They say all men need a hero.
Mine lived primarily on gorp.
So, listen long and listen slow
To the sad tale of Oglethorpe.
He was bigger than a breadbox,
Or a sly pygmy jumbotron,
About as clever as a fox
Or a six-sided pentagon.
How did my wife get the idea?
Did she learn it in her coven
Or from that cookbook from Ikea
When she put him in the oven?
The first hour, he began to swell.
Another hour caused him to warp.
The final hour sent him to Hell.
Goodbye, my hero Oglethorpe.
Categories:
breadbox, hero, humor, nonsense, silly,
Form: Quatrain
Salt, yeast, and flour,
Roll the dough,
Rise for an hour.
Rye, Wheat, Oatmeal too!
Take a piece,
Toast and jam for you.
Try and taste the rest
But you know
Pizza is the best!
Try bagels and Lox.
No more bread?
Open the breadbox!
Categories:
breadbox, food,
Form: Rhyme
Take care not to get hold
Of bread that's very old
Behind the breadbox door
A microscopic spore
May have turned it to mold.
Sometimes mold is blue
or white or gray or green
Some mold is so small
it can't even be seen.
If you ate moldy bread
Mold would get in your head
It would eat up your brain
And make you insane.
Remember what I said.
Categories:
breadbox, children, fear, horror, mental
Form: Rhyme
Communication has gotten erratic,
there's a lot of outside interference
Aluminum yawning creates constant static
I can't hear you ... can you hear me?
Stonewalls separate us,
frequent bathroom stalls
breaks the mood, flushes the trust
How did this happen to us?
I'd be the first to admit, we have a problem
Calling Houston, code red: Alpha, delta, sand, fox
Our love has become stale,
left unattended for too long in the marital breadbox
Inaction is squeezing the life out of us
Anaconda divorce sounds fatal
Alpha, delta, sand, fox ---
Our marriage is falling at terminal velocity,
time is speeding up on the self-destruct clock
We have a serious problem, dear
Do you hear me talking, tell me you can hear
We have us a critical problem,
and we both need to try and figure it out,
time is ticking down on the self-destruct clock
We have a big problem here
Calling Houston, code red:
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
Anaconda divorce sounds fatal
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
We're headed for a crash landing
Calling Houston, code red:
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
This marriage is almost dead
Alpha, delta, sand, fox
Unless we find the missing answers in the black box
Categories:
breadbox, anxiety, divorce, love hurts,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
My Evenings With a Mouse
Once I shared my evenings with a mouse
By cliff face tall in tiny house
By Fraser river flow, near Chilliwack
By a truckers’ café I had my shack
One room, kitchen nook, and can,
Not enough for a married man.
Away from home five days a week.
I thought I was alone, but then - I
Found scat near breadbox tin
Found shavings near, and shredded socks.
And then a visitor let out a squeak
Bulging eyes and bristled nose
It stood upright, chin touched toes.
Were we lonely, would we find compassion?
Next four days I served supper to companion
Crumbs, pork, pasta and milk
Before I headed home to lingerie in silk.
Set out meat, cheese, fries, bread leftovers
Made it good for rodent stay-overs.
Returned, I found the timorous creature
Had met a most dastardly departure
It had looked for a watering hole.
Now it floated, dead and toilet-bloated
It seemed crude just to flush it away
So I carried it out for burial on a silver tray.
Categories:
breadbox, animal,
Form: Prose Poetry
A LATE VISITOR
Sleepless, he’d taken seat
In an overstuffed chair
Lamp not lit, nor diversion sought,
Just sitting there
Worrying on about problems of day
Listening for answers night wouldn’t say
II
I hear wheels of a horse drawn coach
In London Town fog
“Bring it round, you merry coachman
Bring it round!”
Off the avenue where I stand
Hat in clouds, shoes on the ground
The in between a fright and swimming round
Hear? between those dock, dock sounds
My shouting voice?
“Bring it round, you cocksure coachman
Bring it round!”
III
All’s quiet
Snow, I’m sure, will drift to ten feet
Outside the window – or more
Old downy dog’s acurl in a corner
When I’m off he’ll choose the rocker
The feeling’s like one preceding
A mystic midnight meeting
Of spider and fly
Or mice in a breadbox, eating
All’s quiet all’s well
And the old clock’s ticking…ticking… ticking…
Categories:
breadbox, mystery,
Form: Free verse
FIVE SEASONAL HAIKU
frozen is the moon
every star an icy tear
odd sort of beauty
frost nipped the pumpkin
charmed us all but never left
strange jack-o-lantern
hear their forlorn howl
misting muzzles raised on high
cruel winter’s heralds
sitting by the hearth
old dog asleep and dreaming
hot wood fire crackling
mantel clock tick tock
two mice in breadbox eating
i without a care
Categories:
breadbox, seasons,
Form: Haiku
I've got a clever new invention in the works
Going to make a fortune when I work out a few quirks
It's no bigger that a breadbox and lighter than a feather
It's easily transported and is not affected by the weather
It measures poetry frustration on a scale of one to ten
Sounding an alarm when you must put down your pen
It measures blood pressure, caffeine, and problems with the soup
You can even program it to give a heads-up to your group
The idea is to prevent the loss or graying of your hair
And to keep expletives from fouling up the air
To keep the cost down it comes in just one style
Am working on a sporty model if you can wait awhile
So--
If on the brink of insanity poetry makes you teeter
You may want to try my trusted Fruspoemeter......
Categories:
breadbox, funny, imagination, poetry,
Form: Couplet
a care
FIVE WINTER HAIKU
frozen is the moon
every star an icy tear
odd sort of beauty
frost nipped the pumpkin
charmed us all but never left
strange jack-o-lantern
hear their forlorn howl
misting muzzles raised on high
cruel winter’s heralds
sitting by the hearth
old dog asleep and dreaming
hot woodfire crackling
mantel clock tick tock
two mice in breadbox eating
i without a care
Categories:
breadbox, seasons
Form: Haiku
I laid it down beside me
just an hour ago.
It seems I must have lost it,
or dropped it on the floor.
Why does it seem so hard
to keep it in my grasp?
I never seem to find it, where
I thought I used it last.
Now, where was it on Tuesday?
I NEVER seem to know!
The thought of it just comes to me
right when I want it most.
I needed it last weekend
but my daughter came too late.
I wanted her to see it
when my grandson came to play.
My friend around the corner
always has hers when
the time comes she must use it.
I think she must have ten!
The pastor’s wife found hers one day,
just in the nick of time.
She always has it with her now.
“O’ Lord, where’d I put mine?”
I’ve looked inside the breadbox
and underneath my bed.
It wasn’t in the basement, now
My face is turning RED!!
“O’ Lord, I’m tired and flustered,
back where I’ve been before.
I’ve lost MY PATIENCE once again.
Oh Please, just give me more”!
Categories:
breadbox, faith, family, funny, lifelost,
Form: Rhyme