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Narrative Funny Poems | Narrative Poems About Funny

These Narrative Funny poems are examples of Narrative poems about Funny. These are the best examples of Narrative Funny poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Adults Only A Sexy Write Just To Make Jan Laugh

I am dating a young woman and we are deeply in love. However, no matter what I do sexually, she never achieves orgasm so we decided to ask a sex therapist for advice. The therapist listened to our story and suggested the following; 

"Hire a strapping young man and while the two of you are making love have the young man wave a towel over you, as though he is fanning you both. Make sure he is totally naked and she can see his manhood as he fans you both with the towel. That will help your wife fantasize, and should bring on a full-blown orgasm." 

We went home and followed the therapist's advice. We hired a handsome young man and he stripped off and enthusiastically waved a towel over us both as we made love. But it didn't help and still my lover was unsatisfied and frustrated. 

Perplexed, we went back to the therapist "Okay" he says, "let's try it reversed. Have the young man make love to your wife and you wave the towel over them." 

Once again, we followed the advice. The young man got into bed with my lover and I waved the towel. The young man really worked with great enthusiasm and my lover soon had an enormous, room-shaking, screaming, orgasm. 

Smiling, I dropped the towel, tapped the young man on the shoulder and said to him triumphantly...."NOW THAT'S how you wave a towel, son!!"

03~12~2014 dadickerector

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Granny Panty Annie, the Tranny

Lemme tell ya' about a
*ding-bat skit-zo 
bee-hotch* tranny
named Annie...

I met her one night 
under disco lights 
up at Candies

She was 
starin' at me
grittin' her teeth
aimin' ta' see 
if I wanted a piece
of he 
of she 
by way of flashin' granny panties

She was
shootin' pool
actin' a fool
so I 
took a shot
and one tiny glance 
but got caught

So I
lit up a smoke
and tried to play it off cool
but it was too late
she had pulled up a stool

She slurred,
"Hey young felluh, where ya' been all my life!"

I replied, 
"Sorry to burst yir' bubble, but I got a wife!"

"That don't matter kid, what she don't know won't hurt the girl" 
as she fisted my collar and yelled, "I'LL ROCK YIR' WORLD! Annie the Tranny is what they call me. Bet you been wanted ta' bone me since you first saw me!"

Fear and frustration danced on my face
I begged the bouncer to 
"Get this he/she outta the place!"

My pleas were to no avail, 
and that sea donkey lurked hot on my trail
flailin' it's arms and grindin' bar stools with it's tail

Speakin' of tails...
a shiny blue wale tail crept up her back
Her jeans were mean, but couldn't hold her underwear's elastic slack
but at least it beat feastin' eyes upon her crack
then she... 
wrapped her grimy hands around my neck and asked, 
"You n' me, boy, what the heck!?!"

I screamed,
"Look here lady, you seem real nice for a tranny;
ya' see...
ya' need 
to hit the bricks,
and yir' Granny Panties!"

At that point the joint started to really heat up
people were glarin' like they really wanted me beat up
I can't recall how the hell I got out of there 
alive and free
it was like a big manly freight train
headin' dead at me

I'm pretty sure I owe the good Lord a big favor
that beast was the devil
and Jesus was my Savior!

It's a night I thought would never end... 
the night at Candies Bar n' Grill
Granny Panty Annie got a thrill 
tryin' to make me her sexy friend!!!

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Emma and the Pies

Emma was a pretty girl, 
And was pretty wild.
She never minded what people said, 
Nor did she mind her mother.
Mornings when she left for school
She also left her books, 
Everyone would look at her, 
And also gave her looks.

She loved to comb through magazines,
Yet never combed her hair,
Her dad thought she should step it up,
So she’d step in puddles.
Now Emma wasn’t really bad
She just had had bad habits,
Deciding to turn her life around,
She turned right on the street.

Now as the child was trucking on home,
She saw a truck come at her,
The driver was screaming “Are you mad?”
It seemed he was mad at her.
She stood and watched the truck tip
Heard a tip, get out of the way.
The driver jumped out and flew in a rage,
While thousands of pies flew through the air.

As the pies began to land
On people and on land,
They all turned red, orange and blue
Emma almost felt blue too.
Now as she stood there looking sweet
Tasting the sweet from her dress,
Absolute anarchy went down
As people bent down to delight in a good old fashion pie fight.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
Plenitude of Pies Contest 

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And The Road Begins?

Mornings are dreadful time in life unless waking beside gorgeous woman hopefully 
a not married one  husbans can be such a downer.
And when ya wake to a warm beautiful creature by your side.
And the first thought that comes to your mind is i wonder whats for breakfest.

Then ya probaly cant read the menu to start with and desserve 
to have a oversized weight lifter re arrange your ribs.

Im a southern man once means several things  non of which means im normal.
And this morning finds my yerning for a trip and widespread  mischief.
My amigo had vanished after are trip south of the boarder I remember saying 
to myself as i watched him  running naked across the dessert  being chased 
by the flying monkeys  he was surley seeing after his consumption of a foreign substance 

There goes a fine american.

I would have ran after him  but  but i didnt want thoose things to turn there attention to me 
I herd they had a thing for southern  actscents.
And theres nothing  worse than a bunch of horney flying monkeys trust me 
Ive delt with this problem  befor.

and being it was happy hour i knew my slightly insane amigo would understand 
in all his naked glory.
Besides  I left him some sneakers  and a sixpack.
And kept his credit card for safe keeping.

Naked men have no place to keep credit cards and I figured he was in no state to handle 

So as i sit  behind  the wheel  ready to to get lost in the madness of fast food and
  the ant hill of insanity that is wall mart i turn my thoughts to vegas.
For where would a lost nude slightly insane person  run to and feel at home.

I had turn the music up to drown out the sound of whoever was in the trunk.
I figured if i had put sombody in there  in a drunken moment.
It had to be for a good reason.

And so with slightly hungover mindset are road begins.
and so with that do the games also.
And i figured hanging around with a cops wife wasnt the smartest idea.
That and im allergic to bullets.

My muse and 16 year old spirtiual advisor had phoned me to say that.
I probaly needed to Invest in the spirt of Jack Daniels  today.
And hey she had went to church more than once  so who was I to argue.

With a five five spitfire by the name of tinker.
so with A unknown companion in the trunk not helping my hangover i was off
to the races  Untill next time kiddies. 
Adios and im off to find my amigo.

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EVE will remain with ADAM -Chris D A


My husband Chris Adams always wines and dines me.
In the most expensive places one can eat.

Arriving in LIMO style.
Waiting upon the waiters greet.
Viewing the menu I reply, "Hun I am ready to order."
1 T-bone steak, fully cook the meat.

At our table, walked a gorgeous snake eyed women.
Who leaned over my husband's seat
Approaching my Chris with a big wet kiss.
I stomp my husband on his feet.
Giving him the look when I get pissed.
She slithers with her tongue into my Adams ear and whispers 
 "Later, go to that hotel where we always meet"
With one stare I yell, "Chris how could you cheat!"
"I had enough, I want a divorce MR.ADAMS!"
Slapping him in the moment of heat.
He replies, "She is my mistress Bath-Sheba my dear EVE!"
"I do not love her my sweet."
"I understand if you want a divorce!" Mr. Adams replied.
"Remember, no more furs, luxury suite, Winters in Barbados,
 Summers in Tuscany."
"Infinity or Lexus, and first class plane seats."
"Forget about the Yacht Club."
"Party by the swimming pool of one hundred feet."
"It is up to you my Kitty Skat Eve to give it all up."
"You decide if these diamonds you want to keep."

Without thinking of taking a leap.
I see Mr. Adams business partner Cain with a Jezebel in his arms.
I ask my husband Chris in a small peep. 
"Do not tell me that Cain commits Adultery to?"
"Cain's blond looks really cheap, as if she works the street."
"Well, our mistress is prettier, and looks real sweet."
"Honey our mistress Bath-Sheba is worth the keep."
"Mr. Adams tonight you can call me Steve and not Eve,
 What ever it takes to satisfy your needs, and my gold lust!"

(The moral of the story is what some Eve's  will do to keep their investment,
 I mean Adam's.) A joke and dedication to the most blunt Poet
 Of the soup, Chris D. Aechtner 
For THE Eve in Eden* (Contest) *

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Bubbly Cheerful And Happy

                            In a small town there lived a little lady
                                  The lady`s name was Lucinda
                     Lucinda was always bubbling, cheerful and happy
                           When she laughed here rolling laughter,
                              both her cheeks and bosom shaked
                          She was a beautiful woman with wide hips,
                              and a butt as big as a dinner table
                           Lucinda was old and walking was difficult
                                and life was not so easy for her
                              She had not so much in this world,
                               but she always brought a bicycle
                         Everyone in the small town would help her
                                        as best they could
                 Whatever you did for her, she thanked  with these words:
                             "You shall have my old bike when I die"
                Following the bubbling laughter, shaking cheeks and bosom
                           Everyone in the small town knew Lucinda,
                                 loved her and wanted to help her
                                     Same thanks every time:
                            "You shall have my old bike when I die"
                                        Now Lucinda is dead
                    Her bike the city has received as a gift from Lucinda
                   If you see a bike in the flower park in the small town
                  Is it to remind the beloved sweet, rolling round Lucinda 
                                 that was always cheerful and happy


                             * Just written for joy..... not for a contest

A-L Andresen

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My Cousin's Wedding

My cousin shared her wishes and dreams, On our star gazing night, she whispered them so sweet As a shooting star glided down from the sky, She said, I wish ….. I wish…. all I wish are these tonight Someday, I will marry a smart, rich and handsome guy And have a grandiose banquet on my nuptial rite We’ll be dancing like a lovely prince and princess , With all my wedding sponsors on their best suits and dresses All in pink ,that’s the motif I will surely request. She kept into her dreams as several years passed by, Still searching for her prince charming who’s hard to find Unconsciously going beyond the age to give birth to a child, In a hurry at age of seventy, she took a rich ninety years old guy. The wedding was held after a day or two, The guy seated on his wheelchair with rheumatism on his toe She headed slowly at the alter to accept his shaking hands, Two nurses followed, so with sponsors dressed up in printed brown. The highlight of the wedding rite started at once, They held tightly with a nebulizers on the other hands, But the words of oath, they took time to pronounce False teeth were both misplaced and nowhere to be found. Reception followed grandiosely in the guy’s mansion, I saw many old men and women still eager to dance on the floor, With hunched back, shaking knees, they twisted rock and roll Then, sweet music played and my cousin danced with her groom. But, we all wondered how did he stand alone? He’s so heavy , I knew my cousin couldn’t help him at all, With our great surprise, his nurse was at his side like his crutch Everyone thought , he’s really a smart guy! Was he not? Then, everyone followed them so happily on the spacious hall, And in trio, they held each other so tight and moved like a fool.
Written: Sept. 15, 2012 First Place Contest: My Cousin's Wedding (funny poem) Contest Judged: 9/30/2012 Poet Sponsor: Joann Grisetti

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So many shades of green

visitin me aunty Cushla
For the first time in Ballybay
I found meself beside a signpost
An I stopped to find me way.
It was then I spied a little feller
Laid behind a bale of hay
He was prepared to help me 
but wanted to know what I was prepared to pay.

Well I couldn't believe what I was hearin
He's a tight fisted scallywag
but he wouldn't listen to reason 
and jangled the coins in his money bag.
Would ye do that to a feller Irishman ?
I hope yer marry a sour faced old hag 
He said , Why do yer think I'm chargin yer
Shut yer gob an get out yer swag.

He rubbed his hands as I counted me money
Just like Ebenezer Scrooge 
Gigglin like an hyena 
With his cheeks the colour of rouge.
Twenty pieces of silver
I thought his price was huge
The guys a bloody comedian 
an I am to be his stooge.

He stood up from behind the bale
An dressed in so many shades of green 
With his funny hat and his little pipe
On his shillelagh he began to lean.
Now where was it yer said yer were goin
Ah Ballybay , Well to prove I'm not too mean 
I'm gonna walk there with yer 
Aren't I the most generous leprechaun yerv ever seen?

As we walked I told him about me aunty Cushla
an me bein on holiday fer two weeks
He handed me back me money 
I'm so dumbfounded I can't speak
Ah to see a leprechaun yer must believe 
He said,So yer must forgive me cheek
An its luvvly to see a young Irish lad
Who didn't treat me like a freak.

Well Shamus an me became buddies
Fer the duration of me stay
Downin pints an eatin colcannon 
an dancin in the Irish way
He could really play a fiddle 
An no more did I have to pay
I loved me visit to see aunty Cushla
On me first trip to Ballybay. 

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To All Four-legged AND Two-legged

Hello to all four-legged and two-legged friends in the big world
The people who take care of us, do not know as much as they think
We are probably smarter than they are
Take for example, that little cell phone that our people
always have with them wherever they go
What we do.....lift the foot and "send a message" to a friend
When I am out and walking with my people I get many interesting "messages"
Some "messages" are very interesting and take a little longer time to "read"
Then my people impatient, pulling and struggling the leash
What they can not understand that I must "answer" to all "messages"
Our "conversations" and "messages" are equally important
Think about it....they are also free....there is no expense
When their cell phone call or pling they take time to respond
Hello all two-legged humans our messages are just as important as yours

A-L Andresen

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Ewmer Fudd the Easter Gwinch and Dis WEALLY Buggs Me -

Pweeze wet me expwain, officer - 
I taught it was dat wascally wabbit agin...
buwwowing under my ewectric fence,
eating up my cawwots. wettece, my bwoccoli
and-and...even my woot-a-beggers!
He's a weal pest...constantwee hawassing me,
destwoying, wandom wooting, wuining my cwop...
din waughing at me! (Dere outta be a waw)

Wha...awwest me?...Dis is an outwage!
I am a waw-abiding citizen!...Wead me my wights!
I demand pwoper mis-wepwesentation!
I am going diwectly to your superwior office, pwivate!
Bewieve it my fwiend, you will wive to wegwet this...
Ow! Must you be so fweekin WUFF?...Dat hoits!
I have woomatism you know! Powice bwutality! Po...
Aw scwew it...Wes! Wes! I moidered da widdle bum!

(Wunning awound dwessed wike dat
distwibuting doze siwwie cowoured eggs
Embawassing widdle cweature...
It's a downwight disgwace I tell you)


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Reporting Live across the World

Reporting live on the soup, with Americas MOST. WANTED. POETS.
 Standing here with our host John, 
With an exclusive update on criminal poets, captured and on the run.
Switching over to you John,. "Thank you P.D., lets give thanks to all the 
P.M.W. tipsters, and our lovely F.B.I. agent Andrea Dietrich (Andy) & U.S. 
Marshal Shirley Harrison (S.H.)

Capturing 1 infamous fugitive Nikko Palmario, a comment crusader going contest crazy. 
Christopher Brantley, still at large U.S. Marshall (S.H.) says, "This brilliant fugitive leaves no 
trace." A dangerous poet posting comments longer than his poetry. Leaving a distinction of 
excellence in any short form.  P.M.W.tipsters Demand to be brought down to poetic justice.
P.M.W. Tip, led Marshall (S.H.) to the most notorious blond bombshell on the soup.
Captured on her vacation Linda Marie Bariana, lost control of her blond moment.
Paralyzing her laptop with sand. Covering to other crimes with to much poetry rhyme.
Her # 1 crime, entering a dark poet contest, to bad for this SWEET HEART who shines.         
Wanted in all nations Lynette Chachere a realistic poetic criminal against reality & dreams.
F.B.I.(Andy) Says"Our sweet Lynn, carries a weapons against all Enigma wonders."
A shameful crime to bring down a poets spirit with an intervene of her intense poetry.
F.B.I. Most wanted poetic lunatics, Billy the Kidster, with a Mental Poet Disorder.
A maniac on the rampage, a poet who lost it, with a crime slamming himself.
F.B.I. Most wanted viscous fugitive Christopher D. Aechtner, alias Vomiticus Grammaticus.
This former Canadian elusive bad boy, topping the hot list, a harmless poetic threat. 
Dakarai Cobbs, a 30 year old soups spot robbing thug. F.B.I.(Andy) Says "We offer 1 million
For the capture of this accused space invader aka the Sonnet man.
A poetic gang banger posting out of control, with a drive by of 130 hits in less than a month
Nathan Dilts, at large with the biggest search in poet history. 
A terrorizing poet implanting each poet with frightening thoughts and images so twisted.         
Making his followers absorb his evil poetic plots, while connecting center of dots.
F.B.I.(Andy) Says he is a mastermind with explosive & twisted thoughts.
Marshall (S.H.)Says "there is nothing we won't do to take his Poet License away.
  ((sorry no room for the Poet Destroyer))
Back to you P.D. "thank you John, there you have it soupers a few top criminal poets."
Reporting live on the soup P.D., all across the world enjoying our poetry security

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The Tale of the Dirty Dick

Girls, if you ever find a man of great persistence
Listen to your ******, and say NO! with adequate resistance
You see chicks, when a dude gets a hard dick
If it's dirty, it can make you super sick
Painful pisses and cloudy urine will follow suit
All because Dirty Dick Man wanted to discharge his root
So, ladies, beware...there are diseases out there
No Dick gets serviced until it's clean and faire
Run, scream, shout, "Spank your ****ing monkey!"
Please, I beg of you, do as I now  propose
Keep your ****** sparkling clean-never let it decompose.

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The Dog and the Rabbit

The dog seen a rabbit and how he did chase
to catch that little critter and boy what a race

But one thing that rabbit knew as he ran away
he was not going to be lunch for that dog today

Around the tree and  into the bushes he went
the dog was right after that little rabbit's scent

the dog was so busy that he never did see
that big old  hornet nest  way up in the tree

running and barking and making a sound
made all the hornets start buzzing around

They all made a dive and together they flew
when they  hit the dog he knew he was through

He made up his mind right there and then
he would never go chasing that rabbit again

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OMG Whatever


Oh - Emm - Geeeee !!!

Who me??

OMG!...I'm gonna wig out, doing this poem!!
A ditz like me writing for a freakin’ contest, no less!!!??
You gotta be kiddin' me !!!    Holy fricassee!!

No Way. Jose' !! I'm such a space cadet....OMG !! I’m spazzing out!!
Well...geeze, then..... like,  I get this head rush...
I'm getting majorly stoked, ya know?..Like...maybe I’ll give it a shot?...

Still...ya know..., whaddif I, like, totally bombed it!!? OMG!!
I mean, like, ya know how all them other poets?... they are so, ya know? awesomely rad!?
Like... say, they eyeball mine, and bustin’ up, they scream…
   "Gag me with a spoon?!! CHECK OUT THIS FREAKIN’ GROSS POEM!”

Well,what the hay,.... biggie, guess it wouldn't such a bummer...
yeah......well, shoot, they can call me a loser......who gives a rip??

So, I figure, like ....Whatever, dude!!
Okay, now, I'm totally pumped,...ya know? 

Waddif it’s ends up freakin’ sweet?  Oh, Pleeeease!!!
Like a win, geeze that would be majorly...rad!!!
I KID YOU NOT!  OMG !!! I'm so SURE !!  YEAH RIGHT,….AS IF!!!!! 

Man, I’m so clueless …hmm.  how do I even start this freakin' essay?

so, goes...okay? 

Ya' say they won't like it, huh??.. HUH ???  Ya' think??

Tell em to go take a chill pill!!

Duhhhh........!!!!?  WHATEVER!!

Just for fun!:  For the Slang Contest 
(and be sure....this isn't how I normally talk LOL !!)


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They organized a church bazaar,
To raise money for the poor.
A booth for selling chances
Was set up, outside the door.

When I bought the raffle ticket, 
My reasoning was murky,
And I could only just believe it,
When I won that doggone turkey.

Now, the kids were all excited
When we brought the critter home.
So we placed him in the barnyard, 
Where he'd have lots of room to roam.

Since the date was late October,
I'm quite sure you understand,
That to have him for Thanksgiving
Was my awe inspiring plan.

Well, the turkey was no birdbrain,
As I was very soon to find.
That bird knew what I was thinking;
Why, I declare, he read my mind. 

I let the children care for him,
To my most profound regret--
He turned on his charming manner,
And, quickly, he became their pet.

But that fact did not deter me,
I told myself it didn't matter.
I was dead set and determined
To see that gobbler on a platter.

When the kids perceived my purpose,
They turned on the tears and pleas.
Then, the wife joined in their chorus,
And that brought me to my knees.

So I told my grieving family
They could dry up, and relax.
I concealed my disappointment--
Went and put away the axe.

Came the dinner of Thanksgiving,
Not a sad face could be found.
And our live Thanksgiving turkey
Was the gladdest bird around. 

We gathered around the table,
And I humbly asked the blessing--
While Tom gobbled down his corn, outside,
We had hotdogs and dressing. 

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Tallahassee Driving

upon hard grey streets of asphalt I drive
through morn’s muted orange glow 
white headlights shine, red brake lights blink in time
with changing signals red, yellow, green
disoriented city visitors a hindrance to the flow
why at seven a.m.

now stopped two cars back waiting for green
a woman in a minivan ahead primps methodically 
striving in effect to give herself a perm.
the man beside is engrossed in the news
early edition of  today’s tabloid spread over the wheel
will he know when it’s time to go

behind, a husband and wife, I assume
each talk animatedly on their phones
while obnoxious unrestrained children carouse 
a movie playing on the DVD
an ancient pickup stopped in the suicide lane
right turn flashing “let me in!”

green, the light changes, yet still we wait
one, two, three and horns start to blare
shaken are they from hypnotic states
virtual hair salons, libraries, and phone booths abandoned
traffic moves once again in earnest
until the very next crowded intersection.

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Making Lemonade

When you're walking Scuffling along in trouble's shoes Head hanging low Mumbling moody blues Well me, I'm making lemonade Why can't you Taking bitter adding something sweet Maybe a smidge, no a heap full of hope Heck, by days end I'll mix it up Movin' straight to, getting crazy in root beer floats When all you see is red Awful thoughts pound your head "Honey do this, honey do that" I'm sitting back Feet up, sipping lemonade again You look my way and say "Boy, he's got it made" Not so my friend I just taking my lemons And making me some lemonade instead There's so much "other time" To have your little gripes Or your petty cries But, now let's toast away the grind And partake in some lemonade on ice You've come this far "And guess what? You've got your health" Check your pulse you're still alive So change your ways Brother, embrace the lemons Squeeze fresh into winner ala mode And "live baby, baby live! in lemonade days "Ahhh ... such sweetness"

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Call Me Gonzo

For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes 
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.

I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.

I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women 
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.

I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the opium parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.

Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the 
empty range for my return.

I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone 
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a 
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.

Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even vulgar and 
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.

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The 100 mph Goat

These two guys were out on a bird hunt
Suddenly they came upon a pit
Looks deep said one; I’ll throw some rocks in
And see how long it takes them to hit

Never heard the rocks hit the bottom
OK, I have an idea, said one
I saw an old transmission back there
We’ll hear it hit; it must weigh a ton

They worked hard dragging that transmission
Then they pushed it down into the pit
They listened intently for a noise
So anxious to finally hear it hit

Suddenly from the brush behind them
A Goat emerged, running to beat sh..
One hundred mile per hour bee-line
Ran right between them into the pit

They looked at each other “dumb founded”
When a farmer drove up in his truck
“Have you guys seen my goat around here?”
One hunter said; “You’ve had some bad luck”

“A goat just ran straight into this pit
He looked like he was on a mission”
“Well, that sure couldn’t have been my goat
My goat was chained to a transmission”

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Super Soupers

I love this place,
it puts a smile on my face.

Super Soupers, writing away,
making me smile, and wanting to stay.

New soupers, joining everyday,
a super place for poets to play.

Old friends, new friends,
all joining in.

We are so blessed,
this is as good as it can get.

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A Special Camping Trip

                                      - I am brave and big boy
                                      - Can I go camping
                                      - Adrian my smallest  grandchild
                                      - I can do it myself
                                      - Where are you going 
                                      - Not very far
                                      - In the garden at great grandmother
                                      - Great grandmother is dead my little friend
                                      - Yes, I know
                                      - The place that she has her gravestone
                                         there will I set up my tent
                                      - At night, I would tell her that I still miss her

          - A true small story ....... Children have many beautiful thoughts and question
                                - However, there became no camping

A-L  Andresen :)

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Grandparents Before - But not today

Grandmothers and grandfathers how they look,
how can we see that there is a grandmother or a grandfather
When I was a little girl we could see a grandmother and a grandfather
Grandparents used hats, glasses, and walking stick
The skin of their face was weathered and wrinkled
Some had teeth they put in a glass in the evening

Grandmothers always had time for a glass of juice and a hug
She was never impatient, tie shoelaces with pleasure
Always in floral dresses, which smelled like grandma
Grandmothers wont not be at work tomorrow, she has time for an adventure
She does not skip a single word, to be finished soon
It was always sweets in grandmother's hand bag
She never spared, but shared with a beautiful smile

Grandfathers were a bit more restrained,
 bit concerned about the day's news in their newspaper
He would like to go for a walk, and he walks with small cautious steps
When he meet someone he knows, he lifts a bit on his hat and nod
He has very little hair on his head, and his head shines in the sun
Grandfathers have a strong hand to hold, I was confident in his hand
He could tell me what all the birds called, he was so wise

Everyone should experience an old-fashioned grandmother and grandfather
one that does not have a television, computer or washing machine
A grandmother and grandfather who always have good time

But it was in the past ..... not today...

A-L  Andresen :)

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School Days

(and long brown stockings) 

I detest these stockings,
they're coarse, brown and ugly.

I hate the garters more;
elastic circles that cut off 
circulation and fail to halt 
the laddering down my skinny legs.

If only . . . I picture myself
in warm jeans and no teasing
from Tommy Rogers.

I put the garters to better use,
roll the repulsive stockings
down around my ankles. 

Tommy taunts,
"Who gave you
jointed toothpicks for legs?"

I lost it.

Now, Tommy has a black eye
and my nose is in the corner.

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- The BIG Bet -

                                               I made a bet
                                           with my youngest
                                           grandchild Adrian
                                              No big money
                                       We bet for a penny each
                                   The result was that Adrian lost
                                        Huge loss for a little boy
                                        He tried to blow it away
                               His brother reminded him of the penny
                                      A thoughtful answer came:
                              "Grandma does not care about money"
                             ... "She can rather get four good huggs"

                                                  - True story

A-L  Andresen :)

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I Do Not Want Eggs - Do Not Like Eggs


                        Little Laila was on overnight visits to Grandma
                   Early in the morning Grandma made Sunday breakfast
                     Little Laila came into the kitchen where the smell of
                freshly cooked coffee, freshly baked bread....and "boiled egg"
                  Little Laila does not like eggs....and says to her Grandma
                             "I do not want eggs - do not like eggs"
                                But Grandma had not boiled eggs
                             she had farted and it smelled like eggs
                                     Grandma got a good laugh
                              And I hope you will laugh at this too.... :)

True story
Anne-Lise Andresen :)

(5th in the contest)

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Burger Joint

Lucy and Matilda were on the job at the burger joint.
Bad boy Buzz Muldoon rushed in brandishing a gun.
Matilda kicked the would-be robber square in his junk.
Lucy bashed his head in with a badass ball-peen hammer.
The two hard working ladies continued cleaning up the joint.
They chunked Muldoon in the dumpster with the rest of the trash.
Lucy and Matilda opened the establishment without missing a beat.
It was just another typical day right here in the big bad city.
To be successful entrepreneurs in this old turbulent world,
you have to grow a pair of big brass gnarly ones, be you male or female.

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Oil and Gold

There was a farmer
By the name of Jim Laramie
Who owned a small farm
With his loving wife Sammy

He was one cent away
From losing his farm
But all that changed one day
When he was out in his garden

His shovel hit something very hard; 
It made a loud clanging sound
He dug up with his bare hands
What he had dug out from beneath the ground

Was a piece of shiny gold!
He could not believe what he had found
But that was not all
Soon he heard a low rumbling sound

Oil erupted from beneath his feet!
His wife witnessed the whole thing
As she sat in her seat
From the front porch of the house

They soon sold the farm
To the big oil and mining companies
And were paid $10,000,000
Now they are both knee deep

In money, jewelry, and cars
Now they are as famous
As any of the Hollywood movie stars
All because of oil and gold

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- Sticking Relationship -

                                       Hear it chugging and tasle
                                         The sun has gone down
                                         Twilight, is still not dark
                                   Small steps ... chugging and tasle
                                         The dog is standing still
                                           Sniffing and listening
                                           Sounds comes closer
                                   A small ball comes out of the bushes
                                      My favorite toy, the dog thinking
                                       Sticking her nose up ..... but ...
                                       The ball is full of sticking spines
                                            it makes a hissing sound
                                     Hedgehog will not play with the dog

A-L  Andresen :)                 - This is my dog "Maya" :))

(5th in the contest)

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Shake, Rattle and Roll - Big Joe Turner

Third verse:
I'm like a one-eyed cat peepin' in a seafood sto'
I'm like a one-eyed cat peepin' in a seafood sto'
Well I can look at you and tell you ain' no child no mo'
A few interpretations for this visually challanged and rather paranoid creature:

Still makes me hungry just don't LOOK good as it used to or
Still smells good, just ain't sure what I'm SMELLIN' no more or
Don't LOOK good as it used to, Don't SMELL good as it used to and
Definitely don't TASTE good as it used to or...

I was born that way, so what? or
Used to have two, now I only got one and
That's all you need to peep with anyways and
I think that's all you got left too so...

Let's put our eyes together on this thing and
Let's sneak over there and tom-peep that hole and
You peep on the women seafood and tell me about it and
I'll peep on the men seafood and tell you about it and...

Wait a minute here, something's not...
No, no I'm not gay! I swear I'm not!
I know by the above verse it might appear that way but
I swear to god! I swear to god I never...

Alright now, this has gone JUST ABOUT FAR ENOUGH and
You can't hardly tell them apart anyway and
The men don't even have one...they just kinda sprinkle, you know and
The rest just...How do I know? Well it somewhere and...

Oh, just kiss my big you-know-what! and
Wait!...I-I mean...if you're a FEMALE fish you can or a lady uh...
Oyster? Or girl crab or ..Hey, stop that!...Ow!
I didn't say...Ouch! Why you!...(Sigh) let's try this again, shall we?
Sorry folks...Just had to get this out of my system...Hope you think it's funny and
What?... WELL!! Kiss my-my uh...Elbow!...yeah, that's it! My elbow...
Bill Haley and the Comets became rich and famous for doing a 'sanitized' version of this song in 1954... Big Joe's original was considered too suggestive and sexual for white audiences...

Second verse for example:
'Way you wear those dresses, the sun come shinin' thru
Way you wear those dresses, the sun come shinin' thru
I can't believe my eyes all that mess belong to you'

(In 'proper' English: THE way you wear those dresses) 

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A Quiet Exit

A Quiet Exit

Poetry is disciplined

However, sometimes at the executive table
when a situation is not going according to plans
It's better to excuse yourself because of evil man

however, before leaving, relief a quiet fart
then make the exit,  gracefully glance
 over your  shoulder and smile
watch and observed who sense your present.

Ladies and Gentlemen have a wonderful day!

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"Another date you and I !!"
Sharing moments ~ "Eye To Eye!!"
Lost of words and you know why?
Your trophy is to kill,
mine's to hang you out to dry.
Testing your skill,
simmering my skills down to your level.
You play like Mr Sandman, slipping me with a sleeping pill.
You don't have what it takes to pick up the pace.
You think this is like the rabbit and turtle race. 

You take up, to much time studying my moves.
"I pull the same ones, THAT'S WHY YOU ALWAYS LOSE!! "

In some games you have me  figured out.
Due to that one corner move, that makes me shout.
Another double jump'
You got me off guard!
I love the way you show me~ NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A RETARD~
King me! 
You say and I say no way!
Another game you win, when I lose my patients to play.

