It’s a mother-in-law’s right, her prerogative
To ‘drop in’ on her son almost any time,
But a mother-in-law should always be prepared
For almost anything she may find.
So, Mother Cready dropped in unannounced;
But as she approached her son’s front door,
Suddenly it opened. “Ta Da! Do you like my happy dress?”
His young wife stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.
“Oh, my word!” Mother Cready exclaimed with surprise.
“Why are you naked? Are you insane?”
Just as surprised, the young wife pulled her inside.
“Please, Mother Cready…if you’ll just let me explain.
You see, when Mac has had a rough day,
When he’s been under a lot of stress,
Sometimes I meet him at the door
With a smile and a kiss in my happy dress.
It always relaxes him and makes him happy,
Then he makes me very happy too.
It works for Mac and me, Mother Cready;
Maybe it would work for you.”
“We’re too old for such.” scoffed Mother Cready.
“Perhaps if we were young like the two of you.”
But, on her way home, she decided
She was definitely going to try it too.
So, she bathed and put on some nice perfume,
Fixed her make-up and her hair.
She was thinking some very sexy thoughts,
But she had to hurry…no time to spare.
She heard her husband’s car in the driveway;
And as he approached their front door,
She threw it open. “Ta Da! Do you like my happy dress?"
She stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.
She saw a little grimace cross his face,
But that was not the worst.
Then he said, “I appreciate your happy dress, my dear;
But maybe you should have ironed it first.”
ALTERNATE LAST VERSE
“Well…your ‘happy dress’ could use some ironing;
But my birthday suit could use some starch.”
He kissed her. “Bet you and I can work it out.”;
And off to bed they marched.
A slight hint of consternation was in her voice,
“Why did you tell those people I’m deaf and dumb?”
“I never said you were deaf, my Dear.”
She laughed, but I kinda felt like a bum.
Hell. It was just a joke.
One evening, she asked, “Will you love me if I get chubby?”
I responded, “Of course I still love you.
It would take much more than pounds and cellulite
To make me fall out of love…it’s true.”
Hell. It was just a joke.
“Would you remarry if I die before you?” she asked.
I said, “No…probably not…I’ve been spoiled by you.”
“But you’ve been a great husband. I think you should.”
“Whatever happens, happens is the best I can do.”
“If you remarried, would you play golf with your new wife?
And would you let her use my clubs?” she demanded.
I calmly smiled and said, “Your clubs are safe.
You see, my Dear…she’s left handed.”
Hell. It was just a joke.
Then, she whined and whined about her butt.
I responded, “Want to knock some inches off that ass?
It may sound strange, but I heard it works….
Rinse all your panties in Slim Fast.”
Hell. It was just a joke.
The next day, I readied for work, took ‘undies’ from my drawer.
They were engulfed in a fog of white, why I didn’t know.
So, I asked, “Honey! Why did you put talcum powder on my shorts?”
She slyly smiled, “That’s not talcum powder. That’s Miracle Gro.”
Hell. It was just a joke....I guess.
So, what is my wife’s most endearing feature?
Her sense of humor.... there’s no doubt.
Always a smile where angst or anger might have been,
A smile I never want to be without.
Watch this scene with both eyes and try not to blink C: -->
I stood there... silently
Like a predator near prey
I sneak behind YOU
You weren't even aware of it!! Ha-ha!
I made YOU jump hIgH
Like a startled hare
I chuckle and smile
You know that mischievous smile of mine?
Your reaction was
PRICELESS - you were so upset
But YOU forgave me
Well...I'm flattered. . .
We laugh'd together (just like the good times)
In a chorus - our volume
Picked up extreme sound
Believe me - I could hear our laughter from a mile away!
But I'm glad I did
My best to make you giggle
Wouldn't you agree?
