Tongue Tied in Clichés: A Blessing in Disguise
A blessing in disguise,
a double-edged sword—
a far cry from peace,
yet all in all,
at the drop of a hat
we reach for a ballpark figure,
beat around the bush,
break new ground,
burn the midnight oil.
By the book we cut to the chase,
play devil’s advocate,
fill the void with food for thought,
start from scratch,
then get cold feet.
Give the green light,
go down in flames,
hit the nail on the head,
find ourselves in over our head,
jump on the bandwagon,
keep something at bay,
leave no stone unturned.
Out of our depth,
past the point of no return,
we read between the lines,
take it with a grain of salt,
see only the tip of the iceberg—
until at last we throw in the towel.
Said he, “Life is but a short journey, a dead end at best and over all too fast,
but along the way admire the view, enjoy the ride while it may last.
No ifs ands or buts, there are no shortcuts, we all fall by the same sword
and the race well run, from the starting gun, is its own reward.
The turning of the wheels wounds all heels, and in time, all wounds it heals,
so fill your heart for until you do, you're merely filling time
meanwhile the dial is really killing you.
As all you have is the now and here,
learn to burn the midnight oil, while down the drain the days disappear.
Can't stop the sands, hold the hands of time, or turn back the clock,
you won't see the same mistakes or heartaches
if you look at love as the key, and life as the lock.
For there is no daylight savings, as time awaits no man,
if time is money, no matter how much you save, you'll spend all you can,
doing this and doing that, to pass the time of day,
and there right before your eyes, the time of your life will pass away.”
Its always been the same crucible
,burn the midnight oil,
welcome to the new heap
dig the new shovel
Life in a private nunnery
waiting for euphoria
for someone to offer her a miracle
Like the calm before the storm
Shes so grateful
all awash in the World
the going gets tough
no pain no gain sink or swim
burn the midnight oil
soldier on stick to
your guns bite the bullet come
hell or high water
go the extra mile
the going gets tough stand your
ground dig in your heels
up and at ’em where
there’s a will, there’s a way on
the ball hang in there
I am turning half of my garage into an office space so I will have more room to scatter my unorganized thoughts into even bigger piles. Of course, my neighbor had to mosey on over to see just what all the commotion was about. When I told him my plan was to give me more space to burn the midnight oil writing poetry, he looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Well I’ll be darn, you certainly don’t look like a poet.” When I asked him what a poet should look like, he said, “You know… long hair, a goatee and a turtleneck shirt. Maybe round rose-colored glasses.” I guess now I know what the problem is. I don’t have a turtleneck.
Reality is
what we believe to be true
not what is the truth
We both had a passion
for books and nooks
so the library was always
a great place to meet
till Shush! Shush! we’d hear
Be quiet now! from the librarian
With the face of a mule
well you know we’d melt
into one giant gigglefest
and ditch the sullen library
to head out someplace else
we’d pick a spot where
mermaids danced and partied
with faeries and gargoyles
we would burn the midnight oil
to talk and laugh into
the wee hours of the morn
-Collaboration with Line Gauthier May 2019
We both had a passion
for books and nooks
so the library was always
a great place to meet
till Shush! Shush! we’d hear
Be quiet now! from the librarian
with the face of a mule
well you know we’d melt
into one giant gigglefest
and ditch the sullen library
to head out someplace else
We’d pick a spot where
mermaids danced and partied
with faeries and gargoyles
we would burn the midnight oil
to talk and laugh into
the wee hours of the morn
-Collaboration with Caren Krutsinger May 2019
AP: 3rd place 2021
Is checking crayfish gender easy as you might guess?
Tugging on the legs results in quite a mess!
First know your species, molting phase and such
Lift the legs and "peeks" won't tell you very much
Gender identification your first step towards success
Knowing if you have a Red Swamp or Bayou Cray is best
Although it's not impossible to identify mating phase
If appendages missing you'll have no sex to praise
So "good luck" as you struggle to burn the midnight oil
Enlighten with your knowledge the hopes,dreams and toil
Just remember "never give up" if it's sex that you must know
Carefully spread the legs ....your experience will show!
OK!! Love is good, love is good,
But hey, will it buy me food,
For bread with love can I pay,
And my bills and taxes too, I say?
For love, much I will toil
And burn the midnight oil,
If love be the legal tender
I'll work as a love peddler.
For my kids' room and board
And for the gas on the road
Love would be the way to pay,
So stash love for the rainy day.
Say, O say until love do reign
Am I merely dabbling in vain?
"You are dreaming again honey"
Taunts wife, "Show me the money!"
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