'Whatchamacallit' poems

Donall Dempsey May 2018

KISSING MR. CHELIDON GOODBYE

**...**. . .oh!
I don't know

if I should be
telling you this.

I was just sweet
as in 16 &

never been kissed
and my *******

hadn't yet arrived
though I prayed and prayed

to a God who did not
heed my girlish plea.

All the girls in my year
had already budded.

******* to the right of me!
Breast to the left of me!

Into the valley of despair
I rode my Raleigh

alas alas
breast-less!

I practiced kissing
by kissing

the you know
inside of
( the whatchamacallit? )

my elbow the
chelidon so called

by an old falling-apart
medical dictionary.

I clipped some hair
from our Yorkshire terrier

stuck it on the crick of
my right elbow

so that it became
my first moustache'd kiss.

And so, was born
my Mr. Chelidon.

Pathetic...yes...I know
but the year after

my bosoms arrived
with a suddenness

that took my breath
away.

I breasting the waves
like a ship's figurehead

as I dived into the sea
a Venus for boys to see.

I was my *******
and my ******* were me.

Somehow I could then not
stopped being kissed.

And once kissed
grew addicted to it.

The bliss of the kiss.
I was my own drug.

I gave Mr. Chelidon
the elbow.

Discovered the joy of boys
inventing various uses

for them
as they

discovered
me.

Mike Hauser Dec 2018

My Whatchamacallit

Flabbergasted at my findings
Drooling slightly over luck
Hard to explain how my life has changed
Now the proud owner of a Whatchamacallit

It came with all the accessories
All the whistles plus the bells
Lucky I grabbed it when I did
You know how fast those things fly off the shelf

Double wrapped in heavy plastic
Sealed up tight for safeties sake
To keep from the hands of those not in the know
Plus less chance of escape

Though Whatchamacallit's aren't dangerous
They are mischievous all the same
Far be it for me to set mine free
And be the one to blame

So I keep it on a leash
Everytime that I go out
Even put it in my pocket
If I'm roaming a big crowd

But believe you me if it's me you see
Out someday on the street
I have my Whatchamacallit
Somewhere close to me

Mike Hauser Jul 2016

~Whatchamacallit~

Flabbergasted at my findings
Drooling slightly over luck
Hard to explain how my life has changed
Now the proud owner of a Whatchamacallit

It came with all the accessories
All the whistles plus the bells
Lucky I grabbed it when I did
You know how fast those things fly off the shelf

Double wrapped in heavy plastic
Sealed up tight for safeties sake
To keep from the hands of those not in the know
Plus less chance of escape

Though Whatchamacallit's aren't dangerous
They are mischievous all the same
Far be it for me to set mine free
And be the one to blame

So I keep it on a leash
Everytime that I go out
Even put it in my pocket
If I'm roaming a big crowd

But believe you me if it's me you see
Out someday on the street
I have my Whatchamacallit
Somewhere close to me

Richard Riddle Jun 2015

"My Father's Day"

I don't need a necktie-
I don't need a wallet-
I don't need a thingamajig-
or a whatchamacallit!

I have what I want,
a wonderful son, daughter-in-law,
and the two most powerful vitamins
known to mankind---my grandchildren.
AND, last, but not least, my "Guardian Angel",
Brie!(as in cheese)--(my cat!!! :):):)
for they make everyday, Father's Day!

copyright: richard riddle: June 21, 2015

Yea, I know; the first stanza sounds as if it belongs on a greeting card!!

Tommy Johnson Jul 2014

Bunk

One day Frick when to the place to buy some stuff
While Frack stayed in the area to do some things
Frack tossed out some junk
He used the the whatchamacallit to clean the thingamajig
Pick up the odds and ends
And he scrubbed a doodad with the thingamabob

Frick purchesed some knickknacks and bric-a-brac
A few sundries
A couple of tchotkes and trinkets
Some whatnot
A gizmo
A gadget
And more miscellaneous paraphernalia

When Frick got home Frack asked "What'd you buy?"
Frick said " Oh, this and that" "What'd you do all day?"
Frack said "Just a hodgepodge of etcetera, etcetera"
-Tommy Johnson

