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Funny Memory Poems | Funny Poems About Memory

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

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Details | Light Poetry | |

The Wind in my Mind

The wind is blowing through my mind
Not gently breezing through.
It ruffles my thoughts and jumbles them
It will take time to file them anew
I like to file my thoughts in order
Of good ones and of bad
Its keeps things on a steady level
And stops one going mad

Happy thoughts are lifted
To the very fore
Memories of when we first met
You were sitting on the floor
The party was a bit of a flop
We left together and walked
And as we got to know each other
We talked and talked and talked

The wind is blowing stronger
The bad times it reminds
We split up for a lifetime
Well it seemed so in our minds
You persevered and asked me out
I decided you were true
My memory of our wedding day
And how happy I was with you

We had a little flat and furnished it with love.
The trouble was we were ground floor
And the water came in from above.

I look back through some memories
All tumbling in the breeze
The hard times the fun and laughter
The winter of the big freeze
We booked a holiday that year
The best time we ever had
I know it scared us half to death because I was so bad.
It’s a pity I missed part of it as to hospital I went
The baby we were having, to be born he seemed hell bent.

The wind is blowing on my head, now I fight with it for real
It’s just ripped off the shed roof, it looks like it’s been peeled
I better shut my memory box and find my hammer and nails
And fight with wind that’s blowing outside and stop my reminiscent gales.



Details | Rhyme | |

Granddads Book

In my quiet times I often try,
To remember places I've been.
To recall folk I have passed by,
And sights that I have seen.

There is nothing wrong with my mind,
Sometimes my memory is quite refined.
I think it's filled over many a year,
With so much junk, nothing seems clear.

So, I made up my mind to write it all down,
To recall it all caused me to frown
It started like I was in the dark,
A memory flared, I was in the park.

That day in the park was just the lever,
I found my mind was as good as ever.
Tho' times and places got out of line,
I wrote it all down, now wasn't I clever!

I'm nearly at the end of my story,
A journey I'm glad that I took.
For my grandsons to read in years to come,
I'll call it Granddads Book.

© Dave Timperley 2012.


Details | Rhyme | |

Went Fishin'


Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
------------------------------------------------

Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.

A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.

My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.

He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”

He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip 
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”

While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”

As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on.  My hands were steady.

Yellow with black dots and a weed guard. 
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.

As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.

So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!  
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”

When the Bass broke water, it scared me. 
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook!  Set the hook!”

When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.

My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.

“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez.  Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed, 
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”

He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready.  This is the part that’s great.

I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”

Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.

My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”

“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”

“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…

but for the great stories we get.” 

I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.

You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.

They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”


Details | Free verse | |

Ridiculous Me

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

Ridiculous me... 
Wouldn't you agree?


Details | Rhyme | |

A Very Early Memory .

My earliest memory was the Mid-Wife
 And her strong , safe forceful grip .
 And Dad's big frown
 In his surgical gown
 Saying "don't let my baby slip .
 Lord ! , he's pink and bald and ugly
 Hey Mom ! , here's your nine month dream
 He's the perfect mix 
 For politics
 'Cause he sure knows how to scream " .
 They all ooh'd and aah'd and choochy cooed
 Saying yeah, he's one in a million
 As I looked in bother
 And asked , hey mother
 So tell me ! , what's a brazilian ? .


Inspired by Danielle White's early memory contest ..


Details | Free verse | |

Self PORTRAIT

I will start with using my hand as a guide
And in the end I will open my eyes that I will decide

I consider to do this with one thing in mind
I will close my eyes and will imagine it blind
With no colors or fractionation of the light
Just plain me and a vision with my hand as my sight

My hair is very coarse and some what fine
What I just described is so benign  
I twirl my hair and make it bend 
And I will say its very clean not oily on the ends

As I press on my forehead I simply feel a distinct part
I notice from hair to skin it is very different from the start
The simple partings from hair not like skin
I am going to feel with my other hand and begin

The smoothness of my skin like years of water eroding a rough rock surface smooth
Not just that my skin is like home to years of stories like scars and attitude
And when I raise my eyebrows the wrinkles it makes is more so for expression
I did not notice it with certain ideas, thoughts, and emotions

I run my hands down to my eyelids I feel movement of my eyes trying to peek
Eyelids that I have, vibrates with some kind of fear, Why?, that I will seek
Just now as I thought about it a sensation ran through my brain
My eyes is the world to me and that is true and not insane

