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Best Adjusted Poems

You and I and I and You

You, who are so perfect in my eyes, so beautiful- adorable, and I, so flawed, ugly, damaged and crawling with defects; why do you enjoy my company? 

You, who are so sleek and slender, humming with a quiet intellect and a serenity about you, and I, so grossly overweight and pretentiously boastful and nervous; how can you abide my company?

You, who are a paragon of patience, so understanding and self-assured, and I, so insanely impulsive, so myopic and brimming with self-doubt; how do you stand my company?

You, who are so sweet, so considerably kind, so thoughtful and generous, and I, so bitter, so selfish, so self-absorbed; why do you choose my company?

You, who are so self-composed, full of self-control, so sound and stable, and I, so very neurotic, so completely compulsive and verily volatile; how can you tolerate my company?

You, who are so diligent, so driven and ambitious, so achieving, and I, so lackadaisically lazy, so uninspired, so complacent; why do you settle for my company?

You, who are ethical, so moral, so very virtuous, and I, so corrupt, so unprincipled, so wholly wicked; how can you endure my company?

You, who are so normal, so well-adjusted, so conventional, and I, so maniacal, so unbalanced and irrational; why do you condone my company?

You, who are bubbling with charm, who loves unconditionally and is absolutely accepting, and I, boiling with rage, fueled by misanthropy and incredibly intolerant; how can you welcome my company?

That you love and accept me for who and what I am, is a treasure beyond measure. I cherish your company, but why you cherish mine is something I cannot fathom. All I know is that I love you, my dear, beloved friend.

**This was written for two very dear friends: Karen and Tommy :)
***I also love palindromes ;)

*****FREE VERSE OLD AND NEW ENTRY

angerbeautifulcorruptioncrazyfeelingsfree verse

A Woman's Work Is Never Done - For Contest

My alarm clock was set to go off at eight
When I lurched out of bed oh heck I was late
Forgot to move on the clock for an hour
I was late for work – no time for a shower
I dashed to get dressed at the speed of light
My son was laughing - he could see my plight
I ran to the bathroom to clean my teeth and face
My car keys were hiding, not in their usual place
Ran to the car in my receptionist attire
To my horror I found I had a flat tyre
Got out the jack and changed the spare wheel
Jumped in the car how the tyres did squeal
Drove to the office into the parking lot
But why it was empty – oh no I forgot….
Bank holiday the first week of May
BOTHERATION was all I could say
Drove home slowly, just like a snail
Just in time to open the mail
Then I did:
The washing and ironing,
cleaning and cooking,
(had a few chocolates when no one was looking)
the weeding and hoeing,
planted some seeds that needed sowing,
washed the car and mowed the lawn
then to the hairdresser to have my hair shorn,
sat down with a book and had a cup of tea - 
need a bit of time relaxation for me,
Then I
washed and dried the dishes,
cleaned out and fed the kid’s goldfishes 
bathed the kids and made them a snack
got in the shower and rubbed my aching back
adjusted the alarm for the right time in the morning
crawled into bed and then started snoring
Tomorrow when I go back into work 
I won’t tell them my error or I’ll look a jerk!


05~11~15
Fictional write for Contest: Today I Accomplished
Sponsor Sara Kendrick

humorouslist

The Professional Farter - Le Petomane

Ted was a professional farter
and at his windy recitals he’d boast
that could even toot Moonlight Sonata
If his wife fed him baked beans on toast!

There was an annual farting competition
Held in downtown Chicago, (the ‘Windy City’)
Ted had pre-loaded his guts for the mission
To lose his title would be such a pity

Ted knew that the competition was stiff
His groaning guts how they gurgled away
He farted an exceptional guitar riff
hoping he’d be winning the trophy that day

Ted raised his left leg and let rip
But disaster was about to strike
His todger got caught in his zip
The searing agony Ted did dislike

Limping off the stage in great pain
Bitter tears fell from his blue eyes
He re-adjusted his trousers again
Could he retain that coveted prize?

Now Ted returned to his farting position
With the microphone close to his tush
And with determination and good nutrition
He farted all of  ‘Mystic Rhythms’ by Rush

The audience gave Ted a standing ovation
(Lucky for them they weren’t too near the stage)
And much to Ted’s delight and jubilation 
The judges thought his farting was all the rage

Ted was eventually declared the winner
And he returned home to his lovely wife
She’d prepared chicken curry for his dinner
To safeguard his job for the rest of his life!

06-30-17

bodyhumorousjobswindrhyme

My grandfather on my father’s side, was a pecker-toothed sidle who raped his
daughter when she was just ten. He threw down vodka from an eternal well and took my father out to buy prostitutes when he was just fifteen... It was here that my father first learned the true value of a woman. Mercifully, a permanent steel brace got loose at the Pennsylvania steel mill where he worked and crushed Grandfather into a pool of blood and urine.
My father was a dried seed rattling in an empty gourd… he had grown up
hardened with leather-stiff roots exposed too long in the sun. My mother knew
that he wanted to rape me, so I kept guard with knives and ran away whenever I could. I went to bed fantasizing how to sneak into his bedroom and kill him with
the kitchen carving knife.
My older brother hadn’t adjusted well to the chaos either, so he put all his expectations and dreams into a matchbook and burned down three houses in the neighborhood. He secretly, robbed his friends of their valuable coin collections. He grew weary and confessed and was taken to a local Mental Hospital for evaluation. At fourteen, I needed a good stiff drink! I was transferred to two different foster care homes and grew up like a weed.
My mother Dolly was an auburn haired porcelain bisque, matt finished doll from a
discriminating collections of dolls... her father's dolls. She was not a witty woman
but silent, afraid and alone. She gave birth to three children who grew up like
wild dogs while Dolly made Betty Crocker weekends and otherwise TV dinners
until she grew tired... very tired.
One day the brothers were playing with Dolly tossing her back and forth…
like a ball, one to another... until we dropped her. Fragile, she shattered into pieces
on the gray cement patio. My father came out determined to put the pieces back
together but clumsily, he repeatedly stepped on Dolly crushing the refined
fragments into powdered dust.

