expunge Dr. Ai Fen's interview off the Internet, and now she herself is gone, the last message on her phone in Chinese: "a river, a bridge, a clock chime." Also disappeared...

Foolosophy I know that I know nothing more than you, for neither of us know a single thing of relevance; I opt not to accrue vast knowledge as the price is danger’s sting. All blissful days are built on ignorance, so I forego the chance to grow aware, maintaining vacant-brained...

  Don’t Get Caught The catfish and the trout hum different tunes, But both agree they love hot afternoons When no one wants to fish, when ponds and streams And rivers generate aquatic dreams That never end, and surely never end With either one, as evening shades descend, Dead-center on...

  Pestilence Killed Them by James Sale The Pestilence killed them So the Proverb said, And with that happy thought They laid down in their bed. The Pestilence killed them--- Who else could it be? They were not responsible: He came like destiny. The Pestilence killed them, Disease like death...

  Cruising down an LA freeway, hustling for a little leeway Passing many a rusted relic from Detroit's Plutonian shore. Hoping all would turn to see me, knowing all would want to be me Driving in my Beemer dreamy-eyed, contented to my core. With my canvas top popped open and...

Note: The Society of Classical Poets refers to the COVID-19 coronavirus as the CCP virus because the Chinese Communist Party’s coverup and mismanagement allowed the virus to spread throughout China and create a global pandemic.   Thirteen Famous Poems (Updated for the Quarantine) by Rob Crisell   Kilmer I think...

  Bill Butler made a shopping trip each Friday, to the town, Astride his silver bicycle he’d purchased for a crown; For this was many years ago when pace of life was slow And cars were deemed a luxury for Sunday drives, and show; Not meant for simple bachelors with...

by James A. Tweedie The form of the “brief” ordinarily consists of a couplet of anapestic tetrameter with the first soft beat of each line clipped off (x / xx / xx / xx /). The anapest, which functions very much like a dactyl, is meant to evoke a sense...

  Carmen Cygni, a Retourne She holds the sickle and the scythe, Dark clothed and hooded, glimpse of white. A dancer languorous but lithe, She stands between the day and night. Dark clothed and hooded glimpse of white, Peitho beguiles by danse charnelle. She calls defiant, but contrite As fears...

  Pearls of Wisdom in Times of Crisis by Susan Jarvis Bryant Pearl clutchers of the world, please take a breath: take time to breathe the balm of calm’s bouquet; let rasping gasps of anguish slip away--- not everything you hear is life or death. Pearl clutchers of the world,...

  He has spent a shower of hours obtaining power and glowers from bigwigs in Ukraine--- he’d minimize the drama and he’d be the next Obama if he only had a brain. “You’re a dog-faced pony-soldier!” is negative exposure; they’re words that taunt and shame--- he’d laugh it off and...

The Society of Classical Poets refers to the COVID-19 coronavirus as the CCP virus because the Chinese Communist Party’s coverup and mismanagement allowed the virus to spread throughout China and create a global pandemic.     Flatten the Curve by Rob Crisell “Flatten the curve,” they say to me. “Or...

  The blind poet awakes and feels his way Into the living room, where light of day Will find his daughters ready to preserve The words of truth and beauty that disturb His sleep, and roll forth from him like a spool Of thread that needs a needle to give...

  for Mark F. Stone and all his pets The duck has special properties: Like water off its back; If only we as humans could Perfect the duck’s dry knack. It’s not that water isn’t there Or ducks just cannot drown, But always buoyant in a storm, They’re always up...

  Candidatus Non Compos Mentis Joe lacks the humility To see the futility Of running for office While fighting senility. With growing pugnacity, He aims his mendacity At all who object to His clear incapacity. I hold it self-evident A nursing home resident Should not run for mayor, Much less...

  The Author He portrays a lonely figure In his cottage by the sea With his pencil and his paper and his dog. Gone his youthful verve and vigour But remaining in its lee Is the gift that soon will form his epilogue. With the ocean panorama Bathed in twilight’s...

  A Soliloquy on Modern Poetry  I write this, a soliloquy Regarding modern poetry. I don’t appreciate the terse Disheveled nature of free verse. So much of it just seems contrived And of true beauty so deprived. I just don’t understand the thought That rhyme makes people overwrought, Whereas it...

  "Save daylight!" spoke the powers-that-be, and everyone supined, except for Arizona, see, which steadfastly declined. Hawaii, too, and certain parts of Indiana judged that darkness suited more their hearts, and from it neither budged. The light, meanwhile, remains unfazed, affected not by men, nor how they measure nights or...

  Who is this finger-waving man--- this millionaire, this communist? Let’s think about him while we can, this grandpa with the Marxist twist. Our wealth, I fear, he’ll commandeer “to help the poor, the indigent!” but from his own steer very clear, contributing not one red cent. Must politicians always...

Wake-Up Call "Shoulda," "coulda," "woulda" and "whatever" Are telltales that evince velleity In speakers who most probably will never Instantiate authentic seity. For every post-millenial young snowflake There is a vital task that must be done, But if it's harder than a piece of sponge cake, You'll hear those babies...

  A Truly Perfect Love My fingertips caress your hair and I no longer have a care about what happens in this mortal plane. I lay you down upon the bed and then I gently touch your head and you surrender love to me again. I feel your tongue from...

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQ6QuvFS068    

translations by Alan Steinle Translator's Note: This poem (“Tres cosas”) was originally written in Spanish by Baltasar del Alcázar (1525-1606). I have translated the poem into English and have retained the abba rhyme and the eight-syllable lines.   Three Things I’m a prisoner to all these, and I’m as happy...

  To Whom It May Concern Who writes letters anymore, and in verse? I don't care whether you like it or not. I suppose I could have phoned you, or worse— dropped in. I'd be putting you on the spot. You're just like everyone else nowadays, no face to face,...

O, Where Is Love? by James A. Tweedie O, where is love? You’ll find it in the pain _That binds a mother to her newborn child; _In bitter-broken friendships reconciled; _And in the kiss of lovers in the rain; In being kind and offering a smile _To hardened hearts too...

. Uncle Joe's Last Stand “Lying, dog-faced pony soldier!” Blurts out Biden, as he scolds her. Eyes unfocused, can’t walk upright; Goes not gentle into that night. Mind adrift, his brain a rebel. Voice reverts to childish treble. Conduct strange and unbecoming. Dentures loose---he’s always gumming! Barely holding on to...

  Bongo, bongo, bongo, I don’t wanna leave the Congo, Oh no, no, no, no, no! Bingle, bangle, bungle, I’m so happy in the jungle I just don’t wanna go! —Danny Kaye and The Andrews Sisters, 1947 The Vatican is dull and dreary— It leaves me out of sorts and...

  The Park Northern pintails brushing blue, the crescendo of their wings, weaving windsong into words some say that, “Up jumped spring.” The rising sun, through veils of dun, atop a pool of glass with flitting beams, does bend the streams to cast a liquid brass. Children fashion cradles, and...

A Child’s Winter Inventory Winter ‘87-’88 Twittering birds; Chattering teeth; Snow coats the trees In an icy sheath. Glittering snow, Bone-chilling breeze; The frost seeps in; Things begin to freeze. Fluttering scarves; Skaters on ice; I think that winter Is really quite nice.     To Winter December 16, 1994...

Bring On the Leeches A condition called aspergillosis, And a touch of marasmus as well, Was the surgeon’s succinct diagnosis. All my innards were hurting like hell, And he told me that nothing he did Stood a chance of improving my grave Situation. I slipped him a quid Then requested...

Proverbs for Engraving onto Imperial Monuments War is the price of freedom. Depths bewilder. The blow aimed at the beast hits him who shields it. The sword of Justice best serves him who wields it. The gibbet’s final victim is its builder. A round coin rolls to him who most...

An English Ode That famous field where nodding poppies sway In sunlit grass, where souls of all the good Spend sweet Eternity in dance and play And with the gods, take Beauty as their food __Upon the isle across the sea __That circles all the mortal world With misty waters...

  A Letter to Sir Grammar Dear Sir Grammar: With all kindness and courtesy, may I request, A new package of words, freshly made, For, truly, it seems I have used them all up, And my writing has near been betrayed. To start with, I shall need a splatter of...

Praise for Fall You float in on a late September breeze with still-warm days and mild, cool nights in tow. It’s not your way to bring the first hard freeze before November when your cold winds blow. The trees, a color riot on display, God’s handiwork, are certain to enthrall....