Every one of your moves has a ploy,
My sweet love, I'm only here to destroy.
I don't know why you think this game is LONG-TERM.
Waiting for you to move, is wearing out my new perm.
I can feel all the mass pass me by, its like watching a worm slowly die.
Sorry if I jumped twice before your piece was confirm.
But, it is very cute to watch you wiggle and squirm.

I don't like the way you bring my race with a slow victory.
It's like killing a roach without glory.
I rejects this formal game to base it on reality.
As  our minds are internal contradictory.

I hope you realize you will never be better than me.
All the games you won, lets say there where freebies.
In order to play a flawless game of checkers, 
you have to consider "" no winners at all ""

Go ahead and jump, this one's on me.
I love the way you tease and love me tenderly.
There you go with your dirty grin.
So devilish, when I let you win.


dedicated to: Nate..
Who can't keep up with my wins on CHECKERS.....

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The Night

Mr. Pickles went to ease his marital
tensions in a bar, visible with neon lights-
unfortunately he had left his wallet home.

After drinking his night away, he starts a fight,
to help himself out of the bar without any pay
to the bartender.

Drunk and dizzy, he finds himself lying on a smooth,
glittering surface, surrounded by light.

“Oh, God, thank you for taking me!” Mr. Pickles shouts 
with jubilation, thinking that he is in Heaven-only later 
to realize that they were police lights; only later to 
realize that he was being helped to his feet by cops, 
and not angels.

It is after the hangover that he noticed that
he was in a cell; the last place he imagined
he could be.

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DIRE STRAITS was playing on the KITCHEN radio while ROSIE tried in vain to play along 
with “Money for Nothing” on her HAMMOND organ. Her house always looked like a NUCLEAR 
WASTE(land) with huge TID-BITS of food all over the counters and floor. Her husband 
Roscoe was an inept VACUUM SALESMAN who went door to door wearing blue SPANDEX 
BOXER SHORTS. His face was full of zits that looked like LUNAR CRATERS. Roscoe constantly 
dabbed the zits with LISTERINE SOAKED TISSUE(s) as his MEDICINE of choice. It wasn’t 
CONVENTION(al) but it lessened the PAIN somewhat.
FRIENDS and neighbors never invited the pair to any of their GIG(s) because they ate 
like “cone heads” when they were in the WINE AND DINE mode. On rare occasions when 
they did partake of a repast at someone’s house they left WORMHOLES in all the sandwiches. 
They would just take a sample bite and put it back on the tray which always reviled the next 
one in line.
The two of them are so socially ignorant that when it came time to thank the host for the 
invitation, they felt it was a UFO situation. To them, this meant in their DRIFTING minds they 
were Un Obligated to say thanks. I say all of this because knowing my brother and 
sister-in-law as I do, I guarantee they will never experience any INSOMNIA or remorse over 
their outrageous public behaviors.

* For entry in the Wacky Weekend Challenge

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Literature was pursued
by the greatest individuals who ever lived,
and they left us works of unsurpassable wisdom;
human emotions have always been the same, 
and this can't attest to the fact that they will not change anytime soon,
but the freer we are, the further we go up in our balloon.

The richest heritage of Humankind
is found in the written word, which is heard often and not really understood;
where would we be today without the plays and sonnets of Shakespeare that were quite sad,  
or Dante's famous canto, not excluding superb works by modern writers?...
During the dark ages, monks translated books from Greek and Latin into common languages;
as the barbarians destroyed everything found in their path, civilization did not end.

Tragedies of famous people attracted the lucrative minds of poets who had heard of them,
thus embellishing them with their vivid imagination and present actual facts...I follow in
their poetic footsteps, writing down stories that have recently happened, or occurred
before I was born; and with ideas as interesting as theirs, I continue in that tradition
without envying their unaging expressions and distinguished style, but by aggrandizing them.

Literature has finally found its merited place in History, unlikely a hundred years ago,
more people are voraciously reading, and keeping the writers busy by admiring
their sensational works, making comments of encouragement to boost up their optimism;
and to theaters they go and spent an entire night to listen to drama and scoff,
laugh, or cry when emotions intensify by the sconces of the electric lights; and cheering,
they applaud the richest heritage of Humankind on stage, and are captivated by its scenario.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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My son and his family drove down from the big city,
out to the countryside with open fields and steams.
They brought their standard golden poodle along, 
a curly-haired fellow, name of Timmy.
Timmy had never seen a cat;
not even a mole or a furry rat.
Visiting country kin, he was checking things out.

Everything went fine that very first day.
Cats went about paying him no mind.
He walked about just passing time.
On that second day there was a big mistake.
Being a city dog with more worldy ways,
to add pleasure to his hum-drum days,
he thought it time to befriend these country kin.
The cats had never seen a dog this small,
only those on stilts, big, long and tall, 
like Pyrenees, big wide mouths and teeth to match.
With barking big dogs on the scene,
up a tree they squirreled, never to be seen.
But this golden-haired fellow, with city clout--
they’d give him benefit of instinctive doubt.

Mama cat was even so bold 
to sniff this city slicker right on the nose.
Sizing him up all the while, a friendly rat, she surmised,
a might bigger than some she had seen,
playing cat and mouse, yet acting so coy;  
that is, until that overgrown golden-haired rat  
walked up to Mama’s black baby boy.

Mama’s two other sons, another black and a blue,
began to gather nearer this city dweller, too.
Timmy politely extended his nose.
black son cat extended his razor-sharp claws,
with a bristled tail and fierce hissing jaws. 
Timmy let out with a painful yelp,
as Mama cat called all boys in for help.

Cats surrounded and gave chase to the dog,
life-fearing circles around the cedar tree he’d log;
four hissing cats hot on his tail,
poor Timmy yelping in a desperate wail.
The master of Timmy gave rescue,  
but Mama cat and her three grown sons,
strutting in pride, putting a dog on the run. 

Written by:  Carolyn Henderson
For Constance LaFrance's Cat Poem Contest
Won 9th Place

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ATTENTION vignette form

In the base motor pool
See an off-limits card school-
A scheming Bilko takes the pot
Hoodwinking top brass was his game,
Fast talking his claim to fame.

Brian Strand  Rhyme me an olf TV show-Sergeant Bilko

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The Owl

Hey there Owl sitting up in that tree,
What are you doing looking down at me?
So with a quick little wink and a short little sigh,
that old Owl just replied,
Well I don't see any mice or rabbits or bears ,
no Eagles or Hawks or Robins, any where.
No Deer or Elk or even a Moose,
So then; yes Mr. Owl I was speaking to you.
That old owl just turned his head,
looked the other way and calmly said;
So with a bit of disgust I started again,
naming off animals, and  even some kin,
I don't see an Elephant or a Zebra or even a  laughing Hyena,
I don't see my brother or sister or even Aunt Myrtle,
Why I don't even see a slow crawling Turtle.
That old Owl turned his head about and looked straight at me,
and with a bit of chagrin in his eye which I could see, said;
I could see I was getting no where fast,
and this questioning I was doing was not going to last.
So I decided I would end it and just walk away.
I was wasting my time trying to get him to say;
anything but,  
So I turned and started to walk away,
when I heard these words, in a wise old way.
"I am the wisest of all the birds, because I listen to all I've heard.
I don't interrupt and I wait my turn, 
these things are what make me the wisest bird." 
I turned back to him and with a wink and grin,
I simply said;

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Awfully Agonized Agony Aunt

Dear depressed girlfriend – 

I recommend Paxil or any other brand of those happy pills. Also, I ain’t NOBODYS aunt and I’m not all that agonized either. I’m a MAN not a woman and I resemble your inference that I am woman. I AM an uncle and if I get my hands on you I’ll make you cry exactly that. I kinda like to wrestle with women anyway. Sometimes I even let them win. Once I wrestled a woman who was a body builder and she pinned me in a matter of seconds. I rather enjoyed it but I wasn’t too crazy about getting muddy. I asked her if she’d like to shower with me and she pinned me AGAIN and busted me up pretty good too…
And ANOTHER thing, just because I like to put on a dress and makeup and prance around in front of the mirror doesn’t mean I’m a woman either. I am VERY secure about my sexual orientation, although I have considered getting one of those operations I’ve heard about but guess what? My insurance wouldn’t cover it! Needless to say I was outraged...
You will have to take full responsibility for your nausea too. You should NEVER have joined the Navy in the first place unless you’re…Naw, can’t be! They don’t allow that sort of thing aboard ship do they? Go to Sick Bay and get some Dramamine and Pepto for god’s sake!
Hey, you wanna be MY girlfriend? Ouch! Look, you left a mark…

A recently agonized uncle who just cried ‘uncle’

---For Vicky’s contest

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PLEASE SEE! (This is a BLOG!)

Gaaah! Have I mentioned how much I want to blog these days? :( 

I think I've been on the soup for quite awhile, and I would love to get to know everyone 
more. But it seems like the best way to do that is to have a blog, and I'm not a premium 
member, so sometimes it feels like a bit of a restriction. Of course, it's a great privilege and 
I look forward to the day when I might become a PM, since right now I can't (for personal 

So this is like my kinda-sorta blog. I don't know how many people will see it and comment 
on it, though I wish do you would! Any questions you have about me? Most of you might not 
know me, I unfortunately couldn't make many rounds commenting on your poems since I 
can only grab a few minutes of PoetrySoup in my busy schedule... 

So...would it be okay if I posted a bio on this and stuff? Would you be willing to read it? 

Everyone seems to friendly here, it really makes me want to chatter! Haha.


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Granny And Your last glass of water

He starts singing songs of Ireland and we are home in a jiffy
"What's a jiffy," my mother wonders
"Guess  where we went Granny?"
"I don't know but I have a feeling you are gonna tell me," answers my grandmother
"And Don't call me Granny!"
"We went to church so Poppy could ask secret questions."
"The priest gave Poppy a shot and a beer and Poppy sent me next store and he gave me money for  taffy."
"He told me not to tell anyone especially you about the priest cause it's only for the priests ears."
"He said God would take away taffy and I'd never get another goodie and God would strike me dead if I told."
"So I can't tell anyone."
"He did," and she starts yelling and grabs a weapon,"what kind of idiot would be scaring a little child?"
Granny is standing on  Poppy's toes and and asking him questions of where he'd been and getting a sniff of his breath
"So what did you tell  the priest and him giving you consolation and a shot and beer."
"That little rat ," and thinks about the money for candy
Later, Granny is chasing Poppy with that big iron frying pan and poppy running and singing
"In Heaven they have no beer, that's why we drink it here."
"You damn fool I'm gonna bust you in the head, "and throws the pan at his head
And later
Cousin Francis has bill collectors come to the house looking for him
Granny was four foot seven  inches and she starts kicking him in the shin
My Mother grabs his Dick Tracy hat and she jumps on it and flattens it
I ask my mom where I was when this happened and she pauses
" You were in Heaven Patrick waiting with your brother!"
The truancy officers bang on the door and want to know where Uncle Charles is
Granny shrugs and says, "He is upstairs and the sound of the window going up sounds
They all run upstairs and see Uncle sliding down the tree and running as fast as his
seven year legs can move
He comes home later that evening holding a goose under his arm
And Poppy has a soft-boiled goose egg for breakfast every morning
I ask Uncle what happened to that goose and He said,"one day he came home  and
they had chicken for dinner."
And Poppy was gone to heaven to get me and my brother ready Mom says
And Granny sits my brother and me on her lap and says,"you two knuckleheads listen up."
"This is very important so don't forget it."
"Treat people the way you want to be treated, because you never know who is going to hand you your last glass of water"

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For the Love of: Love Bugs

Even though you don't have a lick of sense
in that tiny black-and-red head of yours,
I am forced to admit that I envy you
spending ninety percent of your life
flying around hooked up that way but heck,
life is short and we all gotta die anyway and
wow, what a way to go...Just wondering - 
Do you folks have multiple orgasms?
Do you have monogamous relationships
or do you fool around with other bugs?
And when do you ladies ever find the time
to lay eggs and just who is flying who?
Which one flies backwards and if you're the pilot,
how the heck do you see where you're going
and don't you ever simply get flat exhausted?
Or maybe when one of you gets tired
it's like "Hey hon, you mind taking over?
I'm just gonna try and grab a quick nap...
You okay? You sure?..."No I'm fine, really"

Well I say shame-shame!...Flying around 
impaired like that and I would STRONGLY advise
against flying while having sexual relations...
Geez!...No wonder you end up
splattered all over my windshield...

Well, I-um...DID have sex once during flight
but she DAMN sure wasn't the pilot...
or even the CO-pilot...Oh-no-she-was-NOT
I mean, maybe a co-PARTNER but not...
Ohh...just forget it you little maggot!
You're really starting to bug me

***For those readers who live elsewhere and have not had the pleasure...Love bugs are a common pest in the South in May and early September, particularly along the Gulf Coast. They swarm in pairs with abdomens hooked back-to back, clogging up radiators causing over-heating and can ruin paint finishes if not washed off immediatley. It is rumored they are a botched genetic experiment...bred to eventually become all females to mate with male mosquitoes thus making them sterile. Unfortunately, someone accidentally let a boy-bug meet a girl-bug and the two young lovers made their escape to freedom...  

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Lenny the leprechaun

Lenny the leprechaun was addicted to porn 
He watched every day on the internet 
Then he'd sleep from dusk to dawn 
Having dreams he couldn't forget .

So his magic he is weaving 
He will make a Colleen of his own 
In him she'd be believing 
Then he wouldn't have to sleep alone.

Burnt straw would make her raven hair
Clover gave her eyes of green 
A little padding here and there 
He had soon made a beautiful Colleen.

He cast his spell and all was well 
As she took human form 
To be sure she'd love him he could tell
She even felt so nice and warm .

So he gave her his sexiest wink 
and cast an eye toward the stairs
She tried to talk but could only blink
For no sound was there there.

Aha thought he , Silly me 
Then he gave her a voice 
She sounded so sultry and so sexy 
He felt his heart rejoice.

That was until she spoke to her new bloke
Telling him to get those ideas out of his head
All this stuffing and padding this room is a joke
and I bet you haven't even made the bed .

Just like a man you've done half a job
Now I've got cook and clean 
Don't you dare whinge and shut your gob 
There will be no rest for Sweet Colleen .

Poor old Lenny the leprechaun 
Now hides in the garden shed 
Never more will he watch porn 
Such thoughts never enter his head. 

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Corny Dog Man

I am Corny Dog Man,
the fave Super Hero in all the land.
My main mission is to hand out free
cornmeal-batter covered foot long
hot dogs skewered on a stick
to every hungry girl and boy
in the whole wide blessed world.
My sidekick Honey Mustard Girl
is always right by my side
with the sweet tasty dip
for more added enjoyment
for all of my myriad of kiddie fans.
Never fear kiddos, I’ll be there to
make sure one and all will receive at
least one yummy to the tummy meal
before I fly back to Junk Food Paradise to
refill my Biggie Boy Backpack with many more
foot long corny dogs for your eating pleasure.

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Her husbands wrath

With prudence I stepped
in the candle lit room
with the utmost discretion,
and yes
there she was
without the layer to cover
her pink flesh !

How prudent could I have been
with knowledge of her whim,
a soul did ask 

says I,”
unclad before him;
“an entry with facts supersedes
an entry of chance”.

That bullet stung !

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I am very stressed today.
I sat at my desk today and kept thinking about all the things I need to do then made a list of 
them all. All day I spent the morning worrying about the things I needed to do and wondered 
how I was going to finish them all. So, I made a list of the steps for how I going to complete 
each thing I listed, then wondered how I was going to complete all those steps. Now, I'm 
putting all the steps in order so it makes sense and makes it easier to get all the things done 
that I need to do. I was surprised when I read the list I made and found that the one thing I 
wanted to do today was merely to finish something. But that one small task had twenty-
seven steps. Yes, it's been a VERY stressful day.

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God's glance and a fine memory
Poppy snores away sitting in his comfortable chair
And Granny takes a feather and tickles his nose
He  wipes at his face and goes back to his fantastic snore
Poppy from Ireland and his shot and a beer
On payday Granny sends my Mother with Poppy as a reminder
"And don't take any side routes"
He gets his pay and starts to home
They walk to the chapel and  just one
It's always just one
He tells my mother to wait outside and he hands her  25 cents
"Now don't forget when Mommy questions you, where did we go."
 "We went to see Father Duke and Poppy I'm not dumb."
"I'm gonna have a palaver with this priest," as he goes into the bar
"Keep your mouth shut I need to ask the priest some advice."
He drinks a few quick shots and faster beer's 
And my mother buys a taffy
She stands waiting and eating taffy and Poppy happily comes out of the bar
"Now don't forget that we got the pay and I took you to get a goodie."
"But Poppy what about the priest who gave you a shot and beer?"
"Don't be talking and eat your goodie."

For some reason it wouldn't take the whole poem,, That's why I had to continue to Granny2

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Ghetto Santa

Upon our roof top did he arrived, two reindeers short and blood shot eyes.  With his gray 
and black beard with bits of food inside…I thought it was suppose to be white?  They also 
told me he had a cute button nose…his nose was big and by no means cute. He attempted 
to enter thru the chimney top, only to discover that it was a false smoke top. So he being 
Old Nick, I could hear him as he fumbled with some keys as he did huff in discuss.  His 
belt did seem a little bit too big for his gut and his and butt was as big as my dad’s big old 
butt. From behind the big chair were I did hide by the tree, I could smell the aroma of 
cheap alcohol coming off his breath as he bent over by the Christmas tree to deposit our 
gifts. To despite the fact that he had been to plenty of houses before ours that had real 
chimneys, his red suit was not covered with one drop single drop of soot! No not even one 
dirt spot and the boots that he had on look like my dad's old work boots! I chuckled to 
myself… and said maybe it’s made of some special stuff? As I he place the last gift in 
place up under the tree, he then reach his hands to the sky and then grabbed his lower 
back, I thought he was suppose to be jolly and all that stuff? The whole time he was here, 
I could almost be certain that I could hear him cursimg from up under his breath… but to 
my surprise he eat the cookies and milk that my mom had left, but the damndest thing 
happen as he flung his back pack over his back and proceed to leave, but instead of going 
back out the front door, he made a sudden turn toward the stairs and went up and into my 
parents room and never left? I final said I had seen enough, I just chucked it up to 
another year in the Ghetto and my first real sighting of legendary Ghetto Santa and one 
which I hope would be my last!

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Famous Boots

As a little girl she loved western boots

Loved to pretend she was riding a giant horse

Pictures were all over the home of her and the white boots

When she got a little older she finally rode a real horse with laughter

Her parents bought her a horse when she was ten and took many pictures

She wore her boots and that horse as well

She fed the horse apples,carrots and peppermints

The horse would chomp the apple and carrots but put the peppermints in his cheek

He sucked on that candy and the drool was red

She would wear her battered boots to school and the horse wore the drool

When she was eighteen the horse died but the boots didn't

They were bigger now and polished in case the boys called

She bought a new horse but wore the old boots

The horse didn't know they were old and the boots were shined

Her friends were all fashionable but the boots were hers

They carried her with marriage,babies and through her divorce

The heels wore down like her marriage but she didn't and the new horse loved peppermints too

Marriages wear as do people but those famous boots can be re shod

And she was older and forgetful and the horse died

But when she put those boots on  she was ten and galloping

And she would chomp an apple or carrot and suck on a peppermint 

And the drool on her famous boots

To my dear friend and her horse who loved peppermints

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The little pen that tried to get drunk

That goofball husband of hers brought her to this joint to see her get drunk for the very first time. She actually plugged her nose trying to sip her first glass of beer. Good grief. 20 minutes and she barely finished it. She walked to the restroom and I felt her teetering just a little bit. She likes the feeling though, I can tell! I sure liked it when she started boogying to the beat of the band on her way back to the table. Too bad Mr. dingbat won’t ever dance with her. She keeps tapping her hands on the table to the rhythm of the music. That’s why I have to write so slow. . . . 
      Now  she’s   tryin ta   drink  another   beer  but   she   can   hardly stand it  an  her husband  sez come on don’t ya wanna know  how   it   fills   ta be drunk? She says   well at list I fill buzzd now. . . 

The nice buzz wore off. It’s at least an hour later. She and hubbie got this idea to go to the liquor store. First time she ever went to one. She thought maybe brandy would taste better so then she could drink something stronger and know how it felt to be drunk. Brandy sounded sweet and fruity to her. Boy was she wrong. She took a little taste and it burned going down. That stuff sucks just like the beer. . . . 

Wow she jus finisht tha hole boddle rily fast lik mebbie ten minuts ago so she kud fil drunk an she put me down ta finnish tha boddle in one shot    now she kant evin    kip her   eyez    opun    UH  ohhhhhhh

Epilogue:  The preceding narration was based on actual fact. Upon consuming an entire bottle of brandy in less than ten minutes, "she" immediately passed out, and I recall she awoke in the morning having forgotten everything that transpired once she fell asleep. Furthermore, when she went into the bathroom the next morning and saw some flecks of vomit on the walls, she was quite amazed. Why? Because she had no recollection of throwing up, and she realized her goofball husband had actually attempted to clean up a mess in their house for the first time in their young married life!!! 

By the way, Jenny, if you happen to be reading this, Shhhh. Please do not tell her other sisters. It would surely get back to you guys’ mother, and your poor upstanding church-loving mom might have a heart attack to hear of her daughter’s one transgression with the devil’s brew! Sincerely, Her Sober (albeit sometimes fanciful) Pen

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Love is a like a long weekend

Sleeps in and phone  muted

No one else is important but themselves

Window shopping on a Saturday

Drinking wine during an evening meal

Her eyes

And those eyes dark as a piece of coal

And as I work and Bee come

Sunlight turns them into honey

Eyes that see my different point of view

And they look at me with undeserved love

Those lips

And those lips that words of love come

Lips that desire to be kissed and sweetly

And love to be dressed in colors

That wait for me with kindness

Patiently smiling at my uncomfortableness

But Life Weakend

And so the pressure mounts as does Himself

Weakend by gravity the sags come

Their bodies get weak but their love survives

But not a day,week or moment goes by that isn't filled with love

But the weak inherit the world in the end


Just playing on the words...for fun

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Collaboration poem Our first meeting on the Isle of Man

Such a beautiful morning 
So quiet and serene 
Contented and yawning
I'm living the dream.
I lie back in my deckchair 
Emitting a contented sigh 
When landing on my chest from nowhere 
Came an exquisite butterfly. 

The butterfly landed upon my hairy chest 
I looked at it’s exquisite beauty it really was the best 
It nestled in quite gently then fluttered in the air 
When a beautiful young lady came running past my chair 
She really scored a perfect ten - my jaw was open wide 
I wanted nothing more than to have this beauty by my side 
I stood and showed my great physique and strutted round with pride 
I wanted this lady for myself one day she'd be my bride 

The butterfly heard my heart beating so strong 
It lifted its gossamer wings and the butterfly was gone 
As if giving thanks to my exquisite guest 
I caress the spot where he came to rest 
Whispering my gratitude for him revealing to me 
The beautiful face of my bride to be 
Now he danced on her breast and she wasn't wearing a bra 
What jammy gits those butterflies are. 

Our hearts beat fast and they entwined 
We went to a restaurant and wined and dined 
It was a special moment I didn’t want to miss 
For there we shared our very first kiss 
One thing lead to another and we headed to my room 
I grabbed my little blue pill – I wanted va va vroom 
This stunning young lady pulled me swiftly to her chest 
I could feel her heart beating underneath her thermal vest 

Ok Daz I'll put you through your paces 
Suspend you from the lampshade by your braces 
Set you bouncing then i'll slip under 
but was it worth it I'm starting to wonder 
All that gossip is just idle chatter 
I have to inform you, size does matter 
When I agreed to this afternoon of sin 
I never thought I'd ask , is it in ? 

But Jan sweetheart, Please hear my rebuttal 
That wasn't my willy, Just my belt buckle 
Now I'm determined you will feel my passion 
Flip you over and we'll do it doggie fashion 
A contented smile replaces the scowling 
The janitor rings, Will you two stop howling? 
We are perfect together but I know after tonight 
There is just no way you can get married in white.

Oh Darren my darling forgive me I pray 
I’m not after marriage, just a roll in the hay 
I’m sorry if you were after any more 
But after a few days I’ll find you a bore 
Come back to bed and let us not linger 
You now know I don’t want a ring on my finger 
I hate to feel you have been mislead 
Lets just have a little more fun in this bed 

Just like a man I'm becoming possessive 
In pursuit of my goal I'm vain and aggressive 
Wishing to own you to declare you are mine 
Wanting a wife not a concubine 
Not seeing the faults and the change in me 
I take your hand and fall on one knee 
Presenting the ring I bought from EBAY 
We can marry next week Jan, What do you say. 

Oh Darren in you I must confide 
I can never ever be your bride 
Although you think my name is Jan 
Before the op my name was Stan 
I thought I really must confess 
Before our lives become a mess 
I think we have reached the journeys end 
I will never forget you my handsome young friend 

By Jan Allison and Darren Watson

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Red In The Inside, But Black In The Outside

This Poem is about the 'hard to get' attitude ladies portray to interested guys.

Despite my unbelievable swag repugnance is her reaction to my flow despite giving no attention to her she seeks every opportunity to shout "NO!" I seldom want to be friendly but she spits on me like a bitter foe I then don't give a damn about her and she takes it like a heavy blow Out of nothing, she creates a scene but all I can do is shake my head and say Oh! the more I mingle, the worse she gets but I'll not succumb and act so low she flaunts her male acquaintances for me to notice Okay! You have admirers, so? I guessed this is a one time attitude but it has been occurring seven weeks in a row When I register my presence around her her body rhythm increases as if in physio trying so hard to pretend makes her seem like a shy dancing Buffalo Then, I make her seem not existing it's not my fault; you reap what you sow signs of her sufferings begin to show as her body trembles in sight of me from head to toe what a pleasant feeling this brings seeing her drown in her own woe Finally! She concedes defeat and already surrendering showing by the way she's changing like melting snow now playing the nice girl, but my ignore? Makes her want to stone me with a Hoe I'm beginning to compromise emotionally too and I'm scared she will get fed up and go so, I create my chance and kiss her as she shows her joy like a swelling dough revealing her hypocrisy, exhibited right from the beginning. Since this feeling is now reciprocated, she shrugs off the attitude and dumps it below as a new damsel now emitting with an everlasting glow.

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Sadie Hawkins' Dance Date

Freshman year, newcomer to public school,
   my hormones were roused by Billy D. in typing class.

Sadie Hawkins’ Dance just days away;
   a chance for girls to ask boys out.

Too shy to show my interest,
   crumpled bits of paper I formed into balls,
   tossed them at the back of Billy’s head.

Unsettled, as any boy would be, he glanced back at me.

Wry smile, how could he know how my heart raced?

Leo sat next to Billy, amused by this interaction.

Because of his demeanor, it was Leo I asked to the dance.

Turned out Leo couldn’t dance,
   though conversation was no problem.

Leo spent the entire night talking about being an Eagle Scout --
   tying knots, marking trails, building campfires --
   seemed we had little in common.

No chemistry at all, but Leo said, “Thank you,” at the dance’s end.

For years I spent many days wondering
   what if I’d slipped Billy an invitation note,
   instead of lobbing paper balls?

Perhaps he would have said, “Yes.”

I might have had my first embrace;
   maybe even my first kiss.

Years later at a school reunion
   Billy looked more handsome than ever;
   served as CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation.

He introduced me to his pretty wife
   as the girl who pitched paper balls at his head.

*True story for Carol Brown’s “First Date” contest.  (Some folks were lucky to have 
more romantic first dates.  LOL)

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The storm gathered and the wind howled

Clouds were dark and ominous hinting of rain

He loved the rain and the wind

The branches swayed to their rhythm

He gathered sticks for the fire and the cold

The lights flickered as thunder cracked

There was nothing like a warm fire

And the limbs doing the cha cha

The fire wood was stacked by the door

He was a deepened romantic and the fire

He loved her most under the covers

He loved to show her his wood

She loved when he put it in the fire

That was what he missed most

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Some folks’ say all my life I’ve been a BLOCKHEAD.
Maybe if I could have gotten through that last ROADBLOCK,
news of my incarceration wouldn’t be such a family BLOCKBUSTER.
So here I sit all alone in my CELL BLOCK.
I’m suffering a bad case of WRITERS BLOCK,
without a clue the path my mind should take to UNBLOCK.
By the time I get out of here, I’ll need 100 spf SUNBLOCK.

For the BLOCK-BLOCK-BLOCK contest.

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Booger Eater

Enos Cooper is a booger eater,
he eats his own boogers every day.
When Enos gets drunk he eats other people’s boogers,
but when he wakes up the next day he never remembers
his booger eating escapades of the night before.
People tell him about his exploits, but Enos insists
that there is no way he would do such a thing, drunk or sober.
When he is shown photos of his booger eating forays,
Enos insists that the pictures have been photoshopped.
His booger chomping became so gross that the voters
in his district elected Enos “Nasty” Cooper to Congress.

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Lunchtime at the Nursing Home

Hungry for munchies, on his way to the lunchroom, 
a rambunctious, persnickety,“fuss-budget”, elderly
jittery, fidgety, geezer, named Cassidy…
whose questionable dexterity, aghast by a massive sneeze,
teeter-tottered precariously. 
at the edge of the thingamajig, ...jigging one way, jagging the other!

Minding his own beeswax, without any rigmarole, 
topsy-turvy on his feet, he reached for the balustrade,
became quite flabbergasted, and very discombobulated 
when the doohickey provided for his ambidextrous aid
jiggled free from its screws, and found him footloose! 

It seemed the doo-dad, put there by some nitpicking pipsqueak,
some flat-footed, hooligan, who knew diddly-squat, who obviously,
recklessly, constructed a railing, only worthy for failing!

Such foolhardy shenanigans! Was it some practical joke
to lambaste aged codgers, eliminate lodgers, and boondoggle the old folks? 
Cass, was an old rabble-rouser, considered a blabbermouth, 
was thrown off his epicenter, while his cane went a'sailing, appendages flailing 
Onlookers, were outraged, stage of amazement
but  laughs grew contagious, and cock-eyed hilarious!

Those carpetbagger carbuncles of society….can’t stop this old fogy
Cass, brushed off his hinny, would not be blind-sighted..
Barbaric bedevilment, won’t halt his felicity!
Some even predicted, with his acid tongue lashings, and his eccentric behavior,
he would stir up entanglement, kibosh the haranguers
and strangle the caboodles, who hooted and hollered!

His face turned beet red, but no meltdown,......instead
He held his chin high
to the dining room, ahead....he ordered French bread
Ordered some bouillabaisse, toasted with balderdash and a shot of rye
He dined with the multitudes, ordered some strudel, and one snicker-doodle
Then he told folks a riddle, "There was a man with a cane, who slipped on a noodle,    a handrail came loose, he injured his caboose….and cooked his goose!"


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A 16 year old apprentice 
Fresh to working underground
Miners telling tragic stories
Of bodies never found .
Greenbach was a huge man 
Working only in his boots and belt 
For every scar on his naked body 
He had a horror story to tell.
Each designed to give nightmares
To the apprentice as he slept
but the apprentice swore to avenge himself
and his promises he kept .

He noticed at lunchtime 
Greenbach dined alone 
For fifteen minutes every day 
He heard that snoring drone . 
This was the perfect time 
The apprentice made his plan 
Tomorrow Greenbach you are mine 
This Mountie will get his man .

That afternoon at the joke shop
He see's the Halloween masks in their rows
The apprentice finds a beauty 
With no eyes , No mouth , No nose.
A good handful of his mothers wool
Made a mop of bright red hair 
He's ready for the morning 
When greenbach takes his chair .

The buzzer on the tannoy 
Announced lunchtime had come 
The lads see him getting ready
and egg our apprentice on .
The 16 year old is nervous
but he turns his headlamp onto dim
Creeps up to the snoring Grrenbach
and sits down next to him .

Though only minutes it seems like hours
but the apprentice sits without a sound 
The lads hidden behind the timber
That is scattered all around.
First we heard the buzzer 
Then the scream as Greenbach ran 
Someone effing help me 
A bully became just another man .

