It starts small~
a sigh sharp enough to slice drywall,
a muttered well I never,
then a dramatic shuffle of papers
that did absolutely nothing wrong.
Then the arms cross.
The eyebrows rise.
The soul leaves the body
for a brief smoke break.
Suddenly this fully grown human~
tax-paying, grocery-shopping,
responsible-for-a-mortgage human~
is having a full-tilt hissy fit
because the Wi-Fi blinked
or someone said calm down.
There’s foot tapping.
There’s theatrical breathing.
There’s a moment where they stare
into the middle distance
like a pioneer widow
who just broke the last jar of peaches.
And you stand there thinking,
Lord help us,
the toddler has escaped
and taken over the adult body.
But eventually~
after the sighs,
the flutters,
the tragic monologue
about how no one understands
the gravity of the situation~
they return to themselves,
smooth their shirt,
clear their throat,
and say with great dignity,
“I’m fine now.”
Painful among pains is separation
that will throw yourself into desperation
no matter the time of it
it's more harmful than a hissy fit
It's a kind of desperation
Oh! A very painful situation
Either it’s a two-legged man
that you have termed as human
or a four-legged man
that you tamed with humane
If it leaves once
and never comes
pain remains in heart
and often saddens a lot
outside, I usually I keep my stegosaurus Wild Willie hidden,
but if I shriek he comes at a gallop, feeling validated and bidden.
Police have come twice, called by my neighbor Sam, who is full of fright.
I laugh, asking who has ever seen a real dinosaur, right?
Willie cannot got to work with me, because I work at an elementary school.
They do not even allow pets, for fear they might sweat, potty, bite or drool.
He stays at home in his corner eating eggs and rice, watching Netflix.
His tail accidentally opens the curtains, which causes a real conflict.
I bring home eggs and rice, so Willie is totally content and clean.
He has a little poo pile out back, where his poos are used for flower sheen.
We have never had an argument or disagreed on anything remotely big.
Except he did have a hissy fit when I suggested adopting a pot-belly pig.
She is out of her mind her relatives said.
They wanted her embalmed, cremated or dead.
Lucinda had her wits and was not to be dissuaded.
She gave them all the boot, they were downgraded.
She had a dream, and intended to put it into action.
Wanted a gingerbread house to give satisfaction.
Builder and construction crew were happy to do it.
Relatives inheriting nothing had a huge hissy fit.
Bookshelf was bragging a little bit
Plants love my shelves!
End table had a hissy fit.
observed by three elves.
Why do you brag like this? She angrily said.
Irritated because her orchid plant was terribly dead.
Bookshelf had a bit of a secret too.
Plants that loved him were the ones that do….
Like living in the shadows, no sunlight hue.
He did not help End Table, for she was not that nice.
She stuck out her drawer tongue, not once, but twice.
The weather forecast was right,
the climate did indeed change,
mother Earth threw a hissy fit.
Damage was done needlessly.
Good men and a few women wept,
most shrugged - as I do - did.
Cities are under a threat
nothing specific, just random rumors.
Miami is basking as usual
however whales are dying
in numbers
environmental concerns were shelved
ignored,
prairie dogs dug deeper holes
They knew
they knew all along!
If only I had turned on the TV.
and not overslept
dreaming of an afterlife in Key West.
The geese have come.
They congregate in
parking lots, preen and strut.
Today they waddle in line
as smug as fat gangsters
as they slowly cross a busy road.
We are not allowed to shoo them,
hurry them, harry them,
besides they are always bad tempered,
always ready to throw a hissy fit.
We wait, engines idling,
feel good about being this patient,
this considerate for their well-being.
I wonder what they think about us;
we who daily get in their way?
In less sensitive times
we would tuck a plump goose under an arm
on our way to Christmas.
Progress I guess.
new dog on the porch
our pet cat at the window
shrieks like a banshee
Indignation hair-raisingly sounded
when our “queen” cat was more than astounded
by the new pet Dad brought
to the house. Cat wailed “NOT
on MY watch.” Then that poor dog she hounded.
our cat’s hissy fit goes down as the worst in her catdom’s hiss-tory.
Jan. 25, 2022
For Charles Messina's Charlie Hai-Lim-Ku Poetry Contest
(inspired by a YouTube Video I saw on FB. it just cracks me up)
Doo Doo the cat was irritated today; totally not sweet.
She had gone to the roof, and Horned Owl was sitting in her seat.
That is my place, she said, but his look could easily defeat.
He rolled his eyes, and went to sleep, his thoughts now complete.
