A wee bit of humor based on this Mark Parisi cartoon.
Chasing me was a cop flashing red and blue lights
I refused the breathalyzer, so he read me my rights
He didn't buy my excuse of having had the zoomies
He said, "In jail, you'll have lots of zoomie roomies."
I told him I'd cooperate and would walk the line
He agreed to that and said I'd just have to pay a fine
for doing seventy-five while driving in a school zone
and if I past the inebriated test he'd throw me a bone
I took his comment to mean he was being sarcastic
but I just smiled at him and said, "Gee. That's fantastic."
I grabbed my beer and took a one last long guzzle.
He called me beligerent and reached for a muzzle.
He said he had no pity for such a disrespectful mutt
I kept laughing and saying, "I'm not being a smart butt."
He called me a low life, punk dog and drove me to jail
Quipped, "Your attitude sucks! You won't get out on bail!"
She spreads the butter
on a square of toast
with scratching impatience,
smearing and slapping
the hardened bread
with a dainty butter knife.
She uses a fork like a harrow
in the jelly jar,
leaving lines across the top
where she dragged it across,
then glops it on
unevenly.
She uses a fork.
because she likes to lick the bits
between the tines,
and feel the hard metal
with jelly in her mouth.
Scrape, scrape, scrape
with the butter knife again.
I love her hurrying hand
that orchestrates
this action every morning.
The cinnamon toast
is slightly burnt,
and her sleeve is damp
from the coffee spill
on the linoleum table.
A crumb clings to her jawline.
She takes a guzzle, not a sip
from her cup that says:
“The Queen of Everything”
and smiles at me, knowingly.
In the backyard, the goldfinches
returned to our feeders.
A small female
turns her beady eye
toward us
with shared understanding.
To the one who runs off points with puzzle,
Who never give head to a racing mind,
At the silence of a night but guzzle
Words... more than check could balance doubting kind.
To the one who feel sad after words' treats,
Who never make legs strong to walk boldly...
At the faces of buzzing yet calm streets,
Words can not champion through deceit coldly.
To the one who fear defeating words' chants,
Who never was built for one to man lot...
At the peace of reigning beast's loyal grants,
Words- foaming up sheep to kill raging plot.
I gave silence to a mouth jogger's tongue;
Old refilled blank words of swollen loud lung.
Mr Wems Temmy!
Riding on a bicycle...
Will you want to carry me?
Mr Wems Temmy!
Jump on!
Miss Blessing,
Jump on!
Mr Wems Temmy!
Every stroke
On the pedals
Is against my will
To move on...
As the echoes
All in my head
Keep radiating
Her voice like voices
Of unrest frogs at night
Her words poke
My legs backpedals
Motionlessly still
Conscience swan
Heartbeats skip airflows
Mouth's words unsaid
Opened up initiating
My mind's closet choices
Into an awesome delight
Lonely, I share the mystery
Dancing to the echoed tune
Up with its low tone going high
Nouns into verbs imperatively
Makes me mastered them all
Yet absent is the face that speaks
Isn't this mind adultery?
Thinking of sandy wind's dune
Near the lake of my heart's sigh
Romancing her far mind imaginatively
Of how possible weather naturally fall
Cum constant changes techniques
Upon this weary thought
My mind embraces the puzzle
Of every tight filled storm fought
Watered mind's sighs thoughts guzzle
And again, I heard...
Mr Wems Temmy!
Riding on a bicycle...
Will you want to carry me?
Mr Wems Temmy!
Jump on!
Miss Blessing,
Jump on!
Mr Wems Temmy!
Joe works the gas station,
they still do full serve,
tops you off with a big grin,
if you wait your turn.
Chats with all the tourists,
shows them where to go,
that’s why everyone in town
calls him Fill’er-up Joe.
Fill’er-up Joe,
whoa, whoa, whoa,
Fill’er-up Joe,
don’t go slow,
folks need gas,
don’t you know,
they’ll all come back
for another go.
Works the bar for night shifts,
only one in town,
there’s no head when he pours beer
the folks guzzle down.