The sun was shining brightly
As we drove around his land
And showing me his kingdom
First, before he asked my hand
We stopped for cake and coffee
It was almost half past two
And that tall man was shaking
When he told me I love you
He gently bent to kiss me
His lips began shaking fast
I thought this was the moment
That he would ask me at last
We climbed inside his Audi
Driving slowly to his farm
I thought this was the moment
When he gently touched my arm
But no, he was just helping
Me kindly into the house
We both walk in together
Was he playing cat and mouse
At six o’clock he brought me
Out to watch him milk the cows
And sitting on the stone fence
I watched as he fed the sows
I never thought he’d ask me
As I sat perched on my thrown
Then came, will you marry me
And his farm became my home
I know that’s not romantic
In this land of poetry
But standing in the manure
Was better than bended knee
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest: Will you Marry Me
My son is getting older, and he just went back to College, the other day.
But he had enjoyed the summer, by adding a new game to his daily play.
He called it Troll Tipping as daily he targeted another, and wore him out.
By dinner, the Troll would fall asleep, as my son claimed his dessert, so devout.
But wearing out a Troll, is not such an easy thing, so many a night, a Troll got his.
What a shame! But as a resourceful college man, at devising plans he was a whiz.
He offered them a Fun Filled Tip, yes, a way to get others, to do their daily chores.
The cost to each individual Troll, was their sweet dessert, that night, nothing more.
He was doing great, as he ran thru many a Troll, but then our suspicions did unfold.
You see, this bred unrest, as a number of fights started, amongst our beloved Trolls.
Scheming isn’t sharing, so Grandpa Troll had a TALK, life changing, or so it’s told.
But Boys are boys, and desserts were to be had, so he made a new plan, quite bold.
You might say he invented Granny Tipping, yes, now it was MY dessert, on the line.
Now this would be quite simple, for at my age, I can easily, become tiredly inclined.
But the one thing he’d forgot: is how crafty age had made this old one, in her efforts.
As dinner wound down, I cued Grandpa Troll, to help deliver, those delicious desserts.
I told my son, that they were made to be his favorite, simply in honor, of his behalf.
Then I pretended to fall asleep, and he quickly took my dessert, with a joyous laugh.
Then suddenly his eyes grew big! And I awoke, looking him quite clearly, in the eye.
I lied that, I added laxatives and terrible cod liver oil, to my dessert nightly, yes, so sly.
Making them easier to swallow, but if he wanted more dessert, he only had to ASK.
He quickly sped away, to wash that terrible taste, out of his mouth, a daunting task!
And we all had our chance to laugh at him… as the joke was finally on him, at last.
I call this, Bad Behavior Tipping, and from that day to this, he asks for more, at last!
The game seemed to lose its luster that day, yes, manners did a BIG, comeback.
The moral is to politely ask… Playing clever little games… is NEVER for the best!
(To be read after my 'Fire and Brimstone'.)
Dragon Fly, Dragon Fly, fly away home. You’ve caused enough trouble here, I am told.
All you wanted was to ring the church bell, but the belfry your body did not take well.
Terrible things happened all around, and the belfry you left is certainly not sound.
Old Lady Moore still has her cane, to protect them again, if you cause harm, within.
Old Lady Swanson’s lost hat is her major complaint, apologize profusely, be a saint!
The Church belfry will need lots of work; by the carpenter Trolls to fix it’s bridgework.
The people all need to calm down, they were scared and now the church is shutdown.
Looks like they’ll need a new fancy annex to be built for weddings and such…
To help them forgive… even… ever… slightly… enough. Though, of course…
The preacher himself…wants you back, for sure; I am definitely, and totally assured.
He’s never been inspired to such lofty greatness to soar, never, not even, once before.
He says you hold his key, to reach the lost, as they tune in to see what’s coming next.
He wants to add even, the Trolls to the mix. If they can be saved, well, you get the gist.
And you’ll have to attend church for quite a while, yes, still, as an itsy bitsy Dragonfly.
You’ll need to get forgiveness from all, you know, before you grow big, again, I am told.
The witch is quite clear on this spell, a dragonfly you’ll stay till everything’s made well.
Seems, you also, owe them an apology, for half scaring them… well… nearly to death.
Bumps, bruises, and a broken arm need to heal, from jumping over the pews, they feel.
Plus some of the teenagers, have made tee shirts of you, and want your autograph, too.
You see, your limited edition, when signed, will pay their way to bible camp, this time.
And the girl with the cast on her arm, wants a picture of you on a leash, so be charming!
You see, you scared her, a really whole lot, if she can pet you, her fear will be forgot.
