Nightlife

I woke to a light I hadn’t seen,
in a place I’ve never been.
My head hurt but that’s not all,
who I was I couldn’t recall.
~
I lay in a bed but I don’t know whose.
I wiggled my feet and felt no shoes.
I could hear voices behind the door.
It sounded like two, could’ve been more.
~
A lady came in, she helped me sit up.
She gave me some pills in a little cup.
I’ve now sat alone for months on end.
All I could do was read and pretend.
~
My name’s now Bond, I’ve sailed the sea.
Pirate’s no match for a cowboy like me.
I live in a castle that sits on the moon.
I rocket to work then home before noon.
~
My queen awaits in a crown that glows.
We’ve treasure to share wrapped in ribbon and bows.
The unicorn ran off when gently untied.
A possum was sleeping, we thought they died.
~
The band started playing,
the whole world was swaying.
We dined with guest from all over the map.
And with the stars we all took a nap.
~
I woke to birds singing in trees nearby.
The day’s bright, not a cloud in the sky.
Though things are never as they seem,
I just fell asleep but rose to a dream.

~*~
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Time for Time-Out

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Time for time-out it’ll end soon.

Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.

She’s had it since her wedding day.

Used just for holidays, not play.

*

I said that it was shaped just right,

to dig a trench where armies can fight.

Needs to be deep but not too wide.

Had to dig fast so they can hide.

*

Buried far down just like a tomb.

Guarding treasure found in your room.

Found in a box high on a chest.

It’s the booty pirates like best.

*

I must protect those shiny things:

chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.

Hid them good, remembered the map.

But then forgot after my nap.

*

To help me dig I found a pet.

The best digger there is I’ll bet.

Finished our yard then went next door.

Found nothing, ran off to dig more.

*

Chased our cat high up in the tree.

Grandma called the police for me.

Her nurse had to help make the call.

The police came, that isn’t all.

*

While chasing his dog that I found,

the man fell from holes in the ground.

He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.

I said it was his dog, not me.

*

His face was red, limping away.

But grandma’s heart will be okay.

And I have some more good news.

While digging today, I wore no shoes.

*

They’re nice and clean and tucked away.

I’ll try no pants some other day.

Though mess was made with my bare feet,

I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.

*

Pushed all the water out the door.

Then to your room, I cleaned some more.

Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.

I luckily then found the bleach.

*

You’ll smile when you turn on the light.

I know you like things clean and white,

with spots of color here and there.

You’ll surely hug your little dear.

*

I’m glad you’re home early today.

Don’t believe what the neighbors say.

The rescue came, Dad’s all right.

Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.

*

Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.

I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.

I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.

Fix the chair dad broke with his back.

*

He climbed too high to find his keys,

lost his balance from wobbly knees.

I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.

Then found soldiers under my bed.

*

Recalled the mission to be done.

Ran downstairs to start the fun.

Found no spoons not already bent.

But then found yours and out I went.

*

And that’s where my story began.

Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.

I know that time-outs hurt you too.

But when it’s done I’ll still love you.

*

The End

sck2014

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468259

Morning Triku #175 ~ Second Period

Choose Choice

Life’s multiple choice
Our answers lessen with time
Questions grow harder
~

Schooled

Fears prevail feared
Tomorrow’s today’s earned
All will rise, some learned

~
Chances Are

Life is bad when sad
Or grand when on clouds we stand
And glad for the hand

~*~
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Bird Brains

I woke up early and the sky was gray.
The world’s in turmoil yet I’ve little to say.
But the birds are happy in the mulberry tree.
I can hear them laughing, maybe at me.
~
They see our world from high above,
whether gull, robin or mourning dove.
Their time alive is soaring free,
while looking down on you and me.
~
For if to fly like a bird,
we’d then flock but never herd.
We’d hatch into a nest well made,
free of worry cos no rent’s paid.
~
Just think of the places we could go.
We could fly south before the snow.
We could eat berries, bugs and worms,
pretty much anything that wiggles or squirms.
~
There’d be no alarms or jobs we hate.
We could fly to the stars our very first date.
Then glide back down to a favorite tree.
There we’d rest harmoniously.
~
But we’re not birds and that’s a shame.
Our lives are grounded and mostly tame.
But if to wish on this day that’s gray,
I’d poop on those who stand in the way.
~
So maybe my wish is not about birds.
It’s about people I think are turds,
those who’ve prevented a world of peace,
for you and me and a gaggle of geese.

