humor

Morning Triku #70 – Abstaction

Has a Ball

.

What surrounds us all;

Warms, chills, cries – never dies?

Ever changing skies

 

 ~

Fusion

 .

Old flames reunite

Fueled and mingling freely

When all becomes ash

~

Merry-Go-Round

.

Around and around

We all go, around what is

What I’d like to know

~*~

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Strolling

Adventures begin

When four wheels spin

On shady paths and city streets

In knitted booties or tiny bare feets

 ~

Our big happy faces loudly giggle

My little pink piggy’s squiggle and wiggle

When breezes tickle in warming sun

Our shiny four wheels are always fun

 ~

We go fast and slow, up and down

Sometimes mom calls dad a clown

Birds and dogs, signs and sound

There are moving pictures all around

~

With me always on journey’s far

Folds up neat to fit in the car

Adventure time’s what I like best

But sometime strollers need a rest

 *

The End

 .

Sck103114

Hopeful Beginnings

The first day of life starts today.
If there’s a second I can’t say.
So today I’m gonna do my best,
I’ll eat some veggies and get my rest.
~
I’ll smile at every passerby.
I’ll say hello and wave goodbye.
I’ll give my love some extra kisses.
I’ll try my hardest to fulfill her wishes.
~
I’ll write a poem that brings folk’s joy.
I’ll use all the tricks magicians employ.
I’ll write something funny and something sweet.
I’ll go upstairs soon and tickle some feet.
~
I’ll nibble some toes and lick some knees.
I’ll massage some thighs if I please.
I’ll whisper “I love you” in waiting ears.
And hope this first day lasts for years.

~*~
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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

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

Trying

The harder I try, the harder it seems,

I’ve wasted much, reams and reams.

I’ve tried writing of infinity but couldn’t find an end.

Tried to write of society though I couldn’t offend.

~

I tried to write of death, can’t write in the dark.

Tried writing of youth but lost the spark.

Scribbled of sorrow, tears cleansed the sheets.

Dribbled of conquest but I had no feats.

~

I tried to write of time, that didn’t last.

Wrote of the future, thought of the past.

I’ve written coldly until my lips turned blue.

So I wrote of warmth and penned volumes for you.

~

My heart’s now thawed, boiling blood rises to brain.

Bleeding emotion doesn’t have to cause pain.

A trying life’s journey is what’s inked of late.

Perhaps it is now I’m writing of fate.

 

*

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Physcophysical Physics

eyes1

Time’s the space between events.
Events made from cause and effect.
Effects felt when closing space,
causing events to speed up the space.
.
Much like life, love and lust,
the time comes and in we’re thrust.
The future is and the past was,
effecting all, just because.

~*~
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Goldies Luck

~

There once were three bears living in the wood.

A small happy family, their life was good.

While out one day picking berries to munch,

a boy chanced by their cabin smelling of lunch.

.

He knocked on the door but no answer returned.

So he walked right in for the meal he yearned.

First he saw a fish stew with fins and a tail,

till luckily finding jellies and honey in a pail.

.

A feast this sweet thought he cannot be ignored,

so he nibbled, dribbled, slurped and then snored.

He woke sometime later with his teddy close by.

He thought it a dream till Teddy said “Hi”

.

The boy tried getting up to run for the door

But sleeping in honey made him stick to the floor

The little bear giggled and papa was mad.

Mama bear unstuck him and the little boy’s glad.

.

Then he’s off to the tub to scrub off the goo.

His lips staying stained a bright jelly blue.

He then cuddled by a fire feeling warm and dry.

While mama finds a recipe for a golden top pie.

.

After their lunch the bunch are full once more.

The little ones dashed to the forest to explore.

The boy returned stung by bees, wasps and fleas,

with scrapes and bruises on his hands and knees.

.

There’s dirt and rashes covering the rest,

that poor little boy was quite a mess.

He then nursed with care by the big mama bear,

while papa bear dozes in his huge favorite chair.

.

The little cub sent to finds some PJ’s to wear.

Then it’s time to sleep in a bed they all share.

After weeks of bear life the food made him ill.

Yet bears have no doctors or get well pill.

.

Papa bear knew what had to be done.

So to town he ventured with the rising sun.

The boy held secure, they arrived near noon.

Police with guns surrounded them soon.

.

The bear roared “Don’t shoot, I mean no harm.”

