Gobbles Poems

Sassy and Genghis

Sassy and Genghis they now get along
Sassy liked Kublai but he is now gone
Old Genghis still a little grouch
he growls at Sassy if she joins him on the couch
Sassy will at times kiss him and sniff his little face
when he is behind her sneaking a sniff takes place
Under the desk Genghis loves to hide and stay
when she crawls to greet him he growls her away
If on the bed Genghis cautious for Sassy rolls
he will yap at her and even hide behind pillows
Treat time Sassy gobbles hers right away
Genghis takes his time teasing her all day
Sassy lies down in front of him whimpering and whines
Genghis growls and wags his tail taking his sweet time
Though Genghis is little and Sassy twice as big
she never angers toward him is playful instead
She will steal his treat right under his nose
when playing keep away stay on your toes
They love barking together at anything in sight
they are more amusing than causing a fright.

Sometimes Sassy will sleep beside him
and Genghis is okay.
Without our sweet Sassy
Genghis would be lonely every day.

My dragon Rutherford

My dragon Rutherford is a dare devil out for a thrill
Along the way he likes to roast a good kill
I climb on his back, not knowing where we are going
If he says “bring a coat” I figure it might be snowing

He flies easily between continents in a couple of hours
He has other talents, some truly remarkable super powers
Invisible during flight, he sometimes messes with a 747
I tell him to stop it, or he might not make it to heaven

Rutherford knows I am strict but loving, he is my tight pal
He flies me to other galaxies, I am his favorite old gal.
He has been my dragon since July thirteenth of 1972.
Exhausting summer if you knew how many miles we flew.

He eats along the way, roasting pigs, sheep, cattle, and one time a boar.
I know he is getting ready to feast when he drops out of a soar.
He always wants to share, but I bring my own snacks.
I don’t like to eat anything that moos, gobbles or quacks.

Last week we flew to Scotland, which was quite a trip for me.
All because Rutherford had a craving for Welsh apricot tea.
He is a marvelous pet, who has best intentions about me.
I love my dragon Rutherford, together, we are happy, you see.

Orwell's Talking Head

1985. We looked for signs
not so much had changed
Wars in far-flung parts –
the same-O-blame-O.
An acceptable amount of body bag counts.
Was Orwell too early to be this late?

1996. Upheavals are restricted to
marginalized mobs.  Heads are talking more,
there is a nameless fear and it's getting near.
Fewer western countries are smoking, though
many simmer silently.

There was this elongated period,
decades drained away
leaving only a vague residue,
a smear of narcissistic self-indulgence
begat a numbness.
Then we began to crave more.
 
2024. Now we see it.
its head is a swollen tumor,
it talks in tooth bites,
monstrous cover-ups go unchallenged,
its control is iron clad.
The monster is now global,
it gobbles up dissident thought,
it re-imagines the nature of
Jello.

The only way forward now, is through
the monster's ever narrowing ********,
besides,
most now consider
the nature of the beast
to be the same that it ever was.

Get Away from the Bow

she has an ethereal ambiance
not of this earth, the pirates say
this does not keep them from staring
she is a gorgeous wench,
worth the trouble she might bring

get away from the bow, the captain warns
she is a siren, dangerous, not of this earth
she can do damage you will not quickly see
with that golden hair and that luscious body
the men ignore him, thinking he is crazy.


She is a beauty! Smitty argues.
We have not seen a woman for a long time
Not a pretty one! Some of the other men agree
The captain pushes Smitty into the water
a shark gobbles him up right away
What did I tell you? He says to the others
They finally get away from the bow.

TURNING OFF THE GHOST

TURNING OFF THE GHOST

what’s up with the ghost
who boringly stares
through two holes in a sheet
he watches
her every mistake
slow and agonizingly

she gobbles up a pie
her fork stabbing it
we don’t know
if it’s savory or sweet
it goes on and on
like a crazed murderer
then she spews
thankfully running first
from floor
to toilet seat

and still, very still
the proverbial ghost
in his long white sheet
silently watches

the best part
is when he slowly slowly
strolls to the window
and across the way
spies another “sheet”
they lift up a cloth paw
to acknowledge one another

this movie was listed as horror
i turned it off
it was a horror
i turned on “Good Times.”

The Termite and the Cow

I watched the peaceful cattle stroll
around the pleasant field.
We gain from them both food and milk, 
such benefits they yield.

However, when they eat the grass, 
they digest all that stuff.
The gas produced from peaceful cows,
makes air a little rough.

But what about that lowly bug, 
with termite as his name?
What he can do, with little help
can change the breathing game.

He gobbles up the wood and grass,
and does his worldly part.
Wet tears roll down my glist’ning cheeks
when I hear termites fart.

They pump their methane in the air,
not ending once it starts.
And all the people hang their heads,
whene’er the termite farts.


Termites are a major contributor of methane and CO2 into the atmosphere.

Wabi-Sabi

Wabi-Sabi 12-21-23  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wabi-Sabi

Empty the mirage of perfection
Whose shadow wears scars
Of perpetual broken rainbows –
Cracked rose petals –
Gilded edges joined by hibernation and spring.

A pilgrimage into amnesia
Timeworn victories fade into badges lost to time 
Moonlight swallows the waning heart of morning
Sunlight gobbles up unfinished faces of the moon
Storms inhale fragments of sunbows.

Out of exploding ephemeral stardust broken beauty
As galaxies toss and turn creating quasars
Like waves sculpt eroding sands
In the orbit of perpetual opening ceremonies - 
A journey into morphing excellence of golden seams.

