“Something,” a compound
word, wondering why,
back in the early days,
I enjoyed it so, until
“serendipity” came along.
The “knock-knock,”
“who’s there?” “Surprise!”
The knockout of my voice,
the showering of my dishes,
the blending of daiquiris
and splendiferous guests.
Then the more potent,
poetic delight of “plenipotentiary,”
the dictionary, the thesaurus -
better than the yellow pages
and Sears Christmas catalog.
No, the catalog was cool!
I miss it - my first babbling;
I wonder what sound
first caught my attention
at my mother’s knee…
It must have been something.
Categories:
daiquiris, words,
Form: Free verse
I had a dream.
I don’t remember most dreams.
I was cleaning the floors of heaven.
It seemed a mixed blessing,
I was in heaven, after all
but I was cleaning the floors.
It was a part time job,
I knew that intuitively.
I don’t mind house cleaning,
heaven cleaning.
It’s calm work, kind of Zen.
Are we supposed to think of religions in heaven?
At first I scrubbed on my hands and knees.
The floors are soft in heaven, like golden gym mats.
Then I thought of it, and suddenly I had a swiffer-wet mop,
just like that - and the pad never wore out.
After a while, I had an iPod, and AirPods too.
Then a daiquiri - a banana daiquiri with a pastel rainbow umbrella.
They make rapturous daiquiris in the hereafter - they never run out.
‘Heavenly,’ I thought, snorting out a dizzy laugh.
.
.
Songs for this:
The River of Dreams Billy Joel
If the Lord Wasn't Walking By My Side by Elvis Presley
Categories:
daiquiris, dream, extended metaphor, fun,
Form: Free verse
Taking my old Town-Car out for a little spin,
never suffer through rush hour traffic again.
Now we have time to see all those places we’ve never been,
baby I can’t wait for retirement to begin.
Me and my baby going for a Sunday drive,
only doing thirty-four in a fifty-five.
Slurping a raspberry malt from the local ice cream dive,
I can hardly wait for retirement to arrive.
Hitting Walmart on a Tuesday morning at eight,
going to bed when I want and getting up late.
Taking my sweetie out for a four o’clock dinner date,
man oh man, retirement is going to be great.
Just sitting by the pool letting it all hang out,
white socks and sandals is what it is all about.
Drinking daiquiris and working on my movie star tan,
now that is what I call “A Good Retirement Plan”.
All lathered up with a quarter inch of Ben-Gay,
you can smell me coming from a half-mile away.
As long as I am home before the sky starts to turn gray,
that’s the way I’m gonna live my retirement day.
Categories:
daiquiris, age, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
I have a friend who beats his chest
Who thinks he's tough, an ego blessed
He goes out clubbing, club in hand
Neanderthal romance, clubber lang.
He drinks banana daiquiris by the bowl
Experiments with chest wigs, an anthropoids soul
He apes around to attract a mate
A regular swinger awaiting his fate.
My mate's a primate, completely nuts
He likes jungle rap and scratching buts
He knows his trees and their Latin names
Defecates in bushes without any shame.
My mate's a primate, he's natures fan
A big white grin and an amazing arm span
He cracks nuts with feet, his party trick
Employs his member as a measuring stick.
Categories:
daiquiris, friendship, humor, satire,
Form: Rhyme
I dream of spending my hibernation
on a coconut palm in the Caribbean
where instead of sleeping
morning, noon and night
I’ll be too busy
chomping down nutty peanut cakes
and sipping daiquiris of acorns and coconuts!
Categories:
daiquiris, animal, imagination,
Form: Free verse
Dont worry.
The world will never end.
Your love will cast no shadow.
Urges ripple over water.
A grave is hard and without messages.
The Family Bit, beyond measure.
Our bodies dice, shove, and cascade
While Rigor Mortis sells daiquiris
On the Esplanade.
Wishes do come true,
In the warmth and below the blue.
Categories:
daiquiris, life,
Form: Free verse
The stars look pretty from down here,
Lying on my side.
This chicken doesn't want to hold me,
I'm too heavy for playground rides.
I'm not a child anymore.
At least I try.
Especially
After Strawberry Daiquiris.
Categories:
daiquiris, age,
Form: Couplet
Natural
Winter is ended now spring has begun
The birds and the bees are looking for fun
Days are now longer that winter is done
The best time of the year is yet to come
Some like the snow but for me it’s the sun
Swim in blue waters then go for a run
Look out for jellyfish lest I get stung
Only spot I’m not sunburnt is my bum
Long warm evenings spent with my special one
Sipping on Daiquiris soaked full of rum
Sun slowly sets but the warmth lingers on
Perfect how nature wants us to succumb
To our natural urges one we become.
28/05/2018 Monorhyme on nature contest
Categories:
daiquiris, beach, nature, seasons, summer,
Form: Monorhyme
I am in a saloon, where a blanket of glittering mist covers the floor, and where critics are shredded by Apache gunships at the door.
Hemingway sits at one end of the bar, drinking daiquiris, eyes focused on faraway places, big fish, and revolutions, big and small.
Bukowski sits at the other end of the bar, trading shots with his reflection, in a mirror, on the far, bullet-pocked wall.
Louis L'Amour hangs his hat, sits at a table in the back, sipping whisky, and dreams of cowgirl angels.
Andy Kaufman-- Andy Kaufman? What is he doing here?
Categories:
daiquiris, dream,
Form: Free verse
Ironically, the "peace" you seek
I sought too
Only not in a dream
This is the reality I choose
Here, there are no "daiquiris"
Or "dancing"
No loveless romancing
No more chasing chances
Hoping that love enhances
In a heart that's bare
One that shows
No compassion, No care
And especially when it counts
Never being there
With words of love
I never hear
My peace has
No expectations of tomorrow
Waking with sorrows
Created by torturous choices
Ignorantly ignoring inner intuition,
Inner voices
My peace won't allow my heart to lead
While my mind grieves
Or let my body's desires
Make me weak
In the search for unattainable love I seek
In my reality I'm happy
I have found peace...
Lay
Categories:
daiquiris, introspection, loss, love, recovery
Form: Rhyme
Christie MOSES is a great poetess.
Her pen MOVES with great finesse.
For her MORES in poetic verse,
Are like MOREL mushrooms immersed;
Sautéed MOTEL hot delicacies;
Ice cold HOTEL chilled daiquiris.
Relate a HOVEL to nice accommodations,
Is like a NOVEL with poor adaptations.
For my NAVEL hurts when I laugh,
By the GAVEL of laughter’s wrath.
I try to RAVEL all that I have learned,
But the RIVEL of my broken heart burns.
Orion’s RIGEL, Bellatrix, and Betelgeuse,
And PS’s NIGEL and Christie are my muse.
Inspired by Nigel Fawcett / Christie Moses...Word Morph Contest
Categories:
daiquiris, imagination
Form: Couplet