Ticks

Time for a fix, my daily need.
It’s not booze, powder or weed.
It’s just words, but they won’t flow.
The sun’s high and I want to go!
~
Just a drop to get me through.
The lines ready and my pencil too.
My grass is bagged; I need a light.
The spark’s gone where once was light.
~
Wants wanting and desires to fulfill.
Caffeine’s pumping, sugar’s my pill.
Jone’s are calling, it’s time to split.
Habits habitual, mine’s now lit.

~*~
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Spirited

My poor guitar’s in need of strumming.
My morning poem’s not forthcoming.
Seems a house weighs on my brain.
Some might say that I’m insane.
~
But in the hills where trees abound,
behind a stone wall my paradise found.
A storied life I’m sure it’s had.
The next chapter’s mine and I’m glad.
~
Its life began in seventeen twenty.
Surely there are creaks and drafts aplenty.
It’s quite unusual, just one of a few.
It’s also quite large, it’s almost two.
~
Are there spirits? I don’t know.
But if there are I’m sure they’ll show.
And if there’s not that’s OK.
Maybe I’ll be one someday.

~*~
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Wrap It Up

I’m a little older now, I think I know what’s up.
I don’t go sniffin’ for shit like some young pup.
I keep my nose clean, and my head held up high.
The only way up is to reach for the sky.
~
Know what you’re sayin’ and who you’re talkin’ to.
Put a smile on your face and make the feeling true.
Help a stranger when in need, never passing blame.
Keep it real every day, this ain’t no stinkin’ game.

~*~
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Learn to Earn

Wealth isn’t measured by dollars;
it’s measured by our sense.
Money can’t buy happiness,
unless we’re happy with pretense.
~
Joy comes from simple pleasures,
like a sunset or a baby’s smile.
Laughter’s always free,
whether old or a juvenile.
~
Heath too is very important,
as our feelings always show.
We can’t make a living,
when life’s value we don’t know.
~
Though love can require work,
it yields our greatest return.
So invest your time in others.
And self-worth you’ll then earn.

~*~
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Foreign Concepts

~*~
Touched by humility with time to wait and see.
Humorously dashed to experiment in honesty.
Words can be precise but only when alone.
Much like life itself, it’s dark and damp beneath the stone.

A curious squirrel climbs a lilac to explore my porch.
We both wonder why I’m here.
The squirrel retreated though not defeated.
It is they who won, I remain seated.

Less I digress, more to be sure.
Life changes on a dime, I left to write with only rhyme.
Chaka baby beckons beyond, nostalgic breath I’m fond.
Dancing in an imaginary chair, day’s gray, air just fair.

Nicotine lingers, perhaps to know this first.
Sinking, swimming and drowning and yet still the thirst.
Thoughts flood of minutes, days, weeks and years.
Words flow when controlled by the moon and a sea of tears.

Laughter waves at depths unfathomable.
And the ring of life is forever shareable.
Journeys don’t end when the seeing changes.
Time begins anew when life engages.

My mind is weary; it’s a pile of abstract fluff with no thoughts to puff.
But I’ll write again tomorrow, cos enough is never enough.

*
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The Littlest Dragon Slayer

.

A little scared of our trip last year,

to the far north-lands, the reason unclear.

Mountains, forests and an ice-cold lake,

no swimming or castles of sand to make.

.

Fresh air and sunshine, stars in the sky,

camping and hiking, climb mountains high.

That didn’t sound like much fun to me,

I’d rather visit a nice warm sea.

.

Drive lasted hours, slumped in the backseat.

We ran out of snacks, then nothing to eat.

We read a new book of funny rhymes,

I fell asleep a couple of times.

.

Some stories were good, some I got bored,

some I laughed loudly, others I snored.

Arriving late in the darkness of night,

waking early to rising sunlight.

.

First we ate breakfast then a short hike.

Had lunch with dessert, what’s not to like.

Then a museum of the natives past,

legends of old and now fading fast.

.

Heard some stories, we saw a show.

My favorite was of long ago,

it was of a little kid like me.