Greenbach wasn't happy 
When he discovered what the apprentice had done
but that huge wobbling beer belly 
became the object of so much fun
Eventually the anger 
Would begin to slide 
but Greenbach now takes his lunch with his workmates
and sits with a man on either side.

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Follow The Winner

 Some folks always follow the winner 

 I didn't even have the courage 
To tell you how you made me feel 
Your laughter 
Your body language 
Way back then, 
A wall flower. 

you thought that I weren't good enough 
Undeveloped beauty 

Now, Virtuousness, 
I am blooming; 

People always follow the winner

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I Accepted the Potato Salad Because You Were Serving It

Yes, the time had allowed another opportunity to be near you,
Though well heaven knows whenever you are near my fear crunches my breath,
Leaving me starving for you, and wanting nothing more than to flee…

I stood in line, mainly because my family was there…
God knows I was not hungry at all…
Which is odd—I’m usually always hungry when I come to food gatherings
But there I was, my stomach swirling, and I looked out of the window,
And I saw you with the others, serving the food

My first thought was, great, here’s an opportunity,
And then the fear came—oh boy, what are you serving?
Are you serving something I like? 
Something I hate? 
So I closed my eyes and opened them again…
And I looked at what you were serving…
It was either macaroni salad, or potato salad; wasn’t quite sure at the time
I was more intrigued by how you presented yourself,
So friendly…so easy-going….so very natural and engaging

Damnit! The line is moving fast! 

I cringed at the thought of approaching you,
Even when I was following all the others;
And I knew you couldn’t be left insinuating-
Oh, that girl’s kinda weird and creepy…
I guess you’d only think that if I went to the table for the third time or something- 
But still, I was shaking with stupid thoughts

There was a problem though…
I do like macaroni salad… well, a little bit--I've never loved it
And I’m rather sick of potato salad frankly…
So if I refused the food, would you think it’s just another way to avoid contact?
Or will I give eye contact and smile at you, and say “no thank you”?
As I got closer, it was apparent it was potato salad…
And I begin to think
Well! Potato salad…it’s not that bad…let’s play it safe, shall we? Let’s get a little bit.

And before I knew it, I was where all the food was
You were talking speedily, happily with the others
About just everything it seemed… my ears heard blurs at this point
A lady offered me salad – I accepted the bowl and slowly put dressing on and looked up
And you smiled at me and said,
“Best potato salad in the world, right here.”
And I can’t remember if I smiled, 
But I most certainly lifted that stupid plate…
The lady next to you said, 
“and there’s another kind right beside it!”
I said quickly, “I think I’ll pass…” 
What she didn’t know was that I was trying to get the hell away before I vomited on everything and everyone...

I wasn’t hungry at all…
But one thing was certain…

I accepted the potato salad because you were serving it! 
And I ate it too… 
It wasn’t bad…in fact I could say pretty easily,
It was the best potato salad in the world

Right here….

You were… were….. right there.

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The Sad Truth About Life

Oh the horror! For people, it's just fun!

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 As he stood paper cup in hand by the drinking fountain on a train

 somewhere south of Kankakee, miles from Chicago,

 a quiet, pensive, older man was getting harangued by a loudmouthed, 

 blowsy, beer drinking, inconsiderate, disheveled and overweight woman.

 Aka, his wife.  

She finally shut her mouth after he exploded with,

“get your face out of mine, yo breath smells like

 you been eatin camel dookey for a week!” 

The laughter from the old men in the club car was deafening, 

so she just sat down and cried all the way to New Orleans.

This narrative for the comma contest is a childhood memory I observed riding the Illinois Central’s “City of New Orleans.” Circa 1955.

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The Wayward's Road

As I stumbled on the pebbled road 
I broke a toenail and it left bloodstains 
On the humble stones.

“Why did you let me get wounded,” I asked.
A voice from behind the obsequious hills answered,
“I did not,” the voice said reassuringly.
“I desired that you take the other road, but you didn’t listen.”

I trod on. Pained.
I searched for a band to stop the bleeding.
A long black thing lay on the grass.

“Why did you allow that devil bite me?” I cried.

“I did not,” the voice uttered.
“I sent an old man to give you a handkerchief 
for you to bind your broken nail but 
you said you weren’t crying.”

“Why can’t you just warn me at once?”

“I tried to.”

“You did? When?"

“I called you but you thought I was your girlfriend.”

Adjudged 8th Place in Destroyer~Poet's COLLABORATING IN THE CLOUDS Contest
June 20, 2012

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Wrote for Them Grammer Nazis Out Their

Wrote for Them Grammer Nazis Out Their

Bye Elton Camp

These are the principals that should guide you when checking anothers work:

Mistakes in spelling and grammer don’t except.

Alot of people have the allusion they know more then they do.

Always be already to correct any misteaks that you see.

It is all together wrong to let them go unchallenged.

Correct spelling is apart of writing that is essential.

Never give your ascent to ignoring proper grammer.

Every sentence must start with a capitol letter.

Its always best to end a sentence with a period

Site the writer as soon as you sight one on his cite.

Be fair and complement writers who do well.

Its important to give good council to young writers.

Kind correction will illicit the best reaction.

Online writers should expect there work to be criticized when put out they’re.

Acheive good spelling by using the rule "I before E accept after C are when it sounds like A as in nieghbor and wait."

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A goodnight kiss ,
To d dawn of day  So  sunny,
Missing the sunny posture,
Calling it smiling osmosis,
Yay smiles I uphold from within,
Even wen heat of. The  sun can b  So   annoying,
They call it vitamin A,
Whichever letter its beta,
I meet friends @ d long run,
Although I was indoor alone,
Waiting for d nightfall to show,
Thinking  to b a man of my  own,
Its hard. 2b although,
Its was a good day if you followed,
D roles of words without rhyming tones,
Few touches you  know,
Beautiful faces ve meet in sonorous voices,
Call it d phone conversations,
I know you know,
Goodnight kisses to friends who contributed,
Call it a rehash of insanity,
Who cares that's  an entity,
Without empty credibility,
Night kisses to enemies not friends,
Call d previous an irony!
You re rite chum,
Smiling luv kisses,
To our night sleep,
We all sleep like babies,

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Poke Her

They agreed to go to their favorite hangout and cigars.

Once they were seated the waiter said that the restaurant had a deal on Italian wine.

In the beginning  it was easy, turn the cold shoulder for a few days.

And that was followed by fantastic sex.

He loved to poker her and she carried her part.

But the children came and it was much harder.

They had a full house and the meanness .

The thing that bothered her most was his control issues.

And he believed he ruled over the family like a king.

She always peeked at his hands when they fought.

Whenever he was angry he would clench and unclench his hands.

He knew the relationship was over and he should have folded.

She wanted to lay all her cards  on the table.

She had tried hard but when angry her face would get flushed.

They would rake in each others defects and the love died.

The high road was never straight and neither took.

He would raise past issues that were long dead and forget the progress..

He thought he was a stud  but the children were his weakness.

He wanted to holdem but she wanted their best.

All she wanted was for him to ante up in the marriage.

They were both bluffing and the love weakened.

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Well Said My Poetically Challenged Friend

Well said, my poetically challenged friend... 

Your insight is deep and telling of your sage, 
Even if I can not understand your poetic wage, 

Tell us more of your triumphs and travels, 
And don't leave out the blotter and gavels, 

For it is your frailty which entices, 
The calling of the soul, 
And unlocking of the mind... 

For when we read of your glorious battle, 
And become the fodder of which you prattle, 

Remember that these are the days, 
We relished the great dreams you gave, 

Soon you will be left to your own devices, 
Karma so apropos, 
Balancing over time... 

Then with great pride I will be able to say, 
That I once met a poet untamed,

A free verse poet like you who has belched, 
With nonconforming musings, true and heartfelt, 

Oh what great cost the poets price is, 
Always watching yet always alone, 
All to capture truth sublime, 

Again well said, my poetically challenged friend!

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How to Burn a Field

(Good Advice Spurned)

Grandmother packed a picnic lunch.
Brother, sister, and I, with two uncles
traipsed into the woods,
in search of adventure.

We found it.
We ate our picnic lunch, sitting 
on a fallen tree, spanning the creek.

We sampled “Rabbit Ice,” formed 
on weeds, hugging the stems
in smooth, thin white curls.
We drank creek water in cupped hands,
so cold, we shivered.

“Let’s build a fire,” my brother said.
Uncle Larry cautioned, “You’d better not. 
You’ll set the field on fire.”
We built the fire,
warmed our cold hands.

As the circle of fire began to spread,
we beat it with branches,
water carried from the creek in our hats. 
Undaunted, the fire ate up the dry grass,
spreading like a pond ripple
from a rock thrown in.

Uncle Larry refused to join
our efforts to ‘beat out’ the fire.
He stood, callously laughing
at our futile efforts.
The entire field burned.

We worried all afternoon.
What would Granddad say,
when he saw the black field
from the kitchen window?

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A Spanking Good Tale

A spanking good tale I read a blog -was it only yesterday I haven’t laughed so much, I can truly say About large women and I will not make fun That’s because I am turning into one But the blog that I read proved there is hope for all As long as we can make sausages, if I recall A massage or two with a pin rolling flat Is it to iron out wrinkles or reduce the fat? A spank a day or so I have heard Is what middle age men like, but girls think absurd A front bum, well that’s a new one on me I have enough in the rear to perhaps make up three But what gives me hope, apart from the front bum thing Is that some men out there seem to enjoy this sort of thing So send me you dreams followed by your numbers too I’ll put them aside for when I’m ready for you So thank you Chris for your blog yesterday You have given hope to all women and that’s all I can say
Inspired By Chris D Aechner's Blog 15/02/2012

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Katie's Kitchen Critters

     The kitchen cupboard clamps closed incorrectly.
Katie concluded it was a continual cause of consternation, 
cause rats raised a ruckus by creeping into Katie’s cupboards 
to crunch cookie crumbs!
    “Crap!.” cried Katie. 
     Wrath, waxing her weary and her taxed temper turning teary, 
she resolved to be rid of the ridiculous roving rats.
     Clearly, Katie’s cats couldn't catch the creepy raucous rodents! 
So she resolved to revert to a relatively reliable recourse. 
     She contentedly kissed her cute cuddly cats and triggered 
traps for the wretched repulsive rats.
      The dastardly deed done; contented Katie concluded, 
“this lass learned a large, likely lesson :
“ ‘Tis better to trigger traps for running roving rats, 
than to count on cute, cuddly, contented cats.”

                             The End  : )

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They Had the Wright Idea

Look how far we've come! What would have taken months of perilous voyage now just takes hours of mundane leisure. At your fingertips lies countless options of entertainment: music, movies, games.

But looking out the window I can't help but bob my head to ELO's Mr. Blue Sky (why indeed did you hide away so long, Mr. Blue?). Wouldn't it be hilarious if my flight neighbor woke up and saw my Jay-Leno-esque head and NO ear buds? Each time I notice her stretching out her arms I wonder; is she yawning or reaching for the call button? "Yes, ma'am, there's a horribly spastic man sitting next to me. Could you kindly ask him to stop or at least transfer him to another seat?". Wouldn't that be something? It's not all that unlikely though. I'm surprised they don't boot me off right now. "And we at Delta would like to wish you a very safe and pleasant swim! Coffee or tea?".

Sure would save time just wearing a giant button that said that. It'd also give those poor girl's facial muscles a break. Just HOW many hours are spent wearing that plastered on smile?

Originally the Wright Brothers experimented with the idea of flying, simply for convenient's sake, and relentless human curiosity. Imagine if I were to trade places with one of them right now. I wonder what he'd think of the lady, near the front, indulging in a ginger ale. "Well at least they have good drinks on this flight!". It's hard to fathom what Mr. Wright might say...

NOTE: This came to me while on my flight back to the states...

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'Altered Needs'

He was all fired up he had it all figured out this was it, the end of us "I need my space" or so he thought until she entered the room dressed totally different to what is “her norm” a black dress with high heels legs that go on forever, he almost walked into the bathroom door mouth hanging open "Err did you go to work like that?" he asked “Yep of cause I did, I always do,"was her reply Uhm, it's the first time I see you dressed like that Nonchalantly while getting rid of her clothes she replied, “Well now if you more at home and less "at work" You’ll see me more in my work attire then in my pajamas” Gawking at her scanty underwear, He saw her swing her hips as she left the room Confucius Joe was left behind, feeling less desperate for space and more a need for closeness

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Four palms, one taller, the other three measure the same.
Heavily anchored in sand, all are vertical climbers of this azure sky.
Eight new fronds per palm, the older ones neatly trimmed by man.
No cocoanuts anywhere to be seen, their hazard great, if allowed to fall.
Growing 40-50 feet tall, how many savage storms have they endured?
Lying on my back, I hear the unseen breezes giving voice to their action
as they manipulate the individual finger like fronds into undulating waves.
In the far and nearly vertical distance I see a moon in half-phase.
This reflection of the sun bisecting the geometry of the moon
made possible by none other than the very planet I lay upon.
One lonely cloud of no consequence is viewable. The pristine nature
of it all now rudely shattered by an absurdity. “Dusk to Dawn” barnyard lights
are lag bolted onto two palms. How incongruous this fit of barnyard lights
affixed to a palm in this tropical paradise.
Suddenly, the whispering of the tropical breeze is interrupted
by the staccato, whump, whump, whumping of a helicopter, all black and shiny.
Streaking parallel to the shore mimicking a news channel
coverage of a Bronco chase or the latest freeway jam. Now comes
the cacophony of a loudspeaker, calling out it’s “Bingo Time” for
the bored and soul-less, as it reverberates toward the beach from poolside.
The rhythmical lapsing of the waves on the shore is drowned out
by high-pitched adrenalin fed screams and twin 200 horse outboard exhausts.
A parasailer from Des Moines has caught the wind and traverses the sky.
Strapped in a chest harness while dangling precariously attached to multicolored bands of 
nylon, he is praying the towrope doesn’t break.
My total sublimation again obliterated, this time by two nudists from Europe.
Heavy oiling barely covers her lack of cups and his cajones are swinging free.
Nuts and knockers that haven’t seen the sun for eons will certainly
ache for emollient caresses tonight. Those mental images will play in my mind
like a never-ending mobious strip of hilarity, for which there is no end.
Traveling thousands of miles from the cold weather and slush.
I was allowed only one minute of solitude before nuts, knockers,
loudspeakers and barnyard lights rudely jerked me back to this reality.
Corrupting civilization is just a split second behind us. Ever ready to bury us,
should we but pause to admire natures’ beauty in a remote destination!

*Vacation thoughts garnered in Punta Cana.

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Gena The Geep

My name is Gena and I am an awesome geep.
Papa is Handsome Hank the tough old billy goat.
Mama is Curvy CeCe the lovely ewe sheep.
If I say so myself, I am a very gorgeous geep.
Every young billy goat bleats and every young ram sheep baas
their desire to top my firm rounded behind time after time.
All of the farm boys in the county fight over who will next milk
my gianormous voluptuous teets. Humans, they are so easy.
I draw the line at Dominic Donkey though, he is a real jackass.
I do love to tease Max Mule, the sterile old fool can’t even get it up.
I will only be young once and I intend to enjoy every minute of it.
Lust is my middle name. Love is my claim to fame. I am the queen.

For Animals Alive Contest  07/15/2014

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The Midnight Madame

Honey Glaze Bun
A herd of hoof ran across her back
 Her mind drifting into slumber
Her midnights rendezvous became dangerous acts 
while the itinerant
Slept in every alley on Delaney Street

An exhausted prosecutor 
Release her back to the cruelty of the dark street
Where broken lamps on 
The Great White Way generates
Little or no heat
And the deafening sound of the siren
Kept her awake
Until the blonde blue eye stranger pulled up
In a dark limousine rolled down the window
 And whispered
“Hello honey bun
Come on in 
Your place or mine
Let’s be discreet.

Half a mile down the dark road
The hooded stranger
Poetry became a reality
An old Shakespearean

Let not my love be called idolatry,


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Office of the Vice Poem

The Vice Poem shall serve,
without regard to need
or time of day,
being in line of succession,
should the Poem be 
unable to fulfill its ditty

The Vice Poem will be 
required to preside 
over the sonnet
and break any ties
that come upon it

As is customary,
the Vice Poem shall be
required once a term
to debate the opposition
on the respective merits
of poetry versus prose

The Vice Poem shall
be sent, on a moments notice
to travel wide and far
to deliver the eulogy
for dead, leading authors,
and to do so with euphony

The Vice Poem can
anticipate being the object
of scorn and ridicule
from the wider citizenry
regarding the merits of 
being a second rate poem 
while anticipating to
someday achieve eloquence

© Goode Guy 2013-01-21

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i was just a kid the first time i met him
he borrowed my brand new wrist-rocket
and scampered off into the night, laughing like a ghoul
the sound of two young lovers on a beach, punctuated by howls of pain
the returning of footfalls and mad laughter
he had his fun, now it was time to party

i had no way of knowing this crazy man was to be in my life for many years to come
i had no way of knowing he would help shape who i was to become
he drug us from the beaches of Oregon to the deltas and forests of California
forever altering the path i strode upon

once, he had me and his son dig a 6X6 pit and bury him up to his neck
pre-emptive of him "Nutting up".
we fed him beer and fritos at his request... we unburied him after he came down
There are stories to be told that i cannot tell here.... but alive and fertile in my memories.
one day i will see him again and ask permission to tell some....
But it won't matter..... you wouldn't believe them anyway!!!!!

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Lewd Octopi

While scuba diving I spotted a couple of octopi.
They were right in the midst of doing the nasty.
I immediately got the hell out of the water.
A guy was sitting there on the beach.
I told him about the two octopuses.
The old fart was a very learned professor.
He smugly informed me rather sternly
that the correct terminology was octopods.
I threw the well educated smartass into the water,
to my surprise he couldn’t swim and almost drown.
A quick thinking lifeguard jumped in and saved his sorry butt.
Some nosy busybody called the local constabulary
and I ended up spending a week in the local hoosegow.
That, good people, is my roundabout way of telling you
that my long time in coming vacation really sucked.

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Not Needing a Meeting, Daily 31

Some work day mornings just fill with sour time.
The evenness of the florescent lights is annoying
I see all the familiar faces hating every moment along with me.
A department meeting, how horrifying.

The common voices outlining choices--that have nothing to do with you
Blacken and blue, I must stomach this painful gathering of shrews 
A pressured push in the brain
To not let this  poison my day
I rely on pleasant memories to carry me away:
The last cherished talk, the phone message from a friend.
I really can’t wait for this meeting to end.

Now my agitation has been noticed.
I am not paying attention--thinking about folly and Ben.
The expression on my face shows rejection
Can she see my recollection of the last time we met?
Crap now I am found out; she must be judging what my whole life is about.

Turn toward her stare, show sincerity and care
Easy now tiger-- and smile--give the moment awhile.
Save face, my Japanese ancestors would say.
I am disciplined, this is work--not time to play.
Don’t let distraction make you her prey.

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Momma's Fancy Laced Boots

    Momma went trappin' till noon,
fer Ring Neck Ducks ~ en gone fishin',
        also trappin’ fat coon…
so she was a dragin' er ole’ berlap
full - of game, as well, 'like money in…
'er til' ~ by thee light, of ay full moon...

     Seven siblings doin' chores causin'...
       Momma needed money so soon,
    Grandpa en a Pop'a were a knockin'
   down all those logs - for Coors, quickly

    Momma chasin' chickens, while rescelin'...
in there pen, en a sloppin' with all them hogs,
why she was buzy a slippin' en a slidein'...
into a sink hole, an a trippin' over pa’ pa's logs,
frogs were a jumpin', an a hopin'
   right through her hands...

    While Grandpa was a brewin',
good ale, a good tale fer Kentucky mash...
fer what she longed fer sure,
Momma ney're could save 'er cent of cash,
ner're enough mash-ale fer er dough, unerring
though ~ down to her country-store...

  She went one misty ~ foggy mornin'...
into one of her swamp boats, all traps
all bottle ale, so Momma went a paddlin'...
           certain, per'aps
fer her new pair, so needin’ of them
   ere fancy laced ~ Combat Boots

   “Now remember to call your Mom too”

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Getting Old

As I sense the daylight strut through my mind,
I open my Squint's just enough to find,
one more day on this circle called Earth.
only 20,125 since the day of my birth.

I pull myself up with creaks and groans,
not stopping once until I've reached my thrown.
Start, Stop, Start, Stop life has played a trick it seems,
making this function that should be simple,
most difficult for me.

My friends all tell me age is just a number,
and I couldn't agree more.
20,126 and counting as my feet hit the floor.
Start, Stop, Start, Stop prostate exam on the 5th,
why, this growing old isn't all that hard as I take one more barium sip.

The hair is diminishing on the top of my head,
but growing in my ears someone once said.
The wrinkles on my for head that once never showed, 
20,127 just a roadmap to go.

It use to be my youth was free, careless, casual, and wild.
now in my old age I'm sorry to say;  I 'm out dated, out witted and out styled.
so to be apart of the elderly,
you have to be a bit bold.
just get use to the fact for the rest of your life,
you'll always be getting old.

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If I hadn’t seen the speckled splash
                                     hadn’t heard the cry -
     a forlorn sound
     reaching out to distance -
I wouldn’t have this shivered-thought

Yet?    The joke’s on me
The gull
A bird for all seasons
Loves to trigger imagination
He’ll shriek at wedding or wake alike
He’s just hungry

But I wish to hell
     on this gray    late December day
         with ball descending
He’d drop his load on someone else 

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A Word From Gonzo

Atlantic city had been a haze of slot machines and watred down drinks and loud nightclubs
that often  remendedme what disney land  could have been ifthatdam mouse wasntallowed 
to take over.

Never trust a talking rat.
 I had to go through a hellof a divorce because of it.
Good thing her brother was a lawyer cause  I might have
actully had something left oh well things are overrated like indoor living.
it's hell gettinga good internet connection in a tent.

But enough  time traveling  i had more important issues at hand
like my return and some unpaid parking tickets and that whole 
court case nonsense your place of business  burns down for the fifth time
and people all wanna  get uptight  hey i preffer to moron my lose 
in a casino they said i shoudnt be alone so  im just taking doctors orders.

But i had a deadline and it was almost happy hour the library was gonna be packed.
The subject   true art and  cenorship.
The world around us is totatl chaos so how could you restrict how people expressed 

Heaven forbid little tommy reads a bad word 
while him and and his best friend huff paint  
dear jesus man and i hope they dont play a violent video game.
Sure susan  go  have random sex with guys of fthe internet 
but dont read no cuss word on a poetry wed site 
you just might drop dead where you stand.

Its kinda like running a asylum and pretending that everyone there
isnt totally nuts.
No sir lets ignore the real world cause lord knows people 
cant filp on the tv   and see murder rape fires and war ya gotta 
love kids programing.

You cant restrict art for if it"s all the same cookie cutter stuff.
Then is it truley art or just a pretty dellusion.
Ignore the world and it'll run you over.

Life good bad  traggic is ment to be shared 
the secrets of the soul can rattle in that closet till 
madness breaks that perfect image we put.
but what I know.

Never restrict your mind for you will sufficate the soul.
stay proud and crazy forever 
Dr Gonzo

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Racial Discrimination

"Do you know such a work place
with racial discrimination?"
Asked some homo sapiens  friends
who aren't so tall but with fair complexion.

By the way, you can make a guess,
if it is in your local place.
Maybe here, maybe there,
or perhaps abroad or somewhere else.

For this is an absolute experience,
for some who migrate in other places,
When it comes to work payment,
their compensation isn't that worth and fair.

Many are also asking questions,
like those with more responsibilities and work load.
"Why those workers with less but receive more?
Is it because of their color?"

However, "Yes" is isn't the answer,
especially that black and white are paid higher.
Then, they continue to wonder,
and make other presumptions on this matter.

"Aha! The sharpness of the nose maybe 
and not either based on work load or one's ability."
So, they think their presumption will come more precisely
to the fact or to the reality?

But, they thought they need not to waste their money
to plan with the doctor for a surgery.
Because if they do and they're getting low salary,
their employer may think they came from a well-to-do family.

It's really hard for them to think
what is the real gauge and basis.
"Is it the height or color of skin?
Aha! It's the color of the hair, they concluded finally.

So, those poor homo sapiens  friends
went to beauty parlor in nearby places.
They asked the beautician for help
and colored their hair brown, red, blond and some were golden.

After all of what they did, nothing had happened
because their reward from their effort and work is still the same.
So, they just kept calm and never  ever whine again,
realizing that racial discrimination really exists.

Hence, they work harder instead
and never ever I  heard their complains.
However, one of them had mention then
that they'll get more reward if they work  for God in Heaven.

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Great Grandma Kicked some Butt

When my mother was at the age of thirteen,
A dirty old man asked her to come clean,
He invited her over so she could make a few bucks
When she arrived he was in a black tucks
He was the neighbor across the street,
His wife was at work and he viewed my mom as weak
This man locked the door when my mother arrived,
Went to go kiss her, to feed his sick drive,
My mom ran out the back door and went across the street,
Little did this man know he was in for a “delightful treat!”
My great grandma lived six towns away
My mother called her in a state of panic and disarray
A forty minute drive, granny made it in fifteen
Granny drove her old ford like a race car machine
When she arrived, she kicked that man’s door down
She did not care if anyone was around
That man jumped up by that loud sound
She hit him so hard he fell right on the ground
She slapped him around with her left shoe
Cursed him out in Italian, while threatening him too
Later that night my mother’s dad came home
He is a little man with a loud groan
He heard the story and went across the way
Took his shot gun and made this man pay
Told him if he ever touched his daughter again,
He would shoot off his little “private friend,”
He made this man cry in his own living room,
But I promise you this man never again tried to consume,
Every little girl on that street,
He knew not to look at or he would get severally beat,
My family has many stories of my Great Granny saving the day,
Never mess with an Italians family, they handle things in their own special way.

By:Sabina Nicole

      Every family has stories that get past down from one generation to the next. I was blessed to have had my mother’s grandparents until about 6 years ago. They did not speak any English and my great granny was a crazy awesome woman. She grew up on a farm in Italy and had to do a lot on her own. She raised all the children and grandchildren but was old school about a lot of stuff.  I remember my great grandparents fighting with each other even in the nursing home. They were married for 58 years; they shared a room in the nursing home that had two separate beds. My great grandma use to hit my great grandpa with her cane from across the bedroom. It was funny to watch.  They may have fought but they loved each other so much, my great grandma died 6 years ago and less than a year later my great grandpa died too. Now they are in heaven together, I don’t think there’s fighting in heaven, God don't allow that;)

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The unforgettable rant from a drunk Lady contest

It is five minutes to two
I don’t know what to do
It looks like I'm the last person this evening before you close
But can I have another, and possibly a minute to expose
You must get this often you’re really sweet
Cute as a button, to bad I don’t cheat
You see I am procrastinating to get back to my house
I live with a man; no he is not my spouse
Five long years, do you care that I share
Oh hun, watch out a flies in your hair
But seriously, it’s bad; we fight all the time
I haven’t the courage to tell him I am sick of his kind
Do you have a woman? oh you must you’re so cute
So what do you think should I give him the boot?
Oh and work is getting to me, my boss in always on my case
Sir what’s your name again? you have a mighty fine face
Can I get one more? that will be all
Good thing I live down the block in case I trip and fall
Can I give you some advice; you should finish your degree
You don’t belong here at this hour serving me
Last year I went away, when I got back I caught him cheating
I gave this guy one serious beating
Oh look it is raining
Am I complaining?
I know it’s time to move on
But it’s hard when someone is finally gone
Do you work every night?
Could you lower the lights?
I am getting a headache
Last night I went to a wake
It was my Coworkers sons, girlfriends, Aunt,
I am sorry did I just go on a rant?
What are you doing after work?
You must think I am a jerk
OH NO here come the tears!!!
Sir, it’s been so many painful years,
Why can’t I just leave him?
What is wrong with me?
can I get just one more, my glass is empty,
Wait, what are you doing?
Is that coffee I smell brewing?
Are you shutting the bar down?
I see no one is around in this town,
OH no I just dropped the glass on the ground
Boy!!! that made a really loud sound
Let me pick that up
I’ll buy you a new cup
That’s all I seem to do, clean and cook,
I deserve better right? I read it in Dr.Phil's new book,
Sir, where are you going?
Did you tell me your name?
OH I don’t feel well, can I puke in your drain?
Much better, oops sorry, I made a mess
This was a new dress,
Thanks for listening,
Did I tell you you’re cute?
I bet you make a tone of loot
My man has no job
and he wonders why I'm a bitter snob
Ok Im leaving, its late my new friend,
what did you say your name was again?
I want your number, Let me get a pen
Oh no my purse fell all over the floor
Sir Sir, did you just slam the door?

“I am not a sir, I am a Woman, and you need to Go the hell Home!!! ”

wriiten 10/21/11

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My Christmas Gun

I take the gun and place the cold barrel  to my temple.

I have to free myself and hand shaking.

I don't deserve this.

Am I selfish feeling this and head pounding.

I take a chance and cry out to GOD.

Please, If you care and those selfish people laughing.

Help me.

What's so funny?

You disgust me with your smiles .

Suddenly I once again withdraw the gun from my head.

And taking a cigarette and lighting it and crying.

Hate is to kind for you.

Bitterly the wind has blown and your still smiling.

It's blown away but leaves me your laughter.

As I pace and trample that smile with cold fury.

The Postman delivers your Christmas card and I unwrap you.

What is this?

Its our story and I start at the end.

I know that part of your gift.

Its fresh and my wound needs salt so I can breathe.

But reading back I see us when it was laughter.

To the moment I linked my soul to you and hitched a ride.

And looking down I see that gun.

What is it doing in my lap and God smiles.

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Tall Aunt Euvela Made biscuits for our dinner It was requested of the crowd How many biscuits are required? My daddy said, "I always eat two." Uncle Troy said, " You won't eat two of Euvela's." When dinner was eaten, All the dishes washed. Uncle Troy said," Morgan, two you stopped short of." Daddy said, "Troy, you was right those biscuits were as big as plate." He continued, "No one could eat two of Euvela's biscuits." That woman had those big hands with long fingers to match her six foot height..

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As I wait for death amid the calm.

I see through the window all of you.

No one can see me and the hearing is dying.

Ring in the New Year and my limbs reach for the warm.

Help me make one last stand.

I love the rain and your food for thought.

I wait patient , youthful and my sap stretched.

I long for your cool breeze and like a dog I bark in warning.

And as the axe falls I shudder and am diminished.

That door slammed angrily and while I wait the rain washes me.

No longer do I feel my age, I see your reflection and your sadness.

And as I slowly die I am placed on the stretcher and  I drink my last drop.

But as I lay quivering.

You bathe and place me at the door.

I am no longer naked as you dress me.

A light blinks on and the glitter and charm works.

The clothing is your finest saved by generations and my  balls are hung. 

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Wobbling to Mount Everest

Grumbling,rumbling and Wobbling my pen moves on the white paper,staggering as it strides onthe line Gush!it belches as horrible sound comes out from its tip,the lines are blur and twinkle stars appear.I am drunk No!not me its my pen,different thoughts flow into the mind beclouded by mundane things repelled by celestial beings Why!why am I here grumbling;I need to write to my glover or lover to join me in this journey to the peak of mount Everest where I`m at the top of my write,did I say write,Oh no!right yes!right now,Think of singing lovely vibes to your sweet g~~lover on the top of the tower with all your power for her to pick a drawer,Yes a drawer Stop interrupting pen...Am I confusing you no! not me it`s my drunken pen Not drunk just being funky eventhough I`m not pinky,My pen sip~sip more brandy so as to be more randy and not candyd.....avalanche of words pouring like tsunami hurricane and tornado Enough! enough I need to be free from this possessive pen spirit~of  al~~co~~hol~~Blank~~blank~~blank...Black out~~back down...P~O~a~r~~inks spreading all over my paper Oh no!stench,stench of vomits~What a quagmire

CONTEST:"Drink drunken pen drink!!!" sponsored by Elliott Bowe

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Hoot's Toot

There once was a little Jack Russell
who was as sweet as she was cute
and went by the nicname of hoot.

