humor

Morning (non-Haiku) Triku – Pearls of Wisdom

~

That Stinks

If the world were my

oyster, I’d be shucked, since I

don’t enjoy seafood.

~

Shaping Reality

Pearls true round seldom found,

they are but nature’s waste.

More are found truer round,

when man made of cheaper paste.

~

Appraising Tomorrow

Diamond’s when new sell quite a few.

Yet these gems of old are barely sold.

~*~

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Untamable

~

Near two centuries standing tall

Perched upon its foundation wall

Stone and rock stacked one at a time

Cracks are filled with mortar and lime

.

Plantings and pruning’s since time’s begun

Nature’s matured, the house and it one

Repairs are always but never to date

A new one’s found just of late

.

It seems there’s a door that escaped my gaze

It’s probably been there for days and days

It welcomed a visitor though I not aware

There’s plenty of room but I’d rather not share

.

A bed was found of rags and fleece

A trap was set for catch and release

The morning came and the trap’s shut tight

Catching the culprit that roams in the night

.

The walk was had on path well worn

Evicting another, my heart is torn

Bound in plastic to hide from the eye

Soon they’ll welcome the bright blue sky

.

With a careful flick and gentle tap

Out popped an alien from its trap

Oh what to do, Oh what to do

The mouse I caught is a shrew

.

Research was done, panic’s at rest

Contemplations had of what will be best

Plans conceived to search for the door

Or wait for winter when the problem’s no more

~*~

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Memorial Cliché

~

 A mean and petty old boss I once had,

made threats to all when he was mad.

“My pen’s mightier than the sword!” he’d say

“Bad recommendations will affect your pay.”

He was always looking to pick a fight.

So with my pen I poked him – to find he’s right.

~*~

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Poetic Fiction

~

If you’re in no hurry to go

then I’m in no hurry to stay

I’ll pack up my belongings

and be out by the end of the day

.

You can’t ever keep a job

Or even wash the clothes

Our meals served at the drive-thru

That’s where the money goes

.

The few dollars that remain

Is always spent on ink

The few hours that we share

Always your time to think

.

You lock yourself in a room

There you laugh, scream and cry

While I long for the silence

When one of us will die

.

If not for crumpled notes

Our stove would be always cold

Your hot and chilled emotions

Once steamy have gotten old

.

We haven’t kissed in a week

There’s been no love for a year

I’ve now begun to wonder

If love was ever there

.

Now you say you wrote a poem

That all the world should see

It’s a poem of love and devotion

But this one’s just for me

.

If these words of passion

Are as true as you say

Rumpled sheets await

There’s no need to leave today

.

But if they’re not

as all other times before

My future will unfold

beyond your paper door

~*~

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Four Leaf For All

Mornings fog this St. Paddy’s day

A chill in the air but spring’s on the way

Life’s returning from winter’s ghost

Time’s now, don your greens – share a toast

Rejoice with old friends and make some new

Tis the day Irish luck’s with all of you

We’ll bloom together, all’s chosen

All living green and having fun

Soon our days filled with sun

Saints all, when all are one

*

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