The bravest kid there could ever be.

.

She was the daughter of the great chief.

He died protecting all from the thief,

who flew in the night stealing their food.

And the cause of their thousand-year feud.

.

The girl shortened her father’s long spear.

Then roamed the forest without a fear,

to find who took her father away.

Then slay the dragon, no time for play.

.

I laid in bed thinking of all I heard.

Remembered almost all, details blurred.

Woke the next morning ready to go,

to fill in the blanks I didn’t know.

.

I went to the shore before sunrise.

I climbed on the rocks. That wasn’t wise.

Had to know if the legend was true,

then fell in from slippery shoe.

.

Hit the water with a splash and scream.

I floated down and started to dream.

I woke up much later warm and dry.

But there’s no sign of bright morning sky.

.

I felt all around for a way out.

Then saw light from something’s big snout.

I screamed and jumped, bumped my head and then,

I knew I was in that dragon’s den.

.

Her nostrils grew bigger, warm and bright.

Would I be cooked for a tasty bite?

She started to laugh and I to cry.

Was I to live or was I to fry?

.

She said “Hello” in a dragon tone.

“Glad to see you, I’m always alone.”

I was much surprised to hear her speak.

Her nature was gentle, almost meek.

.

Now in the brightness of her warm light.

We sat and chatted into the night.

She told me the truths I had to know.

And when she’s done burping I could go.

.

Dragons can wait to burp but it’s slow.

Or blow out flames with a mighty glow.

A truly bad idea, we both think.

So we waited for her belly to shrink.

.

We waited and waited for hours or more.

So she could shrink and unblock the door.

And when most all of her gas gone away,

I could slip out to the light of day.

.

By now it’s late and dragon’s still plump.

Rocks all around, I sat on my rump.

She spoke of the last to be with her –

It was the littlest dragon slayer.

.

“She was three feet tall and very bold,

Not much more than eight or nine years old.

She charged at me with her tiny spear,

tears pouring down, she showed no fear.

.

She plunged the stick in my outstretched paw.

She tried pulling it out to poke me some more.

The tip broke off; I’ve had it since then,

tucked away safe in my dragons den.

.

The girls cause noble though a mistake.

Her dear father’s life I didn’t take.

He chased me into the dark of night.

Belly swollen, I couldn’t take flight.

.

I ran and ran then climbed a tall tree.

But the brave young chief followed me.

He heard some chicks cry out on a limb.

Surviving the wind their chance’s grim.

.

Was the branch to weak, he couldn’t be sure.

But reached for the nest and made it secure.

He was a brave man, doing his best.

But fell to his death saving the nest.

.

The small girl glad to know what was right.

But she’s still very sad at her loss that night.

It wasn’t my fault but I share the blame.

Though sad, she forgave me all the same.

.

While in the forest the rest of that day,

we planned how to keep others away.

I promised to sleep most of the year,

hiding when there are people to scare.

.

The slayer agreed to spare my soul.

Keeping her friendship is my life’s goal.

She would try to visit when she could,

into the darkness of the night wood.

.

I gave her a claw as proof of who won –

that famous dragon slaying mission.

She wore it always and was admired by all”

I said it was now on the museum’s wall.

.

The dragon then shared more of her life,

her times of happiness, times of strife.

There’s never to be any flying at all.

Unless to answer another dragons call.

.

Said she’s free to swim under the ice,

but never when the weather is nice.

And while out for her last swim of the year.

I fell in and she found me there.

.

She brought me back to her cozy den,

where she’d hibernate all over again.

Our chat ended as her eyes turned red,

her tummy stirring, she warmly said.

.

“Please take the tip of the slayers spear,

So you can recall your time spent here.

Think of me fondly now that we’re friends.

And trust that a dragon’s love never ends.”

.

She finally burped, I held my nose,

but that’s how a dragon friendship goes.

Then out the backdoor and into the wood,

I ran as fast as ever I could.

.

Now thinking, of course of mom and dad,

the sooner I’m back the less they’ll be sad.

Then the rangers soon found me safe and sound.

They were all happy I hadn’t drowned.