Now in the evening the
family would gather 
to spend family time together.
Everyone including Hoot was there.

Me on the couch
the kids on the floor
and dad in his favorite chair.

As we sat there a smell most foul
quickly filled the air.

It seems our sweet little hoot
had let loose with a toot
and now we are all fighting for air.

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Midst the mulga and the gidyea out beyond the old Paroo 
runs a road which leads to Yowah and a great place it is too. 
Where the populace is smitten by an urge they can’t withstand: 
Its the lust to find the queen of gems, beneath a timeless land. 
With her tantalising beauty and her taunting, twinkling eyes, 
Its the radiance of this desert child her lovers highly prize. 
Suitors come from every walk of life, from countries quite diverse 
and she keeps them courting tirelessly exacting quite a purse. 
And the charm of her charisma casts a spell they can’t escape, 
so they’ve built a little township there amid that red landscape. 
Quite relentless is their quest to toil,  a constant ritual, 
and they love their leisure moments like their Opal Festival. 
Chris and I were asked to join them and present our bush verse show 
through the festival proceedings and replied, “We’d love to go.” 
First we entertained the children at the school there for a spell 
then our host, Gwen Burney, took us for a tour that went down well. 
We were shown the local opal fields and dug for Yowah nuts, 
then we lunched and watched some golfers sink some rather dubious putts. 
But the opal bug had bitten and we sought a licence out, 
for we planned to do some noodling or at least just poke about. 
But the torture of the digging with just handpicks proved too tough 
and we chucked the towel in quickly as we’d simply had enough. 
Down in spirits we decided to search out the mulberry wine 
there at Roy’s, not far from Gwen’s place, which was said to be real fine. 
After scoffing down a sample we were feeling mighty good 
and old Roy was sympathetic to our plight and understood. 
He produced a bar and shovel and a bottle of his brew, 
then we headed back to noodle with our outlook all anew. 

Well we dug and sipped and dug and sipped, oblivious to pain 
and the next two days we carried on and did it all again. 
We were up each morning early and sat cracking all our nuts, 
though our hands were full of blisters and a mass of little cuts.  
We were both now surely smitten and could not resist her will, 
for the bug had surely bitten and we talk about it still. 
Yes, its tantalizing colour and its taunting texture’s fine   
and we’re flamin' well addicted to Roy’s home-made mulberry wine. 

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Ten Brothers

Beneath a flag of red and white
A soldier quietly lies,
His mother sits just to his right
Tears falling from her eyes.

Brothers lie all laid in rows
Around his final bed,
A cross for each one shows
Their names above their heads.

Seven more stand by his side
With rifles standing tall,
Dressed in honor, feeling pride
For this brother who gave all.

One more stands by his feet
A bugle in his hand,
Plays that melody so sweet
Of taps now for this man.

Two more now step up to fold
Old Glory from her pall,
And place it in Mom's hand to hold
A present from us all.

Ten brothers stand by this man's grave
With respect in just suffice,
For this soldier who proudly gave
His life for freedom's price.

Ten brothers came to send him on
To take his final station,
But thousands more sit at home
Giving thanks with the entire nation.

Somewhere, lying overseas
The man who took this life,
Ten buzzards now has he
Giving thanks at his grave site!

                          Timothy I. Brumley

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Mon ami Fred

I once had a friend in College,
who was a young man named Fred.
He had a funny crazy habit,
of making certain utterances in French,
to pretty girls he hoped to conquer.
One day he met his match in a lady,
who disgraced him without intention.
On that day, he walked up to the lady,
'Bonjour mademoiselle he greeted'
The lady was so happy,
 'here now is a brother,
qui parle Francais beaucoup' she thought.
She answered him with an alluring smile,
Ah, bonjour monsieur, je suis content
que vous parliez Francais
Mon ami was now in a hot soup,
when he knew the lady was no novice,
in what he knew nothing of any use.
The lady rattled on like a parrot,
and asked my friend 1001 questions.
My friend was only smiling like an idiot,
in front of the lady he thought of conquering
I had an ache from series of laughter,
as I watched the unfolding drama of a rascal
who wanted to use what he never had,
to make a fool of some of his fellow men.

10th August, '12

Mon ami-- my friend (male)
Bonjour mademoiselle/monsieur---- good morning Miss/Mr
qui parle Francais beaucoup -----who speaks French very much
Je suis content que vous parliez Francais-- I am happy that you speak French

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© Goode Guy 2012-12-02

Details | Narrative | |

What's Fair

Who decides what's fair?
I dunno - but I can sure
Tell you what's 

Putting out costumed morsels
On Halloween night
And having their parents or other large beasts accompany them
Some of the large ones carry mace
The worst ones
Carry wooden stakes

Tasty-looking tots go from door to door
Trusting in the kindness of strangers
Who will give them candy
And toys

But not ONE will come
Into my parlor
Willingly or not

I've had a few tugs of war
Over several treats
Who tend to scream
And somebody big always
Comes to their rescue

Then they go away
WIth all their TREATS

Whilst I remain here

Now THAT'S not fair!

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She didn’t say no                   exactly
But    I couldn’t catch her eye
She surveyed the ground
Danced                  swayed
Looked ALL around
Looked FAR off – clear through the red brick of
                               Old Main Science Hall
Wrinkles of invention shown
                                        a certain element of surprise
Her “High!” had been distantly friendly          BUT!
         With a definite hint of a hasty

Now I was sorry I asked
Just a moment of daring
She was SO popular
And I?
The school nerd

Oh, NOW to be invisible     instead of mentally prostrate
     before the Queen of Sheba 

This isn’t a true story. I never had that much courage.

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Station IMAG Reporting Live

The following statements 
are figments of your imagination,
if it were not so, we would of course
steer you in the correct direction
to correct your lack of invisible
imaginary eye sight.

This message is brought to you
by the imaginary invisible station  
I.M.A.G which is broadcast from
the mind of Silly Me…to ….you.
Our motto is:  Invisible Imagination
cannot be seen with unimaginative
invisible eyes.”
We pride ourselves on living up 
to our motto !!

I.M.A.G is dedicated to the theory
that all imagened things not possible are 
always possible when invisible 
but can only be seen
in the imagination should there
possibly be one to find and should
you actually be able to see it if
it was actually there.

What you think you are reading 
is simply a trick your eyes are playing
on your mind.  We pride ourselves
on being able to accomplish this feat 
so easily.  There is actually no page 
with words on it before you at this time.
Your screen is simply a blank blue
field of blue or green or whatever
our broadcast audience has deems
soothing to the invisible eye. 

Our station is devoted to remaining
“Green”.  Because we use neither
paper, nor ink, we feel we have met
the burden of always remaining 
environmentally conscience.
We will of course get a major 
tax credit for our imaginary 

Should I.M.A.G need to test its 
broadcasting station or send out
an early response warning, we will
of course use our environmentally 
friendly invisible ink for all to imagine
they are able to see and read.

Thank you for tuning in to this
invisibility statement.   If you 
have failed to see its unimaginable
invisible possibility message, 
we sincerely apologize.
We cannot be held liable for your
lack of invisible imagination.

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Curry. Cumin. Saffron.
Mmmm, the hallways always smell of spice,
her seventy-year-old body perfecting the rhythm of movement
from icebox to oven in her efficiency kitchenette.
Tangerine wall paint cracks and mixes carelessly 
with bits of spice yet lingering in the air; it
follows her, this aroma that eats the eater, 
dancing around her skirts
like faeries honoring their faerie queen.
She knows this, and smiles at the sliver of sun peeking through her window.

Down the corridor
people begin their ritual of recognition, then sniffing,
and finally a smile that reveals anticipation. 
No one goes hungry inside Apartment A6 and everyone has seconds.  
Lunch and dinner, breakfast too 
if a body is moving about as dawn surfaces. 
Though small, her main floor seems to expand
beyond the boundaries of walls,
everyone cross-legged and eager to devour dishes 
few could pronounce and none could forget.

A legend among the two hundred desperate palates;
today, however, souls wander lost through the hallways 
because the lucky have snaked their way into heaven
and left the masses to a barren, tasteless fate.
As the onions, okra and potatoes, flavored
with a hint of saffron and even less ginger,
entice bodies five deep and ten across,
our greedy fingers and mouths offer no thoughts of others
going without while dripping sauce falls onto our legs
and Berndi seems content with the pleasure she’s wrought.

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Horses have more fun than we do,

they get to go to bed with their shoes on!

So there!

Contest: Twenty/Twenty 
by Ralph Taylor

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The Poop of Life

THE POOP OF LIFE The poop word is a replacement For the other four letter word You know the one that means poop The one you have most likely heard There is a lot of poop in our life That is really like our body poop Both are really a necessity for living Let me give you the comparison scoop The type of food taken in your body Or what is fed into your life for you Will certainly determine precisely What type of poop you’re getting in to If you let the poop get all built up You tend to want to push and strain In hopes to hurry and force it out That can only cause cramps and pain Slow down and take a deep breath It really is always best to just relax The more you try to lighten up yourself The easier it will be for the poop to pass It’s time to worry if you have no poop Or if you just can’t get that poop out Keep it fresh and make room for more It feels great when it is all cleaned out A stall full of poop has the best worker As Proverbs 14:4 suggestively does say So a good worker does poop a lot Please don’t let it pile up for days No one wants to step in your poop Or even wants to see it for that matter We need to clean up our own poop Every little particle or a tiny splatter It is important to remember To always wipe twice It’s like double checking And it’s really the best advice If the same old poop is left Just every where lying around It only attracts the flies and scum Those pests from every part of town At times there may be a lot Of just stinky hot air Then sometimes you get The real poop coming there There are many different types Of shapes, sizes and textures With the daily poop we’re given The variety of life is measured I could probably go on and on Even you may think of more, I know So I’ll leave you with this one last note Try not to get caught in deep poop though Florence McMillian (Flo)

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The Turkey's Revenge

“Oh my, the weather out is real nice!” Said the Papa Turkey.
“Hey Mrs. Gobbler get the kids. Lets go for a nice Fall stroll.”
“Line up now. Listen to your Ma.”
The rafter of little poults wobbles by like Russian stacking dolls.
The gaggle gobble around the apple orchard,
pecking at fallen bruised apples and protruding worms.

Smoke comes from the farmhouse. A woman is hanging clothes on the line.
The farmer emerges from the woodshed carrying an ax.

“Hey Papa," said Mrs. Gobbler "look at the ole coot all bare-chested."
You have a better pair of breasts than he does!” 

The Farmer's pace quickens, as he nears Mrs. Gobbler.
She flies laughing onto a branch an apple tree
which overhangs the duck pond. The kids scatter. 
Papa does a running take off from the dirt path landing on the Farmer’s bare chest,
pushing him and his ax into the pond. Mrs. bombs the Farmer with dangling apples.
The kids pick up acorns and pelt the farmer in the head with them. There he sits surrounded 
by bobbing apples and flaoting acorns, spewing water and wiping the hair from his eyes.
“My, my, my” says Papa Turkey.
“Sure does look like a tasty Farmer stew! Too bad we don’t have acorn biscuits.”

The woman drops her laundry basket and falls on the ground laughing.
“You Ole fool!” She says. 
“You better try the chickens! This year the turkeys have your number!”
“But watch out for flying eggs! No yolking!”

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The Sad Little Gnome

The Gnome was sad he was sitting feeling unloved and alone.
Nobody seemed to notice him now, when they came home.
He once was happy, smiling all day.
As they cam down the path, some even came to play.
His paint was cracked; his fishing rod was broke.
He was so upset he sometimes thought he would choke.
In the dark, dark blackness of this one night,
He heard a whisper and it gave him a fright.
Then again, he felt it didn’t really matter,
He was so sad, he thought his heart would shatter.
Suddenly the whispers grew and came to a stop beside him,
He was whisked away so fast, his rod broke again where it was thin,
All night in a bag sat the poor gnome, 
Not really upset that he had been taken from his home.
He sat and waited through the long night
When someone came to him it was broad daylight.
Oh you poor Gnome just look at you,
I’m going to give you new paint and a rod I will glue.
The gnome smiled widely, his picture was taken, and a letter was sent to his owner
Give us the money or you will not see again, this poor sad gnome, that’s a bit of a loner.
They painted him bright it was all good fun
They put him on a shelf with another gnome, a lady one.
Some money arrived to pay the Gnomes ransom,
They wanted him back, now he looked so handsome.
Please don’t return me I was sad and alone, unless you send me with this other gnome.
Ok little Gnome, no ransom was paid for the gnome by your side,
So we’ll put you together and she can be your bride.
The moral of this if you feel stuck and on the shelf
There always someone out but it could be a gnome or an elf.
Don’t rush into something because you are alone
Even though it worked out, for my sad little gnome.

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After 7000 years    old Atlantis    alluva sudden come up yesterday
Popped up – skinny end first – like a cork
No time ta think o’ displaced water    tidal waves    all that stuff
Shot up    not a periscope o’ warnin’    ner nothin’
Saucer strip in plain sight
Climbed so many miles in the sky    a drippin’ like mad
And belly-flopped right where they said it useta be
Scared hell outa 10,000 boy scouts at Disney World
Gotta be one o’ tha best danged things ever happened to the east 
    coast what with the shows all movin’ ta Californee. 
                       OLD ATLANTIS
                       THERE SHE FLOATS
                       THERE SHE BE    BOY
                       THAR SHE BLOWS!
They dispatched a team o’ guys from Wood’s Hole right away
Claimed her right away fer the old U S of A
That Plato he weren’t no dumbbell
He knew
Oughta eerect a statchew right on Poseidon’s front lawn in front o’
      the Grand Canal.
I didn’t see all this ya know
Onlyest seen what’s in the mornin’ paper
Front page pitchers o’ them muddy mountains and a tanker use ta 
     be sittin’ on the ocean floor.
Well golldang!    They’re gonna put up a big mewseeum so’s as 
      folks kin git a good look    so’s they kin touch all that crust 
What with the ice caps a meltin    who knows    folks may be 
      movin back to old Atlantis
Wouldn’t ya know it    now folks is a talkin’ bout a place called
I tell ya…………………………………..

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Call The Maintenance Men

  I’ve lost it. I’m exhausted.
 I can’t handle another day of these
 Auditory hallucinations. Doors creaking
Open Voices carrying around basins. 
 These days with no sleep
are starting to 
Become costly,
 to my overall health.
Wait, do I need help? 
      Hold up! 

 Grab a wrench!
 grab your tool belt!
We’ve got to get this girl back to 
Stellar mental health !
Wait, I’m not a machine?
I said to myself 
They said it’s okay ma’am 
We’re trained in these sorts
Of matters better than anybody else
Feeling stressed you say, take a shot
Of vodka while we take a look at you 
Right away 
A little elbow grease and your brain
Won’t be on its knees anymore 
You’ll be back on your feet in no time 
Miss, we  can’t miss with our new  
And improved stationery kits.
Just relax and you’ll improve
It’s not like you’re the only one
Going through this.

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Monkey Business

I once got myself a monkey
(God knows what breed his was).
He was black, with dark, big eyes--
A devil-thing you could never pass.

Pearly-teeth shone in his mouth,
When you but pleased this thing;
We'd get-along well together,
(Me thought we could do with some training)
And, I tried teaching him
And taught him little tricks,
But my word! The poor thing,
Got rounded in the basics:

A few things of course, took him time,
While others, he could never learn:
Like when I said,"Sit Marcel",
He'd start to jump up and run...!
(Which wasn't quite the big deal,
For he was still learning what to do)
At least it was better than
When his filth I found in my shoe!

I coached him about 'toilet-culture'--
Taught him where men with a pot always rushed;
When that one day, on missing  my spects,
I found them only being flushed...

Nonetheless, we glued well as pals,
But for a diner's calamity:
When I ask him once,"Get me that rice",
He sat on the tray and chose to pee!

He sought a perch upon my head
So I always had unkempt hair;
He'd sit, digging deep and hard,
I don't know for what thing up there.
(A small cheery, childish thing,
He'd always place himself with me)
But if he'd not torn my favourite shirts,
I say, I'd be much, much happy...

We used to talk as great pals: 
He'd face me then, and play his part,
Although upon losing interest,
He'd slap me, scratch me, and cut me short!

This training and all friendliness,
Sure made each grow fond of the other
When I realized, he had to leave somehow
(Leaving  me to shrug and shudder):

As a final mischief of his,
He'd got himself in a dirty puddle,
Then placed himself in the cupboard,
Disturbing order to a state of muddle...!
When that I asked him to get down,
He looked at me somewhat askance;
As if he knew what it was--
The unpleasant thing that had come to chance...

The grin on that face I was to miss 
I know--the parting was like Hell...
He knew not what would change for us,
I still miss good ol'Marcel...

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The Mullumbimby blokes new bull 
Was looking kind of poor, 
He shunned Ray's Jersey milking cows 
And serviced them no more. 
To buy this so-called champion 
Poor Ray had saved for years 
And seeing him the way he was 
It near brought him to tears. 
Ray thought ... I'll ring the local vet 
To come this very day, 
If any one can perk him up 
He'd surely know a way.  
The vet he looked him up and down, 
Then handed Ray a pill. 
"This ought to do the trick," he said, 
Then handed him the bill. 
That pill it did the trick all right 
His vigour was now back. 
Ray fed his mate a pill a day 
To keep the bull on track. 
The neighbour viewed the goings on 
And sought the secret out. 
Ray then revealed, "It's in a pill, 
A miracle no doubt." 
"So what does this pill look like then?" 
The neighbour sought a hint. 
"It's big and white," Ray then replied,  
"And tastes like peppermint." 

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A Sister's wish

"It has to be a girl," she had firmly announced,
My sweet little daughter, always craved for a sister!
So the news of a would-be sibling, did make her glad.
She had jumped and bounced.

"A girl would be perfect, boys are messy,
"I'd play my dolls with her and read princess stories",
Said my daughter, who was all girlie-girlie
She kept things in order, was neat and tidy, even a bit fussy!

She'd shopped for pink blankets, rompers, spoons and forks!
Smart girl that she is, she very well knew
"Babies don't come from hospitals nor gifted from temples
Neither are they dropped by visiting storks!"

She would be there for pregnant momma, a helping hand to lend.
She'd pat the sick mother and soothe her with a touch
Fetch her a glass of water
would not allow her to bend!

"My sis would look like me", so said Sara
Ecstatic she was about the brand new arrival
she promised even her stuff to share!
Found a rhyming name, "I'll call her Aura."

One fine day, mommy gave birth to a son
Hale and hearty, Sweet and chubby.
The family rejoiced but the sister said,
"Its not going to be fun."

"Give him back to the doctor, We won't keep this boy",
She said over the phone and with a frown on her face
She came visiting. Took the baby in her lap,
Saw his Angelic face and was filled with joy.

"He is cuter than any baby in the world can be", said she
Stroking her brother
"His skin is so soft and his fingers so tiny,
Well, we'll take him home, he looks just like me!"

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Memoir: Crashing Women's Studies- Feminists, BEWARE lol

Don't ask me how it happened; I have no clear recollection. I have always had this brazen habit of coming right out and directly asking for whatever I want; I always figured "no!" was the only worst possible outcome, aside from a good cussing, perhaps. Either or both I can handle.

My best friend, who had invited me to this event, wasn't even a speaker; she was just present for class credit and I had nothing better to do so I happily joined her. Her professor was the director, or MC, of the night's festivities and proceedings and Jill introduced us soon after we entered the banquet hall and before the speaking commenced.

I also have this horrid habit of mentioning that I am an artist to anyone of any importance or significance whatsoever, hoping to sound gallant and impressive. I can only surmise that Jill's teacher asked me what kind of artist I was, and I must have boldly stated, with an air of haughty confidence no doubt, that I was a de facto grand poet of the ages. I was only 19 at the time and thought I was Poe! My style was sloppy and unrefined, but I didn't know it yet.

Given that this was a "Women's Studies" organization and all guest speakers that night were, obviously, going to be female, I don't know how I convinced, finagled, schemed, bulled, or mechanized my way into making myself an impromptu speaker as well that evening. It was an "anything goes" type platform, from women reading poetry to short stories, to essays or presenting artwork. I was, I kid you not, the first male to EVER be a speaker at this "Women's Studies" gathering.

Having committed many of my poems to memory, I just quickly jotted down four or five particular favorites, and when it was my time to speak, impertinently stepped right up to the platform, adjusted the microphone, and recited my horrible poetry to a group of...I'm not sure if "feminists" is quite the word for which I am searching. Let's just say that if Gloria Steinem or Gertrude Stein had been in the audience, I might have been yanked off the podium. So there I was, babbling about, having basically crashed this Feminist rally. That I wasn't mauled or had my eyes scratched out can only be attributed to luck, progressive-thinking, guardian Angels or plain ol' polite courtesy. In retrospect, I blanch at the thought of my shameless, unabashed audacity.

I would love to know whether any more males ever took part in anymore of their events, but I guess I'll never know and can only hope that little bit of history I made that night remains intact. True story.

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When the dead start visiting

"Elvis came calling last night" I heard senile say
I stopped and did a double take wondering if I had heard right.
She smiled and said "He was with my mom in a pink cadillac"
I said, "But that can't be true! Elvis and your mom have been dead for years now!"
"I Know what I saw! It was Elvis; he even sang my favorite song for me!"

Not knowing what to say....I tried to change the subject
"The leaves are starting to turn and the yellows and reds are bright this year"
"Don't care about those leaves, they make such a mess in the yard!
Has Elvis ever been to your house?" said senile.
"Why no of course not....he died when I was just a little girl.
Did JFK come along for the ride also??"

Senile says, "No silly he has much  more important work in the white house!!"

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The name game

I’d never have guessed the fuss behind names To the rich and famous, their claim to fame To some a status of great importance Some changed by deed poll, classed as a hindrance Mr, a title and blend of Master Mrs, feminine can one go faster Such fuss over names, fill me with laughter They’ll always be here, before and after.

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Mr. Crab and Mr. Anemone

(A hermit crab has just realized that he can barely fit into his shell and the only other 
creature in earshot to hear his cries is a sea anemone who lives on the hermit crab's shell and has been the hermit crab's close friend for many years.)

Lament dear shell! For we stayed in the sun too long and you have shrunk!
How shall I survive with out you to protect me and house me from the sea?

   Shrunk!?!  A sea-shell?  How is it that a shell could shrink, I ask you Mr. Crab?
   How could something hard grow small?  Maybe something that is soft grew large?

Mr. Anemone, what exactly do you mean?  Something that is soft???
My shell is hard and my claws are harder.  I can crack coconuts and coquinas alike.

   No doubt, Mr. Crab, your claws are hard indeed, as hard as the shell on your head.
   But what about your tail?  Could it be that your tail has grown too big for your house?

Mr. Anemone, don’t be foolish.  I am as fit as a fish and sleek as a snake.
I highly doubt that my tail could be at fault, to be honest; I’m a bit insulted you would say so.

   Dear Mr. Crab, my intent is not to insult but to illuminate OUR current predicament.
   The shell on which I sit and in which you live is no longer big enough for YOUR tail -- are 
you listening?

Oh, excuse me Mr. Anemone, this blue-green algae is wonderful today.
Would you care for a snack?  It really is quite delicious and you are looking a bit thin.

   Mr. Crab, case and point!  You have already eaten breakfast twice today, this is your third.
   I believe we have narrowed in on the reason your shell has “shrunk”.  Are you paying 

Mmmmm, delicious algae; its so sweet when its fresh.  Oh yes, I heard you.
The sun has shrunk my shell and we must now say goodbye to our old home.

   Mr. Crab, a moment ago you were crying about the lack of room and potential eviction 
from our home,
   Now you munch away, ever expanding your tail and threatening our protection and even 
our lives!

(something floats down from the surface and comes to rest on the sand a few feet from Mr. 
Crab and Mr. Anemone)

Hello, what’s this Mr. Anemone?  Round opening, hard outer surface and very shiny,
And writing on the side, hmmm, “bud-weis-er”.  Budweiser!  Sounds like a great name for a 
new home.

   Yes indeed Mr. Crab.  When all hope seems lost and the end seems near, Mother Sea 
   And it would seem she has provided something big enough even for YOUR tail.

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For The Sake of Argument

I had laid foundation for this moment.
But who I wonder, might be listening?
The deftly fashioned phrases I had planned,
now tumble into mismatched tiles
of scrambled words, from scrabble's hand
spilling garble out of hand!

Now, this is news you may refuse
But let me tell you: HOW NOT TO ARGUE!

Yes!  Wrestle,  woo with words, I will!
I spill opinions, and take a stand!
Will he fall and say “Yes dear,”
while my stunning words appear
taking hold the upper hand?

Darn it!, much against my will,
emotional blubber, my tears will well!
My calm approach, and swift attack,
falls apart, WHAT'S UP WITH THAT?? !!
My soapbox, platform, for two left feet,
will crumble with my shamed defeat!

My five alarm fire, starts with a blaze,
too soon becomes a fading haze !
Just gol-darn smoke gets in his face!

Gibberish, senseless words out loud,
once proud embers, sound absurd!

Can't I once, get THE LAST WORD??

The surging tide, a frothy ripple,
makes him giggle, never grovel!
Pleasure gleams in both his eyes,
This drama queen just wants to die!
Dang it, I can never win
He folds his arms, and sports a grin!

Better end this bitter novel......
Let me dig, with my own shovel !!

For Verlena's Slam Contest...Round 2

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The Raunchy Haunch

“Quick smart struck onion!
You metronomous fishy tail!
You’ll not be taken in by me, 
you fraudulent legume!”

I seemed to have soundly unsettled her
Set her mind cross firing, flailing
But it’s not such a thing to be nettled for
No reason for wail and paling

“Quick, smart, lush young-one!
You’re melodious, pithy, hale!
I’m already taken much with you; 
please do let me resume!”  

Still I unbloomered my hand and bloused it
Found her skin a singin’ an’ tinglin’
Thrilled firm and brazenly arouse-ed 
Her dissent clearly dissemblin’

“Oh quick, start, rush lovin’!
My ‘band’s a louse, gritty, stale!
But he’ll not be taking long from now, 
or so we should assume!”

That’s when I heard an unsettling foot step
Eared hobnail booting scooting
And so sought out the exit I 'ad free kept
Flash fear foul intention mooting

Quick; dark, hush, re-button!
Your ‘band sussed our betrayal!
I’d best be taking my leave ‘bout now,
I’ll see you in no time soon!”

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I Dream of Zombies

Last night I dreamed of zombies 
I was barricaded in my home 
With my Husband 
The shadows of zombies 
With out stretched arms 
Like Frankenstein 
Bloody house 

They were being slowly 
Soon they would all be gone 
But it was taking so long 

I asked, The Other Half 
‘How long have we been trapped in our own home, while zombies roam the streets?’ 
‘Six and a half weeks.’ 
‘Six and a half bloody weeks?’ 

I woke to the normality of my life 
Same blanket, same pillow 
The Other Half gently breathing beside me 

I kick myself for being so bloody gullible 
How could I have not known that was a dream? 

I mean 

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WaSn'T Me

In our Family, we have seven kids, 
Well, that's how many I thought we did. 
But whenever I do a count. 
I never get to that amount. 
More often than not there's a few more, 
Sometimes I think we have a swinging door. 

I love it when they all appear, 
Filling the house with laughter and cheer. 
But whenever the friends all go home, 
And I think we're all alone, 
Somebody says that name, 
Then I know he's here again. 

Everytime something is not right, 
And the kids wind up in a fight, 
Wasn't Me always gets the blame, 
I know we didn't give any of our kids that name!. 
I hear his name frequently everyday, 
I didn't do it, "It Wasn't Me!", they'd say. 

Now I've come to the conclusion, he's just a naughty boy, 
But never having set eyes on him is beginning to annoy. 
I can't recall when he first came, 
But I do know he is always to blame. 
As soon something goes amiss, 
"It Wasn't Me!," the kids all hiss. 

Well, I wish this kid would just go home, 
And leave our Family all alone. 
Things were great before he came, 
 I had the kids almost tame!

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Ethnic Cleansing

****appalled wicked intoxication!

Tonight we are having a big evening
Brunch for the lot of them!
They are expecting to expect
The unexpected.....muuuuy! 
What shall we serve.....
And how do we split the bounty...

The curator exclaims, we are having Grey-PUPON
And Corn Bread.....
A happy customer ask! Where is the Hot Sauce...


Question: Whom do you serve first? The customer or the Gardner!
Warning: This is a rehtorical question...  OUCH!
Comment: Bladen figure it out!

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I Remember Him

I remember him as if it 
were yesterday, picking black 
berries for his mom’s cobbler pie.
He was bare foot with a dirty 
shirt and frayed blue jeans;
if you want to call them blue.
His hair dingy red, the color 
of southern red clay.
He never saw me; I was sitting 
in the water oak, over looking 
the creek running between our 

The creek was our playground 
for fishing and swimming.
We strung a kudzu vine over a 
limb, hanging straight over the 
creek; for swinging into the 
deepest part of the water.
Down in the shallows was 
where his family bathed on 
the warm days.
Today was not bath day, it was 
food gathering day.

After placing all of the berries 
into a big bowl, he would eat 
a handful before taking them to 
the house. 
As a routine, his mother always 
lathered him up with bacon grease 
to kill any chiggers, she said it 
smothered them, it was a wonder 
it didn’t smother him.
I wonder if that was why he 
always looked unkempt, plus he 
had wild animals following him 
quite a lot.
It seems as though it was just the 
other day, he had a skunk run 
him up a tree. 
I don’t know who smelt better, 
him or the skunk.

In school he would always sit in 
the back next to the window.
Some of the other boys nick 
named him Bacon; he didn’t mind, 
it made him feel important.
Me, I gradually got use to the 
way he smelled like a side of pork.
That’s how I always knew when 
he picked berries for his mom.
It was as if the bacon grease 
tattooed his pores.

She did make the best black 
berry cobbler in town; 
always taking first place in the 
county fair.
This year, the cash prize would 
be larger plus the recipe would 
be published in the state journal 
and eligible for contest winnings 
of five thousand dollars.

I knew that they could use the 
money, they were desperately 
in need of a big wash tub.
If it wasn’t for all of his friends 
at school, his mom would have 
never won the state prize money 
and I surely wouldn’t have married 
as I remember…

Copyright © 2008 By Caryl S. Muzzey

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' Knock - Knock Jokes ... ( Quirky, Yes )

Aahhhh, The Quirky/Idiosyncrasies of MoonBee

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Icky …
Icky Who ?
… Never Mind, I’ll Come Back Later …

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Juan …
Juan Who ?
I Don’t Know, What Do You Have In Mind ?

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Hula …
Hula Who ?
Yes, When I Was Young …

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
   Toodle …
Toodle Who ?
  … Ok

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
   Bye-Bye …
Bye-Bye Who ?
Look Lucy, We Found Ricky !

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
      Nu …
Nu Who ?
Well, If You Know Who, Why You Ask ?

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Woo …
Woo Who ?
… Ok, Who’s In Trouble ?

(The Obvious-Obvious, One)

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Who …
Who Who ?
Late Night, Huh ?

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Yu …
Not Me !
Yeah … Yu !

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Yu ! …
You Who ?!
… Hi …

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
     Yu !
Naaaaa, Naaaaa Interested !

Knock, Knock …
Who’s There ?
    Boo …
Boo Who ?
Wait, I’m Not A Bill Collector !