Myself portrait of me is through my touch for now
But to finish it I will have to open my eyes soon and how
I been in a trance full of so many ideas just with my eyes closed
I run my hand on my nose and lips and I smile who could apposed

The feelings in the tip of my fingers rub on my chin and jaw with care
I do notice roughness of unshaved velcro gripping hair 
I skip my ears so I will sneak a feel with my fingers I chose
I notice it is like my nose with cartilage, so I don't suppose

I will now open my eyes that I will use a mirror to see myself
My head is oval shape and my neck is like a stump, please help
My skin is very tan and my eyes are brown with my eyes I see
With all the description with my hands, one sure thing is the same and key

It is the description of measurements that is what my hands and eyes can see me
With a smile I am looking into the mirror and I can describe that I am happy
Myself portrait of me is such a way to get to know myself once more
I will never think it was a waste of time or a bore




Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Mom's Purse

When you’re the mom you carry the purse,
That’s the natural rule of the universe.

To a mom a purse is more than a bag,
It’s a safety net when the world starts to sag.

The pockets hold things that her family might need,
Like a granola bar with sunflower seed.

There’s a half eaten cookie and a clean pair of socks,
And a tool her grandfather gave her to set cuckoo clocks.

There’s a broken dolly in need of repair,
And a bright orange scrunchie to pull back her hair.

There are aspirins and band-aids and a coupon book,
Redeemable for vacations that never got took.

And way at the bottom is a memory of a girl,
Who would dress so young and gaily twirl.

In those days she carried a purse so small,
A dainty little bag hardly anything at all.

As she takes out the memory and starts to go through it,
She breaks out in a grin because there’s a sucker stuck to it.

She remembers what that girl wanted most for her life,
Was to one day be a mom and a good man’s wife.

Each memory she touches she remembers with pleasure,
And each item she carries becomes a small treasure.

That’s why when you’re the mom you carry the purse,
It’s the natural rule of the universe.


Details | Rhyme | |

Remember When

The fondest memory of a young boy’s drive,
   Are those things reminding us we are alive,
As when those physics of natural fortitude,
   Rise up to the occasion and start to protrude.

Seemingly the notion is quite  uncontrollable, 
  The mind that takes over is quite consolable,
`T was Love gave us the procreating  urge,
   Assumption is such, why should we not spurge?

As was this friend of mine who’s name was Berg, 
   With every young lady he saw, wanted to spurge,
He did saddled himself with three kids and a wife,
   Which is fine if mature ,but if not ruins one’s life.  

Another fond memory of a young boy alive,
   Is all those hot rod cars that he use to drive,
One of my dearest friends lost his life, where and when?
   High school graduation on Bayou creek bend.

A four in the floor and a fifth under the seat,
   Young boys feel like such a feat is quite neat,
Driving while drunk chancy rich price to pay,
   Same as being too young when one hit’s the hay!

This story has no glory,  though all parts are true,
   Parents seriously need to teach children good pursue,
Apple of God’s eye, tooth for tooth, an eye for an eye,
   We have not mercy,  when it is judgments we cry! 

For Contest: Fondest Memory
In Honor of: Frank Herrera


Details | Ballad | |

Smile Its Your Birthday

it seems like an eternity
since ive seen ur smile
the fact that uve been gone
still has me in deep denial

a lot of stuff has happened
since ur smile left this earth
gatherings, eagles losing, parties
life changes and brooklyns birth

a lot of people miss u greatly
n think about u everyday
our last picture together
on my dresser it will stay

ur deep voice, ur humor, ur kindness
is what i tend to miss the most
ur passing forever broke my heart
but our memories i hold close

i must admit, i did hit rock bottom
drugs n alcohol i used to cope
i took ur passing very hard
i started to give up hope

but i looked into brooklyns eyes
n caught a glimpse of u
u probably would have kicked my ass
sober now i stay true

mom also met a fine fella
u actually would approve
no need to kick this guys ass
hes good to her n the kids to

madison is so smart n beautiful
byron is turning into a handsome man
there both striving so well
u should be a very proud dad

two of ur friends got engaged
there so cute n its exciting news
i hope they live a life of happiness
i know u would feel the same to

ur brother misses u the most
hes coping the best he can
he misses u as much as i do
he was ur biggest fan

ur neighbors n friends
also stop by ur page
reminiscing about the good times
the laughter n good chatter ud engage

