Give me a cozy armchair and my pajamas said Gee
He liked sitting on the savannah, pretending he had a TV
Why not get one? Asked the meercats, who wanted to watch.
Gee decided to turn his dream up a notch.
Maybe I’ll get a studio, with paints and such.
I could become a famous painter like Vermeer, a Dutch.
Or a space capsule, he said. I could be an astronaut.
The meercats sighed; but the TV was never bought.
This basic wish
Is the wish of every mother and child
The wish for things to be safe and fun
For everyone to smile
And not push and shove, yell and fight.
It’s the wish that drives them like sheep
Into the beautiful green pastures over there
Just beyond the bounds, always
Just out of reach.
It’s the wish to unite
Form a one world government or religion
Or circle to sing kumbaya
To hold us all together
Keep us safe in the night
And fed in the morning.
It’s also the wishful dream that fades
When Sun rises on another day
And it’s time to once again
Simply care
For all things we need to do
The bitter and the sweet
Made better by the fact
Adversity builds something
Nothing else can.
(11/22/24)
Gloria Gee was driving her dragon Mars home in style.
They were be there in little over a quarter mile.
She had painted her pick-up truck with hearts and stars.
How do you like it? She asked her new pet, Mars.
Mars had never seen a pick-up truck before.
I guess it is marvelous he said, hanging out the door.
He was glad when the vehicle finally ended at a stop.
He was fed gruel and cabbage, some fresh pig slop.
“Your food is delicious,” he told Gloria Gee.
“What time shall I be dressed for tea?”
This surprised her, but she said “what about three?”
He wore a black tuxedo and an ascot. Mercy me!
I'm ready to get rid
of this despicable mood
that others find cool;
I find it extremely sad!
Gee, I had enough of rain for days,
too tired of holding on this umbrella
under teary clouds of bright dawn:
it reminds me of beautiful Laura!
Let me walk on dry grass,
not on these wet streets
that gleam in full daylight;
they block my dim sight!
Gee, I had enough of rain for days,
my patience is really running low:
where's the break in black clouds?
Do I see the arch of the rainbow?
If spring has come to cheer up minds,
why can't I hear voices and sounds?
ah, rain is boredom, being stuck at home;
I'll break away, I won't settle for a bone!
Gee, I had enough rain for days,
enduring gloom behind this window;
when can I open it to sun rays,
and see below a swaying willow?
an hour farther
and...farting uneven...
hollowed be the game
the kink did come
and...will be done...
and nerves be less uneven
pork gave me this stay of
a daily tread...for an hour of...
trash-passes as those who
trash-passed before us and seed
us not...more time stay-shuns...
just deliver us our heaving as all meant
stan sand
It’s blasphemy for the half ashy to try and blast on me-n-my family/
Fits about brass class for free from that lasting Gee/
A ghastly last plea is all I’d need for a decree to decrease or desecrate/
I’ll diss a crate of hate with what I integrate and create/
Fate did initiate a wait to anticipate the plate with a faint taint and I’d dissociate
The phase we’d taste may have been a graze and raid/
It’ll stay and abase their grave base they blazed/
Fiddle away a trace to appear like zany raves/
Little to say the way his faith’s light is a conclave/
He prays every day for grace to pave a bomb wave/
Delay no more and move forward with your higher courage/
Away I’ll store her more oranges to ravish/
Fly high for yours and theirs as you’re a rad fish/
Plan and pour an attack dish like a bad wish/
A span sore and sad but a serene swish/
Send a band to bore and stand up to ceilings amiss
Gigi was a young mare
Who thought it very unfair
That she had a name
That was the same
As young horses everywhere.
I originally put this on in 2020
Foreign legion, desert sands
Long hot days and idle hands
Many nights a long time randy
Sultry maiden might be handy
Sorry son, the colonel said
Donkey tied up by the shed
You will find no ladies here
Donkey’s willing for a beer
Sir, my ardour’s all but busting
But a donkey… that’s disgusting
Son if what you want is loving
It’s the donkey or it’s nothing
Okay, Sir, I’ll try it out
But I’m in a little doubt
So I wonder if you might
Watch to check I do it right
By the shed his pants are down
Even donkey wears a frown
But he’s trained and makes no fuss
Soldier makes a clumsy thrust
Sir, is this the right technique
Colonel said you crazy freak
The lads all take a donkey ride
To town where all the girls reside
When I let one loose in the elevator,
I tried holding, but the gas had been greater.
Spreading in age, I couldn’t blame for later,
Every step I took, my body a traitor.
Three young man that were next to me,
Were trying to be respectful. One fell to his knees
Pinched his nose; Gee Whizz, Lady! Snickered tee-hee.
The doors flew opened, they buzzed out like bees.
8/1/2021
When I Let One Loose In The Elevator Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
Land Dweller, the tortoise knew he would love this young bull named Red Gee. He had loved the bull’s father, grandfather, and great-grandfather hadn’t he? You are a red Angus, he told the young bull, and you will do well at the fair. People will revere you and photograph you, and show that they care.
Red Gee trusted Land Dweller, they developed a bond thicker than sugar dough. Pretty soon they were together, whenever and wherever either one would go. Land Dweller was about a hundred and twenty-six years old, by now. Seasoned and wise, he taught young Red Gee to stay away from one frisky young cow.
She has her sights set on you, he told the young’un, so you have to be quick. She is ready to settle down, so let her go after that other bull, McNick. Because you, my lad, are a show bull, and we must get you in a ring. Comments and compliments will swirl around, praises will sing.
Red Gee trusted Land Dweller completely, for it was in his DNA
to listen to Land Dweller, and give him respect and friendship every day. It had been good enough for his ancestors, and they taught him in his dreams, to follow Land Dweller’s advice, for he was even wiser than he seems.
The woman with the Caucasian phrases never ceases to amaze this f***ng guy.
He is a malcontent who's own personal discontent leaves an empty void needing to be filled by her.
But does she reciprocate? Doubtful. Not like it matters. He will continue to flatter
His own self by continuing to flirt with her hopeful for an escape.
He will then ask himself "what is true happiness?" and "Does love truly exist?" All while going home to his wife and wishing for the new her to be his.
And yes, she is warm and kind hearted in nature, charming, charismatic, funny, lovely and graceful.
And yes, he is afraid. Afraid of losing everything and gaining nothing in the end, an existence all too painful.
But of course, he will do nothing about it... and that's what's hurts the most.
Gosh darn and golly gee, remember those nasty phrases
They've gone the way of the dodo, a real conundrum it raises
What could be more expressive
When frustration becomes oppressive
Perhaps “gee willickers” or maybe even “goodness gracious”
Gigi was a young mare
Who thought it very unfair
That she had a name
That was the same
As young horses everywhere
There once was an old carthorse
Whose name was Dobbin of course
He sat on the floor
Refused to work anymore
And had to be moved by force
Donald Trump is just as clear as can be
Immigrant children must be caged, not free!
Trump wants them all whipped
Before they are shipped
But "not on my watch" ruled Judge Dolly Gee!
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