Fun Pop Poetry #29

cat photo other two

“You Call Yourself a Cat?” by Blixa BelGrande

As I lie stretched on the mat,
daydreaming of mice and wet food,
I hear,”You call yourself a cat?”
It’s Darrell, come to wreck my mood.

Where did she find this Bozo boyfriend?
That Cheyenne calls her fiance’
I keep my eyes closed and pretend
That he’s gone far, far away

“That is one pampered animal,”
He continues, unperturbed,
“And living the life of Riley as well,”
I keep my mouth shut, not a word.

For I’m thinking of the ripped screen
In the upstairs bedroom window
It’s there that I ‘ll be redeemed
It’s there I will catch the sparrow

That will shut him up for good
That will wipe the smirk off his face
And of course it’s understood,
Just how good that bird will taste.

I casually head up the stairs,
Without a glance in his direction
And he drones on, unaware,
Of a little bird that needs protection.

Like a panther, I leap on the bed.
Like a tiger, I claw at the screen.
Quiet! as I spot the feathered head.
And I wait—as she leans—

YES! I’ve got her! In my mouth!
YIPE! YIPE! YIPE! she cries in horror!
” Hey! What the hell’s that noise about!?”
Darrell shouts, walking through the door.

But I race past him, a blur of speed,
to the living room, to Cheyenne
He must not know of my deed–
Not until Cheyenne has seen!

I lay the bird down on the floor
Cheyenne looks down, “Do you have a new toy?”
I prod the sparrow with my paw,
C’mon, you damn thing, make some noise!

“Oh good God! It’s a sparrow! Darrell, come and see!”
“What’s that cat gone and done?”
“She’s caught a bird! And brought it to me!”

She opened the door, and off it flew.
“It was still alive!” Cheyenne said, relieved.
At that point I let out a big meow.
“That’s one crafty cat,” Darrell said, admiringly.


(Cat photo c/o Jamie Lockhart.)

Fun Pop Poetry #24


More Topical Poetry from Bruce Dale Wise

“High-minded Elevants and Asstronuts” by Wilbur Dee Case

“…all true believers break their eggheads at the convenient end.”
—paraphrase of Reldresal, in Gulliver’s Travels, Jonathan Swift

For some time, there have been two fighting factions in this land.
They’re called the Elevants and Asstronuts, you understand.
They are distinguished by what they have soaring in their minds;
and both are sure they have the highest thoughts one can opine.
The animosities between these parties run so high;
at times one can discover their ideas in the sky.
They vex each other so, they will not eat, nor drink, nor talk
together, and would rather undergo electroshock.
And in the midst of these superlative, high-flying piques,
they both are threatened by exploding, rocket-riding freaks.


(Send your topical and/or fun poem to

Fun Pop Poetry #23


“An Exploitation of Subtlety” by Dan Nielsen

defined / undefined / redefined
thinking / unthinking / rethinking

defined thinking / defined unthinking / defined rethinking
undefined thinking / undefined unthinking / undefined rethinking
redefined thinking / redefined unthinking / redefined rethinking

defined thinking is logic
defined unthinking is humor
defined rethinking is memory

undefined thinking is dreams
undefined unthinking is meditation
undefined rethinking is perception

redefined thinking is philosophy
redefined unthinking is art
redefined rethinking is bliss


(Send your thought-provoking or provocative poem to

Fun Pop Poetry #17

Public domain image, royalty free stock photo from

“Merger Mania” by Tarzana Joe

Can you think of something
More insan-ier
Than another wave of
merger mania?

Remember when they
Called the coroner
For good old
AOL – Time-Warner?
And in what seems
A dress-rehearsal
GE purchased

How can one company make
Fear Factor
A show where contestants put rodents down their pants
also make nuclear power plants ?
Like a hand grenade and a two-foot tether
Some things just don’t go together

AT&T, if it has its druthers
Would like to join with Warner Brothers
Well if that deal has any takers
I can’t afford to watch the Lakers
And if those regulators let this fly
Amazon is gonna be the “little guy”


But there is one good merge idea
LEGO should join up with IKEA
LEGKEA would be a global force
The pinnacle of all things NORSE
Here’s why this one is a work of art—
Not only would they make furniture that you can put together
They would also make furniture that you can take apart.

© Tarzana Joe


(Send your fun poems to!)





Fun Pop Poetry #16


“The Staple of News” by Craig Kurtz

A pox upon your news reports,
the idle blather, vain retorts
of nincompoops who get paid to
spread scuttlebutt that’s all untrue;
you listen to the media,
that faux intelligentsia,
who promulgate a pack of lies
of facts rendered counterclockwise;
the publishers and the pundits,
from secret-handshake syndicates,
will move the public frame of mind
just like a clock that’s theirs to wind;
these are the people you won’t meet,
they’re in some private boardroom suite,
but you will feel their pressures on
your judgments, thou automaton;
ye dancing engines, set by type,
believing almanacs of hype,
the public is a great timepiece
that chimes to plunderbund’s caprice.


(Send your fun/striking/disturbing poem to 

Fun Pop Poetry #14


(WARNING: Adult Content)

“Psychology Blues” by Scott Cannon

Exhausted, wasted, strung-out, bent
From all the useless energy spent
I’m a physical wreck and my mind is a mess
The problem with me is I can’t handle stress.

So I went to the clinic like some kind of clown
Hoping they’d give me some ups or some downs
Filled out the form, signed my name to the list
Of neurotics who wanted a therapist.

