a perfectly mystical eerie Halloween evening
bats swoop down to gather in the graveyard
they congregate at a tombstone nearly forgotten
Count Emery Boldweather, an evil man
The stone once said 1912 to 1934
weather and time have removed these traces of humanity
grave watchers feel something is amiss, they head for their cars
not wanting to see what might be lurking in the midst of the bats
by the time I reach my car I discover the bats number in the thousands
Unsure what is coming, but expecting the worst, I want to drive off
Alas, my car battery is dead, so I am forced to stay until help arrives
Triple A tells me the expected wait time is three hours
From my windshield seat I watch as the bats unearth Boldweather’s grave
The lid of his coffin slaps open, the bats fly off in a swarm
A white corpse dressed in black lifts himself out of the grave
I look at my phone, wondering who I could call beside Triple A
Who am I willing to sacrifice?
There is that annoying neighbor, Gertrude.
The next time I look up the vampire is walking toward my car
I try to start it
Nothing happens
I am dragged…….
Today I stand in front of the mirror
Naked with a big cheeky smile
Eyes pooping out of their sockets
Teeth big, white and beautiful
I dress up and put on a flowery suit
I stare at my obviously muscular build
Almost at the door when I remember one important fact
You're not fully dressed without a smile
I go out into the bright, shiny sun
A still breeze caresses my shiny skin
I dab my face with my white handkerchief
Complete with my plastered cheeky smile
I drive off on a long stretch of road
Listening to the softest, gentlest tone
I nod my head to a booming beat
All while I wear my brightest, cheekiest smile
I get to a hill at a lonely place
I walk slowly to the looming hill
I look at the height with a slight relief
As I wear my brightest, cheekiest smile
I step back a little with a deep breath
I looked around but there's no one to see
I wear my smile for one final time
And then I go up, up and away
Bang the taut drum
Thrum-thrum
Conundrum
Pound sand
Ain’t it grand
Conundrum
Hit the bricks
Pay for your fix
Conundrum
Drive off a cliff
Life is an IF
Conundrum
Weather is weird
Climate is feared
Conundrum
When you’ve had every chance and all resource in hand.
When you’ve been in good graces and known where you stand.
When you had God in Heaven reach down just to line it all up,
and you still found a way to fail. How could that be?
You look back in disbelief, regretfully
and feel like a failure, jinxed by a charm of bad luck.
Then you’re forced to ask yourself, “Should I go on?”
You wonder if maybe the timing was wrong,
that if you keep going, this time will it finally work out?
Cuz now there’s an omen that’s lurking behind,
waiting to take you down time after time.
It’s hard not to think that way, wondering what it’s all about.
But success in a very real sense is defined
as - starting things over again, one more time
than whatever the number of times it is that you’ve gone down.
Leave that omen behind in the re-view of life.
Drive off and keep going. Don’t even think twice.
For now, you know better in all things… this time around.
Maybe I’ll smile
I want to unbuckle my seatbelt
And drive off of a bridge
As I fly toward the cement
I wonder if I’ll regret
Maybe I’ll smile
Because finally I can forget
I want to go to the subway
And jump on its tracks
As the light gets brighter
I wonder if I’ll regret
Maybe I’ll smile
Because finally I can forget
I can’t forget
All the ice cream and sunsets
I can’t forget
How your eyes beam and sun dresses
I can’t forget
How you would scream and get upset
I want to unbuckle my seatbelt..
I want to forget
But I won’t forget
You don’t deserve, to remember alone
seven women in new city have been murdered
in less than three months
news anchors keep the fear level high
women are afraid to leave their homes
especially at night
they have stopped clubbing
stopped playing cards
they are immobile some days
fear has paralyzed them
if they work nights they have a security guard walk them to their cars
checking under them and in the back seat before driving off
They roll down their windows and thank the security guard
One of the popular ones is Hank.
He loves walking them to their cars.
Likes that they feel safe with him.
Most never know they are thanking the murderer
before they drive off….
Hal walks back into the hospital,
shopping for his next victim.