Rachael Stainthorpe Apr 2013

Donnabella

Is a name of the sweetest kind

she threw me up - some old time movie kinda girl

busted some moves like she was a snake on a plane

poisonous i drank her deeply, cooly like whatchamacallit

yep i am feelin that vibe, i tell you

she is beauty perfected, she makes my heart thump

i never met her, never once did i see her face

she catches my breath and holds it, she laughs

at the way i try to breathe her in

she suffocates my soul because she knows i want her,

want her so bad

and i just think that when the wind blows

will it catch me and take me far from here?

i can see her laughing from the corner of my eye

i can spy on her, yet she doesn't know where i am

and still she makes it difficult to breathe

tendrils wrap round my body

cold, it throws me into shock

a swimming pool in the night

i can't catch my breath, i drown in her

she enters my skin and pulls at my legs

i am not grounded, when she is here

smile, she makes me

feel

warm inside, like i can survive this dream

and when i think i can't take anymore

i take some more

i take a deep breath and she is there before me

ready and willin to tear away my thoughts

i had before

come see me she says, come hold my hand

and i will

keep you

in my

arms

Donall Dempsey May 2016

KISSING MR. CHELIDON GOODBYE

KISSING MR. CHELIDON GOODBYE

**...**. . .oh!
I don't know

if I should be
telling you this.

I was just sweet
as in 16 &

never been kissed
and my *******

hadn't yet arrived
though I prayed and prayed

to a God who did not
heed my girlish plea.

All the girls in my year
had already budded.

******* to the right of me!
Breast to the left of me!

Into the valley of despair
I rode my Raleigh

alas alas
breast-less!

I practiced kissing
by kissing

the you know
inside of
( the whatchamacallit? )

my elbow the
chelidon so called

by an old falling-apart
medical dictionary.

I clipped some hair
from our Yorkshire terrier

stuck it on the crick of
my right elbow

so that it became
my first moustache'd kiss.

And so, was born
my Mr. Chelidon.

Pathetic...yes...I know
but the year after

my bosoms arrived
with a suddenness

that took my breath
away.

I breasting the waves
like a ship's figurehead

as I dived into the sea
a Venus for boys to see.

I was my *******
and my ******* were me.

Somehow I could then not
stopped being kissed.

And once kissed
grew addicted to it.

The bliss of the kiss.
I was my own drug.

I gave Mr. Chelidon
the elbow.

Discovered the joy of boys
inventing various uses

for them
as they

discovered
me.

Kody dibble Feb 2015

That Ivy House

On the corner of whatchamacallit,
And prancer-villa
I sense time running north,
To show itself clear,
Without the lie and scandal,

Something showing forth, inner,
Willingness to provide tension
Lessons, to learn or learned by

This I know is clearly shown as friend,
Compare results,
Trade lives,
All the while the shoes are muddy,
And the dancing is clean

Someday

#lifelovepeacejoytruthgracetimechange

Donall Dempsey May 2017

KISSING MR. CHELIDON GOODBYE

KISSING MR. CHELIDON GOODBYE

**...**. . .oh!
I don't know

if I should be
telling you this.

I was just sweet
as in 16 &

never been kissed
and my *******

hadn't yet arrived
though I prayed and prayed

to a God who did not
heed my girlish plea.

All the girls in my year
had already budded.

******* to the right of me!
Breast to the left of me!

Into the valley of despair
I rode my Raleigh

alas alas
breast-less!

I practiced kissing
by kissing

the you know
inside of
( the whatchamacallit? )

my elbow the
chelidon so called

by an old falling-apart
medical dictionary.

I clipped some hair
from our Yorkshire terrier

stuck it on the crick of
my right elbow

so that it became
my first moustache'd kiss.

And so, was born
my Mr. Chelidon.

Pathetic...yes...I know
but the year after

my bosoms arrived
with a suddenness

that took my breath
away.

I breasting the waves
like a ship's figurehead

as I dived into the sea
a Venus for boys to see.

I was my *******
and my ******* were me.

Somehow I could then not
stopped being kissed.

And once kissed
grew addicted to it.

The bliss of the kiss.
I was my own drug.

I gave Mr. Chelidon
the elbow.

