Monday, February 29, 2016

Chicken Big, 43



Frightening Doggerel

Dirty Story: rupophobia

She knew her abject fear of dirt
Would one day very badly hurt
Her prospects. So she bought a skirt—

A clean one, but she washed it eight 
More times—just being sure. Her date
That night was very weird—and late

But when he said he hated mess,
She went to buy a wedding dress.
Their life together—great success!

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Chicken Big, 42



Frightening Doggerel

Froggy Went A-Courtin’: ranophobia

The Princess was afraid of frogs:
They lived in mucky ponds and bogs.

So she was really quite surprised
When she one weekend realized

That one male frog was kind of cute—
And had appealing ways, to boot.

So then she kissed him on the lips—
Her fears then went into eclipse.

In fact, she claimed he was a prince,
Though she has never seen him since.

He’d dived right back into the bog,
This discombobulated frog.

He found a distant lily pad,
And there he croaked, “Have I been bad?

What made that woman try to bite?
That kind of thing just isn’t right!”

He fell asleep. His dream was big—
An amorous (but bossy) pig.

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Chicken Big, 41



Frightening Doggerel

So Fire Me! Pyrophobia

A fireman, Donald feared all fire—
Which seems so odd (and somewhat dire).

His colleagues were alarmed by him—
Were filled, in fact, clear to the brim

With pure disgust, with full disdain.
And then—a fire on Terror Lane!

And Donald said he couldn’t go—
He said that he was sick, you know?

“So fire me!” Smiling. Coffee cup.
And so those firemen lit him up.

Friday, February 26, 2016

Chicken Big, 40



Frightening Doggerel

Stumble: psellismophobia

My boyhood fear of stuttering
Would often keep me silent or
Reduce me just to muttering
When I would speak. (A chore.)

The years went on, and Father Time
Resolved (a bit) my twisted tongue.
And now I have to say that I’m
(A little) better than when young.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Chicken Big, 39



Frightening Doggerel

Harry Situation: pogophobia

It seemed so odd that Harry had
A fear of beards. Because his dad
Had grown one (just a foolish fad).

And other figures he admired—
Like Lincoln, who, when he expired,
Was sporting one. (And then Booth fired.)

But lost in the deep wilderness,
Poor Harry couldn’t shave—a mess!
And what was next? No need to guess:

Our Harry loved his hirsute look—
Just trying it was all it took.
He wrote a memoir—awesome book!

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Chicken Big, 38



Frightening Doggerel

Fatal Oops: placophobia

He had a fear of tombstones, but
He was a stupid perp.
He moved to Tombstone, where, I fear,
He met fierce Wyatt Earp.

And bullets flew—the kind that missed,
The kind that always kill.
And now he has a tombstone there
Atop the famed Boot Hill. 

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Chicken Big, 37



Frightening Doggerel

Whale of a Fear: phallainophobia

Don had a thorough fear of whales,
But fearful that the local jails

Would house his wayward son,
Don, Sr. quickly thought of one

Solution: yes, a whaling trip
Aboard that mighty whaling ship,

The Pequod—yes, that famous boat
With Captain Ahab. All she wrote.

For Moby-Dick again arose
And brought the Pequod to its close.

And Ishmael, floating in the tide,
Saw Don as he slipped right inside

The whale. And there, poor Don could see
Old Jonah was preparing tea.

“So welcome, Don,” old Jonah said.
“It’s not that bad here—being dead.

And do you like your tea with cream?”
And wondered Don, “Is this a dream.”

Nope.

Monday, February 22, 2016

Chicken Big, 36



Frightening Doggerel

The Ghost Is Toast: phasmophobia

Young Casper grew up fearing ghosts,
A fear that grew from bad to worse.
The thought of them caused him to curse.
He dreamed of flights to distant coasts.

But then he learned what he feared most:
His mother finally told the truth
To this poor very frightened youth:
“Oh, Casper, Casper, you’re a ghost!"

And Casper scratched his puzzled head.
He stared in wonder at his mom,
Who just had dropped this awful bomb.
“So, Mother, you and I are dead?”

She nodded. He said, “I won’t boast,
But, Mom, I now will promise you
That I will be both bold and true—
And I will be a friendly ghost!”

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Chicken Big, 35



Frightening Doggerel

Eat or Be Eaten: phagophobia

Throughout his short and hungry life
He dreaded eating. And his wife
Despaired of ever finding food
That possibly would help his mood.

He also feared those carnivores
Who used us for their grocery stores.
So to be eaten? Or to eat?
Both questions knocked him off his feet.

Till one day, SCUBA diving, he
Completely solved the mystery:
He ate some candy from the park,
Dived in, was eaten by a shark. 

