Leftie Tighty Righty Loosey

Are you the me that I can’t see?
Or I you, one half of two?
If but one, who then are you?
If you’re the one, what’s to do?
~
I’m confused, both conned and fused.
We share a body, everything’s used.
We’ve got hands and feet, both left and right.
We have two eyes that see the same light.
~
But our sides divided, never to agree.
Perhaps a split, each then free.
I think you should go and create a new life.
I feel it best you leave, be done with this strife.
~
The battle goes on, both being stuck.
Each barely manages without some luck.
I did have an end to make all laugh and shout.
But then the editor took the good stuff out.
~
The Middle

~*~
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Gurmumble

His name was Gurmumble,
or so it was said.
Gurmumble’s the sound,
comes out of his head.
~
Ask him a question,
anything you choose.
Gurmumble, he’d answer,
looking down at his shoes.
~
Gurmumble was teased,
folks called him a freak.
But he’s actually, quite normal,
he just couldn’t speak.
~
High School was soon starting,
Gurmumble was rightly scared.
The building was enormous,
much bigger than he feared.
~
His first week was horrible,
he’s a target to be teased.
Gurmumble was unfazed,
the bullies left displeased.
~
Come fall his novelty waned,
Gurmumble was now free.
Excelling at his studies,
he had a learning spree.
~
By Spring Gurmumble’s smitten,
but he couldn’t say a word.
So, he wrote his crush a poem,
the prettiest she’d ever heard.
~
He wrote her a poem each day,
awaiting her response.
And when she finally smiled,
it was Gurmumble’s Renaissance.
~
All the girls were swooning;
the boys were just confused.
Gurmumble’s now a star,
no longer feeling abused.
~
His poems now sung as songs,
Gurmumble plays guitar.
His loving girlfriend sings,
I’m sure they’re going far.

~*~
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Morning Triku #179 ~ AM

Treble

With the dawn comes light.
We revolve to kiss our star.
With dusk we devolve.
~

Bass

On a blue planet,
everybody gets sad.
When left in the dark.
~

Volume

From the earth all’s born.
Toil and frolic to survive.
As the earth we rest.

~*~
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My Little Tea Set

On my fourth birthday my grandma gave to me,
a precious little tea set that traveled the sea.
Painted with flowers in a land faraway.
It’s made of porcelain and not yet for play.
~
My initials are there, in gold on the side,
I’ll use it when older, but never outside.
They’re tucked away safe in the dining hutch.
With mom’s good dishes she doesn’t use much.
~
On my fifth birthday my mom said to me,
your doll looks thirsty and ready for tea.
We ran to the hutch to get my tea set,
then a party with mom I’ll never forget
~
My dolly was there, and teddy was too.
We had goodies to share, but always too few.
We finished our snacks and washed my tea set.
Then put it away, it was our best party yet.
~*~
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Anatomicalatomicgalactica

Electrons float in endless flight.
Space’s gray, no day or night.
Infinity lurks out of sight.
.
Elements blend or violently clash.
Random moment’s atoms smash.
Fusion bonds fission’s ash.
.
Core pulls, heat spurred.
Nucleus form, orbits dared.
Love holds a time shared.

~*~
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Foresee What May Be

I started the day the usual way.
My feet hit the floor then out the door.
The sun’s yet high in the new sky.
But on the street I feel the heat.
The sweat begins to drip.
~
I get to work and feel like a jerk.
I forgot to do my do.
So I combed my hair in despair.
Then I booted up and spilled my cup.
The coffee made a big mess.
~
My notes now are gone and I left forlorn.
My haste has caused this waste.
I must slow down or I will drown.
This fast lane is causing me pain.
The phone then starts to ring.
~
It’s another complainer for I the explainer.
I was chilled to the bone by their ruthless tone.
I slammed down the phone but wasn’t alone.
The boss could hear standing so near.
This job, for me, was now done.
~
Hurt was I, I wanted to cry.
I went home to bed and wished I were dead.
I started to dream then woke to a scream.
A poke from my wife saved my life.
My eyes open to start again.
~
A nightmare was had, one very bad.
Its cause being stress is my best guess.
A lesson thought comes before taught.
My sweetie made tea for her and me.
A new dream’s begun and I called out sick.

~*~
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Checks and Balances Mate

Dew glistens in the crisp of dawn,
peering out on an endless lawn.
Fresh air and sunshine I am drawn.
Soon I’ll be mowing for I am a pawn.
~
The king lives atop a manicured hill,
now slumbering peacefully while all is still.
Soon he’ll rise and our time he’ll kill.
His whims fulfilled against our will.
~
The queen too is soon to awake,
maids will arrive with orders to take.
Breakfast then served with chefs to make.
A picnic will follow down by the lake.
~
Their castle has towers like rooks on a board.
Treasures are many, much like a hoard.
Guards abound with shield and sword.
Musicians are hired to strike every chord.
~
Knights roam freely down endless halls.
They await more battles but more likely balls.
Their horses pampered in big, tidy stalls,
their messes cleaned by old women in shawls.
~
The bishops’ eschewed anymore plans for fun.
Soon it may be their rein is done,
king’s out-numbered at least eight to one.
Tables will turn then a new game’s begun.