childhoodfatherfathergrandfathermothernarrative

Loose Change

I dig into the open wounds of self preservation,

and hear

                   ...from way over there,

my love jingling in your pocket

as if it were the loose change 

in your wet dreams. 

You were always numb to the mirror,

taking comfort in the blind eyed 

discontent you've reigned in 

with hard strokes of denial,

making your makeup seem

a little more made up in the dim lighting

of reflection. 

Don't you think? 

It was never about making love,

it was about forgetting.

My hips were a glowing red exit sign,

on the route of 

                           ....screwing life away.

Each moan, a promise that 

even though you were dead inside,

you could still make a piece of the 

world shake. 

Maybe even make something break. 

And that made everything seem

a bit more tolerable...

until I started thanking you 

for the damage inflicted.

The pain I felt, assurance 

that I was alive.

I'm not sure why that 

took the fun out of it 

for you..

I still screamed bloody murder

when you sunk your teeth into

newly adjusted nerve endings..

The pain, more real than ever before.

I guess you never meant to 

take a ride with someone just as 

damaged as you. 

You were hoping to be the only 

ghost in this city, still bound

to a carnal playhouse. 

But baby..

                I was a corpse long before I had any change to spare.

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

break upimagerylifelovefree verse

The Poet Rambles

the truth never told me a lie; if one writes a thousand poems one has a thousand poems written; everyone sees the sky as blue; Chicken Little is the only one the poet knows to see the sky as falling, therefore, the poet can imagine what it must be like to wonder if the sky will fall on her too.  Oh, and by the way it can happen because of you know that law (No, not Murphy's Law ((gotcha)) ), Godel's law.  Well, time for a dictionary hey?!  And even funnier, the poet doesn't have any screws loosw since the nuts and bolts of the poet are adjusted quite well anyways.  Well, scrap that concept, the poet doesn't actually exist except for in some macabre, abstract, poetic, humanistic, peaceful way that for sure will cease within the next one hundred years.  Therefore, the poet so shall choose to be the Biggest frickin', flippin' "Dreamer Be" in such a Divine sense as to ponder all things and mark the poet's fingerprints on life in sizzlin' accordance with the poet's law which is as follows: "Skip your mundane penchant for life and live a new existence-- exchange a size small life for a ginormous size dream life!"  Skip to the beats with fervid heat.  Off my soap box now, the poet puts her words into action-- Lights, Action, Creation.  Dreamer Girl gives way to her Big Heart!

dedicationlifelifepoemsskyfree verse

Beach Blanket Bingo

Beach Blanket Bingo (The Fab Five)

B etty Lou, beautiful Katherine, and
E leanor, Nellie Sue and Bethany
A ll playing Bingo, on blankets in sand,
C hatted away, happy girls by the sea,
H eaven-sent sun beaming high in the sky.

B ethany said, “Girls, suck tummies in.
L ook. Over there is a really cute guy!
A lso, we really should show him some skin!”
N ellie Sue said, “And he has four friends too!”
K atherine quickly adjusted her hair.
E leanor said, “Girls, you know what to do.”
T hey took off their beach wraps and made those men stare!

B ob and his friends asked to join the game.
I n minutes each lady was paired with a guy.
N o worries. Just good times. Always the same.
G olden girls shine like the sun in the sky.
O ld ladies, still young at heart, the fab five!

by Andrea Dietrich

Inspired by Linda-Marie's 
"Beach Blanket Bingo" Contest

happinesssuncuteacrostic

Meeting Expectations of a Realist-W

Passions for expectations with life were none
Till the teenage accepted life as it came anon.
Went to gym, played games, attended school
Swam in the open sea, life smooth and cool.

Might’ve been endowed with great expectations
In gestation to perform later in life like everyone.
Sprouted while in the university educational zones
Both of literature and dramatics as milestones.

Both meted out in career as a university teacher
Not so easy but had miles to go in my endeavor
Was quite fortunate to meet the inspiring persons
Who directed me to perform the righteous acts.

I did meet my expectations later in matured years
Performing Moliere in his own country and theatres
Attending the poetry conferences in three continents
And honors in literature that missed in early periods.

Aimed for the moon but reached the sky amidst
Never complained about the wind like a pessimist
Never expected the wind to change like an optimist
But adjusted the sails like a down-to-earth realist.

                             +++

October 14, 2014
Form Free Verse
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third Place Win
Contest: BIO by Regina Riddle

bio

Best Adjusted Poems

Can'T Get High Enough

Vignette

Growing Pains

You and I and I and You

A Lifelong Match

Get Out!

- Journey -

Rainbow

A Woman's Work Is Never Done - For Contest

The Professional Farter - Le Petomane

Fractured

Loose Change

The Poet Rambles

Beach Blanket Bingo

Meeting Expectations of a Realist-W

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