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Chicken Big, 34



Frightening Doggerel

Serpentine: ophidiophobia

Among his very worst mistakes—
This guy who feared all kinds of snakes—
Was thinking that he’d seen some fakes

When he saw rattlesnakes atop
His bed. They bit him—wouldn’t stop
Until his wife called “Help!” A cop

Arrived, but he was much too late,
It seems our snake-guy had a date
With hungry Death. And such is Fate. 

Friday, February 19, 2016

Chicken Big, 33



Frightening Doggerel

Snowman’s Dilemma: pagophobia

Yes, Frosty’s in a quandary:
He is a snowman, through and through—
But fears the snow, insensibly.
What should poor frightened Frosty do?

He has a brilliant answer, yes—
He hooks up to a battery
And moves to Florida (no stress!)
And takes a new nameWatery. 

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Chicken Big, 32



Frightening Doggerel


Rain, Rain, Go Away!  Ombrophobia

He really feared the falling rain—
It didn’t matter, strong or light;
He felt that something wasn’t right.
It’s complicated to explain.

Perhaps it was the growing dark?
Or maybe he just hated wet?
But he could simply not forget
About that time—his father’s ark.

The animals, the carpentry,
The rain that wouldn’t ever stop,
The work he did for Noah (Pop).

(And now …)


He screams at rain incessantly. 

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Chicken Big, 31



Outlook Cloudy: nephophobia

She feared, I fear, a lot of things,
And one she wished were not allowed,
No matter all the good it brings,
And that, of course, would be a cloud.

A single one would frighten her—
Yes, right inside her very core.
She wept; she couldn't even stir.
Her raven’s cry was “Nevermore!”

But clouds, of course, ignored her fear,
Continued bringing shade and rain.
And she got worse from year to year
Until a cloud moved in her brain.

And then, beclouded every day,
She feared no more those terrors old.
She very slowly slipped away
Into a world by clouds controlled. 

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Chicken Big, 30



Frightening Doggerel



Naked Fear: nudophobia

Okay, so I'm afraid of nudes—
Don't be judgmental, all you dudes.

There's something creepy … human flesh—
’Specially when it's not that fresh.

Like, you know, all that zombie meat—
Not something I would care to eat!

But zombies—even in the dawn—
Are modest—keep their old clothes on!

Monday, February 15, 2016

Chicken Big, 29



Frightening Doggerel


Fog Alarm: nebulaphobia

Oh my! Carl feared the freaking fog—
More than he feared a barking dog—
More than he feared a quicksand bog.

But most of all (perhaps I'll Tweet?)
Carl’s fear became the most complete
With fog that comes on little cat feet. 

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Chicken Big, 28


Frightening Doggerel


Slimy Rhymy: myxophobia

I know you've had an awful time.
I know that you're afraid of slime.

And so I have to ask you, Doug,
The reason you have wed a slug?

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Chicken Big, 27



Frightening Doggerel


Please, Oh Please, No Memories: mnemophobia

He had no fears of birds or bees,
Of monsters or of soaring trees.
His feared his many memories.

Oh, sure, he’d sometimes been so bad—
Illegal, some, but just a tad.
He was a fairly normal lad.

But later on it just grew worse,
For in his mind he would rehearse
That time he robbed his mother’s purse,

The time he kicked the family dog,
And hit his brother with a log,
And called his sister “such a hog.”

And later, thinking of disease,
Imagining his final wheeze:
“At least I’ll have no memories!”

Friday, February 12, 2016

Chicken Big, 26



Frightening Doggerel


Verse Curse: metrophobia

He wanted to write poetry,
But had a problem—deep and wide:
He was afraid of prosody.
A poem made him run and hide.

Try as he could, he could not write—
The fear just wouldn't leave his brain.
A friend first noticed, “Dude ain't right.”
And then our Dude went pure insane.

Throughout the day he raved and raved—
He really did it all the time.
They knew he could not be saved—
And all his ravings were in rhyme!

Thursday, February 11, 2016

Chicken Big, 25



Frightening Doggerel


Dark Bark: lygophobia

The dog was boarding Noah’s ark—
But that poor critter feared the dark.

He saw old Noah on the deck
And asked for help: “Hey, what the heck!

If you want me to be alive,
I must have light—or not survive!”

And Noah said, “I'll help you, pooch,
But never let me see you mooch

Here on the deck.” The dog agreed
But had some fun there, guaranteed.

The diet on the ark was slim—
And had a big effect on him.

He lost a lot of doggy fat,
But soon on high Mt. Ararat

He found his way back on the ground
And mentally was very sound.

His fear of darkness—gone away.
Though he preferred the light of day. 

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Chicken Big, 24



Frightening Doggerel


All Washed Up: loutrophobia

It freaked him out to take a bath—
He feared it all, from splash to wash.
It nearly made him cry, by gosh.
And the result? Well do the math.