~*~
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It’s All Pluckin’ Good

Hello friend, can you please spare a buck?
Sorry for asking but I’m down on my luck.
The wife kicked me out and kept my old truck.
She smashed my guitar, now I’ve nothin’ to pluck.
~
She said I’m lazy and got no ambition.
I said her happiness is my only mission.
I do what I can, but ain’t no magician.
Tell ya the truth I’d rather be fishin’.
~
But she kept my rods too, locked in the shed.
And she found all the money hid under the bed.
She threw the good pan right at my head.
She mighta been pretty but she ain’t well bred.
~
She’s as strong as an ox, same size too.
She wears a men’s size twelve shoe.
And when she smiles my brain turns to goo.
But she’s gone now, I’ll have to make do.
~
Just a buck, friend, that’s all I need.
I’d ask for more but that be greed.
I don’t need much, I’m easy to feed.
I can’t be a beggar, but I will plead.
~
Thank you, friend, for sparing that buck.
I’m thinkin’ this is a change in my luck.
I can walk, damn it, I don’t need no truck.
Thank you, friend, for returning my pluck.

~*~
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Greener Bytes

Pontifications’ the place to be.
Grand thinkin’s the life for me.
Imagination’s so far and wide.
Keep AI and just let me decide.
~
Old tech is where I’d rather stay.
I get allergies blindly trusting all day.
I just adore my dual screen view.
PC’s I love you but keep that dark avenue.

~*~
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Well, Almost

We live on a sphere, well almost,
surrounded by air, they the host.
Warmed by a star, pulled by a moon.
We’ve day and night, both come too soon.
~
We’ve loads of life but most unseen,
covered in rock, water and green.
There’s lots of smells, feelings and sounds.
We’ve love and laughter, yet danger surrounds.
~
Failures abound, they’re always free.
We’re fully exposed to freely see.
We can be tasteful, and risk being eaten.
We can be colorful but risk a bad beaten.
~
Lie, cheat and steal and then freely boast.
We’ve the freedom to choose, well almost.
We’ve still time to finish what we start.
Well, almost there; war or art?
~*~
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A Village Uncommon

~*~

Birds are first to welcome the day.
Second’s the stable boy, warm in his hay,
next the rooster with a cockle-doodle–do.
The sun then knows it’s time to shine through.

The day’s now begun on this little village farm,
sounds are awakened, no need for alarm.
Chores are done first before breakfast’s had.
The boy gets scraps for which he’s glad.

He then fetches water to fill troughs high,
looking down he reflects on the sky.
The birds passing by all wave hello.
The boy too would like somewhere to go.

His only companions where pigs in the barn,
a colt in the stall and a blanket of yarn.
The pigs are noisy but warm at night.
The colt’s always worried something’s not right.

The boy and the colt are both small for their age.
The colt’s awkward stance was more prone for a stage.
The boy’s body covered in hair but none on his head.
His face more pale than a ghost long dead.

He was missing teeth, what’s left are brown.
When out to run errands he’d limp back from town.
He was bullied by piers, pitied by the rest,
that’s why the barn is where he liked best.

The barn’s on a farm the boy’s aunt owned.
The pigs are theirs but the rest boarded or loaned.
The crops all prospered by the boy’s hard work,
though all profits were spent on his cousin the jerk.

The jerk had a sister the boy thought faire,
as did all the mirrors where she did stare.
The boy’s aunt was mean and her husband’s a brute.
They all wore frowns but the dog was cute.

On the boy’s return to the barn for the night,
he was much surprised by a most curious sight.
Pigs were in a circle the colt standing tall.
The hens in the middle said nothing at all.

The lonely stable boy was their only concern.
So a plan was hatched for the love he earned.
The colt too had thoughts in his growing mind.
There’s something, somewhere he needs to find.

Then suddenly a change right before their eyes.
Within the hour the colt doubled in size.
The bumps on his shoulders grew larger too
As did his hooves, now too big for their shoe.

The discussion’s now over and all agreed.
The boy and the colt should both be freed.
Some details whispered and the time was set,
for a barnyard adventure to never forget.

The boy donned his blanket like superman’s cape,
then mounted the colt for their great escape.
First are hugs all around before they depart.
Then the barn doors cracked for the plan to start.

The hens muffled the rooster so time was bought.
The sheep flocked to the door as they were taught.
The ducks then quacked to cause a commotion.
And the brute awakened without a clue or a notion.

Pigs started oinking and the cows crashed the gate.
The little dog barked but it was too late.
The boy and colt ran fast past the posts,
waving goodbye to their ungracious hosts.

A tear was shed for the friends left behind.
But his blanket’s aroma would always remind.
The pair dashed down the lane by the hedge-row.
Then flew over the hills where the uncommon go.

In search of a world thought fantasy.
A place imagined by you and me.
A place where all’s different and the same,
where none is wrong or to blame.

This place called fantasy’s not make-believe.
It’s a place that’s real we feel and perceive.
As the pair now see how much they’ve grown.
They come into view of a sight unknown.

