Holy cow, oh dear Lawd, sakes alive!
Sometimes English can seem so contrived.
I’ve finally made sense
out of whither and whence,
but should monosyllabic have five?
'Twas the night before Christmas'...
We all know how that goes,
A sleigh, some reindeer and cherry red nose.
The chubby guy with a bag full of loot,
Soot and ashes all over his suit.
Well this tale isn't about the poem or song,
It really happened and won't take long.
So, I'll get to the telling,
Of something quite compelling.
It happened one Christmas eve,
Something, so odd, you may not believe.
Santa fell asleep in my favorite chair,
The sight of that gave us a terrible scare.
There were millions of kids yet to go
And this fat guy might never show.
He needed a pick-me-up that's for sure.
A shot of adrenaline would just be the cure.
Not having that, we did what we could.
8 Red Bulls, plus coffee, would be just as good.
He quickly downed them, and got all hyped up,
Like a huge volcano about to erupt.
He hopped in his sleigh and started to fly,
Waved and yelled a hearty goodbye.
This delay could have been tragic,
But Christmas, we know, has special magic.
Kids soon had presents under their trees.
It's a good thing we didn't offer Santa Sleepy Time tea.
sunflower growing
in the moment of nature~
bulls eye for the bee
5/24/19
For Writing Challenge 3, May 2019, Nature Haiku Poetry Contest
Haiku poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
everything is well all around
look to the thens to see what
you've found
gather your thoughts
and be higher bound
look to the tomorrows
dance like no one else is around
I am a Taurus
so I know what it is
to be a bull nature/spirit.
I have been a late-spring bully
and I have been bullied
so I know one
when I see and hear
and smell one.
Donald John
you have fooled some people
all your monoculturing time.
You may have fooled all of us
some of our anti-healthy-wealth
WinWin
secular economic and sacred ecological time.
But
as long as I remain a breathing Taurus,
you will never fool all of us
all this climate time
of growing ecopolitical pathology.
The roosters are clamoring for attention again, big, bold, mannish and bad.
Putting up such a male ruckus, all about themselves, the hens are mad.
The hens form a Baby-Making Brigade, everyone joins, that was ever sad.
Even Trixie Doo-Everybody Hen who’s never been particular who is her dad.
They lined up quickly, organized, wearing aprons and cat hats with cat ears, all pink
They marched to the pond, around the barn, and to the Farmer’s wife’s pretty blue kitchen sink.
They yelled, and they cursed every bad word they knew, then they stomped and they shouted all in sync.
The male sheep thought it was super hilarious, until their wives joined, wearing mink.
Hats out of fur, dyed pink, really made those judging sheep husbands sit up straighter and blink.
Ain’t gonna be any fun-loving action in the chicken coop tonight, is what we all think.
We big bad, bulls wisely kept our mouths shut after Head Cow raced around to tell us what was up.
We were the only animals in the barn that night who had any fun, except Mandrake a Pup.
,
DURHAM BULLS
A triple-A minor league team,
most remember Bull Durham the movie.
I, the most spectacular firework set,
in the stormy sky. The kind of lightening show,
I think I shall never see again. The stands erupted
with screams and yells
“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken”
Well, we are in the South, with their choice of entertainment.
Looking left and right, wondering at the uproar.
The ground wet, the sky still, a mini diamond
for a balking bird, a mascot of sorts,
running bases, while the crowd cheers.
The game back on, after sweeping away flood waters.
Every home run produces red eyes and a snort, steam
aggressively fighting from the nostrils of the famous bull.
My young nephew,
proudly walks away with a team jacket.
Whether the game was won or lost, I don’t remember,
except we had such fun. Our American past time,
memories last forever.
2/21/2017
How remarkably interesting! Two bulls together. One old bearded and one young bullock. Hilly is not the way in a wooden floored shop. But pity those who ingest only the writings,visions,and worlds of the media shrouds. Cloaked clay. Ceasing core. Dare to argue then do not dream? Dare to reduce them and prepare for ridicule. Riotous zombie. Stagnated soul. Empty soul like procession of thought. Wildly has no part in a swamp like ideology. All uniformed and conformed. Constrained with their ingested monotony of their lives. Lacking leaving linking lines. Tradition born. Traditional trade. Time is of no relevance in an ever looping cycle of the same. Drip drip drip. On news feeds. But tuned out. Wake wake wake there is baking to be done. Souls spin suppers. Support sap. Stun sales. Stagnation stopped. Them raising soul atoms in vibrational hue on grasses. Plains. Go burn a custard then. Awake. Awakening. Alignments arriving. Arrogant and ignorance binned. Binary fiscal code in error. Good. Aerodynamics z. Zzzzzzzzz enormous snore. Ha ha ha.
I wake in a panic…
Dreaming of us in a tent.
In some city somewhere
Him, Me, and two dogs.
My guy—He has gone mad.
You see our family has gone crazy
He wants to leave town.
Maybe I should sleep with one eye open.
Yes--a good idea or
I may find myself packed and in the car.
I do agree--it is all so sad,
Everyone has lost their minds.
Their choices have been hypocritical
They lie and deny—to pretend it is not real.
But I don’t want to run away,
Why do we have to run away and hide.
We did nothing wrong.
Please, can’t we stay--I don’t want to be like
Bills’-- mom and dad and move away.
Oh Wait--good news has arrived
I have just been told That Pit Bulls
They Can Not fly… amen!
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
The market goes up
Holdings increase in value.
I make more money
The market goes down
Time to look for some bargains
Just have to hold on
heart, lungs, mind, power
significance of unseen
bulls exhibit all
(February 1, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
The hatred in those blackened eyes
The thunder roarin when hooves collide
The air beneath the jumps and kicks
The spins and circles and brutal dips
The humps and horns and leather hot
The smell of hide and a winnin shot
The announcers voice so deep and loud
It’s time for the bulls and the crowd goes wild
They don’t know the thrill and pain
That they bring to this rodeo game
The fan support is off the charts
And the bulls and blood is where it starts
A measure of selfworth
and two parts pride is all I need
the size of my heart is equal to its girth
I am humbly brought to water by my steed
all that beg for forgiveness do so in vain
to employ mercy brings neither lose or gain
and to walk triumphantly in the parade
heel to toe like a gent
all in hope to kiss the bulls
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