"My dear skipping stone," I gently asked.
"What tales lie within your flitting flight,
As you tippy-toe skip over the water so fast?"
What lessons can you tell us, Oh shiny one so bright?"
"Well firstly, it's in the shape of stone."
The skipper's learned response began.
"Choose a flat smooth one, from the wet river zone,
Where smooth stones have collected in the skidpan."
"The next trick is the way you grip the disk."
"Curl your index finger around it, lock it with your thumb."
"Then you're ready for the deft wrist flick,
which will ensure a skip, skip, skip outcome."
"Like everything, it takes practice to get it right."
"A smooth calm water surface helps a lot,
as waves can smite your stone with such delight."
"Gobbling stones is the wave's unfair, cheap shot"
"Life is like a skipping stone's pace."
"A clutch of fleeting moments, a flip of flings in the sun."
"Embrace each leap with joy and grace."
"For skipping time, like ripples, is all too soon done."
With that, the skipping stone grew still,
Its wisdom etched within my being.
The stone sank gently into the water with all its skill,
Revealed to everyone and given true meaning.
I usually see them coming
this one caught me by surprise.
It hit me in the back of my melon
right between the eyes.
A cheap shot was extended
bludgeoned from behind.
Directly above an area
where the sun has never shined.
I need to be more careful
the tiny dancer keeps watch.
I guess it could have been worse
I could have caught one in the crotch.
Tomorrow is a brand new day
off the clock and out to lunch.
I have new friends that watch my back
for the dreaded sucker punch.
Sight, feignedly fixed on chess board;
Mind, slinking toward smart phone
---the Sacrosanct Savior that just has to be enshrined in the toilette---
urging new hot tips to hop out and help out.
Each toilette patronage pays back an omnipotent panopticon
through which to pirate opponent's move patterns;
Each stool stay serves back stunners,
or even sockdologers
with which to sock it to the opposite side.
Triumph and trophy, lustrous and alluring, though,
the way to catch hold of the twins bids no thoroughfare.
Steep seems improving personal playing strength;
Cheap shot against supervisory loopholes,
a nice shortcut for patzers to spurt into pantheon.
When wanglers walk off with wins undetected,
when honest players get snookered in the dark,
snollygoster's spirit surges at the epicenter
while chess ethos withers in the wilderness.
A short polka dot dress
doesn't belong here.
Amidst the predators
headless beer
dream benders
vulva vampires
cheap shot dead enders
so willing to blow hell fire
into innocent embers.
A dash of black out.
Sprinkled into your naïve drink.
Sticky dreams dying
in a puddle of sunrise piss.
Daddy always warned you about the curse
of a short polka dot dress.
Conspiracy Theories
Don’t be naïve do you really believe
That man could walk upon the Moon.
Just theatrical Cold War propaganda,
Do I look like your common buffoon?
Satellite pictures cheap shot trickery,
The Earth that we know is all flat.
Look at the maps both ancient and new
Spherical, we’d fall off and that’s that.
Quantum mechanics, Big Bang theory,
For Heaven’s sake do me a favour.
Thirteen point eight Billion years ago,
Milky Way and yummy Galaxy flavour.
Religion is the answer deity divine,
Finding ways to control populous mass.
Unquestioned devotion for final reward,
Heavens gate and a special gilt pass.
Giant creatures roaming the plains,
Millions of years before ascent of man.
Simply pictures made up in glossy books,
Entertaining Jurassic Park movie fan.
Climate change lies great Millennium scam,
Line the pocket of Mister green politics.
Ministers and Presidents will never agree,
Which of them is guilty of crass dirty tricks.
Dodo, Quagga and Flightless Great Auk,
Giant Woolly Mammoth and Sabre Tooth.
They aren’t extinct for they didn’t exist,
Conspiracy theories messing with the truth.
You opened your mouth, to shoot out daggers
when I turned my back to you
What a cheap shot... you coward
spit your cutting words at me
and watch me heal faster than you can cut
I am not one to be whittled
And now I have new armor
so you can not cut me again
I bleed for me alone now
we can't all be cowboys
cheap shot
no filter
Lightning surrender your strangle hold
On the heart of the tender
For if being nice is a crime
Advantage you will take time after time
But I will not surrender my outstretched hand
Even as out of the corner of my eye I see your cheap shot you land