                               Knock, Knock …
                      Who… who oo ‘s  There ?
                                  Sue …
                           Su suu sue, Who ?
            (but then Door Opens, With A Crash
               Double-Barrel, Points Out, Blasts
     The Knocker Runs Fast, as Voice Shouts Out Rash
“ … Sue That ! and Don’t Come Back Talking ‘bout Whiplash”
          And The Man Sits Back Down, To Finish His Glass

                                 - - - - - - - - - - - -

              Oh, Darn, I’m Out Of Egg-Nog and Jack D
               Now, How Can I Make My Moonlight-Tea
             Well, It’s Back To The Market, For MoonBee
                                       He He He ! …

                            Have A Great Day, Y’all …


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My aunty Gerty Gribble was a true blue pioneer 
as she and husband Harold ran a place called 'Bendemere'. 
Two dinkum Aussie battlers, who had given their life's blood 
to fifty years of toiling on their outback cattle stud. 
So constant had the struggle been that Gert would often quote, 
she'd worked her tiny butt off just to keep the place afloat. 
The hours were so demanding she had no time for romance  
and motherhood had passed her by, she never got the chance. 
Old Gert was old and wrinkled when they gave the game away, 
though fit as any Mallee bull and jogged ten k a day. 
They bought a little donga in a Queensland coastal town, 
but sadly, being childless often got old Gerty down. 
She knew that her poor Harold was beyond it, without doubt, 
so Gert would try a new technique that she had read about.   
"You're far too old for IVF," the Doctor kindly said, 
but Gert was not to be put off, she forged on right ahead.  
"It happens that my Harold has been looking to donate  
a hundred thousand dollars to a worthy cause of late. 
However if you cannot help".  "You'll make a lovely Mum 
I'm sure ... so may I ask would next week be to burdensome?" 
Aunt Gert she fell first time it seems and had a little boy, 
which left her Harold overwhelmed and Gerty filled with joy. 
This news then spread like fowl manure and folk were left enthralled, 
The Premier and local Mayor among the first who called. 
One day while I was driving past I thought I'd duck in too 
and see my little cousin ... sort of pop in out the blue. 
Aunt Gert was glad to see me, but she asked if I could wait  
until he woke from sleeping, though did not elaborate.  

Within the hour to my surprise ten other folk called by 
and aunty Gert told them the same and I was dumbstruck why. 
We sat and dunked our biscuits in the tea she'd kindly made 
while Gert was scratching her old head and looked somewhat dismayed. 
The Doctor from the clinic, who'd been playing basketball, 
had wondered how Gert's baby was and thought he'd make a call. 
"It's nice your dropping in" she said, "but Doctor would you mind 
just waiting till the baby wakes - I'm in a  kind of bind." 
"A problem Gert?" the Doctor said, "There something I can do?" 
"Not really Doc.  He's sound asleep,  these folk are waiting too. 
I'd show you him asleep and all, if that is what you'd like,  
but Doc, I can't recall just where I put the little tyke."

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While I was drinking in the Vic' 
Out Goondiwindi way, 
This burnt out ringer on his horse 
Reined in and said, "G’day!" 
We'd all been playing 301, 
So asked could he join in. 
"Sure thing old mate!" we all agreed, 
Which brought a toothless grin. 
"The name is Paddy Mellon boys ... 
I'll have a pot please love ... 
I feel I'm on a winning streak 
Or there’s no God above." 
He sat there perched upon his stool  
Between the pub's doorway, 
And held the reins of his old horse, 
Which sensed he planned to stay. 
The pots went down and time flashed by, 
He won near ev'ry game, 
But Paddy's knees were bowing fast, 
His aim a bit the same. 
By late that 'arve the wobbly boot 
Had taken full control, 
Old Paddy’s winning streak had gone 
And Nick had claimed his soul. 
Poor Paddy's darts they missed their mark, 
The grog had soaked his brains, 
But Paddy he just blamed the horse. 
"Stop pulling on the reins!" The boys in blue had called in too 
And warned him there and then, 
"We catching you riding that horse drunk 
You'll see a cell ag'en." 
Old Paddy broke and out of luck 
Resigned to riding off 
And as he rode into the night 
He gave a smoker's cough. 
He'd only gone a block or two 
When who should drive on past. 
None other than the boys in blue, 
Who turned around real fast. 
But Paddy though had seen them too 
And instinct then took hold. 
He jumped behind the saddle quick, 
His grin was brazen, bold. 
The constable looked up at him,  
He'd teach this ringer what. 
"We told you not to ride that horse, 
You poor old drunken sot!" 
But Paddy said, "You've got it wrong, 
I am not riding Sir. 
You see on this old horse my friend 
I'm just a passenger!" 

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Soda Machine 1 – Humans 0

A soda machine took them down.
American, Japanese, European, Indian
and Chinese I saw attempt to buy from
that machine. And the machine won.
Try and try they might, they put in dollar
after dollar with no success at all.
They swapped ones and asked each other
to try another one and they kept stuffing
ones in that machine, but to no avail.
I watched this with quite a bit of amusement.
Sociology 101 … a group of people immediately
becomes stupid.
Not quite what I learned, but pretty close.
As I stood there – having already figuring out
that the bill collection slot was full – I counted
out enough quarters and I sauntered over to the
machine to make a purchase.
The people there asked me to try one of my dollars
or if I had different dollars from what they had.
I had to do it – I just had that streak in me right
then. I pumped in my quarters and
bought a soda, turned to the assemblage and said,
The bill slot is full, idiots, use change.
And I walked away with my soda, but not before
I saw the looks of bewilderment in the eyes of
the people. It never even occurred to them.
So I made a silent toast to the stupidity
of the masses and the amusement they provide.
Ah, this would be such a great planet
if it wasn’t for the people.

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Love is someting on a daily basis that should always be displayed
A kind word,helping hands are ways it can be conveyed.
Hello there!How are you doing ?Or may I help you please.....
Are all but a few phrases that could be said with ease?

Instead.....its no thank you!I donk care or who are you anyway?
You're just trying to extend a little love and then they blow you away.
That's a nice dress,I like your hair or may I please see your hat?
All you can hear with a cold stare is what you think he looking at.

Our dear Father who lives up above,said to love everyone like your self;
I guess people these days got tired of that and put love back on the shelf.
We need to take it back down ,dust it off and give it another try,
Its not that hard to spread around even if its denied.

I still beleive that love has hope amidst the doom and gloom;
It may get better....I don't know?......before GOD comes,or when man
lives on the moon

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Heavens to Murgatroid

Heaven’s to Mergetroid, what dire straights had the moon men gotten themselves into this time? Lunar craters were filling with nuclear waste and there was not a friend to be found at the convention. The UFO (Unified Foreign Oscillators) team was too busy singing itself silly in the far corner around the Hammond organ. It was a regular wine and dine of vacuum salesmen with dozens of oxygen masks, slamming traditional medicine and promoting laughter, pushing the sucking of gas vapors through a straw! Each new sale brought forth new tid-bits of bad breath and gafaws. The Listerine soaked tissues drifting in on silver trays from the kitchen were bound to quell the stench! Rosie the robotic maid yanked the club Presidents spandex boxer shorts up so high he squealed with pleasure! The robot bouncers had to launch wormholes into the raucous crowd to thin them out. Those still standing after that gig would have the dislocated jaws from laughing after having taken their medicine. 

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Memoirs Of A Barber-Stylist (Mature)

       Come in.  Have a seat.  Come listen to my story.  It's a bit upbeat.  I cut and styled 
hair for several years and some of the things that happened will make you laugh so hard, it'll 
bring you to tears.  Once there was a lady with very thick hair who wanted a razor cut to 
kinda thin it out.  The hair cut went well until just before I finished, then my razor slipped 
and I cut out a big amount of hair.  Of course I never told her you could see skin.  I finished 
the haircut and when it came time to show her the back of her hair in the mirror,  I angled it 
just enough to where she couldn't see the gap.  Oh well, in my chair that's the chance you 
       There was a man came in one day with a very nice mole on his neck.  I worked all 
around it and was very careful.  I was almost finished cleaning up his neck with the clippers 
and somehow the clipper slipped.  All I can say is no extra for surgery!
       A very young man who was the son of a man whom I went to church with came in one 
day.  He was one of God's special children and says things sometimes that just pop in his 
mind.  He talked about a lot of things while I cut his hair.  Then out of the blue he 
said, "P___y sure is good!"  If I'd had false teeth they would have flown across the room. It 
was such a shock!   But instead I tried to act natural because he was such a kid.  So I 
answered and said, "Yes, it sure is!" and kept cutting.  That was all he said and knowing him 
and his family, I doubt he really knew.
       A really frizzy haired young man came in one day and wanted a style.  My mom just 
happened to be there as my receptionist that day.  She kind of eyed him when he came in 
but didn't say anything.  I cut his hair and took pains and pulled out all the frizz and he did 
look rather nice.  When he went to pay mom looked at him and said, "You look like an 
entirely different person!"  And of course the situation at the time, I was trying to build a 
business and wanted to go through the floor.  
       Let me just tell you one more.  Some of you ladies may have been cruel and done this 
before.  And men if your barber is a lady you probably have too  If you place your hands 
and fingers on the end of the arm, in strategic places as the barber works there, you may 
get more than your money's worth!  LOL.  This has happened to me more than once. I could 
feel their fingers flipping to feel me.  And you know it's intentional because if you look in the 
mirror, they will look in your eyes!

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"Come take a ride with me"
 That’s what he said
 The conservative side of me
 Almost jumped out and said;

"huh uh, I don't do roller-coasters"
 but the look on his face
 prompted me to change my mind
as if to say
you don't know what you're missing,

he has thrown down the gauntlet,
and don't I love a challenge! 
I didn't need a second invitation
as soon as I was strapped in,

it started to move slowly,
thinking to myself
"I can handle this; it’s a piece of cake, 
not scary at all"
What the hell? 
Who was I kidding?

midway through the first lap,
it started to bounce up
and just as quickly 
it skid down again

I grabbed the bars 
to stable myself in the seat
leaving marks on my hands
as I dug my fingernails deeper,
into my own flesh.

Glancing across I can see 
my fellow revelers’ mouths moving,
but I can’t hear a word they're saying
it looks like one of those silent movies

all I can feel is my heart beating faster
and with every movement
praying for my safekeeping,

at the same time cursing  
this guy next to me
with a solemn promise
that if I live to tell the tale,

I will never allow myself 
to be talked into something 
this crazy again, 
even if the guy is as sexy 
as the one sitting next to me…

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...this is so intimate of time, as a first kiss of time close of soul, so near, so dear of heart beat, so precious a rhyme that flows so intimately,
deep of time, down by the Crystal Seas...
...this is so intimate of dreams,
dreaming reality,
as the Crystal Sea so reveals of destinies galore,
destined as the night light of the moon-glows of starry eyes,
upon the waters,
...seeing tranquility upon the waves...
watching to the depth of a dream,
and a sun-rise
being so true...
for underneath and within this a moon-lit poem of starry night eyes, down by the Crystal Seas, a vessel sets sail upon the deep...into a kiss of dawn...
Sea to shinning Sea.

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Frozen in time,
captivated by this enormous being,
the size of a small car.

his every move.
The way he used his hands;
so child-like.
With all the consciousness of the world, 
and graceless coordination.

of the visitors,
as they briefly called out for his attention.
Only for a moment,
then they were gone.

in an orderly sham. 
He sat there,
in his dark cave.
As if he was waiting for the light to find him.

on a boulder, 
squatting, and primitive.
Drawing in the dirt with one hand. 
Swatting a fly with the other.

His nature,
as he rushed to consume his food.
The females hovered behind him,
watching intently, 
like me.
His movement mechanic.
His presence powerful.
He was the king of his domain.

his magnificence, I watched.
How smart was he?
Could he feel my presence? 
Engulfed in the very essence of all that was him, 
I watched. 

how he felt, I watched.
Did he think he was still in the womb of Mother Nature?
Or, did he know the iron bars which embrace him now?

it happened;
our eyes met.
He noticed my presence.
His gaze intimidated me, 
But I did not look away.
He approached me.
I felt his eyes inspecting my soul.
A chill ran down my back,
I turned behind me,
only to find no other presence there.
When I turned back, 
we were face to face.
Separated by the sham,
And a two inch piece of glass.
Just me and him,
the two of us,
and the females hovering behind him.

His old eyes spoke to me,
They said 
“I am like you. 
I love, I feel, I hurt.
I am, like you.”

I put my hand on the glass
and with all the 
consciousness of the world,
he did the same.
With tears in my eyes,
I smiled.

Then, he pooped in his other hand
and wiped it on the glass.
This was a sign of endearment.
I laughed out loud.
And I swear,
He smiled back.

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Dear Diary

Dear Diary...
     In class today, those dreamy eyes of grey
     I can't believe he looked my way!! Oh, gosh!... No way!!!

Dear Diary...
     Remember that boy just across the aisle?
     Another glance at me....or...did he smile??

Dear Diary...
     He asked to borrow a pen from me!!!
     I thought I'd faint...I almost peed!!

Dear Diary...
     After class today, he walked me out
     He likes!!! ...I want to shout!!

Dear Diary...
     He asked me if I'd go to prom next week
     What'll I wear?? Oh gads... I'm gonna freak!!

Dear Diary...
     The dance was dreamy, was in the gym
     with paper streamers....and me with HIM!!

Dear Diary...
     The lights were low, he held me tight
     I had major goosebumps all through the night!!

Dear Diary...
     The evening ended, last song was "Misty"
     Guess what dear diary?....."THAT'S WHEN HE KISSED ME!!!"

Dear Diary...
     Two weeks have passed, and we're going steady
     But a new kid's in town, well ..his name is Freddy.

Dear Diary...
     He's really cute, he likes me too!!
     Oh dear diary...What should I do?????


In honor of Carol Brown's contest: "First Date"

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Just My Luck

I was walking one day
when a beautiful woman
walking toward me yelled out,
"Hey, you've got a big........
tear in your jeans."
Proudly, I thought "My big........
Sadly, I lowered my head
for the rest of the walk,
and then went back to my 
lonely home... to find some thread!

For "Thread" contest sponsored by Paula Swanson.

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What the Dog Saw

My husband and I often walk down to the local corner shop at dusk to pick up a couple off ice-cold beers. There’s this little house with a white picket fence where a tiny dog with a loud bark lives. As soon as he gets a whiff of us he goes absolutely berserk. Here’s what I imagine he is saying. 

The little dog sees legs: 

Hey, hey, hey, stop, stop, wait a minute you guys, HEY! HEEY! Where are you going? Take me with you. Stop, stop for a minute. For the love of God STOP! Murder! Do did you hear me buddy? I said Murder! Murder! There’s been a brutal bloody murder! My masters buried in the back garden. Under the roses. I saw my new master kill him. I am living with a murderer! HELLO! There’s a man buried in the garden and no one listens to me. What is wrong with you humans? Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me? I’m a dog for Christ’s sake we see everything. I’m so stressed out right now. So stressed out. I think I’m next. Take me with you, please! Why aren’t you stopping? 

The legs pass: 

Dead silence.

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That day my whacky words dried up

Never say never
I was still laughing,
still having a blast 
giving my two cents 
on what’s hip and what’s not
little did I know
it’s so not me
that’s definitely not my calling…

Wearing my hat half skew on my head
jeans so baggy
I almost tripped
thinking I look so fly
only thing missing was my rhymes
“whasup my peeps!! how’s things rolling?”
silly me!

Should have seen those quizzical expressions
as if to say, err what the hell or who the hell are you trying to be
silly me!
thinking to myself…

What to say next when you silence a room?
earth open up and swallow me whole
it happened that day my whacky words dried up!!

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The Dictionary Hunting Expedition

Yeah, just grab an old rusty shovel, a case of Bud Light and hop in the back of my red
pickup truck, because us country boys are heading down to Sweetwater Creek to hunt for
some rare species of dictionary. Boy, don't you worry about nothing. We got plenty of
ammo. Uncle Willie, you know them dictionaries got some powerful stuff. 

Yeah, they got all kinds of words that I cain't spell or spit out my mouth. Some folks
say, you can use them fancy-polished words printed in a dictionary. You boys know better.
We can't read, write or arithmetic! Boys, we need to shake a stick, saddle up and go
rustle up some wild dictionaries. To capture a wild dictionary, you need to wear
specialized Desert Storm camouflaged gear, and be very quiet! 

Boys, its time for the hunting dictionary expedition!

Now, big Willie, listen to me good, when we find this critter, I am not settling for a
handshake, because I need to bust a few caps in those hind parts with my double-pump
shotgun. Boy, be quiet. Do you hear something rattling behind them bushes? Hey, look down
yonder! Oh, Nellie, I got a big surprise for that old slick Willy dictionary.

Well, I am a Southern Boy, with a background in cannon artillery and fire weaponry. I will
deliver the final blow and knockout punch with my deluxe  K-Mart special, double barrel
Winchester rifle, equipped with a high-powered scope, aiming  right-between-the-eyes of
the victim. 

Big Willie, You know stuff is going to fly in every direction. Now, its time to grab that
slippery dictionary right by the tail, fling it straight up in the air and shake the
cobwebs loose! Just in case, we might have to tap it with a few more rounds of buckshot
from my shotgun named big Shirley. You know, just so I can let it marinade. 

Man, I am so cool, when I captured this black double-breasted Oxford dictionary, I skinned
it and cleaned it and turn it into a thesaurus. 
 Posted By: Gregory W Golden Dated 16 Oct 2006

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No Matter the Floor You Pass Out On

No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On

I awake as any other madman slash poet.
Apon the floor  naked  pizza box for pillow a members only jacket for a blanket.
yes the libary sure has changed over the years.

less and less people were reading buggets were cut meaning 
libraryies were under staffed and rarely did anyone dare venture into 
the stacks  and thank good for that. Cause being i preffered free sleeping
it was probaly for the best.

but no matter the the floor you pass out on most all fine 
american men wake up with are god given birth rite.
That which after a trip to the restroom like 
that early morning madness that was christmas  pressent openning
was over way to fast and was kinda disapointing.

Floors werent the best beds in the world in fact they 
sucked altogather but drinking and common sense dont even 
belong in the same room togather.

Portsmouth Va  was a strange world indeed a place where upscale colided with skidrow.
Me I preffer the company of a outdoor sleeper to that of a
spoiled spoon fed yuppie turd.
the art school cranked out angst ridden buble people by the second.

They walked the street soaking in the pain of life.
there heads stuck so far up there asses I always felt compeled to trip them as they walked 
acting as though they were outsiders  yerning to be mainstream
they'd rape there mothers on a mtv reality show as dad cried in the background.

Just for a taste of stardom. 
True talent who needs that?
but no matter the floor you pass out on one
thing was clear.

In a world were you could have a bus load 
of kids and get paid for it.
fame wasnt such a rare thing anymore.

The floor I passed out on was cold and cruel but surrounded 
voices from the past.
the floor these hollow  reallity show bottom  feeders
passed out on.  Had to besoft as there heads.

Otherwise there brains would splatter across the floor.
And some TV exect would have a brainstorm  to have a show
were washed up celebrities would have a contest.

To see who could bore us the most with there sob story  
Yes friends id rather have a pizza box for a pillow 
than a reality show  pillbox for a brain.

and the truth effectsus all form no matter 
which floor so you do choose to pass out on.

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Making Santa's Naughty List

Woke at five and heard the rain sprinkle, 
so I crawled back in for a good morning sleeper. 
All that stIrred was the fan beside the bed as
I turned it off and curled to stir some heat. 
My eyes went close and the world went black, 
I went back sleep in hopes of St. Nick.
Not a dream lingers, not even a sound made. 
That fat little" son of a monkey's az just 
flew over my house again. 
I flew from my bed with my shotgun in my hand, 
I get you this time my friend and all your precious jewels. 
Third round came and I let off a shot, Dang he's 
quick as I hit Rudolph in the sack.
He rared and kicked as he shot straight to the sky.
As Santa cried, I get you next year as he 
flew out of sight.

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Canada Dry

Apon are arrival once at times seemed questionable
We were greated by none.
Hawaii had spoiled us to all other airport experiences
Were else could a half hunover  yet slighty buzzed  madman
stumble from a plane to encounter a beautiful woman in a grass skirt
and cocunut bra once even now made me thirst for for a pina collada.

But in in canada there was nothing  to greet us there but cold 
As we stumbbled around dressed like soon to be doomed criminals awaitting trial.

Cananda its slogan should have been.
Welcome to Cannada  it's really dam cold.
But we knew where to find warmth in this enviroment.
Or for that matter any enviroment.
For we were drunks or as i liked to think of it consistant drinkers 

And on are journey into this land of freezing weather maple syrup
and ice hockey.
We had one true goal.
we had come to drink Cannada dry.

No bar would go untouched No bottle would not know are name.
we would hit on many women.
Score with a few and say we had slept with many.

I was a religeous man and i needed to get in touch with with the spirts
The spirts of Canadian mist  Jim beam  And my old stand by spirt Gin 

It was a bold mission for which we had set forth.
Are livers were alredy beaten to almost a pulp but 
we still somehow  walked and functioned in disquise of 
semi normal human beings  but nothing was further from the truth

we were writters once ment we were professional crazy people
On a mission to depleet this icey land of its alcohol
an drink canada dry

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Pat and Henry: Mutual Feelings

I saw you last week by the river, right?

Oh, I couldn't say.

It was you alright. You were staring up at the sky. You were muttering about the clouds.

Yes, that was me. The clouds trouble me.

Oh, right. They say the end is near.

Sure, sure. Nothing but flat screens from here on out.

What on Earth are flat screens?

No, I said rat screams.

Oh, right. I hate rats. Gnaw at your feet. Pester the off-spring.

(mutters) These clouds will be the death of us...

Say what now?

I'm sorry. I tend to get a little melodramatic in the late afternoon.

I tend to get a little hungry. Especially these days, when everything seems to be dying
around me. I miss the live catch!

I suppose they'll learn from all the left-over bones...

Sorry, who will learn what?

They will learn what happened here.

And what do you think is happening, Cloud Gazer?

Not sure. But whatever it is, it's happening now. Look over there. IPad, by the way.


My name is Pat, I mean.

Oh. I'm Henry. Nice to meet you.

The feeling's mutual.

Where are you headed Pat?

Into history books most likely.

May I join you?

Don't think you have a choice.

We're all dying off, aren't we? Ever since that beam of light in the night's sky last
month, and now this thing with the clouds...we're done for, aren't we?

We had our run, Henry. Now it's time to lay down.

Okay, then. What a shame this all is. (sigh) I'm laying down. Alright, I'm down.

That's it, Henry.

Aren't you gonna lay down with me, Pat?

Naw, I just got up from a nap about an hour ago. 

Well, what else is there to do if all we got left is to lay around and wait to die?

I was thinking about going rollerskating. 

Really? Me too.

Probably too cloudy though. 

Yeah, definitely.

Should probably rest some more.


Goodnight, Henry.

Goodnight, Pat.

See ya in a drawing on Facebook.


Nothing. Go to sleep.

Sleep I am going.

The feeling is mutual.

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Granddad loved to kid around.
I can still hear his loud gregarious laugh.
He teased me saying that a boy in the neighborhood was …
My boyfriend!
At first, I didn’t know what a boyfriend was.
We were about five or six years old back then.
When we walked home from school,
Granddad put me up to giving Terry a kiss.
Try as I might, with granddad taunting,
“Run Dane Run!  Give him a kiss!”
Terry squealed all the way home -
Running as fast as he could,
He always got away!
Granddad laughed and laughed.
I chased the poor boy almost every day.
And Terry cried.  But we were still friends.
Then, came the day we had our first date.
Our parents dropped us off at a movie.  
I think it was “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”
At the ripe old age of seven, maybe eight,
It was the perfect choice.
We sat there together with some older children.
Holding hands never crossed our minds.
Neither did kissing.  
(I guess the fun was in the chase 
And granddad laughing.)
We went home awestruck by animations.
We played a lot, never thinking about a kiss.
My family moved away that same year.
Terry grew up and married somebody else.
We never did K-I-S-S at the movie…
Or in a tree, or anywhere at all!
But I always remember him fondly.

© July 9, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

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The Funny Farm Revisited

 Well it’s getting close to that time again,
    When I’m not suppose to be happy and I’d better not grin.
Hiding is okay as long as you don’t make a sound,
    Pray like all get out that you don’t get found.
Well it freaks me out to say the least,
    One minute she’s happy the next she turns into a beast.
Someone said they got a pill for this kind of thing,
    I’ll give her a double dosage and hope it’s relief it brings.
If it don’t work on her I’ll try one of them pills,
     Just thinking about last month done brought on a bad ole chill.
I’ll just keep my mouth shut that’s the best thing I can do,
     I’ll just look at her and nod and pray I nod in the right direction too.
Here she comes with that sweetie pie look,
     The last time I saw that my goose was about to cook.
So if you guys don’t hear from me in the next few days,
     Know it’s been fun but she said right now I’ve got dues to pay.
I guess I’d better close, ouch hang on baby let me finish this line,
     Dat gummit woman now don’t hit me with that sign.
Well she didn’t break but one hand so I can still hunt and peck,
     She’s like that Dr. that turned into a monster I feel like I was in a wreck.
Going through the change doesn’t seem to bother her at all,
     Shoot I’m the one sporting bruises and having close calls.
Well that pill made her sleepy, 
      But her eyes are wide open and that’s down right creepy.
I guess I’d better close,
     And go change the cotton in my nose, night all!!!!!

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The Day After Christmas

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house, 
The toys were all broken...the kids started to grouse.
And Momma in her apron, and I in my shorts, 
Were just cleaning up after making strawberry tortes.
When out in the hall there came such a THUMP,
We both ran from the kitchen...with a hop, skip, and jump.
Away to the hallway we ran like the wind,
Only to see something was wrong involving our twins.
The top of the tree and its base were askew,
And gave us the feeling...something abnormal was abrew.
When out from below there came such a yell,
My wife and I...both backward we fell.
There, on the floor, with the tree on his head,
Sat our little son screaming...the one we'd named Fred.
"Oh Mommy, Oh Daddy, Jimmy did it to me,
I was playing so nicely...when he pulled the tree down on me!"
Jimmy stood there in silence just looking at the pile,
Then his little eyes flashed...and his face broke into a smile.
We stood looking at Fred, the tree, and little Jimmy too,
Then broke into we took in the view.
We picked up the tree, you could see Fred's reddening face,
As things were put back...all in their proper place.
Jimmy ran up the stairs without be told,
"I know, I don't have to scold.
I'll go to my room into my TIME OUT place,
Just tell me for how long...So I can keep this grin on my face."

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Three roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel all three    
And be one traveler,  long I stood 
And gazed down each;  but take none I could, 
For in this trilemma, there was no Frost poem to guide me. 

By taking one I was missing a double.
Oh why did he not write a helping hint for me?
Maybe I’m stirring  up  a lot of trouble,
Just inflating a big hot-air bubble,
But those other two could have set me free.

By taking none, the immobilization of me
And my dithering reconnoitering,
Especially in a dark wood where no one can see,
Brought in the police  and judiciary:
And I was locked up for suspicious  loitering.

I shall be telling this with immense frustration
Sometime hence no matter what I’m doin’.
The three roads led to utter consternation
And ultimately to penitentiary  isolation  -
And that has been my ruin.

Entered in Frank Herrera's  Contest 	
The CrossRoads of your Life 

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Sonnetina Sequence-THE RIPE ORCHARDS

September has come
and the ripe orchards
abundantly display their delicious fruits:
peaches of delicate rose,
and cherries of deep red!
Teens, with their empty baskets, 
anxiously run to pull them 
off the drooping branches;
and one of them yells,
" I have gotten the first one! " 

What a gleeful celebration for youngsters 
about to return to loved-and-hated school
with their band-new and heavy backpacks;
and they will write about these harvest's moments,
and wait with exciting eyes how their writings
will be scored by their teacher, and if someone 
should cheat, points will be taken kids,
squash your curiosity and kindly behave!
All of them did their best in writing poems without rhyme,   
poems of a harvest with an aroma so fine!

The hot afternoon reddens the faces
of all the experienced fruit-pickers,
and these struggling young ones
can't speed up to their pace!
" Hurry, Jack...let Susan help
you with your over-loaded basket...
everyone has finished picking and gone! "
What a humorous remark that
even makes the sullen and tired sun 
smile...when his duty is coming to a sudden end!

Happily they trot out of the orchards, singing nursery' rhymes,
sustaining the heaviest load they have ever felt ,
not to let their baskets drop and give the watchful squirrels 
a chance to snatch some of the tempting fruits away!
And as they look up, dusk makes its appearance to scare them away!
And as if they were chased by unleashed dogs,
some fall, some run for their useless drama started by fancy!
Much fun they had, but unhappy about the bruises on their knees,
at least, they had one consolation: all the peaches and cherries they could eat!
And they laughed at each other, no one could ever forget about their fright!

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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I'm driving down Eighteent' Avenoo in Bensonhoist,
I am having a wallear for a hero; I jeet
nothin' yet, and metballs sound great
but I don't wanna wait on line...
like deeze nice kids from North Carolina!
I tried to jump the line, but duh big guy...
a mean-looking man yells,
" Get back on line, weisnheimer... I don't like doze
kinda of guys...yuh're just another customer! " 
I am so hungry I could jeet a big cow,
an' wanna give him a piece of my silly mind!
"Oh my god...he makes me mad!"
" Yuh got a lotta nerve, buddy! " I yell back...
" Don't yuh mess with a goomba! " 
" Oh, my god...I sound like doze guys from Duh Sopranos... 
I wanna no drama, just my meatballs hero and go! "  
Duh tall, chubby man stares at me an' says," Listen to me,  
don't yuh tawk to me like dat! "...
" Yuh think...yuh're so special!" I axeya
in a nice way, so go back to the' wait like dey do!...
" Do yuh understand? "..." Someone tell me...whatta I'm gonna 
do with an idiot like dat? "
" Yuh still laugh at me like I am tellin' yuh a whacky joke! " 
He freezes my words...I can't tawk;
and with a huge hero in my hand, I run back to my scash!


I'm driving down Eighteenth Avenue in Bensonhurst,
I am having a craving for a sandwich;
I haven't eaten anything yet, and meatballs look great,
but I don't want to wait in line...
like these nice kids from North Carolina!
I try to jump the line, but the big guy,
a mean-looking man looks at me and shouts,
" Get back in line, wise guy...I don't like those kind of guys!"
" You are just another customer!"
I'm so hungry I could eat a big cow,
and I want to give him a piece of my crazy mind,
but the tall, chubby man stares at me and says, 
"Listen to me, don't you talk to me like that!"
"You think you are so special! I asked you in a nice way,
so go back in line... and wait like they do!"...
"Do you understand?..."Someone tell me...what I am going to do
with an idiot like that?..."You still laugh at me like I'm telling you a crazy joke!"
He freezes my words...I can't talk;
and with a huge sanwich in my hand,
I quickly run back to my old-beat-up car!

 Entered in Debarah's Guzzi contest, " Dialects make the world go around "

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Amiana Visits Grandma Flo

Amiana was so very happy When she finally got to go For a wonderful visit to see Her happy Grandma Flo They both got right on the ball Since many years had passed Without any visits at all Now the time was here at last They first tried their luck With a pizza they ate The cheese and paper got stuck But it really tasted great Next they decided to write A poem about the visit Grandma was a funny sight When she kept saying tis-it The poem was going to be About Butch the ceramic statue But their minds changed you see For there was nothing he could do Grandma’s dog Sophie made a fuss They just couldn’t concentrate As she was getting so rambunctious But she got quite after she ate With so much they wanted to do They made a list to prioritize Then for energy to get all through They first began with exercise Amiana needed to stretch her skin As she was beginning to grow And with Grandma getting so thin Her skin needed tightening you know They told funny stories to each other When they finished doing a dance They planned to put poems in ABC order But never did get the chance They giggled and laughed all around And even hid snow globes too Hard to locate but always found After searching through and through A lot squeezed into two days Amiana made a big poster And figured out a puzzle maze That Grandma Flo drew for her They dusted and shined the whatnots And took time to play with Sophie They updated calendars and did a lot While building special memories In the morning they still had fun They watched a little Joel Osteen And planned to go out in the sun But first got a few things cleaned Even using a timer they didn’t realize While tanning and talking of the fun they had That it was time to go home and were surprised When they were greeted by her mom and dad They will both remember this day When Amiana was only seven And how they laughed and played Like it was a joyful day in heaven Florence McMillian (Flo)

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The Ghost in my House

The house was new on the inside and old on the out.
Busily we arranged and moved things about.
We worked all day until the night set in
We decided to wait till morning to again begin.
I decided to make us something to eat
I went to the kitchen with my dog at my feet.
I managed to prepare a tray full of snacks;
I picked up the tray and stopped dead in my tracks.
I heard a voice ask, “so what’s up with you?”
I thought to my self at least he didn’t say “BOO!”
I looked around and no one was there.
I have to admit it gave me a scare.
A day or two later, I was taking a nap.
I awoke to the sound of a repetitive tap.
I was startled to see someone at the foot of the bed,
A stocky fellow with a beard, flannel shirt and a cap on his head
I looked at him and he looked at me, a moment later he faded away
“I think this house is haunted!” I announced with dismay. 
I checked around town and found out his name.
I  found that he live in the house before we came.
“Rodney” passed from an accident a few years before;
After that day he appeared  he would visit us more.
I don’t mind that  he peeks through the bedroom door,
But when he dumps the trash can, I wish he would clean up the floor.