It seems, you really messed up, this time, you see… but all will be forgiven, eventually.
So Dragon Fly, Dragon Fly, fly away home. They understood, once your story was told.
If you agree to all I have said: They’ll give you a bell outside, to ring before church…
Each and every Sunday Morn, with a special alcove, made for only you, to perch...
Remember, if God can love a mischievous little Dragonfly... And he can love you, too.
So until next church time... Bye Bye...
No, we weren't a couple one expected.
"What could she be thinking", one reflected.
Yet we held an undefined attraction;
Some subconscious neuron interaction.
After weeks we gathered our composure
Time to face my parents' first exposure.
True, your looks were just a bit off kelter(sic).
Poets often live at homeless shelters.
Mother stiffened, held her throat, and gasped.
Father never moved, in shock perhaps.
Then we vowed to do what we must do.
Freight trains leave at seven, ten and two.
Before the "I do" she must choose
A man that does well in dance shoes
His psyche gives a clue
When employing step two
Ply him to the limit with booze
Lookin' after pests
Keepin' a CLOSE eye on 'em
"Those wild animals!"
Roamin' around zoo
Searchin' for sneaky monkey
Hidin' in a tree
Zookeeper gets mad
"Where's Marty, the smartypants!?"
"He TOOK my cage keys!"
My wife always says I’m the best
A feeling which brought me much zest
One night wild thoughts flew
In search of a clue
I wondered just who were the rest
You spoiled me with gifts
You always helped me out
You said you'd always be there
You were all I was about
I eventually let my walls down
I finally let you in
It only lasted 2 months
I'm not gonna let u win
You tricked and deceived me
Everything was all just a lie
Other girls you did see
Your bulls**t I did buy
But I learned real quick
I finally caught on
I kicked you to the curb
And now your f**king gone
I'm a great, loving person
You obviously could not see
Your not gonna bring me down
Your just another faded memory
So be a cocky, selfish, dick
And chase after tail
Tell all your bulls**t lies
Cause at life you will fail
Cause when your old n gray
And there's no more drama
A lonely, sad life you'll lead
So haha F**k You, that's karma
One last look before I throw you out the door
You will never say you are sorry anymore
But I can’t do this, it’s hurting even more
When it’s always me, picking you, up off the floor
But I will be always be, hung up on you
Last night I put your beautiful face, on my tattoo
Now there will never be a way, to stop seeing you
Last night I put your beautiful face on my tattoo
My heart was pierced you stuck that pin in tight
Right into my heart you pushed it all just right
And pinned yourself forever on my heart
And I have no strength to rip this all apart
There is no more sense, to anything you say
I saw your old girl friends, and I blew them all away
You can say forever that you have had it all
I want to get a shot gun and blast you through a wall
But I can’t ever stop seeing you
Last night I put your beautiful face on my tattoo
I told her at work I been bizzy
She got mad and threw a big hizzy
So I been in a bit of a tizzy
Tryin to fix things with Lizzy
So I say I’ll come see her again
(How many weeks has THAT been?)
If I knock on her door in chagrin
I’ll take a left hook to the chin
My God, you’re a silly damn fool!
Nothin’s changed, it’s still the same rule
So re-learn it, you stubborn old mule!
And haul yer ass back into school…
***A poem I wrote several years ago after becoming an ineligible bachelor again
Somebody clue me in
Why oh why must this women toy with my emotions,
Once again dear lord why oh why does the phone keep ringing
And chicks call and hang up, I have gutting to the point I can tell what type
Of day they had by the way the phone ringing’s and hit the dial to hang up
I don’t what to say anything blasphemy or even out of character but even
A man has his breaking point, this is not another teen movie or sequel or even prequel
But I did not know I knew so many woman in till I got on facebook took two and half years
To clear up clarification of what was said and what was facts and fact is we was just friends nothing
More Right all right …
Last twenty days I have gotting calls from a colordo spring company, Burbank CA, Albant Or,
Hudson,Fl, Hartwell Ga and who in the world does a fund raiser an nine clock on a Sunday,
You Should name the fund raise the “Unity Front” I know I been told all woman hate me or was
You just flirty I cant tell so cruel and ususally, why call from 0-0-0-0 number and pick up the second time
and keep call me madma then call the next fifteen mintues and then I get a recording “saying goodbye”
This is not “Shaun of the dead”
This is not another teen movie but” Jason is my nickname” so how far do you want go?
