Robbie Yates's Blog, page 9

Finish This Poem – “Bluetooth”

I turned on my bluetooth

And then moments passed

For sometimes my bluetooth

Is not very fast

I watched as it searched

And I watched as it scanned

Just looking for headphones

‘Cross oceans and land

I turned on my bluetooth

You’ll think it’s a lie

But then I connected

(I’ve no idea why…)

It truly connected

To something bizarre…

My bluetooth connected

To …

(Can you finish this poem?

5 Things You Might Learn At A Zoo

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The Plumber

I had to call a plumber

My kitchen sink was clogged.

My toilet started whining

My drain pipes had been flogged.

The plumber had to hurdle

My weedy garden bed;

He pressed upon the doorbell

And shook his grumpy head.

I said, “Just use a flashlight,

The power doesn’t work.

And just ignore the noises;

The neighbours are berserk.”

The plumber got his tools out

But stepped upon a mouse.

“I will not fix your plumbing.

I think you should move house!”

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Image from Pixabay © DonnaODonoghue 2007

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Oops

I pulled the little thread

I gave a little tug

My sweater was so warm

It had me feeling snug

The thread was from the knit

I yanked it with a frown

The sweater fray began

And stitches tumbled down.

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At first it was the sleeves

And then it was the back;

I would have fixed it up

But did not have the knack.

And soon it was the front

That simply came undone

And then I lost my arms

They fell off one-by-one!

The next thing that came loose

The next thing that untied

My toes dropped on the floor

And then I bloomin’ cried.

My ears each dangled down

And landed with a plop

When would this shocking dream

At last come to a stop?!

Like poorly knitted socks

My nose slipped off and fell

And then I lost my brows

And eyelashes as well.

I knew at any point

I would soon lose my head—

I wished with all my heart

I had not pulled that thread.

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Thread Image adapted from the original from Deposit Photos © Sonulkaster 2017. Dolls Image from Deposit Photos © UncleDima 2015.

 

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My Inbox

My online inbox brings me daily joy

With every new unopened piece of mail.

While others rue the emails that annoy,

I read each message fast and without fail.

Oh yes, I need to meet Hot Singles here—

It says there’s three online just standing by!

And yes, I need a detox, for I fear

My liver is too moist—or is it dry?

But more than that, I thank the souls that care

That send so many emails just to me;

If not for them I’d still be unaware

That I could get so many things for free!

Of course, I’ve felt most grateful ever since

I learned I’m to inherit from a Prince…

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Image from Pixabay © CC0 Creative Commons 2017

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Beans

There once was a man from Berlin

Who only ate beans from a tin.

He farted like mad

And said, “They smell bad

But better them out than within!”

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Image from Deposit Photos © Prawny 2015

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Sugar

I really love toffee and taffy and cake

The blueberry muffins my Dad likes to bake

And icing and jello and coconut ice

And licorice and chocolate and brownies are nice.

I went to the doctor. (I felt a bit sick.)

He poked in my mouth with a short wooden stick.

He said, “There’s no cure and there’s no magic pill—

You’re now MADE of sugar and that’s why you’re ill!”

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Image from Pixabay © Daria-Yakovleva 2016

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The Monthly Earth Update

Hello, oh waiting mothership.

I write to you to say

That here’s my monthly update:

The last two dozen days.

Another Earthling month has passed.

So quickly it flew by!

They’re still suspecting nothing—

I’m such a wicked spy.

There’s something very weird I saw

I think they called it “sport.”

They got a bouncy object

And fiercely o’er it fought.

And many others watched and yelled

And drank some stuff called beer.

And sometimes, things would happen and

Then everyone would cheer.

So that was an experience

I’d never had before.

It’s curious and wondrous and

It’s tacky, that’s for sure.

I hope, oh loyal mothership

That soon I will be done,

‘Cos though each day’s a challenge and

This trip has been so fun,

I’m ready for a home-cooked meal

Of juicy broiled head.

These people eat gross foodstuffs.

The worst one is called “Bread.”

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Image from Pixabay © CC0 Creative Commons 2017

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Finish This Poem – “Dream”

I dreamed about a burglar

Who only took my eggs.

I dreamed I was a mer-man

With fins instead of legs.

I dreamed I was a soldier

Who fought a snowball war;

I dreamed I was a gangster

Who left to study law.

I dreamed I was a robot

I dreamed I was a lark.

I dreamed I was a puppy

Who’d talk instead of bark.

I dreamed I was Australian—

A hopping kangaroo;

…

…

(Can you finish this poem?

Brazil

There once was a girl from Brazil

Who ate zero vegetables—nil!

She never ate greens

Like cabbage or beans.

Alas! The lass often got ill!

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Image from Pixabay © OpenClipart-Vectors 2013

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