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Don't Forget The Chips!

“Honey, did you buy the chips?” No baby, I’ll get that later"
Are you sure you won’t forget?” “Naw” 
“I’ll run by the store” on my way home from the gym
“What are you looking for?”  I ask. “My keys”. He says
“Where did you leave them?” I ask.  Right there” Pointing, He says 
"No", I shake my head as I point towards the top of the fridge, 
Where he left the keys
A quick exchange of a kiss and he's running out the door
"See you later babe.. I’m running late"
“Yeah, be home early to light the grill” I yell
Don’t worry, I will”. Those are the last words he says

It’s Monday Night Football everyone’s prep for the game. 
The beer is chilled, the beef set to grill 
Soon the guys will be over as it’ is our turn to host
Only ten minutes to game time, when loud laughter erupts
As seven men carrying beer kegs burst through the door
After the greetings and teasing and jostling subside
Every seat occupied and one bellows out, “Where're the chips?”
Each one looks at the other. Then they all look at me!
“Hey, don’t look at me!” I say. I exit and return, bringing bowls laden with chips…
He looks up at me with that smile and all I see, is the excited little boy in him

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Down by the river can you picture me here?
    Fishing pole in hand, sipping on a beer.
Life is just sweeter than sweet.
     Hopefully by night there’ll be a good mess of fish for me to eat.
Well my line just went slack,
     Now something seems to be a bringing it back.
Hope it’s a big ole blue cat a taking a bite.
     He’ll be frying in the frying pan come later tonight.
I got my camp all set and a fire a burning low,
    Cast iron skillet goes with me wherever I go.
Got cornmeal and fixings to make it taste right, you know bamm, I call it poww.
    That was an ole blue cat and I’ve got him cooking right now. 
Got taters and onions stinking up that ole grease,
     Sure is good catfish reckon I’d better get me another piece.
Sure do wish ya’ll were all here,
      Got plenty of catfish but you’ll have to bring your own beer.
Bring along a fishing pole or two,
      Bait it up and throw it out is all you need to do.
This ole water hole is just plumb full of fish,
     And cooking over the grill makes it simply delish.
I spit on my bait, throw it out, and in a minute or two,
     I’m reeling in a catfish and betcha you can too.

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Sunrise versus Sunset

“Ok, I need to know, which do you prefer, a sunrise or a sunset?”
The question was odd, who was this guy?  Hadn't we just met?
I pretended to ponder on it carefully and tried to look very sage.
To choose one was to decide which of my appendages I preferred
My arm was a chosen  favorite so should I leave my leg deferred?
The elf was insistent.

I said I didn’t care, I shrugged my shoulder and he almost fell off.
I started to laugh at him but instead I just gave a bit of a cough.
The little guy looked up at me and I tried my best not to smile at him.
He looked impatient and I sighed and thought about the puzzle again
I suppose I preferred sunset because it always got a lot of attention.
The elf nodded slowly.

I made a decision and I said that sunrise was good because
It meant the start of a new chance and then I gave a pause.
The little guy looked impatient   I sighed again and he said, 
“Do you really have to do that?  Answer my question, hurry up.”
I looked at him and thought about producing one good hiccup.
The elf glared at me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the front of a cereal carton?”
His face turned red and I decided to pay more attention.
“Sunset is good because it means that soon there will be a new day 
Although it depends on when you ask me this question, you see
What if tomorrow doesn’t come, then sunset would have to be…”
The elf was losing patience.

“Are you hungry?  My neighbors brought some food from next door.”
He didn’t bite and he definitely wasn’t interested in eating a S’more.
He didn’t like it when I said I usually slept through most sunrises.
He told me I had only a minute left and then I would be sorry I joked.
He stomped his foot, pulled a pipe out of his pocket and then smoked.
The elf had a mean look.

 “Ok, I pick sunrise are you happy?”  I wondered if he’d leave
The elf puffed on his pipe, “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”
The smoke entered one of my nostrils and I tried to suppress it.
With one giant sneeze the tiny elf’s body went head over heels
He landed on one of the brownies in a plate with a few squeals.
The elf was still.

“Eat your way out of there, I have got to get some sleep tonight.
I’m sure you’re just a bad dream.”  I started to turn off the light
But I’d left the TV on and Fiddler on the Roof was playing that song,
“Sunrise, Sunset”.  I decided it was too coincidental.  I got the plate.
And I grabbed a brownie. “I love it when my neighbors cook this late.”
The elf just held on.

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I'll love you in my way

'Twas but a reptile passing by.
It flew across the deep blue sky
Why do reptiles fly so high?
I'll love you till I die.

"Twas but a cat under the moon.
Did you have a silver spoon?
Why can't cats all waul in tune?
I'll love you very soon

'Twas but a wooden legged man,
Carrying a large brass saucepan.
Why can't men do what women can?
I'll love you better than.

Why are adverbs?
What are nouns?
why do circuses have clowns?
I'll love you lying down.

Where do dreams go in the day?
What game can we adults play?
Can you or can you not say?
I'll love you,in my way.

'Twas but a verse that seemed so free.
It floated over my oak tree.
I have eyes but cannot see.
I'll love you when I be

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Don't Go Near The River

Don’t go near the river a tree has fallen down
The flow is blocked and it caused a dam if you fall in you could drown
But to us children this an invitation was
A big happening in our lives we had to see the cause
Of course we would not climb down to the tree
From high upon the bank we would satisfy our curiosity

Down Milfort Avenue we all trouped 
The excitement mounting with-in our group
The boys were there first of course
Down at the roots torn from the ground with such force
You girls they shouted stay away it was their find
Just go home play with your dolls and leave our tree behind
Well did you ever hear such rot 
We will soon show that lot

Mother’s warning soon forgot down we went to the spot
Those roots from up high did not seem so tall
But now down beside them we were made to feel small
Like gaint arms they were all slimy and wet
But we girls would conquer this climb you bet 
I never was brave and from the start
My legs were shaking and in my heart
I knew I should back down and risk being the fool
But pride would not let me so I tried to act cool

The others had climbed over and to the far side had gone
Knowing I was frightened they egged me on
Up I went onto that tree trunk
Looking down to the river below my heart sunk
What would I do if I fell in I had never learned to swim
Well it happened and into water I fell for my sins
Plunged to the bottom then up I floated gasping for air 
Again the depths called the water my death would share
With bravery someone dived in to save me from my watery grave
Trailed to the bank and with the water pumped out my life was saved

A neighbor heard the commotion and running came
Then into her house to recover my legs some strength to gain
For the walk back home to face Mum my misbehavior to declare
I really was a sorry sight but I did not care
Jumper and tartan skirt soggy the red dye running down my thighs
Perhaps she would think it was blood I had better start to cry

Water filled the fur lined leather boots which slopped and weighed a ton
My dad had worked for hours to pay for them and look what had I done
So sorry I was for myself but punishment I had to accept 
My friends there with me for support they stayed and yet
When Mum’s face through that front door appeared
They drifted away the blame they feared
In I was hauled and asked to explain
Why I had ignored her orders given so plain

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My Best Trip Ever

I was watching this man as he walked around in a store,
he was very amusing, this man was not a bore.
The music that  was playing on the speakers so loud,
really got to him, he was drawing a crowd.
He seemed to like the older tunes, 
that is when he really started acting like a goon.
He was doing the Jerk, and the Monkey too,
then all of a sudden, he was walking on the Moon.
My eyes got big, when he licked his thumb,
this man was so funny, he had come undone.
The best trip ever, was my trip today,
and as I left the store, I almost forgot to pay.

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Ralph Zimmer Acrostic Poetry

ralph my great poetic friend 
after the puff of smoke ends 
last man standing will be you, 
provider of poetic words so true 
having great thoughts, not blue! 
zimmer has a philosophical blend 
in his poetry he has started a trend, 
man of excellent Acrostic poetic flow 
ahhh, the reader smiles with a glow, 
even after closing his acrostic page 
one remembers his poetic great taste, 
friends his poetic words are very kind 
openness displays in his rhyming lines, 
every syllable count is very great 
he always write with amazing faith, 
riding the poetic highlights today 
He sits on the “Dock of the Bay!” 

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North Of Normal Norman

Far beyond the realm of time, is a place neglected.
West of what’s expected, south of what’s accepted.
North of what’s normal, east of what’s formal. 
They say to paint my picture grey, but I decided floral.  
North of normal Norman was the light that guides the doorman.
Help you see what is opaque, you have to kick the door in. 

North of Norman lives a race so jolly and so free.
Breathing air, without a care, smelling roses by the sea. 
Saltlandia’s the name, but you can’t find it on the map.
You can arrive within seconds, quick as a finger snap.
It has no edges and no size, a boundless field to tap. 

North of normal Norman is a circus; vast, dizzying array.
A kaleidoscope of colors; breathing energy displayed.
An everlasting song that bellows out the notes of love.
A place with trumpets at the gate, descending like a dove. 

You can do it without doing it, just being; that’s enough. 
You can see it without looking, check; a diamond in the ruff. 
Saltlandia, the palace of dreams, can’t stay and can’t depart. 
Doors are there to be opened up; each exit, another start.  

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registered with the Pennsylvania Dept of Poetry

registered with the Pennsylvania Dept of Poetry ®

inspected by agent #56 
this poem has been aged 
for no less than eighteen months
in an old barn, in an oaken cask
nestled in a wormed wood stall
with an earthen floor and
kept at a steady temperature
despite a few dusty sunbeams 
breaking through the slats in the wall 
with an ol' Tom cat who guards
the wood and the words
ready to howl his approval

© Goode Guy 2012-04-03

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A Witch Made Me Rich

I found a little witch,

Tied up in a ditch.

She was very surprise,

When I uncovered her eyes.

Looking up at the sky,

She let out a happy cry.

And began to talk,

As she picks up a rock,

She hands it to me -

Saying, "soon you'll be,

Very, very rich;

For saving a witch."

"I am very thrilled,

And over that hill,

Your fortune awaits you;

Much happiness too."

She thanked me that day,

Then was on her way.

I, indeed, became rich -

But never again saw the witch.

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Sleep Wonderful Sleep

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ ZZ-Sleep is so wonderful. Mostly in the morning when you don't want to get up.ZZ You lay there hoping for just 5 minutes more. And you say, "I'm going to bed earlier tonight" Well you work all day and then you go home and get on PS on the PC and you read poems. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ comments, make new comments to different ones, read soupmail, check for new contests, check contests winners, read new blogs. You eat your dinner and then go back to the PC and more PS. You keep watching the clock because you say to yourself, "In 15 more minutes, ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ I'm going to take my shower and go to bed!" You begin this around 9:30 p.m. or so. At 9:45, you say, "I'll wait until 10:00," At 10:00 you say, "I'll wait until 10:15." And so you go on until pretty soon the clock strikes 12 midnight. You reluctantly close down your PC and go ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ take a shower. You get in the bed around 12:30, sometimes later. Sometimes things are on your mind and you don't go to sleep for awhile. Sometimes you fall asleep very quickly. ZZ-Sleep is so wonderful. Mostly in the morning when you don't want to get up!!!!!!!!!!=ZZ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ ZZZZ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

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Life Throws a Curve

I can almost guarantee that this little poem will put a smile on your face by the time 
you get to the end of it:

He said he loved her and then she gained some weight Sixty pounds worth He said he’d love her more and she would look great Sixty pounds less Isn’t that the way that love always works? You’re loving each other with all of the perks Loving each other and you’re getting along Life throws a curve and you’re writing a song She told him she loved him and he grew a scraggly beard. Six inches worth. She said she’d love him more if he didn’t look so weird Six inches less. Isn’t that the way that love always works? You’re loving each other with all of the perks Loving each other and you’re getting along Life throws a curve and you’re writing a song He told her he loved her then her mom came for a stay Three months ago He told her he’d loved her more if her mom went away Thirty years or so. Isn’t that the way that love always works? You’re loving each other with all of the perks Loving each other and you’re getting along Life throws a curve and you’re writing a song She told him she loved him but then he grew pot for sale Three acres worth She said she’d love him more if they didn’t end up in jail. Three years worth Isn’t that the way that love always works? You’re loving each other with all of the perks Loving each the other and you’re getting along Life throws a curve and you’re writing a song He said he loved her then she ran over his cycle, $3,000 worth. He introduced her to his rich friend, Michael $3,000,000.00 worth Isn’t that the way that breaking up always works? Yelling names at each other, who needs the perks? No longer loving each other, not getting along, Michael’s stuck with her and I’m enjoying my song

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The Waffle House Way!

Customers are like bouquets of flowers passing through our twenty-four hours.
Breakfast, lunch, or dinner all 365 calendar days guaranteed for a full twenty-four seven.
“Hello Sir”! Welcome to Waffle House America’s favorite place to eat!
Some say we are the closest thing next to God's Great Heaven!
We have a confusing language of our own, the blabbering towers of the real “April Showers”
Service with a smile that has walked the many hard-earned extra tenths of miles,
Nothing computerized with files, just organized by our own genuine unique styles.
Waitresses are serving with hard enduring time and each crosses over a mighty fine line,
Master grill operators optimize a divine talent marking your plates perfectly aligned.
Friday and Saturday nights the party train arrives blessed coffee to the many lips we’ll revive.
Regulars and irregulars you’re served just the same, pardon me did I really get your name?
Loud ones, quiet ones, and even the picky ones strive to come back to us,
Here we bring back the basics of being alive.
Scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, diced, peppered, capped, or topped? 
So do you want them “All the way or just partly aflame”!
Young, old, or different at being indifferent just being sane, 
Especially when the “Waffle House Way” is to say the first “HELLO”!
“Morning Mam”! Can I get you your usual or will you be having something different  “TO GO”?
Brief moments of insanity with the moods that walk through our doors, 
Thank God for every single one of those Jukeboxes!
The quality of service opening an eye to the sly foxes, 
We’d really be in trouble if we sold liquors!
Foreign, military, and even civilian are in and out, 
Our servers are like the gold stored at Fort Knox.
So what can we get you today that you haven’t already had before?
 “The Waffle House Way” America shouts!
 It’s like being home because that’s what we are all about.

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Smart Jones

He is smart and crafty;loves anything in skirt,
She is beautiful and serious;dislikes anything on shirt,
He plans to woo her;and his friends double dared him,
But she remained unwoo-able;He had failed six times.
Jones is so cock-sure;Lucia is rest-assured.

"Today at the mall,this girl will fall"he thought.
"This is the day he will face disgrace from my mace"she enthused
He moves close to say something to her,
She screams"Leave me alone!,I am not interested" 
and all attentions focused at them,
everything ceased;silent reigns supreme for a while.
He shouted back"I won`t leave you alone,until you accept
JESUS as your LORD and SAVIOUR,I won`t".
The crowd hissed and things went back to normal.

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Twist of Fate

As I sat and thought
'your birthday is coming'
I smiled then frowned
realizing I have no money;
decided to go for a walk
didn't know what to do
then I found 5 dollars
and had a solution
walked up the hill
and bought a lottery ticket,
drew you a card
sealed your present
went to your house
what a look on your face!!
you read the card
gave me a hug
rubbed the ticket..
and now have a check
for 1 million dollars!
isn't it fabulous
isn't it great
what a wonderful
twist of fate

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His Spandex Shorts

   Hammond Clark, drifting in bare feet, clad only in
his spandex boxer shorts, took in the wreck of his kitchen.
"This tastes like nuclear waste", he thought as he nibbled on 
tid-bits left over from his sister Rosie's "after the gig" party. 
As lead singer for the Dire Straights she had footed 
the bill for her friends and family.  He knew he'd taken too
much"medicine",the pain behind his eyes was intense.
They looked like lunar craters and his mouth tasted like 
Listerine  soaked tissue.
    Worried, he wondered why she had left the party with
that vacuum salesman. Granted, he had a nice car, but
he looked like he just stepped off a UFO..
  What I need is a good night's sleep he  groaned. 
Plagued by insomnia he had counted every wormhole in
his ceiling a million times. How on earth was he going to
wine and dine those new clients from the convention
..and sell them on his line of spandex shorts.
Slumping in his chair, his vision blurred.. and he...........

To be continued.

For that wacky contest...

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Retail Therapy

Yesterday I found myself slumped
into the saddest of trenches,
for no particular reason
other than a new moon cycle.
Instead of flopping myself
in my studio’s armchair to write,
I drove to the mall for an outing 
probably more expensive than 
what a therapist would charge
for an hour in his armchair. 

I wandered into the shoe store—
something about leather 
which grounds me, whether
the flimsy strapless heels 
or the closed-toed pumps or walkers. 

Already lugging two bags, I meander
into the lingerie store for silk 
to accentuate my only remaining 
middle-age curves, skipping over the thongs
and hesitating at the push-up section.

I try on four or five pairs of underwear
to accentuate my butt area,
the part of a woman which shares the 
secret of her fitness, that I work on 
each morning at seven.

I arrive at the boutique who sells my favorite 
blouses, gather some more bags, walking out
with an almost terminal case of rope burn,
until I finally decide it’s time to head back to my car. 
On my way I stop, smile, and realize 
there’s no better way to fight trench warfare.

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Tuesday Night Poker

On the occasional Tuesday night,
with my mother at work
and my sisters and I 
in our pajamas,

my father would invite over
his brothers
and his friends from the lumberyard
to drink beer and play
five card stud.

I was allowed 
to greet each player and 
watch the opening hand.

Each man would arrive with something:
a sixer of canned Budweiser,
a bag of potato chips,
a metal band-aid box filled with nickels and dimes.

Benny, the stout and jolly lumberyard foreman
with his thick skinned paws and naked lady tattoo 
on his forearm,
would bring chocolate bars-
the king-sized ones 
from the candy aisle at the supermarket-
for my sisters and me.
He was like a blue collar Santa.

Uncle Guy brought his good luck charm-
a Canadian nickel.
Not knowing that it was not uncommon,
I’d be allowed to hold it and study it,
intrigued by the beaver.
My uncle would place the nickel on the table
next to his vodka on the rocks
and fresh deck of Pyramid lights
just before the first hand was dealt.

Uncle Buddy, with his Magnum mustache 
and light blue eyes,
would bring his laugh-
a hearty hoot of a laugh that would be heard,
although somewhat muffled,
through my bedroom walls
long after I brushed my teeth and was sent to bed.

I’d hear the snap and fizz of beer cans being opened
and the jingling and jangling of growing pots
as I lay in my bed,
wide awake with the caffeine from Benny’s chocolate bars.

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Pig Latin Revised

Oday ouyay owknay igpay atinlay?
Ethay irlgay oreway away essdray ofway atinsay.
Away ongsay ofway ovelay eshay angsay osay eetsway,
Idday ouyay enjoyway isthay ittlelay eattray?

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Tax Time Blues

I am all confused about income tax credits 
Now you ask about something called debits? 
This is really driving me insane with a pain. 
Do I get interest at all for capital gains? 
What can I tell you about common stocks? 
Now liabilities and stockholder’s lock box, 
Is this really a case of stretching my brain? 
All this taxes take our money with no gain. 
Balance sheet increase, this just sounds crazy 
Income statement and loss, this is so hazy! 
It feels like my eyes are just filled with grain. 
Thank you the day is done and it was no fun 
Look at this accounting spreadsheet again? 
Help me lord, now I know I’m going insane! 

Comments:  This is a free verse narrative poem.  I had intended to make it a 
sonnet on taxation.  It was written during an income tax accounting class.  Input 
was received from several students.  Some thought it was really funny, and 
others thought it was very serious. It was read by the professor the week before 
finals and was very motivational.

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Take a Chance

Go Ahead, Take a Chance and read it to the end:

Thirty years from now how would we look?
If only there was a way to look it up in a book.
I thought about it as I saw you standing there
You had an imposing look, an indignant air.
My friend nudged me forward to take a chance

Were you really what I had been looking for?
Or was I, as usual, looking for so much more?
All the questions were raised within my mind
As I studied your features to see what I’d find.
My friend nudged me again, “Give it a chance!”

I knew if this worked I’d owe her a big debt
And I wondered if I should take this big step.
I studied you once again from top to bottom
Looking for problems I could run away from.
I wondered if you were worth taking a chance.

Of course I would show you off to Christine,
I knew my best friend’s face would turn green.
She’d say, “Where were you when I needed you?”
She’d look annoyed, and I knew that it was true
And that she wouldn’t have given up this chance

I was surprised to see you were so much older
I thought to myself, or was I so much younger?
Would age really matter between you and me?
Neither of us was as young as we used to be.
I studied you again, should I take this chance?

Would we both look the same as we grow older?
Will I lean upon you then with my tired shoulder?
I smiled at you shyly and then looked around us.
My friend nudged me, saying, “What’s the fuss?
You’re not getting any younger, take the chance.”

I closed my eyes, wondering if this was meant to be
And would you, looking so solitary, open up to me?
Would I be able to get past all your built up walls?
And when I’m gone all day because my work calls
Would you be glad that I’d finally taken a chance?

Looking at you, I thought about a cold winter’s day
When the weather outside is all stormy and gray
And I’d shiver and think about turning the heat on
I knew you would warm me from dusk until dawn.
Then, I finally knew you really were worth the chance.

I shook my head out of my reverie and smiled again.
And I turned, looking at you and then my good friend,
“I think you can say this one is sold finally.”
We hugged and she nailed on the sign carefully:
“Last Chance Realty Company,  Why Not Take a Chance?”

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The Bow-Wow Song !

I was ‘ Walking ’ back from grocery shopping
When I saw something, that had me hopping…
… mad, I mean… at what I seen
… a Man treating a Dog, just like a Queen !

They rode past in a top-down car
She had shades on, like a Movie-Star
My bags dropped down, due to shock…
… Now… What She got, that I ain’t got?

… Her big ears blowing in the wind
Now, I know, that’s Man’s Best Friend
But the only reason, I figured, I was Walking
is ‘cause I need a new kind-of-Talking :

Bow-Wow!     Get my  tail to Wagging
Bow-Wow!     Ain’t too Proud for Begging
Bow-Wow!     Learn another kind of Language
Bow-Wow…    … see I can Manage …
Bow-Wow !
I’m slowly Learning How
-	    to Bow-Wow
                    and it’s Alright Now

Now, I knew, something was wrong with that Sight
Can my Bark, be worse than Her Bite?
I started to Listen to the Canine next Door
Yapping and a Howling – made ‘em give Her More…

Then I hung around the Local Pet-Shop
I Finally figured out “What They Got !”
The next Man came, I Said, “They’s Expensive,
You may as well, get yourself a ‘Mrs’…”

                    … Bow-Wow!
Bow-Wow!      Get my  tail to Wagging
Bow-Wow!      Ain’t too Proud for Begging
Bow-Wow!      Learn another kind of Language
Bow-Wow…   … see I can Manage
Bow-Wow !
I’m slowly Learning How
	     to Bow-Wow
                     and it’s Alright Now

Well… We were already happily Married, when He said, “Let’s get a Dog”
I sat up straight… went to sniffing, as silent-whistle-warnings, went off
I jumped in front of Him … and started to Tease…
“We don’t need nothing ‘round with Fleas !”

… and if You scratch behind My Ears,
I’ll make the kind of noise, you love  to Hear ! …

Bow-Wow!      Move Over Rover
Bow-Wow!      Fe-Fe, Its Over !
Bow-Wow!      This is My Growler
                     Git’ A Little Louder … Bow – Wow !

                 Bow-Wow… Wuff  Wuff  Wuff

         Carol Brown… This One’s For You Kiddo’
         And Your Great Sense of Humor (Smile)
              This Poem is From Bygone Days
(Wouldn’t You Know… The Silly One’s Always Survive)
                         Hope You Enjoy It….


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“Hi,  honey  pie.....  just got back  from  America.”
Wipe your feet.     Returned from where?
“Just seen Statue of Liberty   and  Wall Street.”
You  been away for two years and  
That’s all  you’ve done?   Saw a statue and a wall?
We thought you’d be back sooner, but 
Mum thought you’d fallen off  the edge of the world.
(One of her private wishes come true.)
“Oh, your mother’s  off her hinges..... She’s crazy.”
By the way,  ’Lumbo,  that front door hinge still isn’t fixed:
When you’ve had a cup of tea you can get off your tush  and fix it.
“Don’t tell me they’ve  got tea from Cathay so soon!  Oh no”
That  Queen   What’s-her-name  was here every week asking
For you,  thought you’d skipped town 
With her three  ships or something.
Wanted to know if you’d phoned or emailed  me.
I said gimme  a  break, lady,  they aren’t invented yet.
“Well,  honey pie,  I was in a great city with yellow cabs and subways and.....”
Oh yeah,  I’ve  heard  all  these stories about how advanced America is -
Got any photos of the place?
Oh, by the way that mapmaker you got to  draw your maps for the trip needs paying.
“Fat chance! The maps were all to hell -
I’m  telling you,  honey pie,  there’s  a  freakin’  big continent 
Blocking the way to Cathay.”
Aw get real,  ‘Lumbo,   it’s called People’s Republic of China now -
And everybody knows  you go east  like Polo  to get there, you dummy.
“Aw shucks yeah.   You know,    I  kinda thought their 
Eyes in America  were a bit too round -
And it didn’t  sound  like Chinese to  me ;  more like  Brooklynese.”
If  I was you,  ‘Lumby,  I would get round to her and give her the ships back pronto.
And don’t give her any of that  crapola  about “America”  -
Just tell her you found a new way to Cathay.
“But I thought you said it was  called the People’s Republic of China ?”
Yeah  yeah,   listen : don’t think, ‘Lumbkins.   Just tell her what I said and
Give her the ships  back, and  get the 
Hell back here fast........and you’re not playing cards with
That  Da Gama and that  crazy  Vespucci  tonight.
Them   filling your head full of  spices-and-Indies  and god knows what. 
You can stay home and fix the door hinge like I told you. 
“Ok,  where’s the tea?  Got any Earl  Grey?”

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The FireWall (A Computer-Lingo-Love Analogy

You Are My Formidable FireWall
My Memory Image Chip, Thru Flash Floods
You Search Thru and Rescue my Heart-Site…
With A Barricade that Blocks Viruses – like Blood

You Are My Screen-Saver and Life-Log-On-Line
Top-Tech-Support; My Very Own Version of Refreshed Breath
… if they could Spam or Shutdown You, from my System…
… there’d be Nothing, but Frozen, Empty-Space Left

You Halt Hard-Core-Drive – Hacking Rain
You Turn Back Spy Infiltrating, Triple Whip Wild Winds
… more than All Other Hosts/Sponsors Here
… You’re My Best Net – Blog… Faithful, Code-Friend

My Address:  is Your Laptop  -   Yeah, I’m Your fEMAIL…
Sent or Waiting @will for you.come
To Download hope, trust, most learned Tools
And File Past Pop-up - Back-Door-Programs Done

You Are My Formidable FireWall
My Free-Path and Private-Property MainFrame
My Fault-Delete, My Final Password and Future Link…
And My Full-Force, Public Domain-Flame://______!

You Are My Formidable FireWall – Forever
Finest CPU; Fearless-Forward–Pentium-Pointer to Light
GOD!… I Love This Guard-Upgrade, speaking MicroSoft Words
… while pressing Safe=Surf-Kisses and Key-Strokes at Midnight

My FireWall…
                            My  Far-Reaching…              

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Heritage Sponges

At least once a month
the stench from my kitchen
sponge gets so bad I refuse 

one more soap saturation
of this primitive sessile. 
Why is it that I can’t toss 

these replicas of marine life, 
amongst the simplest animal form, 
free of tissues, muscles, nerves 

and internal organs? After all, 
during the course of one day I toss out 
all sorts of rubbish—paper towels, 

chicken bones, cheese rind, empty cartons,
newspapers and rotten fruit, but have developed 
a deep attachment with this soggy, smelly 

two-dollar purchase. I take it into my hands 
and scan it,  as if looking for the spot 
of defending stench or to hear the ocean 

from where it came. Finally, I decide 
to toss the thing into the dishwasher 
with my daily load, to keep it vital 

a little longer, perhaps a day or a week
or at least until I’m able to establish a degree
of separation from this rectangular block.

My only explanation for this drama
is my daughter is a vegetarian and animal rights’ 
activist, and like her, I want to save all creatures.

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Stomach Flew

PEPTO BISMOL said to her friend, "MLANTA's coming over, what should I serve?"

Her friend replied, "Perhaps your ANTACID would like a PRILOZEC salad, if she has ZANTAC
of her TUMS.  If she's not hungry, you could take her to the MAAL OXspecially since you 
need to get some new ROLAIDS for your car"

"Yes, but the GAS-X so costly!  I don't know if I have enough PEPSID in my car to get there.
It LACTAID the last time I went to the store to get MILK OF MAGNESIA  for PHILLIPS.  And 
what if the lunch GAVISON upset stomuch?"

"Well, you could TAGAMENT along for her, especially if she's BEANO...full of ALKA SELTZER!"

"That sounds crazy!" said PEPTO BISMOL.

"Well, IMMODIUM giving you some suggestions!"

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I'm Just What Your Looking For

since the year of 1952 the city of st paul Minnesota holds
their annual treasure hunt the king and queen of snows
goes out to a city park and hides a medallion worth
10,000 dollars if you are the winner and your carnaville
button is register with the st paul pioneer press
which gives out 12 cryptic clues and this little medallion
could be wrapped in just about anything from diapers to cookies 
and the frigid weather here just may make you want to just
stay by the fireplace and sip on hot coco with family and friends
even lucky finder gets to ride along with the king and queen of snow
in the closing ceremony of it's torchlight parade
also watch out for the vulcans krewe for they like to dethrone the king
and leave you with a black smudges across your sweet cheeks

Tribute To The Winter Carnaville

Carnaville runs
Jan 21-31 

Also Entry For
Carolyn Devonshire's
Christmas In Your Town Contest

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I am Not Poison

There are many types,
 of poisons, like poison ivy, 
hemlock, sumac, we also
have belladonna, and arsenic.

I am not poison, neither 
have venom, nor a virus…

Why have I not, heard from 
you for such a long time…

Did I say something,
that you didn’t like?

You can call or you come 
over whenever you want…

I am not toxic, nor am 
I venomous, nor do 
I have a virus...

I am not poisonous…

By Sandra L. Hoban

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Mi camma to America wid a passion for moni en fud,
hoppin to getta rich;
en de sai det gold is founda in striz!
Mi work en work ol dei
to meke sam dollar,
en mi eat pizza, en drink vino...
mi wanna be lika Al Pacino:
a famos attor ov Hollivud! 
En me veit too mani iers, to see butiful voman 
laika Marilin Monro...whata a fess!
Whata a bodi! A Diva so sexi!
En mi wanna be laika Valentino from Italia,
to sedus ol duh pritty ladi vid mi ciarma;
en ol kiss mi...O locki Casanova!  

