Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
I thought I would just say
Have a Happy Thanksgiving Day!
For all of You Souper people are
In my estimation, the ones who care.
It is wonderful to have your comments, too
When I write something here for all of you.
The joy of reading your works and words
Goes well beyond the things I've heard.
And in the short time that I have around you
Friendships through words abound, too.
I say that you are the cheeriest bunch
With whom I have never sat down to lunch.
But I'll say a prayer of thanksgiving for all
And hope that the Lord hears my call.
For tomorrow when we remember the good things in life
I'll count all of you in, with a thought none too brief.
With you I feel like I am a true part,
So, I say "Thank You All, from the bottom of my heart".
She’s out there chasing a cricket
Through bush, through shrub & through thicket
Together they hop
But when she gets it, she just wants to lick it!
A cat whose vet took his eye
Just cannot quite understand why
His eye’s been enucleated,
3-D vision reduciated,
So now, he keeps an eye out for an eye
Ya gotta keep limericks loose
Think green eggs, or perhaps Dr. Seuss
They’re structured, it’s true,
But they’re also a zoo
Whose tenants are all on the loose!
I frolic in fountains of words
Overflowing with serious absurds
Each poem I write
Wakes up and takes flight
Joining angels and faeries and birds
You ask that we write a good limerick
How to do so, I haven’t a glimmerick
So I struggle and frown
Teaching poems to clown
So a smile on your lips will be shimmerick
A cat with a mouth full of mouse
Brought her feast right into my house
She played with her food
Who was not in the mood
To be a banquet of mouse in the house
The nightmares that shadow my sleep
Stampede the proverbial sheep
Right out of my mind
When I try to unwind
I find my appointment with sleep hard to keep
In her search for original truth
She met people unsavory and couth
She knitted and purled
But only unfurled
Yarns told by new age and old youth
Cat, suddenly pink,
Drinks her water from out of the sink
She looks so absurd
Since she’s been de-furred
I really don’t know what to think!
If one and one is two and two is four,
And there’s only two ways to go through a door,
Then, is earth up or down?
And, where is down town?
These are questions we need to explore!
A was that is an is
Tried to mind my biz
But I sent it packing,
Its presence was lacking
And I don’t have time for such shiz!
A couple who lived in Los Lunas
Loved the wide desert sky’s crystal blueness
They’d stare at the air,
Over here, over there
And rejoice at the feeling of newness
A cat with a very fat gut
Found it easier to walk on his butt
He’d drag it around
Across carpet and ground
And use it to slam the doors shut
Said the Missus to her dear Mr. Otter,
“There’s something I think that you oughta
Do before we get old
To protect us from cold –
You oughta make the hot water hotter!”
The ghosts who live up in my attic
Make noises that sound much like static
I’ve tried to send them away,
But they’re here to stay,
Those staticky ghosts in my attic
What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men
We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge
Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.
The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.
Gathering grey clouds
Whip crack of frothing thunder
Is this Africa?
Water licks your feet
Far cry from the beating sun
Desert sand to sea
Forking River Dam, Illinois
John M went camping and took his friend Timmy. Off they went to the Forking River Dam. They
went to the Forking Campground near the Forking Dam. They decided to visit the Forking City.
They had to go to the Forking Market. It was near the Forking Gas Station closer to the
Forking River bending near the Forking swamp turning into the Forking Quicksanding place
there where they turned off the Main Forking Road. They turned Forking right there. There
Forking left turn as well but they had to get to the Forking Store. They bought some
made in the Forking Brewery. They were still in Illinois. Forking, Ill. Ill is the
Illinois, so we aer all Forking, Ill. For now. The men were Forking camping so they bought
Forking beans made at the Forking beanery. The Forking Meat CO. provided. The Olympic
branch of the Mount Olympus Water CO. Donated the Forking Water. They went to the Forking
River Motel to steal the soap and the towels. They paid for the room and took two Forking Dam
showers. They kept the Forking Dam Ashtray. It has a picture of the Forking Dam River. The
Forking Dam Police were searching for the Forking Dam Campground to arrest the Forking
men. They were not from Forking at all but just out of townies they had come to Forking
Fish for Forking Fish. They went to the Forking Boat Dock and rented a Forking Boat the
Man in charge of the Forking Boat Dock said you out of townies speak with Forking tongue. But
money green in Forking Dam. Good to see you Forking men. The Men in Forking Dam City are
Forking gay. The Forking City Future Club is Oddfellows Hall.
Eye am Forking, Ill. From all that Forking Fish they gave to me the nibbles and the bites
all tied up in Forking Ville. They said that visit day is FrYdaY at the Forking Prison
have a Forking Fish fry for religion they want me to go to Forking, Ill. And visit.
This is a new word in the name of the Infamous Pinkee....I still say that it should be
added to the British and/or American Dictionary! There is an ongoing campaign to
implement this change fore it is detrimental to the survival of the total alphabet system.
This, I do in the name of the Pinkster....The only problem with this word is that it's spelling
seem's to change every time that it is used, according to the setence structure. I bet that
Scholars' will fight over this for years.....
Ishchehaduta do what you want
I can ish-chu-data
The way that I feel
I can isch-cu-duta
When I finally need a break
Or climbing up a hill
That's that old isch-ca-dut-a
Some-time's it could kill
I can isch-chu-du-a
When I'm eating a steak
I can even isch-cu-duta
When it is all just a big mistake
That's the chance we take
I can ischcu-duat
When I say that I love you
When I am alone and feel blue
I truly isch-ca-duta-doo
Especially for you
I can isch-cu-duta
When I am talking on
This is the making of
When I just want to play
I do seem to isch-ul-ax
When I just want to relax
I isch-cc- to the max
When it is time to pay
The "ISR" their tax'
In such a seriou's way
As a fact of the matter
I wish that I could Is-cha-duta
Again to day
Only this time that I ish-co-duta
It won't be for play
The Med between us
The gusts make me think of you
Storms... it’s just like home.
Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp