While wading in the water
caught a wet soft-bodied squid
took it home for dinner
but the evening was a damp squib
I don't think ink but due to
an unrequited one-way conversation
neither returned nor reciprocated
on my part quite the aberration
courtship was not to be
for as a voracious marine carnivore
I could not sate her hunger
as had insufficient albacore
therefore not a keeper
what's more a pet one cannot tame
next day all things considered and quite timely
'twas returned to the sea from whence she came
[Disclaimer: No Squid Were Harmed
in the Writing of this Poem®]
Aberration in Blue
Floyd with a cleaner heart
Whiter than the man in blue.
Though so white, yet inhuman
Painted with an outside view.
He was not faulted wrong
Yet, died for his pure innocence
Floyd and the white guy
Both died with a difference.
Floyd’s plea was heard not loud
The white guy was so deaf
Floyd cried out to his mum
His family left bereft.
The white guy had no human heart
Made of stone or clay
Abused his uniform of blue,
Credentials lost that day.
Politicization rhymes
with abomination
and contamination
CHROMATIC ABERRATION
There’s another epidemic
Now infecting many a mind
With a source hap academic
Bending thought made colour blind
Viewpoints Green colour of nature
Must be blest, no reservation
Though they hide a scarlet tincture
Mask a socialist dictation
Black Lives Matter is respected
Cross the world now near and far
With its red heart unsuspected
Though it beats a Marxist bar
Red can only be rejected
When it’s on a MAGA hat
Some may then try to correct it
With a sneer and thrown brickbat
Pink once tint of ladies choosing
Air of tender love and grace
Now viragos, furies, shrews in
Street protest wave in-your-face
So-called ‘Anti-Fascist’ hosts
Indulge in Fascist style attack
Unaware that irony gross
Mocks their choice to dress in black!
Chromatic aberrations shifts
Dismay this old curmudgeon’s eye
Yet his spirits still feel lifts
To see red white and blue flown high
An Aberration
He is orange at the corner
And he’s looking at me.
He has a crooked grin - it is snide
It is fearsome to see
More than a pumpkin he scares
Moving nighttime creeping things.
I am afraid to pass him,
As a mean faced witch flies over me.
We kiss goodnight and close the light;
just moments pass, and he is snoring!
Why is this brain of mine still bright
with thoughts- oh my, this is so boring!
The same old process I go through-
once snuggled in, my mind's exploring
those things that I forgot to do,
like lock the door and pull the drapes;
turn off the plugged-in crockpot too.
This isn't fair, and I go apes-
so from my comfy bed, I run
without the slightest hesitation-
to find at last, that I'd missed none!
Now, back to bed- this aggravation-
for sure's my nighttime aberration!
June 14, 2020
Contest: Sleepless- Old or New
Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
Revised from a poem posted April 6, 2019
Steamy prophetic poet stepping into his astral plane
Conjugating with the obsessed erect minds of his congregation
Slithering in his wet leather crow-black pants
Tight enough to be skin
Perched on his precipice of passion
To stage the light to his soul
Descending upon the stunned hungry eyes
As he swayed opening his mouth
To the bulging sweltering sound
Of unworldly magnetism
Panting illusions of rapture with hot strokes of each epic note
Projecting his lyrical persona with magic and moxie
Raising the bristles on the bumps
His throaty rhythm penetrating the space
Of an evolutionary animus of love making
Infusing the sensual spices to lay heedless
To this conqueror of reckless sexual energy
Manifesting words that exterminate any resistance
To the ecstasy of the elation
We confess our immoral selves
To love him completely
We kiss goodnight and close the light;
just moments pass, and he is snoring!
Why is this brain of mine still bright
with thoughts- oh my, this is so boring!
The same old process I go through-
once snuggled in, my mind's exploring
those things that I forgot to do,
like lock the door and pull the drapes;
turn off the plugged-in crockpot too.
This isn't fair, and I go apes
in second-guessing what I've done-
full yes or no somehow escapes!
So from my comfy bed, I run
without the slightest hesitation-
to find at last, that I'd missed none!
Now, back to bed- this aggravation-
for sure's my quirky aberration!
April 6, 2019
~3rd Place~
Contest: Quirky Tercets
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Judged: 05/03/2019
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