humor

Buggered

Every glitch finds a way;
to fix itself or wreck the day.
Sometime things don’t work as planned.
Sometime plans must be panned.
~
A cat with fleas is truly bad.
A ruined trip is surely sad.
Heads in a tizzy, tensions on high,
sometime maybes just won’t fly.
~
But some time things do work out.
And all ends well where there was doubt.
The cat’s O.K. and the kid’s on her jet.
And a story’s to tell, this I’ll bet.

~*~
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Switching Gears

My poet switch has gone awry;
I want to write, so I don’t know why.
In sit in the chill this Sunday morn,
my thoughts warm but I’m torn.
~
I’d rather not force the words to go;
I prefer a natural flow.
Love abounds and all is well.
My brain’s working, as far as I can tell.
~
My darling sleeps whilst I scribble.
But today she’ll wake to only dribble.
Maybe it’s just this change in time.
And tomorrow I’ll return to standard rhyme.

~*~
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To Be Two, Too

Each other’s person is half a pair,
each moment’s doubled when two’s to share.
Work’s divided and troubles half,
one will smile, and both will laugh.
~
Feelings felt always in sync,
every blink’s seen as a wink.
When each is first there’s no last.
With only tomorrows there’s no past.
~
When one is lo, the other ve,
when one’s hi, both are free.
Two hands held the future’s bright.
And all that’s left is to be alright.

~*~
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Foggy but Clear

Counting the seconds before the rain,
morning fog has fogged my brain.
The hour early but work is waiting,
I have to go there’s no debating.
~
My love slumbers while I think.
Her morning poem is on the brink.
Minutes pass without a word.
But not to write would be absurd.
~
I see her sleeping in my mind.
A more equal love I’ll never find.
Nightly visions I wish to keep,
I dream of her when I’m asleep.
~
Another hour just slipped past,
she’ll soon awake so I’ll write fast.
Though nothing deep in her poem today,
fortunately words aren’t love anyway.

~*~
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Serendipity

A busy day has just begun;
I got up late, no time for fun.
So it’s off to work in a flash,
I’d rather not but I need the cash.
~
The time is near when time’s my own.
I’m not too old but surely grown.
Retirement’s to be my second chance.
I’ll write all day and enjoy romance.
~
I’ll still get up early, I like the dawn.
I’ll take out the dog to pee on the lawn.
The sun will rise and words will flow.
There’ll be no rushing, I’ve nowhere to go.
~
But that time’s a few weeks away,
my feelings then I cannot say.
But I’m thinking I’ll yell YIPPY!
Then go home for a life of serendipity.

~*~
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A Hint of Poetry

There’s poetry for hate and for love.
There are poems for hawks and the dove.
Some are short, some quite long,
some add music and make a song.
~
There are poems that are happy but many are sad.
There’s poetry that’s good while none really bad.
Some poems rhyme and others not,
some just a little, some rhymesalot.
~
There’s effort made to make you smile.
There are jokes thrown in once in a while.
Sometimes yes and sometimes no,
some get posted and others go.
~
There’s poetry that’s biographical.
There are funny poems but this one laughable.
Someday I’ll write a book for print,
someday when I get a hint.

~*~
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Never Too Late

I woke up really late and had no time to play,
so I couldn’t write your poem today.
But tomorrow is another day,
maybe then my brain will play.
~
My heart is full of love;
my soul is filled with bliss.
My thoughts are now in shambles;
with each blink I feel your kiss.
~
Time now has no meaning,
we’re together or I wait.
Tho my age curve’s now receding,
some things are better late.

~*~
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Click Clack Kiss Smack

Online dating, what a trip,
in the Arctic I’d rather strip.
It’s a place without written rules.
And the poet’s craft bears no jewels.
~
A sea of faces afloat on a screen,
choices made virtually unseen.
Definitions there have little meaning,
optimistic opinions largely leaning.
~
While kisses await when on track,
misplaced words lead to a smack.
The high and lows beyond compare,
all’s to expose if you dare.
~
Much can be learned about ourselves,
surprises abound when one delves.
While at this stage of life options few,
reality’s virtue’s now less true.
~
Fates may collide with a single click,
or hopes shattered just as quick.
Now looking forward and thinking back,
my head types with a clack.

~*~
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Make Poems Great Again

A fetish for takers and feckless of makers,
believers of fakers and the muckrakers,
a sea of red buttons seen from above,
swaying to orange for whom they love.
~
The air is heated with hate that’s spewed.
But that’s cool if already screwed.
Mirrors shine on what’s not there,
while reflection dulls what’s to fear.
~
A line in the ocean’s making waves,
digging ever deeper graves.
Float if be as bobbing naves,
but beware or soon be slaves.
~
No half or full with no cup,
once buried there is no up.
What lies below lies above,
only truth can raise all with love.