Have you ever wondered about all the things that require your signature in life
How about a marriage certificate, I now pronounce you man and wife
A steady hand is needed as you buy your first home
If a writer's cramp occurs with so many places to sign, you are not alone
The car of your dreams you are about to drive off the lot
Or maybe the insurance for that car you just bought
Your passport for an upcoming dream trip you are about to take
The officer speeding ticket for moving too fast, oh for heaven's sake
Your birth certificate your parents sign to prove you are alive
Your driver's license after you show you know how to drive
The only thing I would like to sign is a big check from the lottery I just won
One more stroke of the pen and my work day will be done
Though few drive off-road in their truck
Pick-up owners have run amok
Having a tail gate
Their mood will elate
While the cabin carries a schmuck
Author's note: A pass to those folks who use their truck for business on a regular basis. However, a status truck reveals a weak mind and hurts the environment more than a "normal" car. Those are already bad enough.
I am the man who sits under the overpass.
I'm just a blink when traffic is moving,
but more closely-eyed when cars go by slow.
Some pause in inquiry, wanting to know if I'm okay.
Others pull over and offer help to me,
to which I say,
I am fine.
They drive off bewildered,
pondering their comparative, comfortable lives.
They cannot understand why I do what I do.
To every person in every car that passes by,
I say,
I'm not sitting here for me,
I'm sitting here for you.
The child gets out of his daddy’s car and says, “He is in a hurry.”
“Where is he going?” I ask.
“He has court.”
I ask no more questions.
Two weeks later I am opening the car door which never opens.
Daddy thanks me.
The son says “Court again” in a sad way.
I keep quiet.
Today it is two months later.
This time I am slow to open the stuck door.
Daddy gets out. He is wearing a mismatched suitcoat and a tie.
“Wow! “I say “Going somewhere special?”
“Court,” he says. “I am an attorney.
I would have never guessed this in a million years.
I watch him drive off in his sixteen-year-old beater in silence.
“Court again” his son says sadly.
A morning moment
The owner of a black cat
Sits on a chair by the open door, on the shady side of the road
Reading yesterday’s paper.
The moggy opens its eyes they are like a creamy zabaglione
When I walk past.
The feline sees me then closes its eyes again.
The owner of the cat gets up with tail erect
Marches into the house
The door closes
The man starts up his scooter drive off in a haze of sunlight.
The children pop out of the cars and head for the school door.
Some parents barely let their feet clear before they drive off.
One or two will give a cherry wave.
One mom always yells “have fun, you brats!”
I never know if she is speaking to them or us teachers.
One daddy makes this dropping off time an enormous production.
He drives up rather late and does not turn down his offensively loud music.
He gets the child out, unzips her backpack, hands her a mask.
She rejects it for another color. So, they start rooting around in the back seat.
The other car drivers are all rolling their eyes by now.
I think “it will be another fifteen minutes; this Daddy is needy.”
Sometimes the child will run to me and give me a hug.
He has to call her back to straighten her hair, her shoes, her bows.
We have no other parents needing this kind of attention.
I wonder about this.
all small broken alone
where the shadows roam
a child hides in a dark home
tick tock murmured the clock.
while branches dance
and rattle like brittle bone.
toys scattered around the floor after a wars drone.
a child fights to drive off the night
lying in a ghostly light
flying through haunted moor
floating with a winter moon
broken alone with a whisper of a moan.
bong bong groaned the bell
like a child's distant wail
deep in the heart of night
all broken feeling alone.
scatted in a child's thoughts
like toys in a dark dream
tick tock rambled the clock
all small broken alone
a shadow rises on the floor
spill of light while branches shatter like china.
chatter like teeth in a child's pure sleep
Loosing the night in the moons ghostly chilly light
Desperate Dan
There’s a man who's known as Desperate Dan
Who's travelled the world in his camper van
He'd love gals and leave ’em
Without giving reason
Then would drive off with just a "thank you mam."
Unaware, Dan had sired ten strapping sons
Waiting to have their revenge for all wrongs
When he was spied in town
They let all his tyres down
And hung him from a tree by his ding dongs.
2nd March 2021
Two Limericks - Let’s have some Fun! Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
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Add on
As hung there up on high for all to see
Had a hot sensation; had to go pee
He was in a pickle
Pee started to trickle,
The onlookers got sprayed on by his wee.
Written by Alexis
In my burb, cool cars are superstars,
They never seem to travel far,
They drive off to the bottle shop,
Head off home, dodging the cops,
Maybe they seek lively young babes,
I think the ho's are laughing away,
Your fun police I am not,
Another trip to the bottle shop,
I do not care where your mufflers are,
Cool cars here are superstars!
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