But please don’t bus out my window glad my mom sold my car she didn’t bus out the windows of my car
Is the music effecting your behavior?
If you don’t know now you know I got call id, call waiting, speed dial, and the call that pop up
On the tv. And if you seen the "Big Hit" I got the bust buster buster do you know what that even is?
I get it I’m a nice guy too nice most men first call they get they said the first thing that comes to mind I
wonder what word that is?,
And for the record I am not a celeb yet I might of spoken to a few
here and there don’t even know
How they know me truth be told I don’t have a dime to my name don’t seem like I going break the
Bank anytime soon but yet I keep getting twitter invites borgobaby- love don’t live here any more life goes on.
Yes Sir, but for the record my fare lady oh im sorry my fare ladies I am not a player,
Gentlemen a tier.
But once again my nickname is Jason so game over, the wait is over
and I must say I adore woman to the
Fullest extension but love don’t live here anymore once more and
I don’t what to play games like most 20 something 30 is acoming and sound more cool then “not
between but tween” “not alright but all right all right all right”
and “absolutely”, “ 4up 4 down tip top” don’t for get I came up with most this "clinches" in 09’
But I choice to stay anonymous speaking of anonymous FedEx call at twelve where is my packages?
Woman I don’t understand someone clue me in?
"A Poet and Still Running"
The Cyber Nymph
Loch David Crane
August 18, 1997
Lie back--expose your belly ring
up unto the sky. . .
I just hope when I get down close
it won't put out my eye!
That summer I was 48
and she pert 25;
I left Prozac in the cupboard
and Reality went Live.
I shoulda taken time to stop
and used the vorpal rubber
But 48 he couldn't wait
to find another lover.
So while the Sun was merciless
to sand and skin and sea
"If she swells I'm sure she'll tell,
returning then to me."
I must admit I got her drunk--
I used her just for sex:
Blue and blond with freckles,
suntanned buns and pecs.
But she revealed computer skills
That took away my breath.
Her dancing cyber fingers sang;
I soon saw who was best.
Ol' 48 could bare compute
"Not very fast" she said;
"I've practiced years not to be fast"
gasped I, collapsed in bed.
Then the Sun warmed up the honey--
it dripped twice more in a row.
Ulysses' "rosy-fingered dawn"
beheld her frown, dress, and go.
That freshly-flossed feeling
reverberates my spine
A smile wells up from deep inside
and stays there all the time.
At play I watched this cyber nymph
on Netscape and E-mail;
Her eyes flashed, fingers flying,
shaking golden ponytail.
"You're kinda slow," she grumbled,
"But I like that in a man," she grinned,
making me feel great.
My old 12 color monitor
was not enough for her;
More movies, GIFs, and videos
flew by me in a blur.
But 48 he had a trick:
while she stared at the screen
I spoke in her ear, nibbled her neck,
and adored her like a Queen.
I kissed and bit and licked and squirmed
'til wrists and spine went quiet--
The way a mouse's legs go still
when python's on his diet.
And then the honey dripped once more,
the Sun was past its rise.
I felt its rosy hug and knew
that love was in my eyes.
I asked her for her address,
she wrote with @ in code;
I said "I'm too old fashioned"
and asked for her telephone.
So when you dream, sweet 25,
tall cyber nymph of mine,
remember please old 48
who isn't past his prime.
And as the honey of the Sun
drips down into the sea
I'll recall my Cyber Nymph
and she will undelete me.
Jaunty can't live without her
for silly matters deter
actually he loves much
gone from home no touch
boomerang husband's purr
Note: Sorry, this is my first limerick
Thoughts displaced by rolling palpitations,
From left to right grow these numbing sensations,
A face which spirals down, drooping from smile to frown.
Time hibernates in this moment protracted,
Legs bow and shake to our drama just acted,
Senses into overdrive, does pain show you’re still alive?
