Poems by Alan Balter

1 - 10 of 11

The Lake

I wrote this poem for my wife. Together, we have shared a magnificent 42 year love affair, world travel, and 14 healthy and otherwise terrific grandchildren. I hope you enjoy my poem and will consider it in your contest and for publication.
- pending
- Posted on 01/10/24
in Short Love Poems

The Lake

waters, blue-green and laced with foam

The Lake

waters, blue-green and laced with foam
rolled ashore in liquid whispers
to wet the dune grass standing like sentinels
in a vast and verdant brigade

as a boy, I splashed in the shallows
and caught silver minnows in a frayed,
cotton cloth, then showed them to a girl
with eyes the color of cornflowers

and when we were still young and fresh
we ran, hand in hand, into the cold surf
where we warmed each other and spoke of
all the sweet things that life would bring us

and now, after the ebb and flow of thousands of tides,
I sit onshore of the great lake and reflect upon
the wonders of the waters and the woman
I love as I love my life
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Travel Sickness

I'm a retired university professor who has turned to poetry in his retirement to preserve his wife's sanity. She maintains that having me around 24 hours a day is as bit of astretch. Preposterous!!
- pending
- Posted on 08/12/24
in Short Poems

Travel Sickness

A voyage abroad with my good wife Maude turned into a real mess

Travel Sickness

A voyage abroad with my good wife Maude turned into a real mess
In need of some rest in Budapest, about all I got was stress
Then in France I took a chance on some pork a little too rare
I so regret that Monsieur's toilette was very crowded there

We never found out if the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plains
Because in Barcelona and again in Pamplona I had severe head pains
Many a folk strolled through churches baroque, the grandest in the area
Only I felt blue, stretched out on a pew, certain I had malaria

Europe had been tough, really rough; things had gotten out of hand
So we gathered our stuff and headed out in a huff to visit the holy land
Then I tripped on a boulder and bruised my shoulder; alas, we had to leave
'Cause wearing a sling in the early spring is awkward in Tel Aviv

Maude was irked that nothing had worked; still, she said with a smile
"Let's conform and go someplace warm, maybe a tropical isle"
But a ruptured achilles in the Antilles I accomplished with astonishing ease
It laid me low, don't you know, as an intestinal disease in Belize

Clearly time to abort, so we cut our trip short and headed back to Seattle
Never one to complain when he's in pain, I'd fought a courageous battle
Now home at last with our trip in the past, I'm not looking for anything dramatic
Just find me a shrink who doesn't drink and treats problems psychosomatic
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Dead Is Dead
- Published: April 2017
Funny Poem About Death

in Humorous Poems

When somebody dies, folks hardly ever say "dead."
They prefer "expired" or "departed" instead.
Most of the euphemisms don't do any harm,
Like "biting the dust" or "buying the farm."

When somebody dies, folks hardly ever say "dead."
They prefer "expired" or "departed" instead.
Most of the euphemisms don't do any harm,
Like "biting the dust" or "buying the farm."

There are "fallen off the perch" and "given up the ghost."
"Taking a dirt nap" is one I like most.
"Kicked the oxygen habit" and "gone offline"
Are a couple favorites of mine.

How about "at room temperature" or "fell off the twig,"
"Wearing a toe tag" or "played his last gig"?
"Bought a pine condo" and "six feet under,"
"Became a root inspector" makes one wonder.

Try "went belly up" and "bit the biscuit."
"Laid down his burden" and never missed it.
"Gone to his maker" and "out of print,"
"In a horizontal phone booth" for a permanent stint.

"Defunct," "extinct," and "in the crisper."
Most say 'em no louder than a whisper.
"Gone to sleep city" and "passed his sell by date,"
"Cashed in his chips at the pearly gate."

Now we could go on, but you get the point.
Have a fun in life before "checking out of this joint,"
And should you come to my funeral, don't bring a thing.
Just sit back and listen to the fat lady sing.
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I found this poem very refreshing and true. Very good.

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Englksh Is A Pane

Top 500 184
- Published: October 2017
Humorous Poem About The Inconsistencies Of English Language

in Funny Poems for Kids

Hear eye sit inn English class; the likelihood is that eye won't pass
An F on my report card wood bee worse than swallowing glass
It's knot that eye haven't studied, often till late at knight
Butt the rules are sew confusing, eye simply can't get them write

Hear eye sit inn English class; the likelihood is that eye won't pass
An F on my report card wood bee worse than swallowing glass
It's knot that eye haven't studied, often till late at knight
Butt the rules are sew confusing, eye simply can't get them write

Hour teacher says, "Heed my advice, ewe must study and sacrifice"
Butt if mouses are mice and louses are lice, how come blouses aren't blice
The confusion really abounds when adding esses two nouns
Gooses are geese, butt mooses aren't meese; somebody scent in the clowns

Two ultimatums are ultimata, and a couple of datum are data
Sew wouldn't ewe expect it wood bee correct fore a bunch of plums to be plata?
And if more than won octopus are octopi, and the plural of ox is oxen
Shouldn't a couple of busses bee bussi and a pare of foxes bee foxen?

Let's talk about spelling a wile, specifically letters witch are silent
Words like "psychologist" and "wreck" shirley make awl of us violent
And another example quite plane witch is really hard two explain
If it's eye before e except after sea, then what about feign and reign?

The final exam will determine how eye due, weather eye pass ore fail
I halve prepared as much as eye can down two the last detail
I'm ready two give it my vary best inn just a little wile
And then isle take a relaxing wrest on a tropical aisle
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Very clever and funny, but it kinda blows my mind reading through this at the same time! How on earth did I manage to learn this wonderful, confusing language?! I must be converting it into...

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Great Grandpa
- Published: January 2018
My Great Grandfather And His Life's Work

in Family Poems for Kids

Great Grandpa is a wise old man who says he's ninety-four.
He tells me that he lost his leg fighting in some war.
When I was just a little tot with eyes and nose still runny,
He swears that he forgot my name, so now he calls me Sonny.

Great Grandpa is a wise old man who says he's ninety-four.
He tells me that he lost his leg fighting in some war.
When I was just a little tot with eyes and nose still runny,
He swears that he forgot my name, so now he calls me Sonny.

Great Grandpa is a carpenter; he makes things out of wood,
Chairs and stairs and pegs and legs; gee, I wish I could.
He has saws and tools and tapes and rules in the shed where he does work.
Most times he's out there late at night with his dear old helper, Turk.

Together they talk of good old days, 'bout things they used to do,
And sometimes they just kick around what are lies and what is true.
Once at breakfast, I asked my gramps when he learned his trade.
He said, "Sonny, I'm very proud to say it was down in second grade."

"Gramps," I said, "Now that's a fib; you weren't but seven or eight.
A boy can't be a carpenter at such an early date."
Grandpa winked and took a swig of cider for his thirst.
"Why, sure you can; it's easy Sonny, after nine straight years in first!"

We laughed and then he took a nap; his skin grew pale and lighter.
I loved his wrinkled face and brow, this great old freedom fighter.
He had a restful sleep awhile snoring soft and steady.
I wonder if Great Grandpa knows I'm missing him already.
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Balter's poem reminds me of my own grandfather whom I lost 49 years ago when he was 94. I remember his two habits very lucidly. He was a frugal eater. He used to weigh his food every time...

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The Benefits Of Exercise
- Published: October 2017
Funny Poem About Weight Loss Woes

in Funny Life Poems

All my life I've been extra large, plus
I'm known as a very large fellow.
I would easily pass as a school district bus
If somebody painted me yellow.

All my life I've been extra large, plus
I'm known as a very large fellow.
I would easily pass as a school district bus
If somebody painted me yellow.

"No secret to losing weight," I've been told.
"Just cut the fat from your diet."
"Get up and about even if it's cold."
Once again, I decided to try it.

But jogging was something senseless to me,
And riding a bike seemed insane.
Joining a gym involved a large fee,
And lifting weights was a pain.

So for exercise I choose horseback riding.
It's fun and easier than it sounds.
It's a very effective form of dieting
'Cause my horse lost forty pounds.
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- Rating 4.24
Featured Shared Story

Very good poem! It is my favorite so far. I would love it if more like this were written.

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Harvey The Hippo
- Published: July 2021
Limerick About A Hippo

in Limericks

Harvey is a huge hippopotamus
Who bathes in a bay that is bottomless
HIs mouth is as large
As a riverboat barge

Harvey is a huge hippopotamus
Who bathes in a bay that is bottomless
HIs mouth is as large
As a riverboat barge
And he weighs ten times more than a lot of us

Harvey wears a red cummerbund
And sewn on the back is the number one
He plays the tuba
Not far from Aruba
While dancing around in the summer sun

Once Harvey met up with a crocodile
Together they decided to walk a mile
Near the shore they strolled,
But the water got cold
So they sat down to talk on the dock a while

Eating Oreo cookies about four apiece
They talked about matters of war and peace
They discussed the economy,
Art, and astronomy
And the huge immigration of foreign geese

