Bad Pipe Poetry

[Wooda]

Smok pip shuttin deer
Smok pip kuttin wud
Smok pip er n der
Smok pip erra war

Smukin baka widda pip
De kojer scup in flikn bic
Smukin baka en dewin dip.
Da snuf in nos mek snez
So be penchhn n de lep.

[Longshanks]

Down by the briar wood tree;
She showed her bowl to me;
It was smooth and black;
It didn't show crack;
So I loaded some sweet cavendish.

[Whalehead King]

Down by the briar wood tree;
She showed her bowl to me;
It was smooth and black;
It didn't show crack;
So I loaded some sweet cavendish.

I know just the coffee shop where this poem should be read:

[arturo7]

I was enjoying my pipe in a crowd
Huffing and puffing and making a cloud
A man said, “You’re rude!”
I replied, “Get over it dude!”
Then I realized I wasn’t wearing pants.
What a crazy dream…

[MikeDennison]

I was enjoying my pipe in a crowd
Huffing and puffing and making a cloud
A man said, “You’re rude!”
I replied, “Get over it dude!”
Then I realized I wasn’t wearing pants.
What a crazy dream…

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

[Preacher1611]

Poetry is cool.
Pipes are also cool.
There is nothing better than....







Smoking a good pipe.

Y'all thought I was gonna say refrigerator, din't ya?

[Houtenziel]

Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a Mouse,

Houtenziel awoke,
From his restless slumber,
And rolled out of bed,
Like a fresh slab of lumber,
He stumbled over to his pipes,
And one he Selected,
He found some tobacco,
To his pipe he directed,

A match he did light,
and was put to the leaf,
And with many a puff,
He did not find relief,
When a crash and a bash from the Chimney he heard,
A swirling campfire smoke,
the fire's ashes were stirred,
And there in the room,
A large man did appear,
And Houtenziel's heart,
Was filled with great fear,

The big jolly man said,
"Chill out brother Ziel,
For by now you have discovered,
Jolly old Santa is real."

With a twinkle in his eye,
He queried his host,
"What thing does brother Houtenziel want most?
Is it women, or whiskey, or really fast cars?
Motorcyles, or wealth, or your own Irish bar?"

With great seriousness,
H-Man did consider,
Puffing his pipe,
with his face looking bitter,

He looked up at Santa,
With his eyes oh so bright,
"Santa, I need tobacco that won't bite,
No bitterness, or gurgle, or drying required,
And the fullest of flavor is what I desire,"

With a great long laugh,
"HO HO HO!"
Into the great bag,
For a gift he did go,

And when he turned round,
A pipe had he lit,
And the sweetest of smoke curled,
From the Vulcanite bit.

"Little Ziel I present you With the finest of things,
But tobacco it's not,
For it's not why your tongue stings."

And over to H,
Santa did smile and hand,
A shiny new pipe kit,
the best of all in the land,
And adorned on the bit,
A spade did it show,
And Santa did wink,
"H, you're now in the know."

Santa and H, did sit together and puff,
Merry Christmas you rubes,
For that much rhyming's enough.

[arturo7]

Nicely done, Mr H!

[MikeDennison]

Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a Mouse,

Houtenziel awoke,
From his restless slumber,
And rolled out of bed,
Like a fresh slab of lumber,
He stumbled over to his pipes,
And one he Selected,
He found some tobacco,
To his pipe he directed,

A match he did light,
and was put to the leaf,
And with many a puff,
He did not find relief,
When a crash and a bash from the Chimney he heard,
A swirling campfire smoke,
the fire's ashes were stirred,
And there in the room,
A large man did appear,
And Houtenziel's heart,
Was filled with great fear,

The big jolly man said,
"Chill out brother Ziel,
For by now you have discovered,
Jolly old Santa is real."

With a twinkle in his eye,
He queried his host,
"What thing does brother Houtenziel want most?
Is it women, or whiskey, or really fast cars?
Motorcyles, or wealth, or your own Irish bar?"

With great seriousness,
H-Man did consider,
Puffing his pipe,
with his face looking bitter,

He looked up at Santa,
With his eyes oh so bright,
"Santa, I need tobacco that won't bite,
No bitterness, or gurgle, or drying required,
And the fullest of flavor is what I desire,"

With a great long laugh,
"HO HO HO!"
Into the great bag,
For a gift he did go,

And when he turned round,
A pipe had he lit,
And the sweetest of smoke curled,
From the Vulcanite bit.

"Little Ziel I present you With the finest of things,
But tobacco it's not,
For it's not why your tongue stings."

And over to H,
Santa did smile and hand,
A shiny new pipe kit,
the best of all in the land,
And adorned on the bit,
A spade did it show,
And Santa did wink,
"H, you're now in the know."

Santa and H, did sit together and puff,
Merry Christmas you rubes,
For that much rhyming's enough.

Respect.

[arturo7]

This one was written around 1692:

I sat with a pipe on my porch
My neighbor walked by with a torch
I asked him his plan
He said, “C’mon man,
Let’s go give some witches a scorch!”