The best friend in the world,
This is his couch,
In the morning, when I woke up,
To gather his ideas,
Lunchtime for snacks,
The evening in front of the TV,
The sofa is a horse
Which we managed to train,
It reads Faulkner,
Mickey’s comics,
Diderot’s encyclopedia,
You can spill whiskey on it
Without him complaining,
To eat chocolate there,
The best friend in the world,
This is his couch,
To invite a dear friend,
and remake his marriage,
To forget Jennifer
And Martine’s reprimands,
To put on your ankle boots,
To put down your glasses,
To stay young longer,
To think of his mother,
To admire his garden,
The best friend in the world,
It’s his couch.
No matter its color.
Lulled by the electronic funk
A willing participant
Hypnotized onlooker
In a hazed stupor
Television
Time eater
Droning
Rest
Though humanity boundlessly drifts toward death,
We reach out for the false dream, toward the emerald blades.
Hear that low, breathy whisper echoing from the leaves:
"Come to me!
Lie upon my quilt with your beloved,
And taste the fullness of love."
The sun glows above, the grass dances below, and the wild breeze blows—
What is left for you to fear?
"Though I am merely a blade of grass, I bloomed solely for you;
Knowing death awaits, yet untamed in my longing to hold you,
I was simply happy, cradled in your gentle embrace."
here are the garden gloves I have been looking for
and my backscratcher, magnifying glass, and a few things more
I was against moving the couch until we finally had no other choice
Now here I sit staring at things I have lost for years
the candy wrappers are of no value at all
My old dog sits ignoring this mess
the puppy dives in, grabbing things with his mouth
why did we move this couch? I ask my husband
On Saturday the college game is played
And on my couch is where I shall be laid
To date the snorthog
has only been seen
late at night in the bedroom
disturbing me and my dreams
first he hogs the bedclothes
then snorts up a storm
while I lie awake
counting sheep
trying to keep warm
but before I become
a grumbly old grouch
there is yet one solution
have him sleep on the couch
Creativity comes and goes.
That’s what she believes, she named Cho.
Cho happens to be a potato.
Creativity comes and goes because Cho just knows.
When Cho the potato gets creative,
She eases in with simple watercolor.
Creativity starts to be invasive
as her mind races for more, oh brother.
Oils, dance, pottery, and art,
She gains quite the speed.
Cho doesn’t see art out of her league.
Creativity makes into her potato heart.
Literature, theater, architecture, film,
Drawing, music, sculpting, craft.
Cho the potato starts looking grim
As she spirals down and asks,
“Is all of this creativity making me dread?
I might just stay on the couch instead.”
Ladies marry the man of their dreams in a church
Eventually... she ends up married to a couch that burps
Happens the world over
From Brisbane to Dover
He could be an axe murderer so things could be worse
Nowadays, to buy a couch,
You make your choice online,
By picking out a fabric, color,
Size, price and design.
You do not have a way to tell,
When shove comes after push,
How it will feel once it arrives
And you plop down your tush.
So yes, you can return it
If you don’t like what you see,
But be prepared to pay
A rather large restocking fee.
I know there still are stores around
But few and far-between,
So I will roll the dice
To buy a couch I’ve never seen.
Laying on the couch long enough your bottom side looks like a prune
He started sleeping
On the couch
Years ago,
The main room
Where the couch is
Is where London
Wanted to be,
And he wanted
To be with her,
Even though
London is gone,
He’s not ready
To go back
To his bed.
Not an Idaho brand
Excess weight demand
Exercise in hesitate
Many people can relate
Body fat
Before and no after fact
The couch being the guest of human weight
For Heaven’s sake
The problem of give and take
Get up from the couch
Some people become a slouch
Exercise is the way to get rid of fab
Physical Fitness tab
Give the couch a break
If the couch had words, it would be “Get Up”
Start walking
Get that fat off
Stop being lazy
It is just crazy
All the couches banned together, and have stated, this is a couch potato war
We the couches refuse
We are tired being used.
I worry about a deep scratch,
That is on the glass, not the hatch.
On couch, keep a clutch -
Your blow’s a bit much,
When farts, with a stain, do dispatch.
From the Couch (3/7/23)
From the couch
I see all
When they stand
And when they fall
I lean back
On the couch
Change to chill
From a grouch
From the couch
I give orders
School, food intake
Govern borders
Is my voice
Heard from couch?
Does it carry
As I slouch?
From the couch
I’m no queen
Life carries on
Chaos unseen
They guide their day
While on couch
I do not move
I but crouch
From the couch
Fights continue
Despite my calls
Disorder ensues
Tiredness prevents me
Leave the couch
Ask my creatures
They can vouch
To the couch
I seem tall
As queen so stands
So queen falls
The plaid couch was well-built in 1972.
We purchased it brand new from a ritzy furniture store.
I was not fond of the plaid, but it was fairly inexpensive.
Little Plaid could tell stories about my potato chip binges.
Many of them ended up in bits under her cushions.
Her Scotch guard was remarkable.
She is fifty-one years old now.
Sitting in my granddaughter’s sorority house.
They needed a couch.
It’s so comfy, we fight over it, she told me.
They had dolled it up with pillows and artwork.
It looks better there than it ever looked in my house.
Fifty-one and you have never aged, I tell her.
Plaid never looked so welcoming!
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