.

Back at the camp we all hugged and kissed.

I was safe and assured I was missed.

But then all the questions that they had –

Over and over until I got mad!

.

They didn’t believe my dragon tale.

I showed them my proof to no avail.

It was thought that my memories blurred –

by all the stories that I had heard.

.

Tales of dragons and slayers in the night,

all normal causes of a child’s fright.

A doctor checked the bump on my head,

then sent me back home for time in bed.

.

I’m glad for the friendship of a dragon.

But all in all it wasn’t much fun.

I’ve learned new things and a good lesson had.

That a kid all alone is very very bad!

.

And now I’ve shared my legend with you.

Like the slayer’s, it’s mostly all true.

But if you don’t believe I’m sincere –

I’ll show you the tip of that little spear.

.

~:~ the End ~:~

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Morning Triku #153 ~ Solstice Surmises

~*~
Go Time

The longest day’s here.
The sun’s warm and the night short.
Cold hearts have no place.

*

A Bushel of Pecks

Chemistry is the
solution to inertness
and explosiveness.

*

Fanatical & Finesse

Zealotry only
require zealots but not zeal
necessarily.

~*~
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Bells Taking Their Toll

A day without time and no place to be.
I’ll rise with sun and bathe in the sea.
I’ll watch the grass grow and clouds float by.
I’ll live off the land and breathe in the sky.
~
A day without time sounds great to me.
I’ll live out my life being happy and free.
There will be no pain or any reason to cry.
There’s no compilation or a reason to lie.
~
A day without time is a day full of glee.
There are starlit nights and nothing to flee.
A day without time, I’d sure love to try.
But then the alarm that needs my reply.

~*~
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Urban Lumberjack

~

Out sawing logs most proficiently

Till buzzing sounds cut through me

Awakened to a new sunrise

And looming towers in the skies

Guzzled whole bean, huge and black

Sugar stash stole from old knapsack

I grab my Axe then splash my face

Yesterday’s chips bear no trace

Beard’s quaffed perfectly shabby

Pressed flannel plaid looking flabby

Jeans donned with six inch cuff

Pipe’s lit for morning’s puff

In vintage boots scuffed, untied

A new day’s afoot heading outside

A bright spot picked, time to strike

Never as close as I would like

Pickup’s placed alarmed and ready

Loving years rolling steady

Traversing back the jiggles and jogs

Returning home to saw more logs

There distant dogs I hear barking

While alternate side of the street parking

~*~

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Today’s Poem

Today’s poem’s a mixed bag of thought,
overwhelmed with input this poet fraught.
Barraged by beginnings, none’s caught,
words forged honesty’s wrought.

Hours fly, seconds’ drag, a minute sought.
Dreaming recollections, time’s bought.
Feelings unchanged, thinking’s naught.
Patience perseveres, love has taught.

~*~
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Always Never

Never stop growing, learning or asking why.
Leave a long to-do list on the day you die.
Live your life with zeal, never looking back.
Emphasize the positives not what you lack.
~
Always pay your dues, enjoy what you gain.
Be kind to others, never causing pain.
Share a smile daily and get one in return.
Always use your sunscreen, never get a burn.

~*~
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Seems to Need

I need a bigger clock,
my watch seems to lie.
The spaces are too small,
and the hands seem to fly.
~
I need to see where time goes.
I can’t believe it’s me.
I only scroll a little.
And only when time’s free.
~
But that little watch keeps lying.
It tells me hours have flown past.
The stupid phone agrees.
I think the problems vast.
~
It must be a conspiracy,
drawing people to their laps.
Our future’s passing by,
and we’re now hunched like saps.
~
I’m going to go cold turkey.
When I’m done, we’ll share a toast.
But that I’ll start tomorrow.
Today I need to post.

~*~
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All Ends Dwell

I’m sorry I have no poem today.
I’ve actually started two.
But I have no endings.
So I’ve nothing to share with you.
~
Fortunately there are tomorrows.
Perhaps I’ll end them then.
Or maybe this is a metaphor;
for the fickleness of the pen.
~
Many things get started.
Only some will see an end.
But until there’s a conclusion,
a finish, we can pretend.
~
So I’ll pretend my poems are great.
They start off really well.
And I’ll imagine it’s a perfect day.
For the unknown we shouldn’t dwell.