Not commonly known this uncommon sight,
there welcomed warmly in the setting sunlight.
The Uncommons filled their common and a party had.
There all are different and all are glad.

A one-legged sprinter hopped by to say hi,
as did the unicorn and an eagle with one eye.
A lady strolled over who walked on her hands.
Her arms so long they dragged in the sands.

Her daughter followed and sparks then flew.
The boy didn’t know that there could be two.
His Pegasus introduced with shakes all around.
Their hands all touching made a warm clapping sound.

Hugs soon followed and a tasty dinner had.
The boy almost forgot he was ever sad.
He cuddled a tiny kitten that roars really loud.
And played with two-legged puppies that only bowed.

There are two-headed snakes and a toothless beaver,
also the tail-less mouse from his aunt’s cleaver.
Here everyone’s loved and their love they share,
who wouldn’t love a giant dancing bear.

These commons are full of Uncommons galore.
Though anyone’s welcome, there’s room for more.
The boy’s party ran late and he rose with the sun.
Then all’s back to normal in a village uncommon.

~*~

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Let’s All Build Forts

As a tot I built forts up on my bed

Then Bedtime took them away

as a kid built castles in the sand

Tides washed those away

*

As a teen built hideouts in snow

The sun melted all away

As a young man built other‘s dreams

While mine were slipping away

*

Now I build wordtopias that I call my own

A place where imagination’s never outgrown

In these stories are steps with no ends

There’s a place big enough for all my friends

*

With paper tents and pencil posts

we’ll grab some time and share a toast

so if you’re ever passing by this way

Come enjoy a fort that’s building a sunny day

*

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Kitty Cat Chat

My little kitty talks to me.
She changes the channel on my TV.
And shows me things I don’t see.
But I never argue, I just agree.
~
Her day begins before sunrise.
I see her starring in my eyes.
Her only word is no surprise.
Up! Up! Up! She loudly cries.
~
To the kitchen we’ll both head.
She’s always happiest when she’s fed.
I’ll fill her bowl then back to bed.
Her heartfelt “Thanks” is always said.
~
My alarm goes off at seven or eight.
My kitty tells me if I’m early or late.
Either way we’re feeling great.
High-fives and head bumps we celebrate.
~
Then off to school but she’s alone.
She says goodbye with a sad little moan.
Someday she’ll learn to use a phone.
But for now that skill’s unknown.
~
I’m welcomed home, I see she’s played.
I clean up all the mess she’s made.
She’s fed again and smiles we trade.
We’ll say goodnight then off we fade.

~*~
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Gigawhat

It might be age, I really don’t know,
but I liked it better when things were slow.
Cars are too fast and so is the news.
Just to keep up we wear running shoes.
~
Everybody’s rushing but never in time,
pushing and shoving, no reason or rhyme.
We hustle and bustle to make others rich.
Then we get a slogan: “Ain’t life a bitch”.
~
The economy’s crazy and DC’s a joke.
The great halls filled with mirrors and smoke.
Yet time’s the same as it always was,
long before smartphones and the digital buzz.
~
Peaks are reached, valleys to follow,
real intelligence needed surviving tomorrow.
As the pendulum swings to and fro;
balls get slammed, this I know.

~*~
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Quietly Dreaming

A story’s brewing; it’s felt in my heart.
Yet I’ve to find the end, middle or start.
I think it’s close but it could be far.
The damage done and left a scar.
~
The image is blurry and makes no sense.
I’m hangin’ out with a guy named Pence.
We’re trapped in a cell with fancy drapes.
There are no cigarettes but everyone vapes.
~
Our lofty guard is seven feet tall.
He brings us bread and that is all.
P’s is white and mine is wheat.
But we don’t mind, it’s something to eat.
~
P tells stories of his glorious time.
I write fast and make it all rhyme.
He worked for a king, second in charge.
His duties were light but his paycheck large.
~
The lights go out at ten o’clock.
The guards go home and we all rock.
Music starts jammin’ in a cell nearby.
The place gets smoky and we all get high.
~
Our eyes grow heavy then we all dream.
We awake at sunrise to coffee with cream.
The king too presides in a cell downstairs.
It’s dark and damp but no one cares.
~
The king has a wife he no longer sees.
She crawled off to Russia on her hands and knees.
Though his kids live here, their just down the hall.
They all got snatched while attending a ball.
~
Now tuxedo’s in tatters and gown’s a mess,
the truth was clear, no need to confess.
So maybe this story’s no story at all.
It may be a nightmare, I can’t recall.
~
Though being in jail I wasn’t keen.
But comfort is felt when the future’s seen.
I did get released, no word of the rest.
And all ends well, their silence being best.
~
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Heartache, Headache, Backache and Optimism

I need to write something to cheer me up,
maybe a fairy tale, a trip or new pup.
But no love stories, not any more.
I failed at that before.
~
Now something brighter, no emotion at all.
I won’t have to see it if I write really small.
Perhaps of worlds unknown, can’t be wrong,
something airy and mellow maybe a song.
~
I’ll write of the stars and space beyond,
or of rippled reflections of ducks on a pond.
Or I won’t write at all, I’ll learn the fiddle!
Nah, I’m just kidding and cheered up a little.

~*~
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