The little boy wiggled his weak little arm.

The shooters stood down till help arrived.

Watchful eyes waited for the boy to be revived.

.

Papa soon freed, went home and lived well.

The boy recovered then surely caught hell.

All knew the boy lucky surviving this time,

though chances golden when writing the rhyme.

.

And as with all tales there’s a lesson taught,

That running away won’t find what’s sought.

And if you chance a bear on some future journey,

good luck to you and say hello for me.

~*~

 sck013116 

Jingle Writer

I want to be a jingle writer, write jingles every day.

I want to be a jingle writer, jingles all the way.

I want to be a jingle writer ‘cos there’s bills to pay.

I want to be a jingle writer, not much more too say.

*

I want to be a jingle writer and work from my backyard.

I want to be a jingle writer, poets work too hard.

I want to be a jingle writer, don’t understand avant-garde.

I want to be a jingle writer, no need to be a bard.

*

I want to be a jingle writer and put my tools to use.

I want to be a jingle writer, write short and loose.

I want to be a jingle writer; I’ll be no Dr. Seuss.

I want to be a jingle writer until I’m cut from the noose.

*

The End

Lazy Man

When Steve was but a small boy the signs were becoming clear.
Movement was not forthcoming from that precious little dear.
He stayed there in his tiny crib until he grew too tall.
He laid there day and night just staring at the wall.
~
His parents were much concerned as the young boy slowly grew.
The only activity he seemed to like was when he had to chew.
His cousins would come to visit and they all went out to play.
But not little Stevie, in his bed he chose to stay.
~
Eventually the school days came and Steve was dragged to class.
Fortunately his memory was good and easily he did pass.
The next twelve years were much the same, for him fair’s good enough.
His parents wished him college bound, but Steve didn’t like that sort of stuff.
~
A few more years Steve stayed at home, until he got kicked out.
Poor Steve was confused and hurt his future so much in doubt.
While shuffling slowly to his grandma’s house he saw a big lit-up sign.
Steve read it very carefully and then he felt just fine.
~
Waiters wanted is what it said so Steve sauntered in to see what’s what.
It wasn’t what he was thinking though and got kicked out on his butt.
Steve was deflated as he felt his world come crashing down.
Sitting alone on a park bench he watched darkness fill his town.
~
The sun then newly risen, Steve slumbered peacefully.
Until poked by a cop named Phil, who wouldn’t let Steve be.
Steve then told Phil of his plight and how his life’s a mess.
Phil flung Steve in the backseat as he could care no less.
~
A furious Phil then told Steve he was just a lazy man.
And that he wouldn’t do anything if someone else can.
Arriving at the station Steve was ordered to quietly sit.
Phil came back the next day and said “I found a place you’ll fit.
~
Steve was brought to a room where screens filled every wall.
Phil told Steve what to look for and when to make the call.
Steve loved his new position, his super power he had found.
Soon a suspect spotted and promptly tackled to the ground.
~
If you’re looking for a moral, a lazy story you shouldn’t seek.
Perhaps the lesson’s there so I’m glad you took a peek.
Though the story may be fiction the condition does often show.
And when a cure for lazy is found I’ll be sure to let you know.