~*~
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Beach Day

SK_BeachDay_4

Tomorrow’s to be the best day.

A day of sunshine, swim and play.

Must get to sleep, morning is near.

We’ll wake early, much to prepare.

*

Eat breakfast, find my pail and rake.

Great big castles of sand we’ll make.

Pack cooler with lunch, bring a hat.

Bags for towels and this and that.

~

Morning has come, wide open eyes.

Hoping for those clear blue skies.

It must be early, sky’s still gray.

Maybe I woke on the wrong day.

*

Waited all winter, now’s in reach,

sunny day of fun at the beach.

Went back to bed, nothing to do.

Closed my eyes then the sun shined through.

~

Jumped out of bed, day’s second chance.

Brush my teeth and put on short pants.

Ran downstairs for breakfast and more,

a surprise friend waits at my door.

*

We all got packed into the car.

Hoping the drive won’t be too far.

Wheels turn, were almost there.

Windows open, I smell the sea air.

~

Pull in the lot, our fun begins.

Unpack the car, pull out the bins.

We carry the bags, two for each.

Umbrellas up, blanket on beach.

*

Cooler wheels stuck in the sand.

Dad asked me to lend him a hand.

We’re all set up, time to explore.

There’s much to do at the seashore.

~

We hurry down to take our dips.

First toes then knees, up to hips.

The water’s cold, we jumped back out.

To thick towels we run and shout.

*

My fingers wrinkle, lips turn blue.

The sunshine’s warming me and you.

Sand’s sticking to my wet swimsuit.

Mom gets lunch; sandwich, drink and fruit.

~

Our feast is done, time to play ball.

Huffing and puffing, shared by all.

We blew it up then threw it high.

Caught by the wind, kept by the sky.

*

Grab our shovels, pile the sand.

Moats and towers, kings of this land.

Then waves came in with a crash.

Hours to build, gone in a splash.

SK_BeachDay_6

Now we’ll find some big new sea shells.

Some are flat some shaped like bells.

Some you hear the sea in your ear.

Some will have things living in there.

~

Sifting for treasure in the sands.

Time slipping through our small wet hands.

We keep the best in a small sack.

To be explored when we get back.

*

Now let’s try the water again.

First you go then I’ll jump right in.

Dive and swim, watch seaweed float by.

Then the sun sank low in the sky.

~

We all go home, skin pink, eyes red.

Take a cool bath then off to bed.

Going to sleep dreaming of more,

a day at the beach is best – I’ m sure!

*

The End

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https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/472691

Charlie’s Treat

Yesterday I won a ride on a Willy ship

Wasn’t long but a sweet little trip

Talked about the sun and jumbo gumdrops

Laughed at the moon and fuzzy lollipops

*

Weightless in a dark chocolate sky

Chasing ants – Oh! How fast they fly

Confections consume, the slim lie waist-ed

The best of the worse I’ve ever tasted

*

Rainbow sprinkles linger, floating past

Though sugar eyes aren’t meant to last

Adventures end on marshmallow bed

Sticky goo all stuck in my head

*

Tummy aches and tired teeth hurt

My cocoa now looks and tastes like dirt

But candy bars will, will never stop me

Needed warmth they’re enjoyed tooth free

*

Sliding down the licorice string

To rest in a basket bunnies bring

Waiting for hands of time to shake no more

Then I’ll re-wrap and go out for s’more

*

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Hannahbelle’s Folly

Welcome back to Hannahbelle’s folly

where dreams broken yet most stayed jolly.

The factory was shut, tourist didn’t stay,

the impatient grew impatient for a better day.

Most old town folk not wanting to go

agreed to a change in the Hannahbelle show.

Their now was the present, past’s time of old,

the gooey center betwixt is this tale told.

It starts with Charlie, who lacked business sense.

