humor

Poetic Injustice

Afloat in red stilettos, hair, nails and lips

Shimmering in black satin, taught about the hips

Blue green eyes sparkle as they glance my way

Smile wide across her face, yet I’ve nothing to say

*

Subtle hand reaching softly touches mine

Nervously reacting I nearly spilled her wine

Leaning ever closer, whispering in my ear

Sweet sounds alluring, words I’ve dreamt to hear

*

Standing stunned, throbbing chest

Twisted tongue on a tortured quest

A racing mind all aflutter

An uncertain stutter I did utter

*

With this mutter she did chortle

A pen less poet’s just a mortal

~*~

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Laughing for Change

Today’s the day I change the world,
my fingers crossed, blankets hurled.
The rising sun lights up my day.
It matters not my sky is gray.
~
First it’s coffee as I check the news.
Feeling good I dodged the blues.
Next I’ll write, so here we go.
What we’ll find I don’t know.
~
Every day is an unknown path,
so veer towards love, and avoid the wrath.
Share your joy with all you meet.
Make someone smile your daily feat.
~
Laughing’s great, then happiness nearer.
I laugh a lot when I look in the mirror.
Perhaps the key’s our point of view.
I feel the change, now do you?

~*~
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Dreaming Dreams Dreamt

Risen from the depths of gloom and dread,
cobwebs wiped from my sleepy head.
I awoke to a day of bright sunshine.
I looked out the window to see the world was mine.
~
To the bathroom I went to do my thing.
Perched was I as the birdies sing.
I then strode to the mirror and to my surprise;
the bags were gone from beneath my eyes.
~
My hair was perfect with none out of place.
The wrinkles of time were now gone from my face.
I raced downstairs to greet this new day.
I skipped and danced every step of the way.
~
While making my coffee an alarm I heard.
I thought to myself, now that seems absurd.
Next thing I knew I was back in bed,
pulling the covers from over my head.
~
My room was the same, still dark and gray.
Cold and wet was predicted today.
The nightmare passed but the dream still unclear.
But awakened was I to awake with her near.

~*~
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Fluff n’ Stuff

My mind is blank and I don’t know why.
I watched the sun rise in the sky.
I’ve got my pencil and a pad.
The day’s bright and temp’s not bad.
~
The news is filled with lots of stuff.
Some of it’s scary but most just fluff.
Life is good, I can’t complain.
I feel great, I have no pain.
~
I’ve things to do and the list is long.
Or do nothing but that feels wrong.
I’m not too bothered when I can’t write.
I might tomorrow if not tonight.
~
Just a start is usually all I need,
a couple of words to plant the seed.
Then the wheels turn and the page is filled.
Good or bad, again I’m thrilled.
~
So I’ll keep you posted as to my progress.
Hopefully I’ll have success.
But if not, that too is OK.
I’ll say good morning some other way.

~*~
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Too Much

I’m starting to think my phone’s a crutch.
It’s found in my hand far too much.
I glance at the news every ten minutes or so.
And the weather’s known wherever I go.
~
When I’m bored I’ve got games to play.
And there’s blogs I check every day.
My music’s there with more to explore.
I now have no reason to go out the door.
~
I’ve got mail and text and a video chat.
I could take selfies, but I don’t do that.
But I do like the camera and it’s often used.
Apparently I’m sneaky, or so I’m accused.
~
The flashlight illuminates the darkest of night.
And the calculator’s cool when I want numbers right.
There’s also a calendar to plan out my day.
And a G.P.S. to help guide my way.
~
I could write a story but typing’s a pain.
I could try my thumbs but see little to gain.
I can search the web for whatever I choose.
I’ve got alarms to disrupt my snooze.
~
And there’s more I’m sure but I don’t care,
I kinda wish it wasn’t even here.
Oh and the phone, that’s not used too much,
because I still prefer an analog touch.
~
This poem could go on for days on end,
I could type it all and just hit send.
It might not be finished, but no one would know.
Oh darn it’s ringing, I gotta go.

~*~

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Getting Up

***

Getting up should be forbid!

It’s too early for a kid.

Hiding not from what I did.

Under blankets – there I hid.

*

If just to sleep late – I would.

And dream all day – I could.