Chats with all the ladies,
makes the liquor flow,
all his friends, when nighttime comes,
call him Fill’er-up Joe.
Fill’er-up Joe,
whoa, whoa, whoa,
Fill’er-up Joe,
don't go slow,
folks need booze,
don’t you know,
they all come back
for another go.
Sometimes those young ladies
take a shine to him,
the man’s not that bad looking,
they fall for his grin.
The man’s got no money,
but those girls still go,
the next day his buddies smirk,
“Did you fill’er-up Joe?”
Fill’er-up Joe,
oh, oh, OH!
Fill’er-up Joe,
please go slow,
girls need love,
don’t you know,
they all come back
for another go.
Flourished and nourished,
hair locks resembling branches,
I gaze as it dances —
when blowing, he looks glowing.
Twenty years had passed,
but still, I last.
I may have ripened,
but I'm still the same berry, same fruit,
slightly fragmented, a little indented,
not demented.
You got a sample of me when I was at my prime,
taught a few tricks — oh, to replay our time.
Let me discover what you have learned;
still, I yearn —
like the eternal flame, I burn.
Do not read me as if I come with the label “handle with care,”
I am more than able.
Only sixty-five, still alive!
Round-bodied, the taste of sweet and sour —
come and devour during lunch hour.
Do not guzzle — sip slow,
take the time to enjoy this aged wine as we intertwine.
Oh, how you've practiced —
glad to discover upon this mattress.
Spring
is here!
Little lambs
are gambolling
in verdant pastures.
Soon the white woolly ewes
let hungry offspring suckle.
I smile as the lamb's tails waggle
as they guzzle the nutritious milk
whilst the ever patient ewes munch fresh grass.
Golden daffodils and pretty tulips
add colour after dull winter days.
Striped bumble bees collect pollen
beautiful butterflies dance
in the warmth of the sun
Mother Nature gifts
the whole planet.
Stunning spring
I just
love!
The Days
My mind is bluffing all the around the clock
Getting the real ones suppressed and block
I'm in a flow
I'm in a blow
But the clouds of doubts are covering it all
And coming back to me like fast thrown ball
Trying to change and learn
But instead just getting burn
Shutting and shattering in the corner
Displaying that I'm a good performer
But if replacing your sadness with happiness
And wounds with laughter is not a part of life
Then what makes it challenging
Perhaps realising this knock on my door everyday banging
The path I'm heading towards is like a puzzle
Leading unloaded stress and lots of guzzle
Heard people saying
Life is what it is
Although experienced
There's no much difference in dying and then living and in living and then dying.
Bow to the partner in the corner
Hey, this dance ain't nothin' but torture!
Heads lean left and circle to a line
Guzzle down that old moonshine!
Roll away to a half sashay
Get down on your knees and pray.
Circle round and round with the dear little thing
but for God's sakes don't let her sing!
Meet your partner and promenade
Slip a little 'shine in the lemonade!
Allemande left with your left hand
Drop him in a big box of quicksand!
Behold the beast, wandering in astral night
From dark caverns he emerges by starlight
to quaff nectar from his ambrosia chalice.
A leering creature with evil eyes of malice.
What nefarious thoughts does he ponder
as muscles ripple in his aimless maunder?
Does his venomous tongue thirst for more?
A pungent stench sloughs from every pore.
Empty cup held in gnarled gargantuan hand,
this goliath bellowed orders in foul reprimand,
"Heed my warning or tonight one of you will die;
the one who allows my nectar flagon to run dry!"
With each guzzle, the more belligerent he grew,
a frightful scene in which a battle would ensue.
The massive titan stumbled out in moonlight,
with ripe grape libation, he was fueled for a fight.
What brutish slander he grunts without a pause.
Frothing at the mouth with fallacy as his cause.
Scorning those upon whom he wishes to feast.
Brutal is bigotry when malevolence is released.
“God within me is the enjoyer of the aroma,
like this dopamine boosting flavor I taste.