English Translation:

I come to America with a passion for money and food,
hoping to get rich;
and they say that gold is found on streets!
I work and work all day
to make some dollar,
and I eat pizza and drink wine...
I would like to be like Al Pacino
a famous actor in Hollywood!
And I waited many years to see beautiful women
like Marilyn Monroe...what a face!
What a body! A Diva so sexy!
And I like to be like Valentino from Italy,
to seduce all the pretty ladies with my charm;
and they all kiss me...O lucky Casanova!!

Entered in Deborah's Gucci, " Dialects make the world go around "
(Brooklyn-Italian dialect)

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Never attempting of striking it rich,
whenever my cravings give me another itch,
I'm used to a quite and simple life:
enjoying good food and sharing a coldl glass of wine 
when relatives and friends drop by;
why be someone you weren't meant to be?
Any millionaire around the globe,
sipping champagne desiring what I love?

With my beach cap pulled down, 
so that my short hair doesn't sizzle and change color,
as my light skin turns to a golden tan;
yes, I thank God for a breeze cooler than a fan!
Whole afternoons are spend on this pristine beach,
with a waterfront that a Californian will envy,
to melt away that old cliche' of vanity;
come down here...the East Coast is a wonderful shore! 

Low class, middle class and the upper one,
all share this unquenchable feeling,
to lay on the salty sand and begin to dream;
Am I talking non-sense or tackling the zest for living...
that this society has been unawarely denying??

Striking it rich is a temporary fancy,
imagining the possessions money will buy,
and many untaught temptations will materialize;
some will die by snorting deadly coke,
others squandering it on mistresses and hookers...
God, how the human spirit is corrupt  and consumed by lurid
and unhealthy desires that once were out of reach!  
And hopefully someone will ponder this,
to wake up to this gruesome, and parlous reality
and spend his or her fortunes wisely! 

What good people will do for the betterment of the deprived ones?
First give them love from the heart, then help them financially...
that's the smart way caring, of planning to strike it rich;
what's the use of looking at your glittering gold,
and not giveit  away to help anyone whose thirst and hunger
show in the sunken eyes...waiting for someone to feed their bellies!

If I ever stroke it rich, I wouldn't be here enjoying this sunshine, 
but I'll get out there and search for the needy and helpless ones,
and stop the selfishness and madness that money provides;
if I share my good fortune with them, others will follow my example,
and a real change will take poverty everywhere in our world!
Follow me, and search for everyone give them back their precious life!


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Dire Straits met Rosie in her kitchen, wearing only a pair of Spandex boxer shorts.

As friends, they had gone to Hammond, IN  to see the UFO Convention.  There they
were amazed by exhibits about lunar craters and wormholes, as well as how some 
scientists  advocated using nuclear waste as a new type of rocket fuel.

Afterward, they went to wine and dine at Tid-Bits, a bar and grill where Dire had once 
did a gig as a DJ.  

Tonight, however, Rosie was bothered  by insomnia.  Whatever medicine she took to try
to alleviate it just left her drifting in pain.

When Dire came in, he reminded her of her appointment the next day with two vacuum 
salesmen.  "Perhaps it's your nervousness about that meeting that is keeping you awake", he 

"You may be right Dire, and the running around today didn't help any.  I'll call them to 
reschedule the appointment."

They sat down on the sofa to watch some TV, and Rosie nodded off to sleep during a 
commercial for the new Listerine soaked tissue.

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JACK DANIELS met JIM BEAM at the CANADIAN CLUB  to discuss their upcoming trip on the 

CUTTY SARK.  They were planning to go south for some SOUTHERN COMFORT, but when the 

ship had a fire, they thought they might have to SCOTCH their plans.

JOHNNY WALKER, who had a disagreement with them over their SLOE GIN game, wanted to

give them both a SAKI in the nose.  "VODKA ya think you're doing?!  cried JIM and JACK.

"It's not like EARLY TIMES!!"

CAPTAIN MORGAN came over, and BRANDY, the waitress, brought his VO to their table.  He 

tried to calm things down by talking about his last trip.  "How BLUE CURACAO was...and the 

mornings were alive with the TULLAMORE DEW!"  He said.

"You've got a lot of interrupt us like this!!"  They RUMbled.

Before a TRIPLE SEC had passed, the CHRISTIAN BROTHERS were there to calm all the 

DEWERS down and restore a HYPNOTIQ sense of peace, ALIZE for the time being.

For their efforts, they were awarded with shouts of SHIRAZ and the thanks of the king of the 

club.  He was not wearing his 7 CROWN, but instead, his CROWN ROYALE.

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Getting into the Christmas spirit,
by examining my introspection
and making new plans for the future;
and sparking up your imagination...
could anyone imagine me dressed
as Santa Claus, who never has the minimal time
to watch a log consumed by a crackling fire?
Think again, I could be that Saint Nicholas so bold! 

Prejudice is not a part of this Christmas Season,
all kinds of people, of different ages and races, 
celebrate it; and it may vary from country to country
with traditions as far as Saturnalia or Yuletide...
that was a time when pagans started this festivity,
and with the birth of Jesus, the Christians
adopted these traditions as their own...
so should we object and put them aside?    

Getting into the Christmas spirit,
unpacking decorations for my new Christmas Tree, 
from boxes that waited too long for this day of joy;
and even my toddler, Jack, comes downstairs tripping,
handing me Grandma's favorite star, which
she had hidden away into a treasure chest so jealously,
to place on the top of this forest-scented pine tree...
when we all gather and sing," Silent Night."  

Getting into the Christmas spirit, 
adding, not taking away names from my long list;
and even though these are tough economic times,
I plan to be generous to all without feeling the pinch!
Give the very best of your intentions,
either in gift or in warmest embrace;
give and be content to catch that infant's smile in the distance; 
the tender smile of the Holiest Child, who will give of Himself!  

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Vignette-MEAT & NO VEG

In the Dandy lived a Desparate Dan,
Perhaps the world's strongest man;
A brawny westerner with stubbled chin-
His favourite dish was cow-pie,
Eaten whole...I tell no lie !

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Smart Woman

It was the evening before Thanksgiving,
so off to the biggest store in town I went, for a few items,
I needed to complete my Thanksgiving Feast.
Everyone was grabbing, and hurrying to get out.
I was totally out of my comfort zone, 
for I hardly ever come here,
except to buy a few things, you don't find anywhere else.
Then there he was, lost as a goose in a thunder storm,
his wife had played a severe trick on him.
A list he held in his hand for the items she needed.
I heard him talking to himself, so I stayed close behind him,
just for the entertainment.
Marshmallows, does she want the big ones or the small ones,
oh no, couldn't put that down, so I'll buy both.
Cherries, now where are they, probably way over on the other
side of the building.
Just then he turned around to look at me,
am I blocking you, if so I am sorry, but I don't know 
where anything is, and with this crowd in here, I can't
even think, much less find anything.
No, I said, you are fine, I am just as lost as you are,
that's when he told me, my wife played a cruel trick on me.
She wanted to come early, and get this over with, but I told
her, what is the rush, well, I will never say that again, ever,
and if I get out of here alive, you will never see me pushing a buggy
in here again without my wife.
I don't know how she does it.
I thought to myself, smart man.
We have to give his wife credit, smart woman.

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Red-nosed Roy

Roy is such a jolly ole soul
who enjoys riding mule deer,
helping Santa at the North Pole,
most of all, spreading good cheer.

This year was different,
Santa decided to take vacation.
He informed Roy of this event
inquiring of his participation.

Roy shouted out with glee;
he became very ecstatic.
Calmly, he did agree
not to be such a fanatic.

He wondered what he would drive.
His Harley was in the shop.
How would all the gifts arrive?
He didn’t want Christmas to be a flop.

He thought of Ralph his mule deer
but remembered he couldn’t fly.
Would there be Christmas this year?
How would mule deer take to the sky?

Pounding his head, he had to think;
he couldn’t take Rudolph or the sleigh.
Santa would raise such a stink.
“Nitro jets; he shouted, that’s the way”.

He went to the shop; got to work.
Hammered and nailed, sawed and fussed.
When he was done; turned with a jerk
saying; “I hope it doesn’t combust”!

He strapped Ralph to a huge wagon
all jets ready for the ride.
Ralph lit like a fiery dragon.
Roy’s red-nose a beaming guide.

Parachutes galore fell from the night sky,
dropping one by one at house doors.
Roy happily gave a wink of the eye
and quickly got back to his chores.

Giving the last bundle a kiss, 
Roy sent it on its way.
Happy that he did not miss
and Christmas was not a delay.

I heard Roy shout as Ralph fired away.
“I delivered them all, who needs a sleigh”.

Copyright © 2008 By Caryl S. Muzzey

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Freelance Contractor

Freelance contractor

I’ve been a ghost for centuries.
Qualified by experience.
No diplomas or degrees
 but plenty of self confidence.

  Although I died quite suddenly.
Beheading does not take too long
I just accepted readily
the choice of sides I made was wrong.

I lived my life as best I could
 like other men I made mistakes.
 And did not do the things I should
 One wrong decision all it takes.

 Although a failure as a man.
 I am a most successful ghost
 I do the very best I can
 Although I am not one to boast.

I take a pride in what I do
 I can appear and disappear
(I’m one of the accomplished few)
 to fill a humans heart with fear.

I’ve haunted stately homes with pride
I’ve walked abroad without my head
Through solid walls I quickly glide
 I am enjoying being dead.

Alive I earned but small respect
 in fact nobody noticed me.
But now in my ghostly aspect.
 I’m treated most respectfully. 

 Some day I know I must move on
 but I can feel no urgency.
Although my dearest friends have gone.
 A ghost is all I want to be.

I’ve been a ghost for centuries.
I find it suits me very well.
I do exactly as I please
The skills I have I freely sell.


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is the name of my wild
and incorrigible cat...
down the stairs she scurries
to keep intruders off my door; 
and she, with her sharps claws,
challenges the most vicious dogs,
who would like a match
on my newly carpeted floor...
without letting me breaking up the fight!  

eat your food and grow strong,
they will be back with their groan,
but your meows won't do much;
let me teach you how to win a fight
and keep them off for good...
more faith you must have in me!
come here and jump in my lap;
Faberette...there's  no need for fright!

They haven't bothered you for a week now,
they must have sensed a change indeed;
and like friendly dogs they play and crawl,
instead of pulling off your spotted fur!
And cautiously you mingle with them with minimal fear...
can cats and dogs in friendship suceed?
But a word of caution I should make you aware of,
not all of them can change
and remain tame for long...
Faberette, be slicker than they are!

on my leather couch lies
under a warm blanket...
I pat her, and her feline eyes
flash the warmest glow; and I couldn't be
more proud of this wonderful pet,
keeping me company and share moments of joy!
And on her birthday, I even buy her a kitten toy!
O Faberette,
my adorable cat!


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Goddamn Cat

Goddamn Cat
Fuzzy and fat
You stalk the night
And my feet
Now fleshy shredded wheat
Was it love you were after

Goddamn Cat
Orange and black
You crap in a box
Litter on my socks
Do I hear kitty laughter

Goddamn Cat
My wife’s cuddly gem
You piss the bed
Sleep on my head
Why am I on the sofa

Goddamn Cat
Evil’s feline friend
You bite my hand
Howl to no end
I know you have no father

Goddamn Cat
You chinchilla rat
You plot my death
Steal my breath
May I adjust your collar

Goddamn Cat
In my favorite hat
Shedding on my clothes
Only heaven really knows
Who said happily ever after

Goddamn Cat!

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Don't Make an Old Woman Mad (repost)

As the day slowly fades into a much welcomed and peaceful night.
   The sound of crickets and bullfrogs serenade me as I turn out the light.
Well I told Jesus a quick summary of the day I had.
   I said Lord I’m not perfect, shoot today I plumb got mad.
Well I was sitting at a red light waiting for it to turn green.
   When all of a sudden this little old lady walks right in front of me and I get this 
urge to be mean.
Walking with a walking cane she was moving pretty slow
   So I tooted my horn thinking that might help her go.
I must have startled the old thing cause she hit my hood with her cane.
   It set off my air bag, broke my nose, and I went insane.
Next thing that happened I jump out of my car, hollering, and holding my nose.
   I guess I scared her again cause she starts beating me with that cane from the 
top of my head clear to my little toes.
Now I’m on the ground and this ninety three year old grandma turns into Rambo.
   Shoot she ain’t stop beating on me yet, and I ain’t got no place to go.
Long about then this cop pulls up which I was glad to see.
   At least I was till he slapped them handcuffs on me.
Well he sat me in the back of his car while he talked with her first.
   I didn’t know what was going on but it gave me a chance to get well versed.
He finally came over to me and he looked at my face and I thought he was going 
to crack.
   I had cuts, bumps, bruises all over my face from that eighty pound old womans 
He said son do you need an ambulance or can you make it on home.
   And the next time you want to scare some old woman you best have a hard hat 
on your dome.
Lord now don’t you start laughing too.
    Well I’m going to bed I ain’t got nothing else to say to you.

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     by Amy Swanson   11/2008

A little something to make you laugh ;)

Alarm clock didn't ring this morning;
Overslept - and now I'm late!
(but I would have stayed in bed,
had I known what lay in wait!)

Weatherman said "sunny skies"
I headed out the door;
no sooner had I stepped outside,
when it began to pour.

Water dripping off my nose
I got into my car,
turned the key, to my dismay - 
I found it would not start.

So I did the next best thing,
and called the cab in our small town
He said that he was covered up;
eventually, though, he'd be on down.

While I waited by the curb
I counted up my cash...
when suddenly, I heard a noise - 
a terribly loud crash!

The taxi driver was just fine
... but his cab fared not so well...
The front of it was caved and crashed
and he began to yell... and yell.

Thinking I could take the bus
(in my haste I broke a heel)
Bus just left as I arrived 
today requires nerves of STEEL!

Getting later by the minute
shift at work about to start;
thinking fast, my eyes beheld
an old abandoned shopping cart!

Oh what luck, oh happy day!
I hopped on it with glee,
and shucking off the other shoe
I rode it down the street.

I was doing pretty well...
until I saw some lights of blue.
The officer walked up to me and said,
"I'll have to ticket you."

"Please, kind sir, just let me tell you
what all I've been through today,"
as I related my sad story...

he shrugged, and fined me anyway.

Stranded now, without my cart, 
and wondering what to do...
idea! I saw a skateboarder
whom I quickly hobbled to, 

my hair was falling in my face
and makeup smeared my eyes...
"I'll pay you 20 bucks," I said, 
"if you'll lend me your ride!"

He thought it over, gave a shrug,
and happily took my money.
Overjoyed, away I went,
who cares if I looked funny?

Breathlessly, I finally rolled
into the parking lot
I tucked the board under my arm...
by now I was distraught

for my boss came out to meet me
and his face had turned quite red.
I tried promptly to explain
he only stood, shaking his head,

and pointed at the company clock
that sat above the office door
I turned and looked - to my appal,
I saw that it was half-past four.

Long story short, I came back home
and nevermore will be returning.
My ex-boss had made it clear,
a new job I would now be learning.

So here I sit, with pen in hand,
and classifieds upon the table;

next time a day begins like that,
I'll just stay home and watch my cable! :P

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Demonic Irony

I sat on a merry-go-round from, to, and of Hell.
Goblins floating round and round,
Gremlins going up and down.
I sat on the merry-go-round from, to, and of Hell
Playing "Let's make a deal." with the devil himself.
And as his smile turned into knives,
I could see the infinite expanse of lives he had claimed,
like an insurance company running your life,
like an investor running your business,
like a lawyer running your troubles,
but this man led all of the above for millions.
There was suffering in his eyes,
but not his own.
You could tell how many tears have been shed,
but not his.
His hands were hooks,
"all the better to hug you with",
more like all the better to ravage my heart.
His nose was an expanse of two deep holes,
"all the better to smell you with",
more like all the better to sniff up my soul.
His ears were large and bat like,
"all the better to hear your wishes",
more like all the better to hear my supersonic whispers of all my deepest fears.
He spoke:
"Your soul is a small price to pay for true happiness, what do you desire?"
Right there I made my wish,
and before I could barely finish,
a contract pulled up and I scrawled my name.
Keenan MacKay.
After a short while he showed me those knives again,
those reflective blades that refuse to show the whole picture,
a metallic and deceptive smile.
And I smiled back.
For with my wish,
my plea for ultimate power,
I struck him down.
I made him afraid.
And as he cowered in the corner,
I took back my soul and walked away.
But not before I scratched at his feet.
"The Keenan giveth, and the good Keenan taketh away."

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Charging Around

A giggle and screech filled pond
on the crushed gravel path 
a sheen of sweat forming 
on my medditeranian nut browned skin;
waylayed was I by a hitch-hiker. 

The gnat maintained a steady oribit
about the circumferance of my head,
wether held there by some unknown power
or the monumental magnetic magnitude of my brain;
none will ever know.

Arms swinging at a frantic pace
it seems impossible to believe my pinwheeling form
was unable to dislodge this bugger, 
keeping a geosynchronous orbit around my noggin.
Yet, the likelihood of a tag team 
of insectoid astronauts seemed slim.

As the silken breeze went weaving amongst 
the pines and rustling withing the pond weeds
armies of these pin pricks of horror swarm
attending summer clad fishermen, beet red two year olds
and there hippopotomus shaped mothers in the drink.

The doldrums of August have begun in earnest,
as the black flies decend, probing their universe,
persistant and provoking as the humans they oribit.

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Don't Make An Old Woman Mad (repost)

As the day slowly fades into a much welcomed and peaceful night.
   The sound of crickets and bullfrogs serenade me as I turn out the light.
Well I told Jesus a quick summary of the day I had.
   I said Lord I’m not perfect, shoot today I plumb got mad.
Well I was sitting at a red light waiting for it to turn green.
   When all of a sudden this little old lady walks right in front of me and I get this 
urge to be mean.
Walking with a walking cane she was moving pretty slow
   So I tooted my horn thinking that might help her go.
I must have startled the old thing cause she hit my hood with her cane.
   It set off my air bag, broke my nose, and I went insane.
Next thing that happened I jump out of my car, hollering, and holding my nose.
   I guess I scared her again cause she starts beating me with that cane from the 
top of my head clear to my little toes.
Now I’m on the ground and this ninety three year old grandma turns into Rambo.
   Shoot she ain’t stop beating on me yet, and I ain’t got no place to go.
Long about then this cop pulls up which I was glad to see.
   At least I was till he slapped them handcuffs on me.
Well he sat me in the back of his car while he talked with her first.
   I didn’t know what was going on but it gave me a chance to get well versed.
He finally came over to me and he looked at my face and I thought he was going 
to crack.
   I had cuts, bumps, bruises all over my face from that eighty pound old womans 
He said son do you need an ambulance or can you make it on home.
   And the next time you want to scare some old woman you best have a hard hat 
on your dome.
Lord now don’t you start laughing too.
    Well I’m going to bed I ain’t got nothing else to say to you.

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Pass us by

If he made it so I can see you why no glance?
I see another and another, but there is no chance
You see us walking
But did you look up in the trees? 
How stupid can we be?
Our feet are harmonious 
Our stash inside
However we may be different 
You don’t even glance you just hide
Its all our problems 
Containing our will
To scream
Or lack there of and therefore will remain sight
For that lack there of we cannot take flight 
For these white walls will crumble
We will all stumble
Into the great depths of our thoughts
Trapped like a rat in a cage
Forever inflamed in this summer sky
Or this winter dirt
Do you see the sun reflect our growth
To grow up and see our differences 
But how will we know?
We all look the part
So I throw it back at you
The constraining will 
To scream

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With the hoe's crown

Tinkerbell is such a hoe
She never hung out with Joe
Most of the time she hung out with Peter
Who never bothered to read her
Text messages or E-mails
Cause they definitly were sent to females

Peter never had time to work
because she was always out of her shirt
So Peter grew up and moved away
Because Tinkerbell always had time to play
With other boys that she saw when she floats around town
Looking for her hoe's crown

Now after Peter had done his growing up
Tinkerbell eventually caught up
But she was still wearin that crown
And still floatin around town
And Peter saw her and all her actions
Which led to his violent reaction

Tinkerbell went down in her sparkle and mist
Because Peter accidently caught her with his wrist
Then she saw her creeping up from behind
So she reached for her mist, which she just couldn't find
And she saw the look of Peter's satisfaction
And there was no action, but for Tinkerbell's contraction

Eventually Tinkerbell was found
But not without that hoe's crown
That she always wore around town.

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Rasta Ring n Ride

Rasta ringnride
Hop up; get inside
Travel roun da town
Hear some funky sound
Me bus me pride an joy
Me music don't annoy
Me keep it in me head
Me sings it in me bed.

I travel all roun town
To ferry sick and lame
The people phone,
I pick them up
No other bus the same.

I drive me bus for Africa
When I'm in Sollihull
I drive me bus for freedom;
me bus in wondeful !

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Mansions in the Sky

The Stars lit up the skies and nothing could I see,
Except these huge Mansions that fly in the sky.
Swirling winds picked me up and carried me high.
Making trails in the clouds it was just me.
It was breathtaking just to be,
Afloat the top of mansions that fly.
The Moon was bright and the Sun a bit dry.
They were huge and magnificent to oversea.
 Mansions in the sky that fly above it all.
Mesmerized I went in and found no end.
None were too small.
None occupied, not even by a friend!
Mansions that fly fill a brilliant sky,
All emptied but not by I!
© Copyright: Ann Rich  2006

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Superman and Clan(felled by LEX LUTHOR'S hand)

I would like to put on my shoulder
Nuclear Kryptonite that makes a SUPERMAN colder
Weak in the knees while chaos is at ease
Helpless Man of Steel who cannot do what he please
Luthor has let loose the BOMB from his reign
Smiling all the while as the citizens feel the pain
Lois Lane was struck DEAD by a missile that hit her head
Jimmy Olsen took Polaroid but even he could not avoid
Perry white,is motionless,still in his brief
Who ,will never again,exclaim:AND DON'T CALL ME "CHIEF"!!
The entire Metropolis is experiencing searing heat 
From a Rogue Knight who likes to share his Plight
Wonder Woman,flying over in her invisible jet
Steve Trevor still yearns to be her one and only pet
Who is in denial of the calamity out there
He, HOT and HORNY, wants to continue their naughty affair
The Flash is racing all across Town
reading the dire headlines that he has just found:
Every ounce of super power is being upstaged by a thunderstorm shower
The sky is bright with orange delight
DC and MARVEL heroes felled by communism this very night

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I Hold No Fear

Tomorrow comes and oh God how it goes!
Do I care, why should I lend all of my spares? 
I’ll never know what tomorrow holds!
“Oh my”, how could I, what is it that I need to do?
Blessed by God, sure he loves me but what about you?
Why today and why tonight I really don’t care! 
I know that I love me no matter what my eyes can see!
Take it all but hold the very last thought that we share! 
My God, My God how I hope you all know what it is that you truly believe!
“Oh my”, capture and redeem my mind!
Complete my being that lives alive inside of me!
God you love me, these eyes have no doubt with that which they can see!
“God”, you know you have done all of this to me! 
Oh how you have loved these things that I can see!
Sheltered, protected, yet, condemned by that which I know you believe!
If I could, I think that I would, but oh God how I do stand here!
Come and get me with all of that, which I know you believe! 
Please God, just come take my all of me! 
I am still here my Lord and I hold no fear!
Tomorrow, hmm just another day for me to believe!
Oh well! Guess I’ll just have to see it through!
Ask me anything and I will tell you! 
I think we all know what it is that we should do!
Escaping the reality of what really should be, 
Oh God, I am so very here do you know what tomorrow will be? 
I’m still here my Lord and I am holding absolutely no fear!
Each morning the Sun rises to approach a brand new day. 
No doubt that I do love me!
Embraced with the thought that you have come just for me, 
I’m engulfed with this moment that I have finally achieved.
Oh my, I know that I could because I am coming to you. 
Where are you my Lord I just need to be so very near!
God you do love me! Oh how I knew that you always would! 
I’ve walked so many miles with you each and every single day, 
And I am still right here my Lord and I hold no fear!


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people's lives would be less chaotic and probably more sane
if on the road of life they would just stay in their lane
one shouldn't try to preach the gospel if from God you didn't get a calling
and you shouldn't attempt to go mountain climbing if you have a fear of falling
you need to stay out of the kitchen if you don't know how to cook
and don't aspire to be a fisherman if you're too squimish to bait the hook
don't dream about being a model if you can't even hold a pose
and don't take the sanitation worker's test if you have a sensitive nose
forget about becoming a doctor if at the sight of blood you pass out
and don't try to be a therapist until you know what you're talking about
God gave each of us His love, free will and a functioning brain
so find that vehicle that's just for you and learn to stay in your lane

stay away from a law enforcement career if you're too scared to carry a gun 
and a firefighter is not the job for you if into a burning building you're not willing to run
you might not make a good writer if you don't know how to spell
and being a referee is not your thing if you don't know when to ring the bell
don't strive to be a Navy seal if you don't know how to swim
and being a seamstress might not be up your alley if you don't how to sew a hem
and when you find yourself in a job that doesn't fit you have only yourself to blame
for you went against what God had in mind for you and you didn't stay in your lane

you might be a bettter long distance runner even though you wanted to be a sprinter
your game might be more powerful as a forward and not being the team's center
you'd probably be more successful doing the backstroke instead of being a high diver
and you might be more effective as an instructor and not a NASCAR driver
you might be a better player for the team as a tight end and not a running back
even though it's been your life long desire to be the team's quarterback
and your life might be more fulfilling if you go on to become a school teacher
and don't think that everyone you see in the pulpit was meant to be a preacher
so while driving on the road of life try to stay in between those white lines
and then seek the Kingdom of God first and you'll probably do fine
search inside yourself for that unique gift from God that has only your name
and in whatever vehicle in life you drive just make sure you stay in your lane

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Vignette-FAT BOY,DIM

Billy Bunter was a lad
Before fast-food became a fad
Ever ready to pass the buck,
Overweight,down on his luck-
Decided to 'borrow' his school mates'  tuck.

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Funny Face

She looks kinda cute even when she is mad
yet, so composed when things turn out bad. 
How she smiles even in deep, sweet slumber 
that I love watching whenever I am with her.

Kids get sick, turns me into a nervous wreck,
she just smiles “Relax, hon, get some sleep”
and while I’m snoring totally lost to the world,
she lovingly nurses them with a heart of gold.

Next morning she whispers “How’s my man?”
what have I done to deserve such a woman!
I smile thinking her children really total five
the oldest of whom is fast approaching 55.

When I erupt like a volcano she allows me
then soothes it with “Are you okay, honey?”
“Now let's talk about this like sane people” 
leaving me chastened, a choleric old fool. 

I often wonder how she lasted long years 
living with my juvenile, explosive temper. 
I just count every blessing, this nut case 
married to a lady I fondly call Funny Face. 

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I was driving down Eighteenth Avenue in Bensonhurst
in my scash-a-bang Chevy Chavalier...and I was having a wallear for a hero, 
but I didn't wanna wait on line like those noisy kids from Mexico;
I tried to jump the line, but duh tall, mean-looking boss yelled at me,
" Get back on line, skinny molink...I don't like dis kinda of weisenheimer...
you're just another duh-ta-duh! " I wa so hungry I could have eat'n a cow,  
and want'd give him a piece of my silly mind! " Oh, my God...he sounds like those tough 
dudes from The Sopranos! " You got a loud mouth, wack! " I yell'd back 
" Don't you mess with a goomba! I said with the loudest voice " Oh, my God,
you get me so mad...I just wanna my meatballs hero and go! "
The chubby man with a face fins said angrily, " Hear me out...don't you tawk to me
like dat, I axeya in a nice way, so go back on line and wait
like dey do! Don't you laugh at me like I'm tell' you a wacky joke!"
He freezes my words...I can't tawk and with a huge hero
in my hand, I quickly run back to my scash! 


I was driving down Eighteenth Avenue in Bensonhurst
in my-beat-up Chevy Chavalier, and I had a craving for a sanwich,
but I didn't want to wait in line like those noisy kids from Mexico!
I tried to jump the line, but the tall, mean-looking boss yelled at me,
"Get back on line, skinny guy...I don't like this kind of wise are
just another idiot! " I was so hungry, I could have eaten a cow, 
and wanted to give him a piece of my silly mind!" " Oh, my God...he sounds like those tough
dudes from The Sopranos! " " You got a loud mouth, wacko! " I yelled back,
"Don't you mess with a clown!" I said with the loudest voice " Oh, my God,
you get me so mad...I just want my meatballs sandwich and go!" The chubby man
with the moustache said angrily, " Hear me out, don't you talk to me like that...
I'm asking you nicely, so go back in line and wait like they do!
Don't you laugh at me like I'm telling you a crazy joke!" 
He freezes my words...I can't talk and with a huge hero
in my hand, I quickly run back to my old-beat-up car!! 

Entered in Deberah's Gucci " Dialects make the world go 'round "

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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Ain't Love Grand ?


The night had just begun to fall.
     I never knew you felt this way at all.
The things you said I had never heard.
     How could it hurt they’re only words.
These words had teeth and a painful bite.
     And the way she used them was to her delight.
Spouting such painful and hurtful things.
     As I looked at her I envisioned fangs.
The words she used would make a sailor turn red.
      And why did she say I wish you were dead?
What caused this fight, this lovers spat.
      I know she’ll blame me she’s good at that.
Is this what all couples go through.
      If this is love it wreaks of pooh.
Just six more days and we’ll be married a week.
       One more like today and it may be divorce I seek.
I think maybe she’s calming down her face is not quite as blue.
       Now she says she loves me, what do I do?
Well she turned out the light and gave me a kiss.
       Is this what they mean by married bliss?
Goodnight all!

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The Art Of Growing Old

As the days become shorter and cooler,
   And my age climbs a little farther up the ruler.
Life has taken on a new and wonderful meaning.
   I’ve finally reached a point in life that many take to be demeaning
I am an official member of the Old Timers Club,
   It’s an elite and prestigious hub.
There is just one rule to join in this niche,
   You have to be as old as a rock and still able to scratch your own itch.
No dues are charged we just gossip a lot, 
   About what’s wrong with so and so and the ailments we’ve got.
How many medications you’re on or what new thing the doctors have removed,
   And what side effects they have and whether they’re F.D.A. approved.
Sometimes we reminisce about family till someone starts to cry.
   Then we just sit there rocking thinking on days gone by.
There is one true saying, if you live long enough you too will grow old.
   So far it’s not a crime but they’re working on that I’ve been told.
This exclusive club is known for its heartache and pain,
   But a lot of love is shown as long as you remain.
It’s something we’ve earned and we have the scars to show.
   That growing old is not always the best way to go.
As long as we’re able to gather or talk,
    And know that some one still cares whether we can stand and walk.
I guess maybe it’s support this thing we seek.
    Cause growing old alone truly makes life reek.
I think loneliness is the worse fear of all,
    Just waiting out your days and longing for somebody to come by or even just 
The young act like old age is a contagious disease,
   They might catch it if you happen to sneeze.
I remember when depends was a state of mind,
    Not something you wore around your old behind.
With that little thought I think I’ll close for now.
     That’s about all I think they’ll allow

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Ted And Fred In Our Heads

Check in Ted,
Check in Fred.
Office space in the nervous system,
and the employees are nervous,
one wrong move and kablamo,
they are splattered on the ceiling,
on the floor.
Brain matter would be everywhere,
but no matter,
the show must go on.
Impulses convulse and pulse here and there,
and Ted and Fred are in control of it all,
in their three by eight inch stall.
Cabinets of memories long forgot,
newer folders of memories just got.
Things taught and learned,
Fred turns to Ted and asks,
"Ever wonder what's outside these walls?
What's past our three by eight inch stall?"
Ted could only answer what he knew,
"This is it Fred, 
this is all,
all we'll ever see,
either me or you.
Now go check the hamster, 
I think he's fallen off his wheel,
I have to deal with a fax,
that informed me of a troubling fact,
that we left the lights on with no one home,
that the gears are turning with no result."
Fred turned away to check on Benny,
Benny had indeed fallen off,
dead of a whooping cough.
The end of Benny marked Ted and Fred's certainty of being alone.
So now the two lone brain running businessmen check out.
Swipe out Ted,
Swipe out Fred,
Benny's not the only thing dead....