Oxygen masks, Coxes’ rowing commands,
Heart beat machines is what love demands,
“You need time to relax”, prescriptions from Quacks,
Is love just a commonplace heart attack?
Sir laugh a lot
Our P Soup jester
Offers highs by way of remedy
Pushing smiles for ill's that fester
Break of day smiles
For sleepy peepers
Wee hour hilarity for
Family time funnin
With old Jack E
When dinner is done
Sure beats the TV
Because his Quatrains
Often come many a day
That delicate balance of
Wisdom and play
If not for Jack E where would I be
Those hours when sleep eludes
His happy nature though naughty be
In rhymes his loving soul exudes
His comments always lift us up
Make us feel like hall of famers
P Soup Email every day
Awaiting new poem sustainers
Love that guy with all my heart
He's sweet as sweet can be
Our own sweet Santa doing his part
A Canadian friend with a guarantee
For he'll be there in his easy chair
Thinking of how to blow our minds
Talk of old men in their underwear
And how all the pretty ladies do shine
He's a papa to the many
Young at heart though 70's old
Never met a man so friendly
A New Year cheers to his heart of gold
“One of the biggest kicks a person can have is a feeling of righteous indignation.”
~ Alan Watts, in a recorded talk titled “Reality, Art, and Illusion” (1965)
If gay folks can marry, is marriage worth less?
Your love and attachment worth nothing, of course
Or maybe those just don’t exist – let’s confess
You’d rather they cheapen the cost of divorce.
If gay folks can marry, does that mean God failed?
Deny they came out swinging as you despise –
Makes sense to assert that God would’ve prevailed
Had man skipped the paperwork that sanctifies.
If gay folks can marry, say who is worse off?
The billions of us, dear, engaging in sex?
Our billions more children won’t have room to scoff
Or private space left to repeat such prospects.
If gay folks can marry, so what’s it to you?
The sanction of hedonists’ day in the sun
That you’d rather darken when this is what’s true:
You’re jealous to miss out on all of the fun.
~ Thanks Always Returns
I lusted after Deborah from my first day at school.
As did every other boy, her looks made them all drool.
On Valentines I sent a card despite my inhibition.
She responded with a churlish smile that set me on a mission,
I asked her for a date and she replied “well, that depends…
…in fact, on second thoughts, I’d rather we were Just Friends”
half his age
and nearly twice his
pretty as a picture
but none too bright
he loves her open
arms (and legs) –
spread-eagled on his
she likes him for
his open mind and
but most of all –
his open wallet
she intends to stick
with him through
thick and thicker
and is most
his dodgy ticker
you can see my
original poem on my
blog here -
this chick i met at the store one day trying to sell me a jar or raspberry jam.
She said i looked familar.I said she looked familiar to
Elementary school.Third grade.Mrs brown was are teacher.
This girl always sat alone during lunch and at reccess .
Never had i realized how pretty she was so i asked her out to lunch.
When she said yes then trouble started spewing.
She hasnt stopped cutting her meat and shes putting splenda in her sprite drink.
When she speaks shes telling me all the names of her exs in alphabetical order and how it was always them and never her.I seriously doubt this ecspecially when she askes if id like to have a threesome with her sister.
I dont know how this psycho chick got me on date two.Shes pretty and all but thats all shes got too.
Sex is ackward.She insist her dog be in the room.She laughs hysterically the whole time and sleeps through the rest.
On date three i let her go gently.She said shed never forgive me and that i was by far the worst ex she ever had.I thought thank goodness for that.
On friday she called me and said all was forgiven.I asked her how she got my number?she said your mother gave it to me.By the way her name is smidgen isnt it.
I told her it was over.My temper started rising.
she said she didnt mind as her fifth ex was taking her back.I said good luck with that.
Never saw her again but that psycho chick still talks to my mother who says i should have proposed.I tell my mom if only you knew what that psycho chick put me through.
Gave my dear Ex a parting gift
A lovely comfortable chair
But I'm really not allowed to turn it on
It's a felony in this land so fair!
