humor

Dreaming Valentine’s

So is the end of another Valentine’s Day,
all the confetti’s been vacuumed away.
Cards now stored neatly in a special drawer.
Dying flowers are thinned till there are no more.
~
The romantic dinner’s now just a memory.
The dessert was great but sure wasn’t free.
There are two candies left no one will eat,
one’s missing a bite and the other’s no treat.
~
Her dress was stained from wine I spilled.
The rest of the night I thought I’d be killed.
We woke the next morning and she’s still peeved.
But I’m still alive, so I was relieved.
~
I tried to kiss her and she yelled “go away!”
Then she went off about ruining her day.
The whole event gave me a terrible scare.
But all’s good now cos it was just a nightmare.

~*~
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Always Sunny Sometimes Funny

Valentine’s Day now is near.
But again I’ve no poem this year.
I find the day a stressful time,
my mind goes blank and I’ve no rhyme.
~
But I do have love and she loves me.
And the day’s still young, so we’ll see.
My pencil’s sharp and coffee’s ready,
the sun now risen, my hands still steady.
~
An hour’s past and words are few;
perhaps a card will have to do.
But just wait, I’m no quitter.
Though a bit lazy and a prolific sitter.
~
So I’ll take a break then try once more.
I’ve enough to say, that’s for sure.
I could write of the things she does for me.
And of the beauty she helps me see.
~
I could mention the way she makes me feel;
each day assured our love is real.
I must also include our morning kisses,
and how she exceeds all my wishes.
~
There’s also the snuggling every night,
and how wonderful she is in the morning light.
And how she makes my heartbeats race,
my worries vanished without a trace.
~
We both laugh a lot, though I’m not always funny.
Her tolerance’s high and disposition’s sunny.
Our future’s bright, what more can I say?
Oh yeah; Happy Valentine’s Day!

~*~
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Tis a Dali Recollection

Sitting quiet with an empty mug of Dali handled haste

Recollections of past mistakes, lessons not to waste

Bottoms dry, sticky drop sides, lip prints beckon more

Pouring fast without a rinse, that always forgotten chore

*

I pass the sink, I didn’t use, but visions tapped never forgotten

Fondly recalling a baby kitty, who with first glance I was smitten

She was a  tiny ball of ebony fluff that strayed from her mother

Found sickly and shy at a shelter, unwanted by all other

 *

Crusty with kitty litter and boogies I tried to give her a bath

And with a flash and a roar I released a pound of wrath

Water splashed and dishes flew as did my favorite mug

Later to be dissected from a wet and soapy rug

 *

Pieced back askew with frustration, dust, fur and fuzz

Now forever immortalized, better than it was

The glue eventually dried as did a smelly kitty snoozing on my lap

It would come to be her favorite place for a cozy nap

*

The mug still has some whiskers stuck in its bumpy glue

Though with each year passing it loses quite a few

Beloved kitty’s now passed after a long and happy stay

Leaving reminders of mistakes that came to be the better way

 *

Like the tasty sip’s that’s now savored from that Dali-handled mug

While quietly  savoring kitty’s memory with every wobbly chug

*

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Purgatory

~

Stairs climbed to a heavenly lair

Each step reluctant of the riser’s dare

The falls grow closer the higher I go

The ground grows distant with hell below

~

This tug-of-war is fought within

Pushing and pulling each a twin

When a journey’s long, all’s to win

With stich and glue all can grin

~

Time’s not direction with a start or end

There’s no give or take, none’s to defend

To counter clock’s never wise

It’s works concealed by the faces disguise

~

Incased to shield and hands that wind

Hands to watch to lose one’s mind

Minds lost seldom found

Seconds ticking to find sacred ground

~

With no end in sight, sight has no end

Starts at viewer, depths depend

Colors attract and shades divert

See the light or life’s inert

~

The stairs again beckon, to darkness they rise

Yet tread must I to rest sleepy eyes.

~*~

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Writewright Rite

Write by day if fear of night.

Write by night if fear of light.

Write of fear if there be a fright.

Write of joy if there be no plight.

Write with passion when love’s in sight.

Write with vision when all is bright.

Write when sad to feel all right.

Write when weak to feel the might.

Write to humor but never with spite.

Write to soothe and to excite.

Write for a voice but never a slight.

Write for yourself, don’t be uptight.

Now get your pens and write write write!!!

~*~

Sck112614

Awake

As a child I was longing to see;
those glorious times ahead of me.
The ocean called as did the stars.
Riches I’d have and fancy cars.
~
I’d marry a princess, have lots of kids.
I’ll do all the things that mom forbids.
I’d stay up late and eat lots of sweets.
I’ll sleep till noon on soft flannel sheets.
~
Teen years came, dreams went astray.
I dreaded school and my life in every way.
But off I trudged through rain and snow.
Where I was going I didn’t know.
~
Hair grew long and patience grew thin.
Trouble was found, most from within.
The rage was waning by senior year.
My future was waiting tied to a pier.
~
Adventures were had though not for long.
I did some things I knew were wrong.
The hammer fell then back on the street.
Many days traveled to get home and eat.
~
Dad was displeased, mom’s not surprised.
It was about my time to get civilized.
I rode the bus to work at the mill.
The paychecks earned were never to thrill.
~
My life, I thought, was now just a waste.
Decision made poorly and with great haste.
Dreams of the past seemed now far away.
Would the rest of my life be like today?
~
Options getting fewer, debts soon to grow.
Choices are but two, the time’s now to go.
At that very instant dreams came back in view.
As learning from the past will awaken you.

~*~
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Snow

Soon it’s fall, but first back to school,

days getting shorter, nights get cool.

Then the winter and with it snow,

wrapping the world in its glow.

Snow_poem_SK052014 (1)

We’ll build forts, make balls to throw.

So many things to do in the snow,

sledding and skiing, rolling in white.

Hoping for more snow every night.

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Morning’s good news, stay home from class.

Fun things to do with time to pass,

make a snowman with rocks for eyes,

that see’s all in cold winter skies.

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We’ll stay in and play or just talk.

Then shovel a long path to walk,

to the street though nowhere to go.

Everything’s closed because of the snow.

 Snow_poem_SK052014 (4)

Crusty piles; high, dirty and gray,

wetter and smaller each new day.

Snowman’s withered, springs on the way,

time to make up for our snow day.

 Snow_poem_SK052014 (5)

Waking one morning, snow’s no more,

instead there’s flowers by my door.

Springs arrived and welcome by all,

summers next and followed by fall

 Snow_poem_SK052014 (6)

Like the seasons our life goes round.

Searching for answers already found.

Around and around we all go,

waiting for summer then for snow.

*

The End

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Morning Triku #67 – Non-Optimal Optimism

Headlights –

.

Optimism is:

Writing an end to darkness

When there’s no bright side

*

.

Un-Free Times –

.

When do poets sell?

When all my time’s spent writing

Or thinking I can’t

*

.

Scientific Optimism –

.

Nature’s law shared in

Physics and psychology

Is that all things bounce

~*~

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Shades

Another day, another time,
what will be tomorrows rhyme?
A rocky past has taken its toll.
Still wonderful people surround my soul.

My head still filled with uncertainty.
And always will be, but that’s just me.
My words fill pages no one will see.
Pencils get shorter, I wish they were free.

Another day, another time,
life’s hard while dreams sublime.
My heart’s thawing from winters long.
My eyes see both right and wrong.

Moments are filled with surprise.
Youth traded becoming wise.
To question this is wiser still.
The time will come, I know it will.

Another rainbow in shades of gray,
another time, another day!

~*~
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Morning Triku XXXIII

Tomorrow:

Reluctant slumber

Half-a-wake dreams, awaiting

Fantasies of day

~

 Boom:

Mornings Burst – Coffee

Pencils Sharp – Ready – Waiting

Haiku Explosion

~

Rhyme Time:

Constant mind of rhymes

Can be annoying, sometimes

But better than chimes

~*~

Done-kuing:

 One hundred haiku

As of today, thirty three

Tri’s and this single

***

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Blithering

I sang a song never to be heard,
told a story that’s truly absurd.
Drew a picture no one’s ever seen.
Often I think of what could have been.
~
My mind’s made up to not get down.
I stand on my head when I frown.
I laughed at pain, tears I bled,
walked on air that I’ve been fed.
~
Money burns holes in pockets I’ve had.
Pant less I now go, never broke or sad.
Backwards I walk to not get old.
The future’s unknown, the past I’m sold.
~
Someday I’ll die, a party there’ll be.
Bring a date and slow dance with me.
Mark your calendar, I don’t know when.
But normal we all can be, until then.

~*~
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Morning Triku # 174 ~ Good Starts

No Down Side

Creativity’s
not about making things up,
it’s making things work.
~

Conundrum

If love made as much
as the time I spend writing,
I’d no time to write.
~

All Good

Love is beautiful,
when all else is not. Love is
all when from the heart.

~*~
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The Void

~
Bedtime soon and demons shall awake;
but with a soul gone there’s none to take.
The screams in my head scare the spirits away.
Nightmares fast-forward to the light of day.

The ghosts turn white when I yell boo.
And the Reaper can shove his sickle too.
Coz in reality horror lives and fantasy dies.
And sleep‘s just a void behind closed eyes.

~*~
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Ambiguity

Tomorrow’s poem might be my best.
It could be different from all the rest.
I have some ideas I’d like to share.
I’m just not sure if you’ll care.
~
The title for it I can’t decide.
But I’ll be searching far and wide.
I’m pretty sure it will rhyme.
As they do most of the time.
~
It may be funny with sad mixed in.
It could have numbers, they make me grin.
I have no end or much of a start.
When it’s done I hope it’s art.
~
Beginnings are somewhere, this might be it.
But if it’s not I don’t care one bit.
I’ll choose my words carefully, as you can see.
Cos I can’t be sure what’ll come out of me.
~
That sounds bad; maybe I’ll edit that out.
When something’s good there’s usually no doubt.
It’s time to go, but this chat’s been fun.
I’ll see you tomorrow with perhaps a better one.

~*~
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