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Hello tomorrow
Goodbye today
Indelible inklings
Left yesterday
Will I find my keys
Or lose my car
I hate the bus
My mind’s ajar
God I love to sleep
Especially at night
Please tell me my dog
Just turned on the light
Nothing like a pillow
To soften a numb life
My arm’s asleep
When did I get a wife
Eyelids like anvils
As heavy as Sisyphus’ rock
I guess they lift weights
It’s but a tawdry five o’clock
Tears of delirium
Rolling down a wilted head
“It’s only Saturday, honey…
come back to bed”

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The Fishin Trip

The old campfire was pleasant as we sat by its flame.
   Talking about how things have changed, hardly anything stays the same.
Talking about the price of gas, now that got a rise.
    How you used to could fill up a tank for a ten dollar bill, that brought tears to old 
Bobs eyes.
Bob said he’s about ready to buy him a horse and be done with it.
   I said Bob you wouldn’t even know which end of the horse to put the saddle on, 
let alone make it fit.
He said yeah like you would, reckon I wouldn’t but least I know where to poke the 
   That got him tickled and he said you’re probably right, can’t you just picture me?
Old Jake finally had to put his two cents in, he said Bob get you one of them 
hobby horses ride that to town.
    Well I could see old Bob getting a little agitated, he chunked some more wood 
on the fire and gave Old Jake a frown.
Bob said to heck with horses, gasoline and all that other bull, let’s talk about fish.
   Bob declared, bet I catch the biggest & probably the most, me and Jake pop off 
about the same time, don’t you wish.
I said you know what guys we’re going to sit here all night blabbering and ain’t 
none of us gonna feel like wettin a hook tomorrow.
   As we decide to turn in old Bob says, dang I forgot my piller either one of you 
got an extra I could borrow.
Goodnight guys, busy day tomorrow, get your rest.
   Come six o’clock tomorrow evening, we’ll see whose catch is the best.

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You never had much for a dad, I understood.

He’d left you and your mom for a girl, which he always had to have

I thought we had something serious, I thought we could last

With you I felt that I had no ties in my past, which was until you left me the 
weekend before last

I never will understand why you left me for that type of a guy?

I guess it’s because you found out, you just liked getting high

Whenever you shot him up, you felt that you could fly

Which in other cases you thought you could touch the sky,
And I’m guessing that’s why you probably died!

Jumping from a nine story building isn’t cool, especially when it’s in front of an 
elementary school

Its laws of physics baby, why couldn’t you see?

Jumping from that window wasn’t going to help you fly to the Mediterranean Sea!

You should have known that, but I don’t think you cared. You where so high you 
probably forgot to be scared while free falling a hundred and eight feet out of mid-

Why you wanted little kids to watch your body splat, bets the hell out of me, who in 
their right mind would do that?

From what I heard it only took an hour to clean up the mess, but during that time 
a lot of kids past out at recess!

Poor little jimmy, he defiantly got the worst, he was swinging on a swing when he 
saw you fall
He fell off and broke his jaw!

You were just like your dad you wanted something knew
You chose him over me and you thought you could fly? 
You flew just like a rock falling from the sky!

My lesson learned! Don’t pick drugs over anyone, you’ll fall out of the sky and 
that’s never fun!

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Driving Test

She’s taken the driving test so many times
That the trainer allowed her a license
She’s already had several small accidents
And now she feels she’s in a crisis

She bought a new car, shiny and black
That she brought in to show us today
However she won’t drive it during the week
She’ll only drive in on a Sunday

She tells her long stories  with tears in her eyes
And I loathe at the hour she arrives
Cause she wont stop pretending it’s somebody’s fault
And our colleague just shrugs with a sigh.

“She shouldn’t be driving“, they say while she’s gone
“I know“,  I agree with concern,
“But tell that to her“, I say with a grin.
“You’re right, the girl just doesn’t learn“.

The last that I heard she ran off of the road
As she came to the off-ramp and cornered
And now she needs everything all overhauled
And she’s scared that they’ll give her a loner.

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My Little World


I feel so small,
   In the spectrum of it all.
No more important than a mere speck of dust,
   Lost in this matrix with no one to trust.
With no will to climb higher, 
    Scared of being burnt as I near the flames of the fire.
All trust has vanished throughout time,
    Putting your trust in another can often leave you feeling like slime.
Emotions can only blind you,
    And keep you from doing the things you need to do.
Your heart is your most tender of garments, 
    Especially when worn on your sleeve exposed for all to torment.
And if exposed for too long it is said it will turn to the hardest of stone,
    Isolation is wrong for the heart can’t stand to be left all alone.
So there we go again the circle is complete,
    Trust or isolation without companionship we’ve met defeat.
And without trust no companionship will be had,
    So forget what I just said I think I’ve just gone mad.
A white coat a padded room, 
    A safe place for brilliant minds to bloom.
It’s never to late to get it right,
    At least that’s what my doctor tells me most every night.
Said my mind just needed a rest,
     As he shows me pictures for some kind of test.
See ya later,
     Irish tater.

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I was shaving in the dark
hoping not to leave a mark
when I heard a voice outside of me 
Say, “hark!”

I first thought “odd remark!”
as naked I lay, stark
inside my bathtub,
shaving in the dark

“On a task you must embark”
continued the voice which first said, “Hark”
“We need you to go right now
to Central Park”

I then thought, “what a lark!”
& felt my curiosity spark – 
I decided then and there
to go ahead and hark

I wasn’t sure what harking was,
but I was game to try,
& doing what any good harkee does,
I tossed my razor by,
got quickly, slippery, out of the tub
and grabbed my towel to dry

But the harking voice said, 
“Wait a minute,
we do not want you dressed;
we want your body
and all your senses
by spring-eve winds caressed;
you must go down
to Central Park
(no one’s there, it is quite dark)
and stand before us naked,
and know that you
are truly, ever blessed”

“Okay,” said I,
“I’ll try.”


Stepping lightly through the dark,
I headed off to Central Park
& quickly reached my given destination

(On the way I passed a shark –
swear to God, I heard it bark –
or was that noise my own imagination?)

Now here I stand,
a naked man
& wonder what I’m doing

I obeyed a demand—
no, make that command,
& now that action I am ruing

For to tell the truth,
I feel quite uncouth
standing naked for the viewing

Of one & all,
both short & tall
(Dear Lord I hope I’m snoozing --

Then this would be
a fantasy,
from which I’ll wake refreshed
to find it all 
within my mind
‘cuz I’d gone to sleep undressed)

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The Missing Socks

I could not find a pair of socks
To wear to school today
And if I missed the bus again
There would be hell to pay

I thought that I looked everywhere
I looked inside my drawer
I checked a bag from last week’s lunch
In the corner on the floor

I found some change inside my jeans
I found some chewed gum too
I found a sock that I had left
balled up inside a shoe

And when I went to put it on,
I realized something sad
The hot pink sock just did not match 
My uniform of plaid

My mother called from down the stairs
“The bus is almost here
You really better hurry up
And get your butt in gear!”

And as I searched the house, I thought 
“Oh man, I’m really dead”
Then suddenly it came to me,
There are socks beneath my bed

I climbed the stairs so quickly
I was almost out of air 
I put my socks on really fast
And briefly brushed my hair

I grabbed my hat, my pack, and coat
And I was out the door 
But when I got onto the bus
My jaw dropped on the floor

For even though I made the bus 
(And with no time to lose) 
I shuddered with embarrassment
I was not wearing shoes

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The Predicament

 The rain is falling with such voracity as I poke my head outside to peek.
   The wind is blowing so hard I find it difficult to speak.
The wind just shut my door it took it from my hand.
   What will I do I ponder as I stand?
I tried to open my door but I couldn’t get a grip.
   As I tried to turn the handle but my hand would only slip.
While I stand here wondering what to do.
   There’s not a dry spot on my body I’m soaked clean through and through.
All the doors and windows are locked what a predicament I’m in.
   The wind is getting cold I have icicles on my chin.
Talk about luck the rain is turning to ice.
   Man I wish I hadn’t of stuck my head out I’d be in my house all warm and nice.
Even if I broke a window the burglar bars would keep me out.
   Ramming the door would not suffice for it’s much to stout.
 And to my nearest neighbor who is only eight miles away.
   I holler and I holler but he doesn’t hear a thing I say.
I see a car coming down my lane.
   I hope it’s not my imagination, I hope I’m still sane.
Well lucky me he saw my wave.
   And as he passed me by a wave he gave.
Now I’m getting real upset.
   And a few choice words to him was let.
Wait a second what was that buzz, buzz, buzz?
   Why it’s my alarm clock waking me up, it was, it was, it was.
Boy that was a nightmare I just had.
   I’m happy it’s over I’m mighty glad.

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Drunk again

I went to a bar with Goose… 

I got drunk again

fell off my stool…

damn I got drunk again

I met this hott chick…

too bad I got drunk again

I kissed a fat girl…

I must be drunk again!

they kicked me out of the bar…

because I got drunk again

I threw up on myself…

I hate being drunk again

finally got home the next day…

doors locked and wife screaming

Sorry but I got drunk again!

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Horror Comes To Town

Way back when,
Living with my father Harry,
One Halloween I had an idea spark,
Seemed to me it'd be a lark....

Thus the tale of When Harry's House Held
The Horrific Holloween Hex..from Hell

Early 70's, my favorite time did approach,
For scary Halloween tricks and pranks,
I intended to truely host...

So, I spent some time, with tools and wood,
Made a faux- coffin, looked pretty good!   
Placed a self made dummy inside,
His head a bar-room prop for "Old Grand Dad",
This was gona be fun for me to be had,
Dressed him up, looking better all the time,
Stuck a big knife in him...
Guess it had been a vicious crime,
Ketchup blood stains,
Covered all in clear plastic wrap,
Placed it in the living room,
Just inside our front door,
But I wasn't done, I planned much, much more...

Forgive me, if I've already told this tale,
I can't remember,....oh, what the hale...

Had my girlfriend dress up like Morticia,
Black dress and more,
Put on my ill fitting black suit,
Almost ready for the door...
Powdered our faces with white talc,
Held a candle holder for the day
Put on eerie organ funeral music,
Still got more to say....

Set up two chairs near the "coffin",
My parents became the grieving mourners,
Waited for our victims to arrive,
Knew they'd remember this Halloween,
As long as they were alive....

Didn't take long,
Till the first kids came....
I opened the door slowly,
They would never be the same.....

Each group of children who knocked,
Ran out in great fright....
Oh, my golly, this gona be some night!!
Some dropped their bags of candy...
Boy I was "cleaning up"
The only house around,
Whose candy quantities tripled
by the cup!!

Then some frightened children,
Returned with many a wary parent,
Didn't believe their stories,
Thinking "No Way! They simply daren't!!"

Well, I escaped jail,
really don't know how...
But it left me with this tale...
That I tell often, as now.

Details | Narrative | |

Toy Isle

The department store was busy tonight, and
as I approached the toy isle, mercy, what a sight.

Toys on the floor, torn out of the box,
parents unconcerned, all I could do was watch.

Kids playing happily with their new found joy,
papers, and boxes scattered all over the store.

Screaming, and hollering, tears, and snot,
a mad house for sure, these sweet little tots.

Red faced daddies, trying to sneak away,
while pitching a fit, in the floor their child lay.

Clerks trying desperately, to straighten the mess,
but to no avail, these kids were putting them to the test.

I just stood there, and watched for awhile,
while in the buggies, their favorites were piled.

If you get depressed, and need a good laugh,
find the toy isle, but steer clear of the crash.

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Fightin Makes Me Hungry


His old pickup truck was parked in front of Kevins Bar again.
   While he sat inside drinking with an old time friend.
As he got up to pay his tab he noticed something wasn’t right.
    He turned around and there he stood looking for a fight.
Well old cowboy wasn’t no where the meanest man around.
    But when it comes to tough, he’s the toughest in our town.
As the fight broke loose the stranger hit old cowboy with a cue.
    Old cowboy grabbed that stranger by the face and then the blood it flew.
They danced around a little while, till cowboy set him up.
    Then he popped him between his eyes and slapped him like a pup.
The stranger there was looking weak and I think he had his fill.
    But old cowboy said when you mess with me you’re gonna pay the bill.
He grabbed the stranger by the neck and headed for the door.
    He put his boot in his behind and left him on the floor.
Monday nights are always slow as cowboy left the scene.
    Old cowboys dog sat in the seat licking himself clean.
Scoot on over you no good for nothing worthless old mutt.
   Let’s go home and get something to eat as he patted his old gut.
Don’t know what it is about fighting but it sure brings on my appetite.
    As he cranked up that old pickup truck and headed off into the night.

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I Like Cake

I like cake, any kind at all,
give me cake, forget the chicken and slaw.

I know my shape is changing fast;
how much longer will these cravings last.

Blueberry Streusel or Chocolate Devine, and 
even Coconut too; I'll eat my cake before my beef stew.

Maybe one day I'll leave them behind; these tasty treats
of every kind.

Goodby cake, goodby gut, soon I'll be wearing my jeans
that I love so much.

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What A Day

It was just about midnight in the bright of day,
on a cold July morn in the month of May.
When out of no where came such a howl,
the turkey next door turned into a cow.
This ain't happening, it can't be real,
what in the world, must be a fire drill.
Then my donkey got up to run,
his pants fell down, they came undone.
Snow started falling, black as clear,
I jumped in my skates , and put them in gear.
This ain't happening, it can't be real,
now where did I put that bottle of pills?

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I count the numbers on the foods I buy,
trying so hard to stick to my diet.

Forget the chocolate, that I love so,
if I ate just one, I couldn't have anything more.

Carrots are fine, I can eat them all day,
This roll I have, must go away.

Vacation was a nightmare, when I dressed for the beach,
nothing I put on, looked good on me.

So here I am, counting them again,
while deciding on the cookies, I hold in my hands.

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The Funny Farm

The love we shared is now no more.
    With bitterness she slammed the door.
She said I’ve had enough I’m through with you.
   I’m tired she said of the things you do.
You have no respect for me at all.
   And when I talk to you it’s like talking to the wall
She said you go ahead and lead your life of fun.
   You’re nothing but a low life and a son of a gun.
Those weren’t the exact words she used right then.
    She called me everything from being my on kin.
That was just a warm up here she comes again.
    All of this started over me letting the cat get in.
Honey I said as I ducked her punch.
    I guess maybe this ain’t a good time to ask you to fix some lunch.
I knew she was mad I could tell she was hot.
    But why is she trying to hit me with that cast iron pot.
She got me on the run as I cut my trail.
    Throwing our dishes as her booming voice it did prevail.
As I locked myself behind the bathroom door, I heard the breaking of another 
    She started beating and a hollering and predicting my fate.
As I looked around I realized what I had done.
    I just laid down on the floor waiting for her to go and get my gun.
I laid there for an hour or two.
    Not really sure just what to do.
Well I finally got brave and took a peek.
   I didn’t see her around so out the door I did sneak.
Into the kitchen there she stood with a smile on her face.
   She walked over to me and gave me the longest embrace.
She said I made my little sugar burger a cake, his favorite kind.
    She said I’m sure glad I married you you’re such an awful good find.
Oh and by the way that moody thing the doc says it will take awhile but I will be 
    Going through the change just a normal day.

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Magic Salve

As we talked about life and the problems we have,
    I pulled out of my pocket a can I call Magic Salve.
You rub it on wherever the pain hurts the most.
    Believe me it works, I don’t mean to boast.
Whatever the ailment or the problem you have,
     It’s a guaranteed cure all this wonderful salve.
Warts or psorasis or what ever the need,
     I guarantee this to work, guarantee it indeed.
A broken heart it can cure but you have to beware,
     Don’t use too much cause it can remove hair.
An upset tummy nothing else can compare,
    Rub a little on the pain, by this salve you will swear.
From rheumatism to arthritis, from pneumonia to the flu .
     Just rub a little on you is all that you do.
From the colic to the croup, you can forget chicken soup,
     And should you get constipated it can even help you to po__ ?
Buy a small can or get the family size plan,
     Either way you’re a winner it’s the best in the land.

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Poor Potato

Supper tonight was really a mess,
the microwave cooked my potato,
twenty minutes, no less.
Smoke was billowing, from behind my back,
I sat there eating, wondering why the room was
turning black.
Then I remembered that potato all alone,
I opened that microwave, and my potato was gone.
Nothing but the peeling, and it was hard,
now that potato is a possums supper out in the yard.

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A convenience I have, always at my touch,
I swipe you once, and you deliver so much.

Things of need, and my things of want,
an attempt to control my urge, but sometimes I don't.

Always on time delivered to me,
that shocking reminder, of my shopping spree.

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The grass has turned brown.
   The leaves have all fallen down.
The air has taken on a different feel.
    My allergies are back, oh where is that pill?
My eyes start to itch.
    My nose runs with a twitch.
This would be my favorite time of the year.
    If it weren’t for all the pollens around here.
As I stifle a sneeze.
   That was caused by this breeze.
My inhalant is near.
    Eyes are a blur I wished they were clear.
I feel like a sap. 
    Maybe I need me a nap.
My head wants to pop.
    Food tastes just like slop.
Did I mention this was my favorite time of the year?
    I can’t go outside I’m confined to right here.
The coolness at night.
     Oh such a delight.
The tissues are near.
     To keep my head clean and clear.
To the pharmacy my wife I have sent.
     To find me some relief is her intent.
Just six more months and it will all be okay.
     Then I can get out and play.
But until I see that day.
      Inside I will stay.

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Me and Old Booger

Why his old head is so hollow you can see him think.
   Onlyest  time he ever makes any sense is when he takes to the drink.
And that don’t last too long caustit puts him right to sleep,
   Kinda like me whenst I go to count’n them sheep.
Well old Booger never claimed to be the sharpest knife in the drawer,
   Shoot he just now figgered out where he’s possed to sit when drivin de car.
He’s been want’n to get hitched but there ain’t no single kinfolk around,
  And besides they gots to be some of the ugliest women I’ve found.
Well me and ole Boog went in to town, just kinda piddlin I guess,
   When out front Langtry’s hardware  stood this ole gal, and I think somebody 
done shortchanged her on that dress.
Why old Booger said that wuz the pertiest thing he ever did saw.
   Said he wuz gonna marry up with her and take her home to meet pa and maw.
Well old Booger started to put the move on this sweet little ole thing.
    He asked her right there on the spot, said I’ll even buy you one of those 
wedding rings.
Well she turned him down and it made poor ole Booger cry.
    She told him she wuz a transvestite that wuz the reason why.
Well poor ole Booger wuz kinda like me
   He didn’t know she wuz a he well this( he-she) fooled him and me.
Well we headed on back cause our luck done went sour.
    And besides it wuz getting onwards of the drinkin hour.
Should you ever find your way back here in these hills.
    Bring your on jug and have it filled at one of our local stills.
Shine down here the best you’ll ever find.
    Just be careful of the women some of em are the funny kind.

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Ode to the Nut


I’m not crazy I’m insane.
   Kind of goofy, have no brain.
Goofy is as goofy does.
    Can’t remember who I was.
Happy yes or happy no. 
    Here I am and there I go.
Looney toons is just my way.
    I’m in my world and here I’ll stay.
Simple, simple what’s the deal?
    I like things that are not real.
I just lost my peace of mind.
    I look and look but cannot find.
If you see it passing by. 
    Bring it back so I don’t cry.
I’ve got crayolas and paper too.
    So come on over and I’ll draw for you.
I have to go they told me so.
    Back to my room is where I go.
The people here they are no fun.
     Treat me like I’m a crazy one.

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How Did I Get Here?


When I woke up my face was stained with tears.
    And I felt the wrinkles in my face caused by many hardened years.
My hands aren’t mine they’re much too old.
    What happened to my hair of gold?
My teeth aren’t mine they’re falsified!
    This is not me I cried and cried.
And what’s that thing in my ear.
   I took it out now I cannot hear.
And this body I’ve never seen before.
   I wonder how it got through that door.
Where’s my feet they hide from me?
    As I look down my tummy is all I see.
Those glasses on my nightstand I wonder who’s they be?
    I tried them on and my oh my they surely do fit me.
A nurse just walked into my room and handed me a pill.
   And sat me in a chair one that had four wheels.
She took me down the hall aways and placed me on the pot.
   She said to me we do this everyday, you must have forgot.
I guess it’s real what I feel.
   I wonder if I can have another pill.
A senior citizens home, how come I’m here.
   When did I get old I asked the young dear?
She said you’ve been with us quite a spell. 
   Don’t you remember the stories you used to tell?
She said you’re just having a senior moment but it will be alright.
   I’ll lay you back down and you can rest till night.

Details | Narrative | |


I found this man, swimming in my soup,
stepping on rakes, and playing for loot.

Every now and then, he will pop right up,
reading my poems, until he has had enough.

So swim all you want, cause I like it too,
your friend in Alabama, thanks you.

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Who made idiots?
They are everywhere,always blocking a doorway,
just like they all took a leave of their senses today.

Hogging the elevator, always pretending they don't see,
never moving once, or say, "excuse me."

Where did they come from. Dumbsville USA, or
maybe dropped from a space ship that went  astray.

They are even at the drive-thru, I saw one today,
arguing with the teller, he wasn't going to pay.

One was pumping gas, and the sign clearly read,
don't smoke while pumping, or you could end up dead.

Even on the highways, well here they come,
riding your bumper, acting so dumb.

Giving that sign, to get you out of their way,
I thought they were showing me their IQ, 
like I really cared anyway.

Really, if you know where they all come from,
would you please let me know,  because I've had just about 
enough of dumb.

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It Slipped

I'm gonna do it now

today's the day I will

I slowly grab the razor

placing it to my throat

feel it slide ever so gently across my skin

then I feel it cutting in

that old familiar sting

the blood begins its seeping

but i continue with my task

cutting away at myself

quickly Im feeling tired

and place the razor upon its shelf

I hate it whenever I shave 

and accidentally cut myself

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A narrative poem in the charlax stYle 

Benjamine: he hath an oder oh mye qyeen 


Qyeen: yes he smells just like my camels butt 


Benjamine: eye meanteth 

He has a poet in toe 


Qyeen: eye have a blister in toe it is on my left foot 


Benjamine: the poet in TOW is the bard 


Qyeen: a splinter from a board why are you so hard today to understandeth 


Benjamine: he brings the bard in tow to proselytize to readeth prose and poetry 


Qyeen: why would he carry the board that the splinter came from to show me his 
toe would sufficeth 


Benjamine: confusion reigns today 


Qyeen: He is my Asian cousine. 

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Suddenly Life Was A Headache

Once life was fun, back when I was young.
Always on the go, and depression I did not know.
Then came the challenge of raising my kids, 
trying to understand the weird things they did.
Then came divorce, now this was the curse,
suddenly my life was thrown in reverse.
Then came the bills, pilling up high, so many
of them, I would sit and cry.
Then my mirror started playing tricks on me,
wrinkle after wrinkle was all I could see.
Then my health went flying downhill,
nothing but doctors and so many pills, not to 
mention a lot more bills.
Then came reality, I could work no more,
my life was a mess, I was so poor.
I know something better is waiting somewhere, but
then I ask myself," Do I Even Care?"
Of course I do, or I would not be here,
nursing this headache, and wiping my tears.
Hanging by a thread is my way of life, but I am
thankful, I am still in the fight.
I think someday I will write a book, I have much
to tell about the path I took, but in the meantime,
if your life is similar of the same;
Get your boat ready, because it's going to rain.

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Running Hot

We had a car swap at our house today,
I got the one with a remainder to pay.

Everyone was happy with the one they got,
but then my brother called,  his ran hot.

Off I went to carry him mine, 
looking for parts, he could not find.

I loaned him mine, so he would not have to walk,
and now I only have my telephone that's all.

Maybe tomorrow he can find what he needs,
just my luck, trying to do a good deed.

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Ron Has A Potion

Ron has a potion, he calls it Magic Salve,
just rub it on, and it burns like, wow.
Now he really says, this stuff works,
rub it on, right where it hurts.
Ron are you kidding, or is this real,
send me a truck load, if it's the real deal.

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Laundromat Sonata

Thump, thump, thump
must be sneakers in the dryer.
Clunk, clunk, clunk
washers changing cycles.
Musaks in the laundromat
make it impossible to read that
novel which had you spellbound,
but you brought it and found
the metallic clattering kachung, kachung
of the change dispenser
(souding like winning slot machines)
is not music to read by.

Thump, clunk, kachung
Wet mops that are hung
to drip on the pop-splattered floor.
Running, yelling kids or
zonked-out junkies bid
for your attention.
Attention!  Attention!
We're doing laundry in here,
this is not a reading room
with soap overflowing,
and the clothes still wet
after the dryer ate your last cent.

Thump, clunk, kachung.
Lets get finished with this chore
and get the _ _ _ _ out the door!

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Baby makes one

Fear is all that I sense and feel it is near. Why must I anguish over my pain with 
nothing solid to gain. Once again I check my hat, ruffle my clothes and feed the 
cat. I stare at the wall and can't remember if I ever felt this small.  The phone 
rings with a jar and I almost fall of my chair, and then I run a hand across my 
hair.  I pickup the phone and with a groan and with anticipation I spit out the 
words is it a boy or a girl and with a smile I close my eyes and twirl.

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Braggin Rights

 I’m from the great state of Texas, the biggest and the best.
   No other place is like it, be either east, north, south, or west.
I went to California, to see the golden state.
   I even seen that bridge out there, one called the golden gate.
I realized really quick, I wasn’t happy here.
   So I turned my truck right around, and for Texas I did steer.
As I reached El Paso town I stopped and had a bean.
   And admired the senoritas there, the prettiest I think I’ve ever seen.
I kept on heading east I guess, I drove for days  and days.
   Big D is just up ahead, the lights are all ablaze.
The Cowboys must be playing home tonight, I think I’ll check it out.
Victoriously they won their game, but was there any doubt.
  I left that town, heading south to Corpus, the city by the sea.
   I longed to see the sandy shores of Padre, a place so dear to me. 
I guess I must be getting close, I smell the briny air.
   Corpus is the place I love, with people kind and fair.
I stayed and got my rest, I stayed for two whole nights.
   I decided San Antone I’d visit next, and just check out her sights.
I wanted to see the Alamo, but saw the dome instead.
   What was I really thinking, twas rocks inside my head.
Laredo was next on the list, lowest point on the Texas map.
   Upon this map I’m looking at I see a two inch gap.
If I left early enough in the morn, I should make it in a day.
   Well here I am in this border town, reckon here is where I’ll stay.
It’s good to be back home again where the scorpions and rattlers play.
   They’re just a common site for us we see them every day.
I once had me an old snake nearly eight foot long, I taught him how to fetch.
  He must a been getting old cause he’d tire real quick of this game of catch.
One day I threw it out I guess a little too far.
   He got ran over , poor old thing was killed by a car.

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Love Hurts


I know she’s right and now I’m left all alone with my broken dream,
     I wanted more than just a house I wanted us to be a team.
I guess growing old together sounded too much like a joke,
     Words of love would make you choke.
I wished I’d known then instead of now,
      Maybe things would be different for us somehow.
Well that water has run under that bridge there is no turning back.
      For hurting others I give you credit, you’ve got the knack.
Your venom has flowed like wine from you,
      Just open your mouth and watch it spew.
When love grows cold it gets colder than ice,
      I still remember when you were so sweet so kind so nice.
Well those days are dead they are dead and gone,
      Call up who ever you talk to all day on the phone.
 Take what you want but please leave quick,
       The sight of you is making me sick.
With that little note she just slammed the door,
       But she’ll be back she’ll want some more.
Was I right or was I wrong,
       She’s back again that didn’t take too long.
She’s got her finger pointed at me,
      Wait a minute that’s not her finger but a gun is what I see.
She just keeps walking closer to me, then I see her finger pull on the trigger,
      My heart starts beating faster as my eyes got bigger.
Then a flame shoots out from the end of the gun,
       A fancy lighter she was holding made just for having fun..
She said did I scare my little Pookey Bear?
        She cooed so softly as she stroked my hair.
Lets go out and get a bite, 
       I know this new restaurant with food that’s out of site.
Arm and arm we’re heading out,
      I done forgot what this fight was all about.

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I Won, I Won, I What?

To all my friends here on the soup,
    I just won the state lottery and here’s the scoop.
With all the millions that I won today, 
     They said I could pay all the taxes in various ways.
It seems somehow the money I won, 
     Wasn’t quite enough when they were done.
I can make monthly payments on what I owe.
     How come if I won I don’t get no dough?
He said it’s like this, the man was slick.
    Try not to win, now that’s the trick.
If you had all that money you’d be just like us.
    We’re just trying to help you so what’s the fuss.
Well now I guess I’m really confused, this is the only game you win to lose.
    But wasn’t it fun the numbers you pick they let you choose.

P.S. I really didn’t win.
          I just made this up I fibbed again.
       Shame on me, but what the hey.
          It’s something to read any old way.

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The Mystery Of Darkness

The mystery of darkness, each has a tale,
afraid to go out, I have been there as well.

Many a night, as I sat all alone,
my house so empty, outside muffled moans.

Who could it be, why have they come,
the doors all locked, I checked every one.

A scratching so near,  are my screens being cut,
maybe it's a dog, my neighbors silly mutt.

Flood lights beaming, looked like a football field,
telling myself, this can't be real.

I looked out the window, and out of a shadow,
waddled a little raccoon, such a cute little fellow.

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Too Much To Do

Take a shower, and wash my hair,
now shave my legs, careful there.
paint my toe nails, and finger nails too,
moisturize everything, still got an hour or two.
brush my teeth, and whiten them too,
while deciding the outfit, I wish I had something
Now do my makeup, and style my hair,
pick out my shoes, which ones do I wear.
Spray on some perfume, now not to much,
keep it simple, barely a touch.
I think I'm ready for my night on the town,
but if you want the truth, I had really, rather
be wearing my favorite nightgown.

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Watchful Eyes

A little bit of rouge, gotta have rose red cheeks,
every now, and then, back to the dresser she sneaks.
Plenty of eye shadow, make those eye lids blue,
giggling, and in secret, she is up to something new.
Almost three, and copying her mom,
this should tell us something about, from whom they learn.

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Yard Sales

We started the day bringing stuff out,
an old worn out chair, and a matching couch.
Stuff we don't use, and stuff we don't like,
those old rusty wheel covers, and that bent up bike.
Two broken lamps, that have no shades,
and a table with scratches, you made.
Clothes by the tons, who wore them all,
some too tight, and some too short.
Look at the shoes, did I really wear them all,
ugly is not the word, I really had gall.
Pots, and pans, ugh, they are a mess,
I need new ones, I must confess.
Left over junk, from family, and friends,
always at my house, they seem to land.
Yard sales are work, but I love them, I do,
maybe next week, I'll be seeing you.

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Baby Got Rap

Late one night I went for a walk,
my husband and I, just had a fight,
really convinced, it was all his fault.

Out on the track, I was huffing around,
looking real weird in my night gown,
talking to myself, walking round, and round.

Two policemen were passing by,
I tried to explain the gown and all,
but on that radio, they made that call.

We have your wife, and she is going in,
you can sign her bond, and she can go then,
I knew that man was wearing a grin.

Downtown we went, with me in the back,
I screamed real loud, I left my purse at the track,
so they turned around, and took me back.

Finally we arrived at the station door,
I never had been in there before,
they put me in a cell with someone who snored.

Finally, my husband came to get me out,
I tried to tell him how it all came about,
but he just laughed, saying out loud, baby got a rap.

Not funny to me, but I'm glad he came,
those two police, thought I was insane,
but I did it to myself, I had no one to blame.

Now, I never go out by myself,
that night downtown, um, bad memories it left,
we laugh about it now, but then, miserable I felt.

The moral of my story is,
stay home.