His friends soon ditched him, one by one.
His boss informed him, “Man, you stink!”
And soon these factors made him think:
“Is all my social life now done?”

And so he then began to seek
A girl who never bathed at all.
He found her in a donkey stall.
And now they love, they coo, they reek. 

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Chicken Big, 23



Frightening Doggerel


Duane’s Twister Trouble: lilapsophobia

In Oklahoma, when a lad,
He feared tornadoes: They were bad!
Such twister fears that boy had had.

There was no Oz and Dorothy stuff—
No, those were stories full of fluff.
And very soon he’d had enough

Of roaring noises in the night,
Of swirling funnels (dark not bright)—
They even killed his appetite.

And so, grown up, he left the plain
And moved southeast, our friend Duane,
But died there in a hurricane. 

Monday, February 8, 2016

Chicken Big, 22



Frightening Doggerel


Lakey Shaky: limnophobia.

How could I have a fear of lakes?
It seems like one of Life’s mistakes.

It’s true I really love the land
And think that lakes should all be banned.

Lacustrine lovers should be shot
(Or locked away if they are not).

And so I say, for goodness sakes,
Let’s dry up all those stupid lakes.

And then I’ll say good-bye to Fear,
See Loch Ness Monsters disappear.

A smile will crease my happy face
As I enjoy this lake-less place.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Chicken Big, 21



Frightening Doggerel


Scared Tired: kopophobia.

Her kopophobia, she said,
Was making her too tired.
And she was scared so thoroughly
She actually expired. 

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Chicken Big, 20



Frightening Doggerel


Blue about the New: kainophobia

Oh, she was frightened by the new—
Not mildly bothered, nor just blue—
But terrified, yes, through and through.

Her clothing came from ancient days—
As did her meals and all her ways.
Including language—word and phrase.

But then one day she found a guy—
He was as weird—this is no lie.
And then they … oh, we shouldn't pry.

Let's give them both some privacy
(The same we like, both you and me)
To do their thing so happily! 

Friday, February 5, 2016

Chicken Big, 19



Frightening Doggerel


Wrong Idea: ideophobia

She feared ideas—good or bad.
They all, for her, were frightening.
She hated, too, the ones she had
In summer, autumn, winter, spring.

So when ideas came to her—
No matter what the time of day—
She slapped herself into a blur,
And all ideas went away. 

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Chicken Big, 18



Frightening Doggerel


Gone (from) Fishin’: icthyophobia

His boyhood’s greatest single wish
Was that he’d never see a fish.

They frightened him, those swimming things
That had no lungs, no fur, no wings.

His parents tried so hard to teach
Him. Took him to a nearby beach,

A nice place—like a public park.
But he got eaten by a shark.

The moral? Here it’s very clear:
There sometimes is a cause for fear. 

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Chicken Big, 17



Frightening Doggerel


Sleepy-Creepy: hypnophobia

She didn’t want to fall asleep—
The very thought just made her weep,
And so she never counted sheep

Or tried in any sort of way
To fall asleep. Then one dark day
She thought it was too dark to play

Outside. And then the lights went off.
She thought she heard a monster’s cough.
She tried her very best to scoff.

But Sleep itself appeared to her.
He looked just like a foggy blur.
“What are you doing here, strange sir?”

She asked. “It’s just to help you, dear,”
He said—and waved around her head
A wand. And then she seemed so dead.

But she was not, of course. Just full
Asleep—and loving it. The wool
Of many sheep had shown the pull

Of counting, which, of course, she’d done—
She’d counted sheep, yes every one.
And learned that math and sleep are fun.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Chicken Big, 16



Frightening Doggerel


A Son of Fear: heliophobia

He was his parents’only son.
That’s right—you heard me: only one.
And this kid really feared the sun.

He stayed indoors the whole day long.
(Was he a vampire? Nah, you’re wrong.
He hated blood, was not too strong.)

One day Apollo made a call.
“What’s up with you?” he  asked. “Does all
This sunshine really make you bawl

When you are in it?” “Yes, it’s so,”
The boy replied. “And now, I know,
I think it’s time for you to go.”

Apollo’s chariot flew away.
The more it rose, the more the day
Grew brighter, lost the foggy grey

Of morning. So the kid went on,
Spent all his days—so sad—withdrawn
From noon, from evening, from the dawn.

Much later—very old—he died.
His will said: “Put the grave inside.”
His fear had only multiplied.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Chicken Big, 15



Frightening Doggerel

No Fun: hedonophobia

He had no pleasures in his life—not one.
In fact, the very word alone—yes, fun

Would send him sprinting from whatever room
That he was in. So soon they called him “Zoom.”

Perhaps a love affair would save the day?
He saw her. Panicked. Then he zoomed away.