~*~
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Skipper’s Lane

Around the bend from the church on main,
lies a quaint little street, called Skipper’s Lane.
T’was on this path a young lad dwelled,
before the streets’ name or the lad propelled.
~
The tale goes: At the head of a cove the sandbar’s long.
The water’s choppy and the currents strong.
A young lad fished, he netted all day.
At sunset he rowed to the town up the bay.
~
He traded his catch for supplies and some cash.
He then rowed back home and buried his stash.
Years soon passed and the lad’s now a man.
The time was now to dig up an old can.
~
The cans held his savings, he’s more than a few.
The man, now called Netty, had something to do.
Netty rowed into town, to buy but not sell.
He bought a new boat with a bright shiny bell.
~
He towed the boat home not knowing how to sail.
A year’s practice behind then caught in a gale.
Netty stayed calm, his life, spent afloat.
Home was in sight when he saw a tossed boat.
~
The boat missed the inlet, now blowing out to sea.
Though Netty unsure, he could not leave them be.
Adjusting his sails Netty raced to give aid.
Soaked and battered he would not be afraid.
~
Lost memories filled young Netty’s head.
Recalling the night, he was almost dead.
The sky was black and the water cold.
The ship sat heavy, filled with gold.
~
Remembering screams and cracking wood,
the ship’s bell rang, gone childhood.
The boy hit the water and woke on the shore.
The life he once knew was no more.
~
A crashing wave broke Netty’s trance,
one second more he’d lose his chance.
He leaned on his tiller to bring his boat near.
The boats colliding mustered everyone’s fear.
~
Netty thought quickly and dropped his sheet,
then heaved his net around a cleat.
He pulled and pulled with all his might.
His biggest catch was that stormy night.
~
All returned safely before the sun rose.
Netty now a hero was gifted new clothes.
New friends were made, now one’s Netty’s wife.
Recounting his memories he bought a new life.
~
The gold recovered, Netty bought lots of land.
He built a grand home well away from the sand.
The harbor in view he watches over his fleet.
The town, now prosperous, gave Netty a street.

~*~
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Persistent

In this time of “writer’s block”,
I stare blankly at paper and clock.
With jumbled prose I try to think,
should life be guided by pen and ink?
~
Does a rhyme decide a story’s path?
Can a re-verse save us from the wrath?
The day is young; there are things to do,
but the sky’s gray with a snowy hue.
~
The air is cold, I’ll assume,
my spirit’s locked within a room.
Doors will open if I choose.
When all’s lost there’s none to lose.
~
Persistence colors the choices we make.
Is persistence for persistence sake?
Do we persist simply to win?
If direction’s unclear should we begin?
~
Like life, love, thought and art,
questions unanswered are the start.
Life ticks forward with us or without.
Thoughts will be shared without a doubt.
~
Art will be made with all the thoughts had.
And love makes life happy but also sad.
Dilemma’s obscure visions true.
A vision obscures my dilemma new.
~
I’m seeking an end to what’s now fraught.
The past’s the lesson of what’s been taught.
And like life, love, thought and art,
ends shade poetic an open heart.