All money made was but half his expense.

Having won the factory therefore the town,

he became a fair leader, albeit a clown.

Yet a kinder soul there could never be.

All hungers fed, anytime, always free.

The workers prospered with newfound wealth,

not only from raises but dental and health.

The village glistened, all gloom washed away.

Their Renaissance grew brighter each passing day.

Charlie married soon after, a remarkable bride,

their love for each other they couldn’t hide.

Hannahbelle followed within that same year.

She’s properly pampered and handled with care.

By noble decree the eldest of elders proclaimed;

In honor of Charlie the towns to be renamed.

A contest was held to find the best name.

Most of the entries were all the same.

The town’s new name was Hannahbelleville,

from miles around people came for the thrill.

With towers of brick placed one at a time

all topped with a bell for the hourly chime.

The windows sparkled, doors welcomed all.

Just step right in and we’ll all have a ball.

Neat lines form long to be part of the show.

There are twists and turns wherever you go.

A bib and bags are given free at the door

to save what’s left for when you want more.

Ponchos welcome but most haven’t a care,

sweet diversions are why they’re all here.

Where chocolate waterfalls splash at their base,

what a tasty surprise to the passerby’s face.

There are also cakes, cookies and candies galore.

There’s shirts and hats at the little gift store.

The shelves always stocked, but not for long,

their prices are good so sales are strong.

On paper everything seemed OK.,

until a new town sprouted across the bay.

This new town was grander, factory too.

They stole Charlie’s recipes, yet he hadn’t a clue.

They built a new park with rides big and small.

It’s better than Hannahbelles that had none at all.

The competition soon became bold and brutal.

The rivals charged half for twice the strudel!

Though Charlie’s reluctant to change his way,

he worked all the harder without any pay.

Then Hannahbelle’s tuition became overdue,

not just one term but quite a few.

She’d have to go home without a degree.

The long spring stretched, she worked as three.

Side by side the little family all toiled.

Cooking and cleaning and keeping things oiled.

Summer arrived and thoughts were blooming.

She had to think fast, payday was looming.

Then a plan was hatched to save the day.

She called her classmates to all have a say.

Her idea was shared to change their fates.

The chefs and chemists mixed heated debates.

Mathematicians integrated their permutations.

The statisticians juggled interpolations.

The engineers tinkered to make all precise.

Artist’s flourished to make all look nice.

A manager’s needed to book weekend bands.

Then there’s the overhead and two hired hands.

There are taxes, tariffs and hidden fees.

We’ve a lawyer’s retained to shoot the breeze.

Bankers were safe with their calculations.

The accountants left to balance frustrations.

Our writers wrote slogans, jingles and ads.

Their pieces placed in papers for new I.T. grads.

A final test given for last minute tweaks.

Then code was input by computer geeks.

The output emerged and everyone’s thrilled.

Soon teeth and tummies both less filled.

It’ll be safe to consume whenever you please.

They’ll never melt and cannot freeze.

There’s no a messy wrappers or sticky streets.

When enjoying the new Hannahbelle binary treats.

Though you will need a dongle for a spare port,

to call up our server of cheese mocha torte.

You can try any flavor you think to choose,

try them all, there’s nothing to loose

We’ve green apple slush and warm fuzzy peach.

There’s seven billion in all, that’s one for each.

Just fill in the form and enter your pin.

Sit back, relax and let the digiconfection begin.

Pay what you can, take what you need.

The business is sweet without any greed.

And after all the bills are paid,

what’s left is ours; it’s what we’ve made.

What was made is what we make.

What Hannahbelle makes icing on her cake.

Hannahbelles treats now second to none,

without competition you’ve already won.

And as the creator of all that’s digiconfectionary,

she’s thought now to be a true visionary.

A university was founded, tuition’s free.

Hannahbelle was first to earn a degree.

Soon she was mayor of Hannahbelleville.

She could serve for life and probably will.

The company grew large, built in its niche.

Everyone did well, though no one got rich.

Hannahbelle shares all her profits and good will.

So all ends happily in Hannahbelleville.

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