Moth wings come by ...
Batting at the window screen,
To get in, they try and try
Where the light is seen
Afraid of the dark, are you?
Still, I cannot let you near,
No matter what you do
It is things like you I fear
Not that you can hurt me
Like a hornet when she stings,
I just do not want to be ...
Batted by soft, moth wings.
Benedict Arnold
took a bride
who batted her eyes,
and said, "which side?"
"the Brits?", he slowly uttered -
knowing which side his bread was buttered.
I wish the whole world could come share
This park with me
With us
This Sunday afternoon
Run under the spire of blue sky
Green Earth
Shoes to their feet
Experience a freedom from fists and elbows
Fighting itself
Within a slavery box tucked in a palm
Come to this park
Where a dozen boys in a mix of colors
Team under the basketball hoops
And whoop it up
And a field-wide game of cricket
Unfolds with Indian teams in home-made jerseys
Women rocking their picnic baskets
Pickleballs batted over a dozen nets
Dog walkers and runners old and young
Boys and girls gay or not
Weaving this tapestry of happiness
The river streaming by like leaves in the sky
Last flowers aching
Deer peering behind the Oaks
The slanted heat of October sun
Shined upon all our faces
Forever and ever
As one.
Sheba knew she was the cat’s meow
a tabby with a shapely bow
she twisted down the alley that night
knowing tom was hiding out of sight
tom was intrigued, she was a looker
her swishy tail was the final hooker
he followed her into the kitty bar
chatted her up; it was good so far
Sheba batted her eyelashes at this handsome Tom
She had been studying him; he was the bomb
Tried to act coy but did not do a very good job.
Suddenly ruining everything was her husband, Bob.
Streets littered with white paper sheets
Printed with the ink of black missing kids
Floating through the air desperate to find somebody who cares
Empty are the streets, just like their parents home
Awaiting the day they'll be reunited with their beloved children
Authorities won't listen
Not one eye lid batted
They look the black parents in the eye feeling joy from their sadness
And as cold as ice say their kids disappearance doesn't matter
They claim they've probably run away
That attention is what they want
So they won't feed into their kids 'temper tantrum'
Then to sprinkle salt into the wound
They claim the town has been much quieter
I didn't know that it was a crime for children to play
But then again when you're a black kid innocence doesn't really matter
Last week they stated BLACK LIVES MATTER
Then again it would be naive to believe
That a system built after slavery
Would care to 'serve and protect' black people
Maybe there is a reason to their indifference
Their ability to lack sympathy
Maybe just maybe
They're the reason the black kids went missing
we are badass parrots they said when they arrived
there were only three but they had the attitude of five
they strutted and threw their weight around
I was glad when they finally stomped over the mound
they are tough! I told the other giants fair.
one of them laughed and batted her hand in the air.
if they give me attitude I will fry them up.
so saying, she kicked the big one; his name was Hup.
the tallest biker chick came over and gave her what for.
she laughed until tears came out of her eyes like a downpour.
get back over the mound or I will stomp you like a bug.
this confident parrot ran for her life; I had to laugh at the thug.
Pinkie Cat was more than a teensy tiny bit fine
She was the ultimate pink-a-lated pretty feline.
She upgraded and uplifted our old folk congo line
Dancing her two-step self, with a glitzy shine.
Pinkie Cat was the ritziest cat we’d ever seen.
She danced her tail off and threw off a sheen.
We toms watched, thinking she was pretty keen.
She gave me a batted eye look, she is a queen.
I felt like Freddy in My Fair Lady today
Said the young lad who had a glorious day
In the window was his crush, Miss Ida Mae.
She batted her eyes, and he decided to stay
Look at this trick he said, climbing the post.
She giggled at him, not caring that this was a boast.
You are such a Freddy! He thought to himself.
Big deal said her daddy, a mushroom-loving elf.
Dilbert Digglewink, dangly spangly gentleman frog
Was heartily hopping all around the St Louis bog
Thinking he was all this and that, in his outfit dapper.
His toes and feet flopping around like an incensed flapper.
I watched him high and I watched him low.
He moved quickly and agile, he was never slow.
The lady frogs came and batted their eyes.
One with long lashes promised him a big surprise.