~*~
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Snakes in the Grass

black and red snake on green grass

My story began on the fifth of May.
The day was chilly with a sky of gray.
In my tent, cozy, I woke to a scream.
Was it a person or was it a dream?
~
Morning dew thick, I stood there alone.
The sun newly risen, I reached for my phone.
No urgent messages or a soul in sight.
No reason at all to cause such a fright.
~
The bikes were still leaning on a nearby tree.
They’re the only way home for my pal and me.
I then ran to the tent of my snoring friend,
who’s along for the ride this spring weekend.
~
But the roar from within made it quite clear,
my old friend’s just fine, no need to fear.
I then glanced down the path to a campsite nearby.
Something felt wrong but I didn’t know why.
~
I tiptoed closer when another scream was heard.
It was the voice of a child, but that seemed absurd.
I then ran to the shrieking and what did I find?
Kids with a snake and they weren’t being kind.
~
I said hey kids “what’s with the noise?
And why do you think that snakes are toys?”
One little girl about seven or eight,
said she wanted a pet and snakes are great.
~
Her brother the screamer cried at the thought.
He’s afraid of snakes or anything caught.
The other two children stood quiet and surprised,
their naughty ways they now realized.
~
I said all life should be treated as if it’s your own.
A lesson you should have already known.
Soon the kid’s parents arrived on the scene.
Their mother was angry, their father, big and mean.
~
He yelled loudly at his children and then at me.
Saying stay away from my kids or trouble you’ll see.
I knew not to argue or make a big fuss.
But there was something I hoped to discuss.
~
I said “no problem, it’s not what it seems.”
I then told them my story of snakes and screams.
Their mom, disgusted, took the kids back to camp.
The dad growled asking “do you think I’m damp?”
~
Puzzled, I asked “what do you mean,
I’ve only told you what I’ve seen.”
“I saw no snake, just my kids and you.”
The dad replied, “What would you do?”
~
I know what I thought, but I couldn’t say.
I felt it best to live through the day.
I could’ve run, but to where?
I could’ve fought him, but I didn’t dare.
~
He then picked up a very big stick.
Then he charged at me like a lunatic.
I stood frozen awaiting my demise,
when the little snake caught the big man’s eyes.
~
He stopped on a dime and screamed in fear.
His reptilian angst now was clear.
So I slowly bent over and picked up the snake.
The big man then started to tremble and shake.
~
“This is the culprit,” I loudly said.
As I waved it gently near his clammy head.
Sobbing, he begged, “Please take it away.
I now believe everything you say.”
~
I took a step back, surprised and relieved.
The turn of events was hardly believed.
I thanked that snake and said goodbye to the dad.
He just waved, whimpering and sad.
~
I then put the snake down and walked quietly away.
I was relieved we survived this fine spring day.
I went back to my tent then fell back to sleep,
never to tell who a snake made weep.


~*~
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Acme

Acme is the place we all want to be.
It’s the pinnacle and the entire world’s to see.
It’s where our flights of fancy are flying free,
anvils no problem with the power of we.
~
A peek at our peak we imagine and seek.
Up and down in waves we speak.
Whether yacht or dingy, they all will leak.
And my day’s high point is to kiss your cheek.
~
Now back to acme before I wander too far.
It’s the place that sets the bar.
Most won’t get there with just a car.
But our match is won, no need to spar.
~
Optimally positioned to spend time with you,
our love’s a summit seen by a few.
And with you I’m at my apogee,
that’s why you’re the acme for me.

~*~
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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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Wish No Squish

Another year’s gone by too fast.
But the birthday stress now has past.
I had too much cake and coffee too,
had a party and stepped in poo.
~
Perhaps an omen or maybe not,
or a reminder of things forgot.
Crappy stuff happens every day.
And we often slip along the way.
~
Yesterday being our only prep,
surprises await with every step.
Life can stink as we all know,
but sometime wrapped with a bow.
~
My shoes now scraped, no damage done.
My time ahead I’ll wish for fun.
I won’t let aging make me sad,
the alternative being really bad.

~*~
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Between a Rock and a Soft Place

If you’re having manopause a guynecoligyst you must see.
They’ll gently cup your stuff and ask you how you pee.
It should come as no surprise, it happens when we age.
There’s little cause for worry and no need for any rage.
~
As we all grow older things will begin to move.
Sometimes things won’t work even when we’re in the groove.
The pain at times can rightly get us scared.
But if the boys were gone you know you’d feel weird.
~
If you just felt a twinge your time is soon to come.
But if you feel anything it’s better than being numb.
I know I’m not a doctor, but I know one thing for sure.
To keep the golden nuggets, wishing is not a cure.

~*~
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A Click Away

The poet’s journal’s an open book,
so come on in and take a look.
There are all the emotions to be found,
there’s also thoughts on sight, smell and sound.
~
Pages are filled with love and heartbreak,
with lots more between for give and take.
There’s sunsets galore and sunrises more,
starlit nights and seasons for sure.
~
Sometimes funny, most times not,
it might not be good but there’s a lot.
Bring your glasses and forget the phone,
with a poet to listen you’re never alone.
~
You might be a muse or giver of clues,
I may write a poem about your new shoes.
We’ll sip some coffee in the shade,
the day will end but a friendship made.
~
Our time will be logged with notes on the side,
with a flourish embellished or at least tried.
But if you can’t make it that’s OK too,
it’s all online to be shared with you.

~*~
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