rolling into ramble
my mind is screaming through my skin
release, blood, let me go.
bared teeth forced smile
rigor mortis
but I am breathing.
locked limbs
dead pan.
I am shivering.
pain – I need pain
life has never offered me anything to gain
only loss.
Control. 7 letters. 7, lucky number.
scratch off a lotto ticket,
pretend it wasn’t the same waste of space,
time & money as I have always been
before I toss it to the floorboard.
let me go – I whisper.
bad luck – no
the urges scream.
hurt,
hurt,
hurt.
for that is your worth.
There was a baker named thyme
who forgot all about the time
she burnt her cinnamon bread
because of her cousin Fred
and now it's too late the day is in its prime
Bad Luck for the Vampire Teeth
It was such a gloomy Halloween day
The Vampire Teeth tinted with blood,
and delicate pinot noir (bottled not yesterday),
went flying over a field of western redbud.
From his side,
a drunk goose
struck him. The Vampire Teeth cried,
‘Watch where you fly, you goose!’
Then ten more geese smacked into him (frown, frown)
So so winded he couldn’t stay in the air,
and he fell quite fast down down down
into a big crack the length of a bear
in the road that boarded the field square.
No one heard his cries for help.
Then his voice box broke.
Then a limping construction worker Mr Kelp
who was too broke
filled in the crack (with some egg yolk)
with cement angrily demanded by the folk.
No more ancient Gaelic Festival of
Samhain for The Vampire Teeth.
All because of
those stupid geese, and that worker Heath.
Bad luck is not a thing, but sometimes it feels so real. No matter how far I've come, it refuses to yield. Doing nothing doesn't matter, and trying too hard never will. But if luck is not a thing, then what is this feeling that follows me? I know I've come far and have done many things, but this bad luck seems to follow me.
I do not understand what it is, but sometimes I feel cursed for having ever lived, born into a world that seems to do me harm. But I push on every day, hoping this bad luck will go away.
I know I said bad luck is not a thing, but why must I be pushed down every day.
I keep waking up
too bad luck
Holes in my socks
and my underwear
I know it's too much
info to share
I don't care
Clothing is overrated anyway
I'm not a model
on a runway
Who cares how I look
many years have passed
in this unlucky book
From flat tires to rain
to breaking down
in the fast lane
some may go insane
with all this bad luck
I obtain
But it's given me strength
given me character
That's why I look forward
to my next chapter.
Mr. O'Toole in trauma sat in front
Seeking mercy from tax assessor stunt.
His Irish luck grace
Full Blown-in his face.
With distaste pay money in full upfront.
3/26/2025
I've felt a sense of gloom and doom looming over me
As if I'd set a rabbit's foot or lucky clover free
What have I done to put me in this hypnotic trance
No more can I endure this endless neurotic dance
So I steered into the skid to really test my fate
Stepped on every sidewalk crack with a spry gait
Broke a mirror and opened an umbrella wide indoors
Spilt salt and left it on my cleaned and just dried floors
Walked under a ladder to get my 13 new black cats
Left on the bed all my cowboy and lumberjack hats
And wouldn't you know, my luck began to show change
Bad luck thwart with bad omens, it's oh so strange
It’s Friday and my old black cat
Across my path he goes
He does not care for human dates
His nonchalance, it shows
He blesses me by crossing me
At least that’s what he thinks
But since it is the thirteenth too
I’ve just been double jinxed.
Sometimes I Gotta Laugh, So I Don't Cry
Am I the punch line for life’s cruel joke?
Bad luck follows me, don’t ask me why
Oh geez, I think I’m gonna need a smoke
Moved to a small town to meet some nice folk
One said, "Come on over for some apple pie!"
I came home to my belongings, all gone or broke
Sometimes I gotta laugh, so I don't cry
After cleaning the inside, as it was a pigsty
I found the outside to be covered in yolk
A house in what kind of town did I buy!
Am I the punch line for life’s cruel joke?
The next morning to a new challenge, I awoke
A tornado had come down from the sky
Through my new houses roof was a fallen oak
Bad luck follows me, don’t ask me why
My humor has gone from jovial to wry
As I tried to relax in the tub for a soak
Snow came through the roof hole I patched *Sigh*
Oh geez, I think I’m gonna need a smoke
After earthquakes, termites, an angry cowpoke
I thought the end to my pitfalls was certainly nigh
Should have knocked on wood or thought before I spoke
I sit alone with no toilet paper, not even one ply
Sometimes I gotta laugh….
November 15, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 33 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Sitting here in rush hour I moan and sigh
Horn’s honk, engine’s rev, a Monday to miss
Birds whooshing overhead as time ticks by
When from below I hear a squealing hiss
The tire! Is murphy's law to blame for this?!
I hop out to check and PLOP! That damn bird!
I pop the hood to a clang, clunk and creak
Was that the beep from the engine I heard?
I grumble and groan, I just want to shriek!
As cars whiz by, what a start to the week....
I start to tinker around when VvvROOM, SPLASH!
Surrounded by traffic rumbling past
One zooms through a puddle, my suit is trash
Coolant sprays up in my face with a blast
First day at the new job might be my last…
July 6, 2022
Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Not at all nice:
In one's hair lice
In one’s room mice
Weevils in one’s rice
In lieu of full cake, a slice
One’s highest post “vice”.
Permanent ear for advice.
A bad throw of Life’s Dice,
Quick to itself half disguise,
Already on one fixing a price:
To The Rest, Worth Thrice
A Stroke of humbling bad luck
An Eagle makes A Duck!
I was just a little gregarious girl
wearing a lime green bikini
with a tiny red apple
appliqued on the top
splashing
in the plastic kiddie pool
covered in cartoon fish
Drops of cool water
I flung up in the air
reflecting the summer sunshine
falling
over me as if I were being showered
in sparkling diamonds
I climbed out of the water
grabbing my compact mirror
in the sky blue case
shaped like a seashell
a mermaid with blond hair
like mine painted on it
I had bought at the thrift store
with a quarter I’d found in the parking lot
I carried it everywhere I went
I had sat it on top of my tattered towel
I don’t recall what I had planned
to do with it
It slipped from my grip
onto the old cracked pavement of the patio
shattering
sharp shards of glass
shimmering in the sun
Seven years bad luck my mother said
Seven years that stretched
into ten, twenty, thirty
close to forty now
Can anyone see me?
Can someone free me from this
curse?
Clyde O'Toole suffered a heap of bad luck
He was beaned with a wayward hockey puck
He was heard to swear
As it creased his hair
Unfortunately Clyde forgot to duck
Entry for Tania Kitchin's "Limerick Fun Poetry" Contest
(PS/31 August 2020)
Won No. 3 in the contest
i clench both eye lids
awaiting for my first kiss
it was terrible
They say that it is true
If a black cat crosses your path
You are destined for grief
And have reason to despair
They promise me that
If I walk underneath a ladder
That has been set up
I will definitely have bad luck
They tell me there is no doubt
If I break a mirror today
Tomorrow bad luck will
Be coming back my way
All these myths that reveal
Reasons to hide from the world
Because bad luck is coming around
Are all just myths that I don’t believe
If I were to believe in all the sayings
The myths that happen my way
I’d be afraid to leave my house most days
For fear of one of those myths getting me.
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