Come on! Doo Doo shrieked. I need my seat; it is where I sit.
She screamed and yelled and stomped, had a big hissy fit.
Horned Owl raised an eyebrow but it did not annoy him one bit.
He closed his eye back up, to a narrow tiny half slit.
Doo Doo nearly had a conniption fit, she was angry as heck.
She went down to the barn and spoke to the hen named Old Peck.
You are annoying a Horned Owl? You are as crazy as young Beck.
Who is young Beck? She asked. A chick eaten by Horned owl. Oh heck!
Do Horned Owls eat cats? Doo Doo asked, horrified and now scared.
If you go back up there, you will find out, Old Peck said. She cared.
So Doo Doo the cat let Horned Owl have her favorite seat on the roof.
But she carries pepper spray now. Horned Owl’s eyes carry the proof.
Marvelous Minnie had a hissy fit and threw her lamp down the stairs.
It hit an elf, a gargoyle, and four children dressed as Goldilocks and the Bears.
They ran up to see what was going on in the Witch’s crazy old mind.
I am sorry, she said. I did not think ahead, this was truly unkind.
And so they forgave her, but the next thing she decided to do….
Was to throw stuff out the window, and a couch landed on two.
They were shrieking and screaming and wailing to beat the band.
I don’t even care, she said. I thought their motives were underhand.
Come on! Her Auntie Feefife said. Give them a break, they turned into curd.
Transmogrify them into something else please, their squawking is rather absurd.
A radical racist
American hating mixologist
(along with a trio of she devils)
want to clip the ability
of God's children
to defend themselves
from terrorist attacks.
She didn't get her wish
threw a hissy fit
wept jackass tears
over the house of congress.
They'll keep trying to crush Israel
as Satan's lot are a persistent bunch...
Their hearts brimming with lye,
Souls so thick with arrogance.
They think they can spar with God and survive...
The courtyard of God is pristine; his wrath is fathomless.
Within those karmic depths is where those hateful rats will drown.
Trixie is begging me to write something new
She is on my toes, twirling her baton with lights all blue
They are flashing in my eyes, beeping in my face.
She is agitated, says I am a huge disgrace.
The stuff you are writing today is something already seen.
I stick out my tongue, feeling childish and mean.
That is not attractive she says, with a snotty huff.
So I get out my fingers and start writing stuff.
Does she help me? Not in the least not a bit.
And to think she was the one having the hissy fit.
She is in a weird mood, this little muse of mine.
But it is okay, because most days she is fine.
She is coming over to peek at what I have done.
She rolls her eyes and says "That isn't any fun!"
Now she is typing, taking the keyboard away.
I have no qualms that we'll make up by the end of the day.
3 Senryu and a few Limericks
an eerie shadow
a hand touches my shoulder
....a double parked broom
shrieks in the graveyard
skeletons in the moonlight
.....a timpani of old bones
arched backs and Mohawks
claw marks and a hissy fit
......broom stick rumble seat
The Corona virus mask
creates a Halloween task
how to eat candy
even when handy
the same problem exists for dad's flask
The witches and ghoulies are running late
rushing with potions to seal our fate
if it gets much sicker
I'll just use the clicker
and move to a colorless state
John G. Lawless
10/9/2020
Micro Burst
I live in Old Town
Up on the tenth floor
my windows face west
And when I look out
My eyes are blessed
With a mountain view
But this evening the
Skies are midnight dark
Two hours before sunset
Winds from the north
Have sent the treetops
Swaying back and forth
In a frenetic bugaloo
Of bend don’t break
As the great mother
Throws her hissy fit
Unknowable anger driving
Her emotions down streets
Alleyways and canyons
No cars no people
Below my rattling windows
Just invisible wind bursts
Blowing trash and fallen
Leaves south with attitude
Driven by brute strength
And my thoughts drift
Toward bed and pillows
Hoping that tomorrow morning
Will be sunny and warm...
I’m going to make you feel my pain,
I’m sewing hate,spool of misplaced thread,
Stitch my view, mistakes fed,
Wish I knew how to heal my head.
In my lane, going insane, never thought my thoughts would cane my brain.
Whiplashed, my mind splashed back
Only to attack my own body sake
Lonely In fact, my mind commits then redacts, admits then retracts , misfit in weighted slacks. Hissy fit in a trapped contradicted map.
Laid out to waste, can’t even come to trace, these steps that revolve around a torn state,
I was born in late, docs made a mistake,
Now I want to drop a bomb and level this whole place.
But not literally just in case the idiocy is too timid to see the truth in my taste.
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