Discovered the joy of boys
inventing various uses

for them
as they

discovered
me.

matthew scott harris May 2019

Wood chew believe aye took stock...?

Upon a whim, an endeavor
arose to communicate
cumulative key whatchamacallit,
yea...nuggets o' wisdom, asper
about yours truly no reason, nor

rhyme unwinding, tooling sputtering
most vexing mystery more
baffling than any whodunnit,
asper in this ole rattle trap to whit,
which drab filler hoop fully doth newt

induce thee to *****
while this true bore doer sits here twit
tilling thumbs, one doubting Thomas
addresses, (albeit favoring abridged titbit
alphabetized list), I attempt (collusion

gluten, GMO free), aye solicit
motley fool, not to accrue superprofit
unbiased worded atypical, bohemian
rhapsodizing non mercurial portrait
most challenged since umpteenth orbit

whiling away this last May 2019 Tuesday
around nearest star circle game
impossible mission exit
or at least until after exhausting
without courting death
senescence to delimit.

ME? ANTI THE FOLLOWING::>

aggression, alcohol, apartheid, authoritarianism,
billboard, bureaucratic, censorship, church,
cigarette, anticlericalism, anticolonialism,
commercialism, communism, conglomerate,
conventional, corporate, corruption,

counterfeiting, crime, cruelty, cult, defamation,
diarrheal, dogmatic, dumping, elitism,
establishmentarianism, fascism,
fashion, formalist, fraud, fur, guerilla, gun,
hierarchical, hijack, hunter, king, illiterate,

litter, lynching, macho, materialism, militarism,
miscegenation, monarchical, monopolist,
mosquito, nationalist, nepotism, noise, nuclear,
obesity, pesticide, plague, pollution, poverty,
racist, racketeering, ****, religion, revolutionary,

riot, royalist, sexist, shoplifting, slavery, smog,
smoker, smuggling, snob, subversive, tax,
terrorist, theft, tobacco, totalitarian, violence,
vivisectionist, welfare.

What About You?

Donall Dempsey May 2019

KISSING MR. CHELIDON GOODBYE

KISSING MR. CHELIDON GOODBYE

**...**. . .oh!
I don't know

if I should be
telling you this.

I was just sweet
as in 16 &

never been kissed
and my *******

hadn't yet arrived
though I prayed and prayed

to a God who did not
heed my girlish plea.

All the girls in my year
had already budded.

******* to the right of me!
Breast to the left of me!

Into the valley of despair
I rode my Raleigh

alas alas
breast-less!

I practiced kissing
by kissing

the you know
inside of
( the whatchamacallit? )

my elbow the
chelidon so called

by an old falling-apart
medical dictionary.

I clipped some hair
from our Yorkshire terrier

stuck it on the crick of
my right elbow

so that it became
my first moustache'd kiss.

And so, was born
my Mr. Chelidon.

Pathetic...yes...I know
but the year after

my bosoms arrived
with a suddenness

that took my breath
away.

I breasting the waves
like a ship's figurehead

as I dived into the sea
a Venus for boys to see.

I was my *******
and my ******* were me.

Somehow I could then not
stopped being kissed.

And once kissed
grew addicted to it.

The bliss of the kiss.
I was my own drug.

I gave Mr. Chelidon
the elbow.

Discovered the joy of boys
inventing various uses

for them
as they

discovered
me.

Robert Oliva Sep 29

I LEFT

I LEFT
Now I’m gone and you should’ve known
That I’d be gone when all your Coven costumes  were sewn , with duplicity and  lies you tried to keep the story intact. You surprised me with the  ease of deceit you were enabled to enact
A tale of flawed origin?
Why did we even interact?
Now I’m gone, and I think you should’ve known,
I had to be gone,  I saw those  evil seeds you’ve sown with a clever construct of lies that you used as a disguise. Now I need a vaccination spiritually wise, all your excuses and your stories I’ve come to despise
so I am gone and you should’ve known
Just look around and  see that now I’m  gone.
This cat has flown
the coop or whatever you call it I’m not around anymore so call up whatchamacallit,
because now I’m gone and you sure should’ve known
Bobby O

— The End —