Then walking back toward his new shiny house
Harvey stopped for a chat with a tiny mouse
Her name was Du Barry;
They decided to marry
And soon come a baby named Stanislaus

A handsome young child was Stanislaus
Dressed up in his fine silken Spanish blouse
They all had made history;
This was no mystery
For Stan was the first Hippopotamouse

Huge Harvey adored his sweet ladylove
From her wee little feet to her head above
He brought her some strings
And other fine things
Including a snowy white turtledove

Harvey has grown really mellow now
He seldom produces a bellow now
But if you're down by the bay,
You can still see him play
This wondrous and gentle old fellow now
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I enjoyed the quality presentation of the hippo story. The rhyme style was very skilled, and there was care for rhythm while telling a coherent and entertaining tale.

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Who Nose?
- Published: October 2017
in Funny Poems for Kids

Some are as long as hoses
You buy at a garden store.
Mine can be used to smell roses
From a couple of miles or more.

Some are as long as hoses
You buy at a garden store.
Mine can be used to smell roses
From a couple of miles or more.

In case you haven't guessed it,
It's noses I'm talking about here,
And although I've never expressed it
As for mine, it's unique, I fear.

On a night that's humid and warm
You'd be impressed I'd bet.
Stand under my nose in a thunderstorm.
Chances are you won't get wet.

Yesterday I had someone to meet.
The cab drive was the worst.
The driver dropped me at Eighth Street.
But my nose went on 'til First.

Then a jet plane we boarded
Me and my nose, it was neat.
I really couldn't afford it
'Cause we needed an extra seat.

For handkerchiefs, it's really rough.
It's hard to know what to do.
A small white cloth isn't enough,
So I use a bedsheet or two.

Perhaps I shouldn't be complaining.
Who knows where things went wrong?
Certainly I should be abstaining
From sticking it where it doesn't belong
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Featured Shared Story

I think children will like the poem. It's funny. You must have a lot of imagination to write such a poem. I like it!

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Night Noises
- Published: September 2019
in Funny Poems for Kids

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

It's louder than the sound of barking dogs at night
Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.
A chainsaw cutting logs doesn't make as much din,
Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.

A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,
As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.
But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad's bedroom,
Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!

At last I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.
It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring
Mom says: "I don't mind; it's really a Godsend
That all that wind isn't coming out the other end."
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- Rating 4.01
Featured Shared Story

The writer has given a humorous touch to a common incident found in many a home. Mother's lighthearted comment, "I don't mind; it's really a godsend" makes the idea more effective.

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
Travel Blues
- Published: April 2017
Poem About The The Rigors Of Travel

in Humorous Poems

A voyage abroad with my good wife Maude turned into a real mess
In need of some rest in Budapest, about all I got was stress
Then in France I took a chance on some pork a little too rare
I so regret that Monsieur's toilette was very crowded there

A voyage abroad with my good wife Maude turned into a real mess
In need of some rest in Budapest, about all I got was stress
Then in France I took a chance on some pork a little too rare
I so regret that Monsieur's toilette was very crowded there

We never found out if the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plains
Because in Barcelona and again in Pamplona, I had severe head pains
Many a folk strolled through churches baroque, the greatest in the area
Only I felt blue stretched out on a pew, certain I had malaria

Europe had been tough, really rough, things had gotten out of hand
So we gathered our stuff and left in a huff to visit the holy land
Then I tripped on a boulder and bruised my shoulder; alas, we had to leave
'Cause wearing a sling in the early spring is awkward in Tel Aviv

Maude was irked that nothing had worked; still she said with a smile
"Let's conform and go someplace warm, maybe a tropical isle"
But a ruptured achilles in the Antilles I accomplished with astonishing ease
It laid me low, don't you know, as an intestinal disease in Belize

Clearly time to abort so we cut our trip short and headed to Colorado
To see the Canyon with mules for companions and demonstrate our bravado
No need for applause or an ovation because of anything we did dramatic
Just find me a shrink who doesn't drink and treats problems psychosomatic
More...
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- Stories 0
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- Favorited 2
- Votes 35
- Rating 3.69

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Poems by Alan Balter

The Lake

I wrote this poem for my wife. Together, we have shared a magnificent 42 year love affair, world travel, and 14 healthy and otherwise terrific grandchildren. I hope you enjoy my poem and will consider it in your contest and for publication.

Travel Sickness

I'm a retired university professor who has turned to poetry in his retirement to preserve his wife's sanity. She maintains that having me around 24 hours a day is as bit of astretch. Preposterous!!