I want sleep, but wake I should.

Getting up is never good.

*

Getting up is what I dread.

Hair is tossed up on my head.

Mouth tastes yucky, eyes red.

Cold piggy’s dangling from bed.

*

Then they’re tickled by my dad.

Got right up but I’m not mad.

Smiles and sunshine bright, I’m glad.

Getting up was not so bad.

*

The End

~

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Distraction Traction

By day distracted with thoughts of you.
By night distracted with the work I do.
My sleep’s not good and diet worse.
I think exercise sounds like a curse.

Dreams bring solace asleep or awake.
Love is felt when your hand I take.
Satisfaction overwhelms when we kiss.
Our moments together are always bliss.

The past is gone, no time for blame.
With pen in hand this mind I’ll tame.
The future’s calling clear and loud.
My heart is certain, my heads in a cloud.

The day ahead leaves little choice.
Tomorrows together we’ll rejoice.
For it is you that I’m profoundly attracted.
I’d finish this poem but now I’m distracted.

~*~
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Poultry Dreams

In the name of man’s greed and chicken feed,
a farmer hatched his scheme to succeed.
He’d create a chicken with numerous wings.
Then, he too, could soar with the like’s kings.
~
Wings sell well but they sell way too cheap.
But if he had more the more he would reap.
He mortgaged his house and sold his truck.
He kept his old dog who brought him luck.
~
His wife kicked him out to sleep in the hay.
The breeding was started the very next day.
Time quickly passed and soon it was a year.
Most thought him a fool, although sincere.
~
With a cock-a-doodle-do he rose with the sun.
The day would be his, full of pride, joy and fun.
He sprinted to the house to fetch his ex-wife,
who had recently remarried to start a new life.
~
They walked to the barn, after some yelling.
The closer they got the more they were smelling.
With the odor intense, the farmer opened the door.
And with one big swoosh his hopes were no more.
~
His most wonderous chickens all flew the coop.
And the poor farmer left with only their poop.
The lesson of course being evolution’s not a race.
And those who disbelieve get egg on their face.

~*~
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Seconds

Awaiting the sunrise,
starlight fills sleepy eyes,
coffee’s brewing brighter skies.
~
I feel today’s a happy day.
Clearing is the persistent gray.
And spring’s finally on its way.
~
Summer’s next, heart’s to thaw.
The beats of two inspire with awe.
Sunset’s as one an unimagined draw.
~
With a change of hue fall we’ll thirst,
a future’s quenched well-rehearsed.
But I think I need my second cup first.

~*~
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Alesha the Cat

Alesha_poem_skittell

Daddy, daddy come quick and see.

There are big eyes staring at me.

In the window there, can you see?

It’s a kitty looking back at me.

.

Please can we keep her, can we please?

I’ll wash her good if there are fleas.

We gave her some milk on a plate.

It seemed like hours I had to wait.

.

Then mom came home, was kitty there?

Yes! – She’s napping on the porch chair.

Mom and dad had a little chat.

They called me in and there I sat.

.

Hoped to hear we have a new pet.

“First” they said “a trip to the vet”

“Vet” I said “whatever is that?”

They said “a doctor for your cat.”

.

Found a box, she fit just right.

Curled in a towel ” out of sight.

Into the car and off we go.

To a new place I didn’t know.

.

Never been to a vet before.

Many new things behind the door.

There’s lots of cats and dogs of course.

But shocked to see a tiny horse.

.

Saw a snake and a talking bird.

Said some words I’ve never heard.

The vet was fun just like the zoo.

But I was glad when we were through.

.

We brought her home, she disappeared.

Hid under the bed like mom feared.

To get her out we had a plan.

Gave her some tuna from a can.

.

That didn’t work, mom tried a trick.

She tied some yarn on a long stick.

I wiggled the yarn on the floor.

We saw a paw and then two more.

.

Next was a tail than furry head.

Now she’s out from under my bed.

Gave her a scratch as she ran past.

To the new food she ate too fast.

.

We gave her some time to explore.

She made a big mess on the floor.

Dad cleaned it up, almost got sick.

Mom finished the job; I said “Ick!”

.

And when done we all had a laugh.

Thankful our cat wasn’t a calf.

