The Bitter Snits
by Renee M. LaTulippe
When you hunker in a sulk,
and you slouch and you skulk
like a heaving, huffing hulk
of mad
That’s when the Bitter Snits
slither in and steal your wits–
oh, my dear, I will admit it’s
bad.
A Bitter Snit’s a wormy thing,
a niggling, wriggling, squirmy thing
that plants a nagging germy thing
deep inside your brain.
And then you start the sniveling,
your surly head goes swiveling,
your common sense starts shriveling –
oh, it’s inhumane.
If you blubber, if you bawl,
beat your hands against the wall,
Bitter Snits will come to call,
it’s plain.
So when your temper’s on the fritz
and you sink down in the pits
of your snicky-icky fits
of mope
Just remember that a smile
for a Snit is something vile
and if you do it for a while…
there’s hope.
'The Bitter Snits' Copyright © 2012 Renee M. LaTulippe
Reproduced with author's permission
Dem Bitter Snits
by Vikram Madan
WE are dem SNITS! Dem BITTER SNITS!
Dem no good restless little twits!
WE howl! WE prowl! WE stalk! WE sit!
And spread our spite where WE see fit!
WE'RE always cruising for some huff!
And specks of pout and crumbs of gruff!
An upset mind dat's feeling rough
Is where WE always plant our stuff!
WE snick and snack on common sense!
WE love to make your mind feel dense!
Once you've been breached dere's no defense
WE always quickly call our friends!
As long as dere are sulks and tears
Dere's little dat WE dread or fear!
De only ding WE cannot bear
Are signs and smells of (shudder!) cheer!
So DO NOT smile! It gives us fits!
NO SMILES! Smiles make us LOSE our wits!
You smiled? OH, NO! You've made us fritz!
For smiles destroy our SNITTER BITS ... !!!
*….Aaargh….**$&@*($*@#**....
'Dem Bitter Snits' Text & Illustration Copyright © 2012 Vikram Madan
Text and Illustration Copyright © 2012 Vikram Madan
LOST: ONE SENSE OF HUMOR
By Vikram Madan
The tale is spreading quickly;
You must have heard the rumor
I hurt my funny bone and then
I lost my sense of humor
I've looked for it all summer
I've searched afar and near
I'm feeling very dismal and
Unsmilingly severe
Hilarity eludes me
My wit induces tears
My jokes are flat as pancakes and
Repulsive to all ears
My puns are vile and pun-gent
My tales of jest appall
My gags induce much gagging and
My banter makes them bawl
Don't let this happen to you
Protect your funny bone
Or else you too might write a poem
Whose ending is a 'groan'.
I suspect I'm not the only one with whom this poem will resonate ... :)
I'm Growing Old
By John Godfrey Saxe
My days pass pleasantly away;
My nights are blest with sweetest sleep;
I feel no symptoms of decay;
I have no cause to mourn nor weep;
My foes are impotent and shy;
My friends are neither false nor cold,
And yet, of late, I often sigh--
I am growing old!
My growing talk of olden times,
My growing thirst for early news,
My growing apathy to rhymes,
My growing love of easy shoes,
My growing hate of crowds and noise,
My growing fear of taking cold,
All whisper, in the plainest voice,
I'm growing old!
I'm growing fonder of my staff;
I'm growing dimmer in the eyes;
I'm growing fainter in my laugh;
I'm growing deeper in my sighs;
I'm growing careless of my dress;
I'm growing frugal of my gold;
I'm growing wise; I'm growing,-- yes,--
I'm growing old!
I see it in my changing taste;
I see it in my changing hair;
I see it in my growing waist;
I see it in my growing heir;
A thousand signs proclaim the truth,
As plain as truth was ever told,
That, even in my vaunted youth,
I'm growing old!
Ah me! my very laurels breathe
The tale in my reluctant ears,
And every boon the Hours bequeath
But makes me debtor to the Years!
E'en Flattery's honeyed words declare
The secret she would fain withhold,
And tells me in "How young you are!"
I'm growing old!
Thanks for the years! -- whose rapid flight
My sombre Muse too sadly sings;
Thanks for the gleams of golden light
That tint the darkness of their wings;
The light that beams from out the sky,
Those heavenly mansions to unfold
Where all are blest, and none may sigh,
"I'm growing old!"
Excerpted from 'The Poems of John Godfrey Saxe: Complete Edition', James R. Osgood and Company, Boston, 1873.