He left with one, and came back with two.
Dressed to the nines, he did a fine soft shoe.
Dilbert Digglewink, the most exciting bachelor around
Is doing a dance and a song; the big run-around!
Every Wednesday on the dot,
off to the newsagent like a shot.
A solitary sixpence,all my wealth
picking up the Hotspur comic from the shelf.
To read of my hero W W Wilson,the wonder man,
sporting 'extraordinaire',batted bowled and ran.
Soccer &cricket were a piece of cake,
leaving all others in his wake.
Bowling ,on a sixpence seven from eight,
above average Wilson was uniquely great.
He'd bowl all day at one twenty an hour,
never stopping to take shower!
In futuristic black body suit,
a record breaker without dispute.
My inspiration,this imagined prince,
never bettered ,'fore or since!
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
Every Tuesday on the dot,
I would be off to the newsagent like a shot.
A solitary sixpence,all my wealth
to pick up my favourite comic from his shelf.
Not the Beano,Beezer,Dandy or Eagle...
the Hotspur and Wizard were my kings regal.
To read of my hero W W Wilson,the wonder man,
sporting giant extraordinaire,batted bowled and ran.
Soccer ,cricket were a piece of cake,
he left all others in his wake.
Give him the ball and the game was soon over,
he even outscored Roy of the Rover.
Bowling right armover,on a sixpence seven times from eight,
well above average Wilson was incredibly great.
He'd bowl all day at one twenty an hour,
never stopping to take a shower!
In futuristic black body suit,
an English record breaker without dispute.
My inspiration,this imagined prince,
never bettered then,before or since!
Wonderful West Wind was weirdly wildly, wistfully whacky,
Blesiegingly bullied, bustered, boasted, batted both barns and boats
Soothing serene sage serendipitous Sun subsequently surmised
Weird Wind’s bullying behaviors were caused by idiotic insecurities.
Everyone loves you, Sun tried to reassure wild west Wind.
West Wind was indignant and did not believe Sun.
He tried to blow Sun out of the sky, which did not work.
It made West Wind seem weirder, and not half as wonderful.
Now COVID is ending, there’s cause for alarm;
The last several years, they’ve made bank on the harm.
The mandates have fallen; it seems they're all shot.
But Pfizer's a virus; it's coming in hot.
Pray for new variants? Or put life on hold?
Emergencies, fear ****: these never get old.
But maybe we've learned now: you don't mask a kid.
But when this mess started, none batted a lid.
If masking is virtue, and distancing too,
Then how will you signal when Omi is through?
----------
Oh, Medical Residents
Perhaps, nowjust, perhaps, it was worth it to break my knee and thigh?
As those groovy young Med students, made me so heavily sigh!
All had a full head of the hair plus all their teeth, oh wow!
None had wigs or false choppers, like a lonely cow.
It was heaven for me as they busily made their rounds.
I just batted my false eyelashes and made very soft, purring sounds.
Who wants to date older men, most assuredly not me!
Lock me up forever with the young ones, and throw away the key!
Being young, avante-garde, handsome, and smart?
I think is heaven sent, they all hold a special place in my heart.
Tis no joke my physicians name was Dr. Wild.
I dreamt nights away....off being his “wild child.”
Memories of my Recent Hospitalization
Panagiota Romios
11/30/2021
Tuxedo Tom was a man who was insanely debonair.
Straight out of GQ, he had a manly, handsome flare.
The kitties in the alley were giddy beyond compare
When they smelled a whiff of Tom in the cool night air.
He did not have a big head, but he knew he was cool.
Another cat wanting to fight him was totally a fool.
Because Tuxedo Tom had been to fight-to-the-death school.
And he was not beyond scrapping with any kind of tool.
The kitties in the alley swooned when they heard his patter.
They started licking and primping, and stopped their silly chatter.
Tuxedo Tom was the goal, they would whisper through gray matter.
He batted a hundred every night; he was a terrific lovely batter.
Tuxedo Tom could be frivolous, but never cruel or mean.
He was the dapper debonair Tom, the one the world has rarely seen.
He had children up and down the alley, some were crazy, others keen.
They liked to strut beside their daddy, and his newest queen.
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