~*~
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A Brief History of Dragons

The earth still brewing,
new life was stewing.
Flora askew and fauna still new,
eat or be eaten was all they knew.
~
The ground untested, sulfur’s in the air.
Crazed creatures wandered unaware;
creepy crawly slithery things,
swimmers of seas and fliers with wings.
~
But tucked cozily in palaces of awe,
dragons feasted and pondered what they saw.
Intruders were meals, some thrown back.
And gardening was their tasty snack.
~
Millennia past but for the dragon too soon,
change was afoot with the handy baboon.
Their hordes grew and quickly spread.
The plundering’s swift but never to be fed.
~
The dragon’s numbers always small,
just a few thousand and that is all.
They’re all very patient and very, very smart.
Some of the elders saw this planet’s start.
~
A meeting was had, all without doubt.
The dragons decided to wait this breed out.
They hibernate now till mankind’s last blunder.
When happily woke to darkness and thunder.

~*~
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Back and Forth

The pros and cons of death
are the ins and outs of breath.
The ups and downs of life
are the this and that’s of strife.

Forward or back, taut or slack,
fast or slow it’s the average we know
Top or bottom leaves in between.
Front and back the rest’s unseen.

Heads or tails the inner hides.
No coin has only just two sides.
Life is choices, more than two.
There’s more to it than me and you.

Books may contain all that’s known.
Everything else we’re on our own.
Soft or hard a landing’s assured.
Highs and lows are endured.

While ponderings spiral unabated,
decision’s made as we waited.
Time’s endless, though ours is not.
Hit or miss, it’s worth a shot.

~*~
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Up Down Forward

I received a letter on Tuesday, last week.
The handwriting familiar, deserving of a peek,
it was written by me when I am much older.
The language’s strong, I’m certainly much bolder.
~
Curiosity peaked and horror’s at bay.
I couldn’t believe what I had to say.
Mistakes I’ll be making are such a huge sum.
The time I’ll be wasting makes my brain numb.
~
A warning I thought but that didn’t compute.
If anything changed my letter is moot.
It got me so worried I lay awake all night.
Realizing later I did enough things right.

~*~
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Maybe a Sonnet

 I have a theory; it’s my “Maybe” theory

There are no formulas for anyone to see

Maybe it’s right or maybe it’s wrong

I don’t really mind, didn’t ponder it long

 ~

This theory may work for any occasion

Maybe I’ll theorize the mass of the sun

Maybe I’ll write the world’s longest poem

Or maybe I’ll roam the old streets of Rome

~

Maybe this cloudy day ends in a starry night

Maybe there’s peace and no one to fight

Maybe the sun will rise, maybe it won’t

Though we’ll never know it if it don’t

 ~

Maybe maybe may be enough

Maybe not if you want more stuff

Maybe can be a word you don’t want to hear

As in “Maybe I love you, my darling dear”

 ~

Maybe my theory’s not such a great call

Maybe maybe’s just maybe after all

 ~

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Special Days

When time and luck do collide,
our good fortunes cannot hide.
Eyes will open for a special day.
Doors will open and we’re on our way
~
We never know what lies ahead,
footsteps lead to where we’re led.
Eyes will open to a special sense.
The past is now our best defense.
~
Prepared are we to stand alone,
arms outreached, our distance flown.
Eyes open for a special one.
Hearts open and the future begun.
~
Bound as one we’ll double our best,
joy and bliss will know no rest.
Eyes will open to our special place.
Wound are we with a special face.
~
Hands of time will gently sweep.
Ups and downs we’ll deftly leap.
Eyes open for another special day.
Doors locked and in love we’ll stay.

~*~
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Celestial Time

Embers fade, waning moon

Sounds of day coming soon

Nights of bliss with our love

Counting stars that dance above

*

Sharing secrets from the past

Recalling joy that didn’t last

Time’s treasured in the dark

Horizons clear with the rising arc

*

By day we grow, eves recede

Priorities given to what we need

Quills in hand, arm in arm we’ll fly

Soaring and diving in the endless sky

*

In search of a hilltop on which to lie

It is here I’d wish to die

To rest and ponder life’s miracle

Where the arc becomes full circle

~*~

Sck061715