~*~
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Just Barely a Story

This is just a story so please bear in mind,
I’m barely a writer so please be kind.
I’m trying not to write of beer, bears or being bare,
though a nude, drunken bear a fun story to share.
~
Sometimes inspiration flows.
Other times it’s I don’t knows.
Some days the sun shines bright.
Others, it’s forever night.
~
Now back to bears, just a quick sidebar.
It won’t take long, I won’t go far.
Once upon a time there were surely more than three.
And some lived in houses like you and me?
~
The thought of that requires consideration,
but better still observation.
So with the flow starting to show,
it’s off to the forest I go.
~
Hours pass and sleep consumes.
The night unseen and sunshine resumes.
A hearty breakfast with tea and honey,
yesterday’s dread now seems funny.
~
Oh! I have to stop; I’ve run out of time.
I found their beer and I’m full of rhyme.
But now imagining fear because near are the bear.
I’ll find my clothes later, I don’t care.

~*~
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Longings

Suspended in the depths of gloom and despair,
there death is longed and life’s feared.
Where darkness consumes all’s lost,
with one breath the line crossed.
~
But that’s not today and that’s good.
The sun’s shining as it should.
The air chilled but warming’s near.
Spring’s now longed, none’s to fear.

~*~
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101

Charting points of worry and worth,
noted a pattern of mindset and mirth.
Positives charge with a forward flow.
Negatives draw from cycles that glow.
~
Graphically clear’s lines emerge.
And time’s plotting more to surge.
The future’s what we’ll become,
when the whole is the sum.

~*~
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Let’s

The harder one works the easier it gets.
The grosser it is the more one nets.
The less you gamble the safer the bets.
Jackpots may allude but so will regrets.
~
All that glitters not gold, like sunsets.
The more thought is less the debts.
The higher the notes the wider one frets.
The more down the more upsets.
~
The more learned the less one forgets.
The more tolerance is less threats.
Climbs less long the more one jets.
Couples always pair but never sets.
~
The more the better never abets.
The more lost the more one sweats.
Appetites appeased the more one wets.
The more prepared is the less not yets.
~
If all could love all, we’d all be pets.
And if all loved forever, we’d all be vets.
From the onset there’s no a preset or resets.
There’s only mindsets and begets.
~
After all, the world is just half duets.
So let’s all play well together, yes lets.

~*~
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Made Up Fiction

I think I feel a story coming on.
I’ll need a character, I’ll call him John.
And of course he’ll meet a girl.
I guess I’ll just name her Shirl.
~
I only did that for the rhyme.
But I’ll try a little harder next time.
The pair will meet on a lonely street.
John will ask where there’s a place to eat.
~
As luck would have Shirl’s on her way.
They ate, talked and laughed the rest of the day.
The sun long set and the check long paid.
The time was now for a plan to be made.
~
John thought to himself, what should I do?
His reasons for reservation are more than a few.
Shirl too was thinking exactly the same.
When the pieces are alike it’s no longer a game.
~
The conversation faded and they drifted apart.
Was it the fear of the end or of the start?
I wish this tale had a happier end.
But then again it’s all just pretend.

~*~
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Dig It

Sitting in silence alone with my thought,
thinking of time when quiet’s sought.
But time it seems does not align,
to my plans or grand design.
~
Intersections come to bear,
a train of thought gets us there.
Whistles and bells are sure to please,
with some steam we’ll never freeze.
~
We’ll shovel shit to eat some bread.
Or dig ever deeper into our head.
Pain’s always felt to reach the goal.
The track we choose carries our soul.
~
I play with words cos it’s fun.
And when I’m hollow, I’ll be done.

~*~
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In The Sow

Once upon a time,
I sat down to rhyme.
But the words just wouldn’t flow.
So I stood for a while,
I tried to smile.
But my face didn’t choose to go.
~
So I threw down my pen,
I said never again.
Never again I’ll seek to know!
I then sulked for a bit,
resisting a fit.
I didn’t want to put on a show.
~
Then I looked around twice,
saw everything was nice.
And I crouched down ever so slow.
While paying no mind,
I fell on my behind.
Embarrassment was mostly the blow.
~
Though just a stupid gaffe,
it kinda made me laugh.
Then again I began to grow.

~*~
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Dis

The state of disunion was on display,
saw it on TV, it disrupted my day.
Tho all the true colors were shining bright,
reality’s star shone black and white.
~
With disillusioned diatribe and distasteful demeanor,
words disbelieved if to be keener.
While this dystopian pageant was donned to impress,
hopefully next year he’s a different address.

~*~
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Goodnights & Bad

History tells of brother’s scorn,
clawing their rise with tooth and horn.
One’s to rest upon tomorrows throne,
a golden perch to call their own.
~
Eyed by others to take that place;
the hidden, visceral and puckered face.
With but one to thrive each will strive,
who will choice to stay alive?
~
While kings of yore as knight once shone,
kings that bore by night just moan.
But history bores so I’ll say no more,
mysteries conclude in days for sure.

~*~
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