I'm not to blame if her latest hubby
Made a very big mistake
And lit her up like a Christmas Tree
Smelling like an overdone steak
As he watched his lover bake away
He sported this evil grin
It seemed that things weren't all that great
With my dear sweet Ex and him
So on her epitaph was written this
“I loved receiving gifts”
But this one was really too hot to handle
Sure gave her ending a twist!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Oh doctor my wife won’t you see
I think she is cheating on me
Said doctor to fuss
Of course I’ll discuss
She’ll be with me just after three
Amanda smiles when she walks down the street.
Amanda parades for the company she meets.
Amanda auditions when you ask her name.
Amanda Veranda is her own hall of fame.
But under the garments and jewels she wears.
She can't stop fearing the gossip she hears.
At night when she's naked and stripped of her gown
Amanda's wide grin sadly slips to a frown.
Her make up starts running her image is bare.
Her vanity's vanished because nobody's there.
She looks in the mirror and sees she must change.
Her fantasy vanity must be rearranged.
So she made herself useful and gave of herself.
And found she could finally climb down from her shelf.
She took down her trinkets and vases and gifts.
Went out and mended those trivial rifts.
She humbled herself and she found it felt good.
Did all the things that she knew that she should.
Now she’s still quite the talk of her little old town.
But it no longer gossips and puts this girl down.
They speak of her highly since she's bowed very low.
Not low in a bad way she just gave up her show.
So if you're an Amanda whose ego's to big
You'll too find it better to swing a new gig.
“When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.”
~ Proverbs 11:2 (NIV)
A popular topic ’mongst people of faith
Is whether among them are those who but sayeth
That they’ll abide by precepts that all claim
As theirs in that group. Well, it sure is a shame
When participation is empty, and yet
The more people do this, the bolder they get,
Till crises of style emerge, upon when
All cower in fear of the littlest sin.
But who cares if hippies with dreadlocks a-flowin’
Would strum their guitars or speak of some great vision
Of proud peaceful Pepperland, of Puff the dragon:
He’s raw and organic, non-GMO, vegan –
Who cares if you’re scarfing fast food from that bag?
It isn’t for health nuts; why’s that such a drag?
Who cares if you go for expensive retreats,
Drink smoothies, take saunas, and live as elites?
Who cares if what’s inside that head of long hair
Is nothing profound but the attitude there?
I don’t look too special or act like I’m wise
And yet Kate Wolf’s voice I can fast recognize;
I seek the nontoxic, I grow fresh green herbs,
And strive for the thoughtful, not that which disturbs,
I learn T’ai Chi freely from folks in the park,
And meditate each time when I would embark
Upon my small vision quests that can’t stack up,
To greater things that I’m sure all fill your cup
Since you’re putting on such a beautiful show:
Is what’s not pretended just what you don’t know?
~ Thanks Always Returns
Since she was three months old,
Samii just loves to be with her toy mouse.
The thick black fabric that was once a shoulder pad of a jacket
Was stitched and embroidered by me with tender-loving care,
And transformed into a toy mouse that has become her special friend.
She drags her toy everywhere, from the kitchen to the family room,
To the bedroom, and even, to the bathroom.
As Samii lays on the sofa, she savors those caressing licks
Against the fabric filled with catnip.
She just adores that toy mouse!
Sometimes she plays so rough with her claws extended,
And nuzzles with such vigor.
But when she lays on the kitchen floor,
Absolutely no one can touch her toy mouse at all.
Since she's so intoxicated by that aroma of catnip d'or.
For the past ten years, I've watched Samii sleep with her toy mouse
Between her paws, or otherwise, right along side her.
I can tell that she just adores that toy mouse!
And even if she has a morsel to eat,
Samii always returns to her toy mouse wherever it may be.
I do not know?
No need for words,your deception is written all over your face,for my
own personal display.What i should do is leave you stand here and just walk
away. But even then i just turn to you and say ,"what's your excuse this
time?",It only seems to my dismay that i still fall for those same tired lines.I've
had enough ,this relationship is through! I don't need you.The stuff you
pull,screw this , i'm tired of this bull. So i'm grabbing my stuff and
heading for the door. I promise you I AIN'T COMING BACK 2 YOU NO
MORE. So feel no need to be blowing up my
phone. It's going straight to voicemail. So when you call you better
watch your tone. If our relationship was a
test ,then Guess what ? you Failed