Then made a list for a quick shop.

A litter box was at the top.

.

Boxes and bags of this and that,

Much was needed for our new cat.

While we were out dad took a nap.

Our new kitty curled on his lap.

.

She woke with a stretch and a purr.

Licking her paws and stripey fur.

Dad woke next and was surprised.

By his new friend’s big sleepy eyes.

.

He cuddled her close, scratched her ears.

Mom smiled, I thought I saw tears.

Then we all had a good giggle.

Watching kitty twist and wiggle.

.

Mom picked her up, gave her a hug.

Put her down gently on the rug.

The cutest thing I ever did see.

But what to call my new kitty?

.

She’ll be Alesha, our cat “A”.

Like in the book I read today.

By a doctor who wrote fun rhymes.

I’ve read them all oodles of times.

.

Now’s time to sleep, our day is done.

I hope tomorrows just as fun.

Tucked in bed, Alesha and me.

Soon to dream of little cat “B”.

.

The End

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Available at: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468855

Trying Times

Please excuse me for this poems’ short length.
It seems finding things is not my strength.
I had started a poem and it was great.
But I lost it and it’s getting really late.
~
But I know the importance of writing every day,
especially when there’s nothing to say.
How will you know anything if you don’t try?
Nothing’s ever answered without asking why.
~
I tried to find my poem but failed miserably.
But it’ll turn up, just you wait and see.
It may not be great when done and that’s O.K.
I’ll just try again, each and every day.

~*~
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Rest in Fleece

One more month and spring is here.
When freezing to death’s no longer a fear.
We’ll pack our sweaters, hats and coats.
Soon the bay will fill with boats.
~
Flowers will bloom and temps will rise.
Trees will green before longing eyes.
Days get longer, nights a bit cool.
But now we wait, because time’s cruel.
~
I don’t hate winter or the cold.
But those months are growing old.
I do like autumn but spring is still best.
So for one more month I’ll just rest.

~*~
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Getting High

I like to write lots of stuff but I don’t know why.
And I’ll probably keep doing it until the day I die.
I write a little something almost every day,
but if I never make a dime that’s still OK.
~
I wake up early everyday right around sunrise.
I guzzle morning coffee to open up my eyes.
And when the kitchen’s lit up bright,
out comes my notebook then I start to write.
~
I never know where I’ll go or if I’ll go at all.
There’s a chance I’ll draw a blank but that chance is small.
Pages now fill my desk and the pile’s getting high.
But that’s a poem for another day, so for now goodbye.

~*~
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Poets Bond

~

I want to be a secret agent

Passport full of places went

Double O’Steven will be my name

Deeds done, others to blame

.

Gadgets in kit bond to tell

Code’s sheathed if to dwell

As a writer undercover I’ll be

A life expected in obscurity

.

Armed with poetic license to kill

Never the bullet only the quill

Hearts broken come with the job

Words unspoken said with a sob

.

Cloaked with dagger to stabilize

Bored to tears obscure shaded eyes

Faceless unseen ready to pounce

Heads roll the tales announce

.

Shadowy figures have no fear

When lights on them they disappear

This chapter unknown forever lurks

A page turned another’s in the works

 

~*~

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Little Dudes in my Head

Inward adventures in a cavernous space

Peeking through slits at upside-down space

Bouncing about in a big pile of goo

Any’s too many but none’s too few

~

I can never decide what I should say

I think the little dudes want it that way

They scurry about, finding things I forgot

At times they hide things, they should have not

~

Sometime they edit, sometimes they write

They’re always angry when I turn off the light

Sometimes they’re gone for weeks or more

When they return they’ve much to explore

~

Seldom if ever a good or kind word

I keep my mouth shut so they’re not heard

I scream in a whisper, they lull with a shout

They cause great sorrow but alone I’m without

~

Who’s good or bad is never quite clear

Repercussions of choice is what I fear

A constant tug-of-war, each has a side

I’m in the middle with nowhere to hide

~

Their kicking and screaming can be real bad

But more loyal friends I’ve never had

We all share the pain, though I the blame

We share a laugh that’s never the same

~

It could be worse, or so I’ve been told

I guess I’ll decide when we’re all old

~*~

  Sck072515