And love grows to bloom then scatter rosehips
Into time’s silken wrinkles
Star born magma bows with gratitude
For unexplored shapes crafted on new shores
Where only eternity lasts forever.

Rebellious Rhymes

I’m run by rising rhyming rant, 
You wish you caught me but you can’t!

I wish to stop this run of rhyme, 
It gobbles up my time, no dime. 
I wish to turn to poignant prose -
Unstructured, unrhymed and verbose. 

I wish to write an awesome book 
With King of Horror’s type of hook, 
Jurassic Park or Bridge of Spies, 
(if nothing else Jaws would suffice) 
The one that catches Spielberg’s eyes. 

So here’s a clean slate of my quill 
Upon my fresh prosaic will - 
To write like Stephen, sought by Steve -
My resolve by next New Year’s Eve. 

As I construct my verse run free, 
These darn rhymes still won’t quit on me.
I guess I’m doomed and so are you! 
My rhymes rejoice, each year anew! 

Therefore for a New Year I wish  
For perfect rhymes, not perfect-ish!

Roots

I am younger in words than Shelly or Wordsworth
not as old as Shakespear's sonnets,
should I care?
I never did read a sonnet, that I could bare
to eat whole.

Those carefully quilted works of yore speak less and less -
so forced, so fed to the very last tooth.
Poetic perfection has a shelf life.
A fresh salad gobbles up itself.

Don't be annoyed, I did not invent the wooden ruler,
or the yardstick that inches along the page.
I go just words; I got words like roots
for tumbleweeds, and dandelions.

Turkey Take Over

The interlopers surrounded the old folk’s farmstead before dawn.
Farmer Jay wondered what planet they were now living on.
Their gravely gobbles were incessantly loud, it was a take over.
Farmer Jay’s hound dog was missing, his name was Leaf Clover.

What do they want? The missus asked her sweet husband Jay.
Not sure he said, but it does not look like a very good day.
Eat hamburgers and bacon at Thanksgiving was their soul-full yell.
They gobbled it all morning until the dinner bell.

Other demands were written down in blue and red ink.
By this time they had sold their farm to a young couple named Pink.
What about the turkeys? Are you taking them? The young owner asked.
They are your problem now, Farmer Jay said, picking up his statue of Bast.

Waters And Rolling Sands

Swimming in the cold blanket of waters
Sea of the unheard and unknown surfers

Diving alone in the middle of raging tide
Gasping strong at the surface of surging waters so wide

Your winking eyes that flash in shimmy skies
My drifting heart floating with my steamy eyes

Your smiles shown in meandering clouds
Splashing in miles blown by wind that enshrouds

My chest that gobbles and globs so free
My heart that paddles and throbs in three

Your face on water surface I gape and sketch
Your trace on the sea floor I reach that stretch

Waters is your pillow I snuggle on sea shore
Your body in rolling sands I cuddle so sure

I shall wait on this same spot with you I bind
The place you dropped your heart and left me behind

Upon your return, here I will always be
Your body and soul, your memory in me

Buffalo Lungs

They are airy light and crispy feel and look like cork, a yummy treat
Buffalo lungs my three dogs love to eat
A midday snack they gobble them down
A stranger dog treat could it be found
Sassy grabs hers runs and hides and gobbles it quick
The old boys sniff at theirs and give em a lick
Kublia settles down and begins to gnaw
lifts his head smacking his jaws
Genghis stares at it then lifts his head and growls
Watching to see anyone for his treat prowls
He sniffs it again laying down with the treat in his paws
Begins to chew the Buffalo lung licking the bits that fall
Sassy comes to Kublia whimpers and whines
for his treat she desires herself to dine
But for his treat she admits defeat
all of it did Kublia eat
She sneaks by Genghis who gives a warning yap
Watching her close in he does growl and snap
Sassy retreats and whines for she thinks the treat is mine
Genghis eats it all, so good he licks his paws
Dried Buffalo lungs a dog treat I never saw before
But for my dogs they are a snack for them a score
So reward your dogs with a crispy light piece of Buffalo lung
Small bag at Dollar Tree, order large from Amazon.

Candy I Need On Valentines Week

Razzles
Chocolate Bliss
Gobbles
Bubbles
Candy Shenanigans
Bakies
Lollipops
Butter Mints
Chocolate drops
i avoid them all on Valentines week
heading to Mimi's bakery for delicious striped valentine heart fudge

Wildcat Muskrat Cat Faerie

Who is she? We wondered as she pranced around foraging for carrion.
She is a blue-eyed witch I think.
The BEW turns and stares at me; she looks like a wild muskrat cat faerie.
I am terrified, for I have never met such a creature.
She appears to be royalty.
I stop eating my mouse and offer it to her.
She gobbles it up and then stares.
She is a beauty, but a tyrant.
I run, hoping she is not chasing me.
Cats like this break your back and start with your head.

Why Do We Look Up To This Bully

The little cats all look up to the terrible lion.
If they do not pay homage, he may eat them.
He gobbles the weakest runts and the old ones up in big bites.
Letting them know what he thinks of them, bullying and snarling.

Why do we look up to this guy? One of the smaller one asks.
Because it may save our life someday another one says.
But what if we all banned against him and stood up to him?
He is king of beasts, and we are mere kittens. Don’t be ridiculous!

So, the big bully gets powerful and looked up to,
And we get smaller and smaller, being eaten one at a time?
Now you understand, the fearful cat said.
I knew you would.

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