thank-god for all the music
its a good way to deal with pain in life
cause without u here with us
its like eating steak without a knife

im over trying to understand
i feel ur in a happier place
you had ur own reasons
your demons u finally faced

but in a couple days
ur birthday we will celebrate
the big thirty seven u turn
teasing u old man woulda been great

your always in our hearts
in our thoughts forever jay
so while ur up in heaven...
smile...cause its ur birthday :)

http://youtu.be/Qy1LXL0606Q


Details | Rhyme | |

YOU CALL THIS POETRY

You call this poetry
I'm sorry I must confess
Your recent work
Why, it's a complete mess
Your rhymes aren't good
The story's not compelling
Where's this going
There's really no telling
You think it's clever
I don't mean to criticize
But your latest poem
Put a hurting on my eyes
Are you embarrassed
You didn't print your name
But this looks familiar
So I'll guess just the same
What's that you say..
Oh my, can that be true
No wonder I recognized it
The poet's me and not you

Contest: Linda's "A Poem Not Entered Into A Contest #13"
Date: 9-13-14
Poet: Lyric Man


Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”


Details | Rhyme | |

The Hunchback Of Tennessee

My cousin owned a beagle,
A horny ol' dog;
He hunched everything in sight,
Even a hollow log!

I looked out in the back yard,
What do you think I'd see?;
That peanut-head beagle,
Hunchin' on a willow tree!

Hunchin' on a bicycle,
Hunchin' on a car;
Hunchin' on a porcupine,
That left an awful scar!!

I woke up one morning,
Squeaks echoed through my head;
I looked down at my feet,
That mutt was hunchin' on my bed!

He never rolled over,
He'd never fetch or beg;
But he could sure work up a sweat
On the shin of your leg!

One day I had enough,
I called my cousin on the phone;
I shouted loud and clear...
"He's hunchin' on a pine cone!!"

That's when I realized,
Milk and oil will never mix;
Once again I shouted out...
"Why don't you have him fixed?!!"

My cousin then replied...
"You know that ain't no good!"...
"It wouldn't be right,
To take his manhood!"

One day we went fishing,
The sun rose from the south;
That stupid ol' dog, 
Started hunchin' a cottonmouth!

He was struck many times,
Perhaps eight to ten;
That silly ol' beagle,
Keeled over on his chin!

Out in the back yard,
Beneath that willow tree;
We laid to rest our horny friend,
The hunchback of Tennessee!



Details | Limerick | |

I know I Possibly Wrote It

There once was a memory man Who remembered all that he can So he wrote in a book Which was gone when he looked Now he's doubting his memory span http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-2.php


Details | I do not know? | |

Forgetfulness x-x

Oh no!! I forgot – I had a plate of dessert In the cool freezer Oh no!! Dad forgot – He left his blue bowl of fruit On the clean counter!


Details | Rhyme | |

Ear Plug


Details | Couplet | |

Memory Or Lack Of

                  ~ Memory Or lack Of
Memories are so important, but I can’t remember mine,
I knew I had some once, once upon a time.

I go up the stairs and then I turn back, 
Was I going up or down, now I’ve lost track.
.
Where did I put it, that thing, you know what,
Oh blast I’ve forgotten what it was, or was not.
.
I look in the fridge and find my teapot,
So where is the milk, oh I know I’ve forgot.

Do I know you stood there, knocking at my door,
Oh yes you’re my son, I knew I’d seen you before,

Why didn’t you walk in, why do you knock?
Oh I locked up son, I’m sorry I forgot.

What are you doing there six foot three tall,
This morning you left you were really quite small.

Is it you or is it me my memory is shot
Oh now I remember it’s me, I forgot.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Bow Leg-ged Girl

      THE BOW LEG-GED GIRL
I took all of your tank tops and your hose and your sox,
and I put them all together in a little brown box.
I put all of your dresses and your shoes in a sack,
and I wrapped it up because I knew you're never coming back.

I took your funky records and your Gaygirl Magazines
and dropped them in the trash with all your green and purple jeans.
I took the clothes I bundled up and gave them away,
to the Salvation Army, it seems like yesterday.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I met a wino on the street, she looks just like you,
she wears a see through blouse and she walks bow legged, too.
She sings those funky songs and plays the guitar outa sight,
and she takes a bath in cheap perfume like you did every night.

