funny poems | L.Z. Marie

I got the cool–

those dual

Refrigerator blues

Cuz, it’s true

I need to own two.

Twin places to keep yesterday’s stew

Double the storage for food that’s new.

Two times the space to fill with Tupperware

Of dinner leftovers or restaurant fare.

Mexican fajitas, Chinese take-out

Korean barbecue, half a jar of sauerkraut.

Limpy carrots, a rotten Portobello mushroom

This 2^nd fridge is nothing more than a cold food tomb

Bottles of water and two cans of beer

are carelessly shoved to the very rear

To make room for one pizza slice

A carton of eggs and leftover rice.

The boxes, the cartons, the plastic wrapped food

Remain there quite nicely, until I’m in the mood

To clean out the 2^nd fridge in my spare time.

Then, oh, dear, who knows what I might find!

Out of sight, out of mind,

That’s the well-known rhyme

If only I could remember just what’s inside

Before it rotted, dried out, or died

I would be ever so thrifty and clever

Knowing what I bought, forgetting never!

Then it hits me! It does! As I write this sad verse.

I pull the phone from out of my purse.

I open the fridge door, snap a picture, it’s true

Now I won’t have to guess, I will have a clue!

Once a week, I pledge, the photo I’ll update

The leftovers will be saved from their horrible fate!

In fact, that gives me another idea that’s grand

For trips to the store and super-sized land.

The insides of both refrigerators will I with camera snap

Then I won’t fall into the “do I have that” trap.

Riddle me this:

How can both refrigerator and pantry be stuffed with food

but Hubby and kiddos say we have nothing to eat?

freshest food is behind fridge door #1

who know what lurks behind fridge door #2

My Closet! Or—Why I Never Find Anything to Wear!

Closet closet in my room

In the darkness my clothes do loom

Rumpled, smooshed, wrinkled, or pressed

Doesn’t matter—it makes me depressed.

Skirt too big, slacks don’t fit

Is it any wonder I throw a fit?

Neckline too high, I’ll look like a nun

Or plunging too low, I ain’t that much fun!

This t-shirt is short, that one’s too long

All these tops are wrong, wrong, wrong.

The sweater is bulky, the wool is itchy

The other’s clingy, no doubt why I’m so b****y

These jeans are baggy, those pants stretch out

Is it any wonder, a gal stresses out?

This skirt’s a bit short—I’ll need some tights

Maybe then, it might look alright.

What was I thinking when I bought this blouse?

It will never, ever make it out of the house.

Too see through, too trashy, too black, too red

Maybe I’ll just go back to bed.

Hideous stripes, tacky print

This might work—but it’s covered in lint.

I know! I know what I must do.

I must purge before I replace with new.

THIS time, I’ll organize by color and style

Then maybe, I wouldn’t get so darn riled.

But I just hate to toss the too tight clothes

Because every girl knows

That next month—for sure—I’ll go to the gym

Then everything—almost everything—will fit once again.

Give it up! Throw it out! Give it away!

That’s what well-meaning friends and my husband say.

I’m not brave, not that bold,

So I remove a few items and begin to fold.

These clothes shall go into a plastic box

and there remain, my own fabric Fort Knox.

so many clothes, and nothin’ to wear

Click Amazon link for novels.

I got the cool–

those dual

Refrigerator blues

Cuz, it’s true

I need to own two.

Twin places to keep yesterday’s stew

Double the storage for food that’s new.

Two times the space to fill with Tupperware

Of dinner leftovers or restaurant fare.

Mexican fajitas, Chinese take-out

Korean barbecue, half a jar of sauerkraut.

Limpy carrots, a rotten Portobello mushroom

This 2nd fridge is nothing more than a cold food tomb

Bottles of water and two cans of beer

are carelessly shoved to the very rear

To make room for one pizza slice

A carton of eggs and leftover rice.

The boxes, the cartons, the plastic wrapped food

Remain there quite nicely, until I’m in the mood

To clean out the 2nd fridge in my spare time.

Then, oh, dear, who knows what I might find!

Out of sight, out of mind,

That’s the well-known rhyme

If only I could remember just what’s inside

Before it rotted, dried out, or died

I would be ever so thrifty and clever

Knowing what I bought, forgetting never!

Then it hits me! It does! As I write this sad verse.

I pull the phone from out of my purse.

I open the fridge door, snap a picture, it’s true

Now I won’t have to guess, I will have a clue!

Once a week, I pledge, the photo I’ll update

The leftovers will be saved from their horrible fate!

In fact, that gives me another idea that’s grand

For trips to the store and super-sized land.

The insides of both refrigerators will I with camera snap

Then I won’t fall into the “do I have that” trap.

Riddle me this:

How can both refrigerator and pantry be stuffed with food

but Hubby and kiddos say we have nothing to eat?

Closet closet in my room

In the darkness my clothes do loom

Rumpled, smooshed, wrinkled, or pressed

Doesn’t matter—it makes me depressed.

Skirt too big, slacks don’t fit

Is it any wonder I throw a fit?

Neckline too high, I’ll look like a nun

Or plunging too low, I ain’t that much fun!

This t-shirt is short, that one’s too long

All these tops are wrong, wrong, wrong.

The sweater is bulky, the wool is itchy

The other’s clingy, no doubt why I’m so b****y

These jeans are baggy, those pants stretch out

Is it any wonder, a gal stresses out?

This skirt’s a bit short—I’ll need some tights

Maybe then, it might look alright.

What was I thinking when I bought this blouse?

It will never, ever make it out of the house.

Too see through, too trashy, too black, too red

Maybe I’ll just go back to bed.

Hideous stripes, tacky print

This might work—but it’s covered in lint.

I know! I know what I must do.

I must purge before I replace with new.

THIS time, I’ll organize by color and style

Then maybe, I wouldn’t get so darn riled.

But I just hate to toss the too tight clothes

Because every girl knows

That next month—for sure—I’ll go to the gym

Then everything—almost everything—will fit once again.

Give it up! Throw it out! Give it away!

That’s what well-meaning friends and my husband say.

I’m not brave, not that bold,

So I remove a few items and begin to fold.

These clothes shall go into a plastic box

and there remain, my own fabric Fort Knox.

This 2^nd fridge is nothing more than a cold food tomb

To clean out the 2^nd fridge in my spare time.