I surrender all pleasures to the dweller of my heart,
breath by breath so that my soul may be chaste”
He is the one that loves me and watches me night and day
as I sip my coffee I ponder on my future and His way
How can I yield to Him when my hopes are on the fringe ?
A caffeinated woman highly stimulated by life, unhinged
like the fences of my childhood past, ...
He is the scent that clings to my bones at my most secret hour
the shadow that never leaves me, my Babel Tower
How can I be obedient until death when life continues to shower?
Juiced up to the max by life's contours I tend to cower
like the deer in the forest I shrink away fast, ...
He is the light at the end of a long and darkly tunnel
a few prayers on the lips and I am able to leave this jungle
How can I serve Him best, when all I do is stumble
revved up like a strong cup of espresso I can only guzzle
like a thirsty beggar, without a solid repast.
There are sacks of rotten rattlesnakes.
In a pit made of acidic hearts and coal flakes.
Bloody stumps where there once were trees of reasoning.
Pinworms have crawled from asses and into their brains.
Three-piece zombies are gleaning peace from our dreams.
They've already forgotten the lessons of 10/7 and 9/11.
The slaughter of our sons and daughters...of innocents.
They've forgotten the cattle cars and ovens of the holocaust.
How easily warlocks and witches whipped devils into martyrs.
Scorpions stinging away at the Star of David.
Their dark hearts looking more like pentagrams...
Making lust with fallen angels and ravens.
Step right up, folks... pick a side.... pick a side.
We're in the Armageddon foothills and plutonium rides.
It's time to draw granite lines and carve up the red beasts.
Guzzle some heavy, heavenly water and have us an omega feast.
We met in our enlighten yesterdays
when love was imagined
and we wanted to embrace the breadth of each kiss
fused upon our lips
like the first guzzle of water from a dying thirst
we garbed our hearts in comfort
and unearthed the brambles of our lives
that lay along the road as we journeyed forward
two travelers trying to bind the bonds of love's beauty
poems were written
and music from our heartbeats
soothed our souls in contentment
shining from the glowing romantic pearls of sensuality
we roamed to our farthest imaginations
watched the twilight sunsets
and stood on the edge of tomorrow
counting stars that glimmered and glowed
we spoke the language of love
with a tongue's fire that burned
in the sanctuary of our passion
where we crossed the blissful boundary of belief
and found the heart's blooming lotus
cultivated on our journey of magical marvel
3/4/23
contest writing challenge "J" words
sponsor Constance La France
You give it some kudos, like it does something good?
You say that I’m boring, like I’m made of wood.
You laugh at my reason, you smirk at my way.
Because I don’t feel your passion, because I won’t walk your way.
You claim I’m the fool, the party pooper because I don’t.
You goad me to be more like you, even though you know by the look in my eyes that I won’t.
You think you’re impressive because of what you guzzle down your throat?
But I’ve seen the damage that stuff can bring.
I’ve seen my blood splatter and wore the bruising.
I’ve been on the other end of the euphoric roar.
When madness descends because his demon’s to the fore.
I’ve seen the darkness in the bright mid day sun.
It starts when they’re happy but then the other one comes.
The stare of a deranged monster in what was once a loved one.
6/5/22
Underneath the night sky
No more Mr. Nice guy
My my, how time flies
F*** all these white lies
To you it seems out of this world and Sci-Fi
To me it's natural like a hippie wearing tie-dye
Another high tide
Rarely on the sidelines
Hardly feeling likewise
Much to accomplish in a lifetime
Took some tumbles
Held on didn't fumble
No longer puzzled
Disgruntled
I often mumble
Liquor I guzzle
Then smoke some diamonds or sugar, f*** crumble
Around the corner is often trouble
Feathers easily getting ruffled
Leading to a rumble
We'll see who is the king of the jungle
And who is humbled
Go ahead and chuckle
But how quickly you'll struggle
Then buckle
Before seeing double
Me and a bucko
Finished the job with stucco
Just know
Can't afford to be a Dumbo
Need to do it with gusto
House needs to be jumbo
Bank account needs to be Mutumbo
Got to keep it a hundo
Or I'm donzo
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