She sings about Viet Nam and love we don't show,
No one's told her Viet Nam was fifty years ago.
She's out protesting every day and carries a big sign,
and bites her toenails every night just like you did mine.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

She has a job but all she'll say, it ain't chopping wood.
And it's funny how her money lasts, and she lives so good.
She bought a brand new car one day, a pink Cadillac,
and it's got a bar up in front and mattress in the back.

I don't know why she thinks she has to work every day,
cause I never had a job I just live on my welfare pay.
She picks her nose and rolls each bugger in a sugar ball,
and just like you used to do, then she eats them all.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I married her in the park, it seems like yesterday,
and I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't run away.
She brought her uncle home with her from work the other night,
and her uncle and my cousin all got drunk and had a fight.

She got locked in the bedroom with the meter readers dad,
and they had a lot of fun all night, but I felt awful bad.
He took her home with him a while, but she wouldn't stay,
I wish you'd come back home to me, and run her away.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Limerick | |

Do You Remember Where You Fell In Love

Took heaven to help me to see
That with her I wanted to be
I first felt love’s glow
And this I still know
We kissed under coconut tree


Details | Light Poetry | |

An old man's crumble

An old man's crumble.... I am an old man and no matter I say or do. But still I am living with my stubbornness heart I have complications with health history and hospitals always welcome me Sometime, my heart beats so hard and my veins are twisting me mad But still I manage to do my work on my own My walking stick is great support for me If not, I would not able to stand on the road Sleep brings me nightmares with forecast scenarios but when I wake up in the morning I feel nothing but freezing body and feet My memory is failing and my soul is falling My head is turning and my life is shortening How do I spent my youthful life all these days? Well, nothing much to tell about it because I am not married either. I really love to recollect my good old days but my memory of tears kept them away Youth become major and old become gold. So they say But sometimes I wonder where do I find my way around Before I go to bed, I keep my ears in the drawer, my teeth in a glass of water and my both eyes on the side table When my sleep overtakes me, I don't hear anything, my teeth don't feel cold and I don't see anything either I get up each morning and reset my bones from my sleepy body Later I pick up the news paper to read world news and sad news these days If my name is missing in the obituary column, thanks God I am not dead So I continue to do my work as usual till the day ends. Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka Copyright @Sept,2010 Ravi Sathasivam


Details | I do not know? | |

Illegitimi non Carborundum

Illegitimi non carborundum ;-)


...Staggering, my vision cloudy,


I fall to the hard ground.


when life’s sharp left-jab leaves my face bloody,


and all that surrounds me, is the desolation of loss I feel all around.



I see myself slipping,

down the abyss to where nothingness exists,


still, I cling on, groping for a foothold,

for my will to stay persists.



I clamber up, I stand my ground, though battered and bruised I may be,


my curtain is not falling yet, I have some fight still left in me.



It is then, in the pit of despair, when all seems bleak and painful and dull,


I summon the strength from deep within,


I rise, slowly, to face the day,


I refuse to sink,

to wallow, to surrender, to throw in the towel,


to drown,


for I am stronger now,


indeed I am, after all the years, and all the battles,


I stand, bruised and bloody,


still,


I stand,


I refuse, to sink, to drown,


for they can try, to punish me some more,


but I shall not allow them to grind me down…


;-)


Details | Free verse | |

My Secret Prison

Trapped again!

Maze hidden cheddar eluding 
every twisting turn a doorway 
to the path I’ve already forgotten
a spirit broken within each hidden cul-de-sac.

I cry.

Depression building my will 
crumbling into fatal despair
that rages with a whisper
as quiet as a hurricane.

I sleep.

I scream at one wall 
HA! HA! HA!
hundreds more continue laughing.
Right! Left! NO! RIGHT! Left! Right! LEFT! YES! Right!

I succumb.

Cheddar thoughts and running 
water sustain my desire to escape
through walls of scent
filled dreams of freedom.

I laugh.

Test complete. Failure.
Should have smelled for Camembert.


Details | Imagism | |

Land of Sorrow

Come go with me to the land of Sorrow
We'll check in the Heartbreak Hotel
Then, we'll take a stroll through Pain City
Throw a memory in Misery Well
Let's take a swim in Teardrop River
And take a ride on the Lonesome Train
Hike on up to Lover's Leap
No more to walk down Memory Lane


Details | Rhyme | |

My earliest memory

my earliest memory is when I was three
for I tried to run away from home you see
my sisters used to call me names and tease
laugh at me if I fell on my knees
they thought it was funny picking on someone small
but I did not see the funny side at all
but these painful childhood memories I choose not to recall
as if they never happeend at all
I forgive  you and I forget
 and my birth I do not regret
so it does not matter what they said or did
 for back then they were just a kid
 God has a purpose for me
His true  Love set me free from thee
so I forgive all the things that you do
and may peace always be with you.


inspired by Danielle Whites' my earliest memory contest.