I told them that lately I’d been feeling depressed
And I knew that depression is anger repressed
I said my dog died and my girl just left town
And I really needed some ups or some downs

They handed me over to a guy with a beard
And I knew right away it was gonna get weird
His diplomas said he was educated
And he wanted to know if I masturbated.

I said it seemed like my life was a mess
He asked if I thought I’d like wearing a dress.
I asked him what he thought could be wrong
He told me I wanted to fuck my mom.

I said I felt better; got up from my seat
And that’s when I noticed he was beating his meat
While I told him about my girl and my dog
Behind his desk he was flogging his log.

I took off then, and haven’t been back
The doctor they gave me was really a quack
I only wanted some ups or some downs
But I couldn’t see wasting my time with those clowns.

The help that the clinic offers for free
Is passed out by fools more fucked up than me
From now on whenever I can’t take the heat
I’ll go out and look for my drugs on the street.


(Send your outrageous or simply fun or musical poem to

Fun Pop Poetry #13

alligator 1

“Alligators Everywhere!” by Ellsworth B. Smith

Alligators everywhere
Eating kids without a care

Alligators in the park
Alligators after dark

Chasing golfers, chewing dogs
Crafty though they look like logs

Moving fast with little feet
I see alligators in my sleep!

Alligators looking cool
Alligators in my school

Climbing fences past the guards
Alligators in my yard

Red-tinged mouths and shells of green
Monsters belched out from a dream

Gazing out with glowing eyes
Choosing soon their newest prize

Chomping down with pro-nounced “crunch”
I fear they want me for lunch!

Faces full of evil grins
Killing’s not for them a sin

Reproducing like a virus
TV shows say worse than ISIS!

You can kill them if you like
poison gas or dynamite

Machine guns might not take them out
Nuclear weapons carry clout

Kill them, kill them, on the double!
Turn these creatures into rubble

Cleanse the planet if you dare
Of alligators everywhere.


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Fun Pop Poetry #12

“A Miniature American Dream” by Wred Fright
 No thank you for the tapas.

I’d like a full plate of food.

No thank you for the cupcake.

I’d like a whole cake.

No thank you for the slider.

I’d like a regular burger.

 No thank you for the pedigreed lapdog.

I’d like a big mutt.

No thank you for the 100-calorie package of snacks.

I’d like a big cookie.

 No thank you for the 59-ounce carton of orange juice.

I’d like a half-gallon as usual.

 No thank you for the offer to pay only 77 cents on the dollar for Social Security.

I’d like my full benefits.

 No thank you for the cybersex.

I’d like an old-fashioned fuck.

 No thank you for eavesdropping to keep me safe.

I’d like my privacy.

 No thank you for stores open on Thanksgiving.

I’d like a day off.

 No thank you for the diet beer.

I’d like a stout.

 No thank you for the leased car.

I’d like to buy one.

 No thank you for Daylight Savings Time.

I’d like you not to mess with the clock.

 No thank you for “liberal” presidents.

I’d like Richard Nixon to come back from the dead to see that he’s left of the Democrats now.

 No thank you for the miniature American dream.

Mine is still fullsized.

Send us your fun/striking/provocative/shocking poem to
Be sure to read our Report on the Pop Poetry movement!

Fun Pop Poetry #5

shock photo for Dan poem

“Four Poems” by Dan Nielsen


She asked, “Why do you love me—
Is it my shape, or face?”
I said, “You’ve got me wrong;
What turns me on,
Are your quirks and traits.”


She’s supportive, though pessimistic,
And often gives this advice,
“It’s never to late to get started,”
Though you’ll never get done in time.”


Our teacher was Miss Givings,
A woman I adored;
And if I ever had Miss Givings
I certainly don’t anymore.


I received shock therapy
For multiple personality.
It hurt like hell, and was no fun;
And now I don’t have even one.


(Send your fun poetry to

Fun Pop Poetry #2

theda bara

This is NOT a photo of Blixa BelGrande!


–WARNING: Adult Content–

“Death in the Medicine Cabinet” by Blixa BelGrande

(Inside Kenny’s medicine cabinet, Prozac and Viagra stand side by side. Prozac smiling, Viagra standing stiff and erect.)


Ah, Viagra! Be of good cheer today!
The sun is shining
And Kenny might get laid.
He’s been working on his timing.


My dear Prozac, I hope to God he does get laid–
At last I can be of good use!
Of this matter I’ve often prayed,
Sometimes he can be so obtuse!
He wants a stiff one on demand,
Yet takes me hours before,
Prescription directions be damned!
And then at me he gets sore.


Shhhhhh. Kenny approaches.

(Kenny enters room, opens medicine cabinet and shakes out two Viagra, speaks in thick Cockney accent.)


A bloody hour ’til she comes,
So I’ll take a Viagra now, maybe two,
This thing’ll be throbbin’ like a drum–
I’ll screw ‘er til she turns blue.

(Kenny shuts cabinet door and swallows Viagra.)


And bloody well HE will turn blue!
He’s gone and taken two of me in order to screw!
Fool! Imbecile! Idiot! Wanker! Knave!
Sure he’ll be hard and stiff– in the grave!

(Kenny enters room.)


Shhhhhh. He’s back.

Kenny opens cabinet and shakes out another Viagra.)


Bloody hell, what’s one more?
I’ll show ‘er who’s boss
She don’t know what’s in store.
I’ll drown ‘er in me love sauce.

(Laughs and shuts cabinet door, swallows Viagra.)


Oh, look at the bright side–
His timing’s improved.
Who cares that he won’t be alive
To get screwed?


Oh shut up Prozac, don’t you see?
We won’t be refilled,
Not you or me!
Surely on that score
You cannot be thrilled.