What kind of car is that? I yell, looking out the window.
Just an ordinary car, my husband says.
With a star on it and a cherry on top?
A police car? He guesses.
What on earth has he done?
Has he killed somebody?
Is he a mass murderer?
Is he getting served divorce papers?
I glare at him, wondering if he is a bigamist.
He goes to the door to open it.
Steps outside.
Sure. He does not want me to know what it’s about.
I run over and rip open the door.
It’s his buddy Jake, dressed as a police officer.
What are you supposed to be? I demand.
Jake and Joe both stare at me.
“I think I’ll be the sheriff,” Jake says.
I had forgotten he was running.
Because we live in a different county.
I congratulate him and go back in the house, much meeker now.
Steampunk Cat name of Charlie Boo
Thought his vices were mystery to Sue
Brought her violets in hue of blue
For it was she that Charlie wanted to woo
Sue was a savvy feline, with a keen open mind
She knew that many made fun of Charlie, which was not kind
Decided to give him a chance, for he might be a sweet find.
They were soon running to the altar, their pledges to bind.
The door opened and in slinked a persnickety cat with a pout.
She said “Charlie Boo, what to do you think you’re about?
Charlie Boo gave a whimper, a shriek and a blood gushing shout.
He was already married, you see – the big, bigamist lout.
Don’t worry, don’t worry
My fair lady
Oh! Sweet Brenda
The words came dropping like acapella
With cap in hand
He tapped this crying fella
“You’d be a blessed seer
To resist his words and glamour
I know you hope in him to find your Doppelgänger
But life is full of lots and lots of danger
And many live their lives undercover
So never judge a book by its cover
Remember not only gold can glitter”
Fairest of all Beauty,
One more thing
Before I leave,
He sips a glass of Remy martins
“Guard thy heart from Johnson
Cuz’ His sword has many beaten”
Depressing Thoughts for Today
5-29-2016
With aging came a bad attitude,
The things I enjoy, I can no longer do
The few things I can do,
I have no interest in.
Little pleases me,
And my patience skedaddled at mid life.
I care less about how I look,
That’s your problem;
And more about how I feel,
That’s my problem.
And I’m helpless to change that.
I’m now a member of the two hundred stitch club,
And pain has me feeling like a bigamist.
Never envisioned myself soaking up the golden years,
But here I am.
Since this writing I’ve had major back surgery, open heart surgery, Sudden Cardiac Arrest and have a tumor on my right kidney, like I said whoope! God is good.
4/4/2017
In their embassy trapped the journalist
Was accused for being no royalist
Was tortured then he was killed
His body with knives they filled
Now they say that he was a bigamist!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
22 November 2018
10-10-7-7-10
* The killing of journalist Jamal Khashogi by Saudi agents should be everyone's concern for
if governments kill their citizens and get away with murder it will not take long before each one of us becomes a potential victim.
I dedicate this poem to the slain journalist. May he rest in peace.
We poets should not remain silent but ought to speak up for the sanctity of human life!
You know what you have done
Our story has been told
Your abusive ways and devious crimes are written online.
Years has passed
Time has healed
Words were inspired and the most high has shield.
Children have grown
Bruises have scared
But the memories will remain.
Your adulterous ways
Bigamist crime are not ours to forgive
Tormented soul,I cannot judge.
I shall refrain
These crimes of yours are not mines to forgive
Time has pass
The hurt is gone
The pain has subside.
Tormented soul your words are untrue and unkind
You need to recollect, its time to accept
Your lustful ways
Deceitful crimes have brought us all nothing but shame.
Tormented soul you need to repent
These words of yours shows you are in pain
Your perverted ways are written on the wall of fame.
Tormented soul you need to refrain
Years have healed
Time has pass
Wicked deeds never do last
The children and I are now free from the pass.
The Bigamist
I don't know what to call you
I can't conceive this pain
I'm alone in this nightmare that use to be my dream
Why would you do this
Why would you triangulate me in this sick game
Who gave you permission to be so vain
Your narcissistic tendencies and impetulant ways makes even the worst offenders heroes on a bad day
Your childlike calmaties and distorted ways are so unbelievable and hard to disdain
What kind of monster are you that takes the innocense of their prey
I despise you for convincing me that love was here to stay
Only to find out another was already in your life play
How dare you stand there arguing that everything is a sunny day
You have no business justifying this disarray
I can not forgive you for betraying me in this horrible way
I did not sign up for this so please just go far away
The bigamist downplays and betrays causing innocent bystanders their own doomsday
Toni Ann Wekstein
Do you have any axe murderers in your family
No? How totally boring is that!
They add a little spice when telling your story
More interesting than your household cat
How about a bigamist or a felon of some note
That would be a total blast!
But before you climb up on your mighty high horse
Better thoroughly check out your past
Just having a little fun so don't send me letters
When reviewing this sweet little gem
Every once in a while I go off on these tangents
Soon be back on the track once again
Do you have any axe murderers in your family
If you have to answer yes to the above
I solemnly promise to keep it our little secret
And end with good wishes and love
© Jack Ellison 2012
Secretly married to two women,
I'm a bigamist
And an optimist.
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