Details | I do not know? | |

Happy Place

do you know the feeling i feel?
that feeling you feel when you feel a feeling you felt before?
that yummy feeling of a delightful memory you will forever charish
that memory that has you smiling and giggling?
a crisp feeling in your belly of happiness?
i feel as if i should let you know im feeling this way 
because its important you feel that very same way
its a feeling you must feel everyday
or else it will just fade away!
like a red kite, flying away, 
a very tragic tale..
but you must keep the kite near the warm ground
keep it close and tight and loved.
lets feel this feeling now, 
so remember a day where nothing was in the way
not a care, not a worry and deffinatly not a quarelle 
feel the breeze, maybe not of wind
but of greatness in you.
feel it for just a moment and return to the world
give it a smile and walk on by.


Details | Free verse | |

Cleaning the Clothes

 A cool breeze touches my skin
And I close my eyes
A memory washes over me
Through my hair
And I smile
Slowly 
Lingering there

Standing there, here by a pile of clothes
Under the evening sun gently swaying from the sky
Inside the breeze cascading off the lake 
And at long last I open my eyes
To the memory of first when
We washed our clothes
Here in the cooling
Touch of life

Do you close your eyes still and see it too
The early morning light whispering of the coming day
In tides of the sweet lullaby sighed from her lips
A loon out there in the mist
Singing as we talked
As we laughed
Splashed

Laundry in the spring of summer
Two friends knee deep in cooling waters
Glimmering under the newly born sun
And still in the quiet of day I linger here
In the memory of that lesson
Born in a splash 
A laugh

“Colours first and separate from the whites,” said you
And I smiled with a rolling of my eyes
“Yuh, whatever,” said I with flicking splash
So it was that you splashed back with a lean look
“Right, colours first,” agreed I 
As the water ran down my face
“And?” said you with prod of your toe
I shrugged 
On came the splash
				
“Okay! Okay! Separate from the whites!” 
I grinned 
And you laughed
“You have to know how to do this
Especially in today’s society,” chided you to me
“Oh, really?” replied I with a playful splash to you
“Isn’t that a package deal when I have a . . .” 
But you never let me finish that thought
		
I laugh now in the memory of my sputtering cough
The fresh and thrilling chill of the water
And the look in your eyes 
Daring me to finish my sentence
But wisely I said nothing
Except to smile
	
“No one is going to do your laundry for you,” said you
I remember nodding as if in agreement
Very solemnly 
And again you splashed me
“What?!” 
I said laughingly
“What was that for?!”
“You know what,” said you frostily 
“I totally agreed with you!”
“Uh, huh,” said you nodding as if you knew something

“Its about being independent,” finally said you 
After a long quiet moment
And I did not grin
Or smirk
But you splashed me anyway
Maybe just a little smirk
				
Afterwards as we hung our clothes out to dry
I remember thinking and saying playfully so 
“You know I do have a washing machine,
After all this is the age of technology . . ?”
	
I’m still not sure when it was that I found myself 
Wearing you shoe
But I remember thanking you
Yes, I remember that much
For sure . . . 


Details | Rhyme | |

A Computer's Wish

Oh how I wish they would be patient with me,
I need to be upgraded can’t they see.

Maybe a new motherboard and processor is what I need,
since everyone is interested in core clock speed.

Possibly a high definition video card would do,
with 3D quality to improve the view.

What about that 24-bit Dolby digital sound card,
clear enough to hear out in the yard.

Can’t forget to add a new memory stick,
at least 512 megabytes is what I would pick.

It must have a Double Data Rate,
and a Dual In-Line Memory Module to be great.

We might end up needing more hard drive space,
so put in a 120 Gig drive in the old ones place. 

With all these changes you’re about to make,
there is one precaution you should take.

Staying away from the static could be a perk,
if in the end you want me to work.

Then when I am up and ready to go,
there is one thing you should know.

Avoid opening e-mail messages from an unknown source,
installing a good virus program would help of course.

The only problem is that he never has any money you see,
so I simply wish he would take care of me.