I hit the spot.
I marked it with a dot.
It's my spot—
An 'X' ringed.
A bullseye claimed,
filled with jet black ink—
Not a blot with rough edges that seep out,
but one with a sharp outer perimeter.
It's a point pretending it has a yard of space around it,
on its own plot of land, casting no shadows.
I shift a bit; neighbors start crowding in.
"Stop Right There!"
"It's my spot you're on!"
I feel the canvas moving under my spot,
or is it all the jostling moving me — page, plot and all?
Now I'm bouncing in a crowded jumping castle.
Dots blurring into one another.
Stippled footprints mark where spots once stood;
touching down elsewhere — here, there, otherwise.
I've lost the plot; I've lost my spot.
Just another orphaned dot,
set adrift, looking for a margin to belong in.
on a slate, forever being wiped clean.
I clamp down and dig in my heels.
Crampons bite into the ice floe.
Punctuation halts the slide,
puts its foot down—
my comma sheds its tail, and holds.
Stay free Dezi..' Stay alert old son..If you ever vist England, drop in it'd be fun, bring
Some vegamite, a cherry-ripe, some four
Xxxx beers as well.' I'll take you to some old tyme pubs, I reckon you'll go down swell? We can talk at lenght of sanity, and
Gippsland in the spring, the mallee and its
Wheatfilds, the western districts potato
Kings.' We'll have a go on picking out a horse to win the cup.' And maybe we'll go
Back home Dez.? Once i've quenched my
Thirst eniugh..I'm not too sad, to hit the spot with
A rifle, in my arms..Some wallaby stew i reckon will do.' As the bush birds sing out
Their charms.' A line of rope twixt
ghost gums, a canvas sheet upon it, a river
down the way.' I can keep your side safe a good mile wide.
' Now Dez what do you say.?
Let's float together
Laugh alot
Combos, nachos
Hit the spot
Other things
That feel so good
You know, I know
Understood
All my dreams of you are sweet
When missing you I press repeat
And once again we're in the park
Or sharing kisses in the dark
Silhouettes cast in moonlight
Love and passion, out of sight
Or on the beach taking a swim
Down in the Caribbean
Or holding hands out for a walk
While toasting Paris as we talk
Or playing music up on stage
Adoring fans fully engaged
I dream about you night and day
Asleep, awake, in every way
Most are vivid, some are not
Either way they hit the spot
The place I have inside my heart
That longs for you when we're apart
A poetic community has many ingredients
Tablespoons of metaphors with Alliteration spice
A dash of Haiku makes things nice
Pour in some sonnets into a bowl
Mix in romance to make it whole
Add a sprig of thyme to the rhyme
Sprinkle in some free verse to make it sublime
Stir in some Limericks into the pot
A cup of Triolets will hit the spot
Savor the flavor as you sample the soup
As Personifications waft through the air
Prepare a Pantoum and add to the group
Add a cup of imagery to give it some flair
6-9-2024
What a beautiful cup of coffee
I needed it so damn bad
Boy it hit the spot
but didn’t stop the crave I had
Now I want another one
even more than the first
I’m a petty man alas,
with ambivalence I burst
If I give in to my desire
the price could be greater
I’m a petty man indeed
and may well pay for it later
Bottoms up!
Not as good as the first
to hell with these bad calls
now I’m all on edge
and climbing up the walls
But I’ve learnt a valuable lesson
from this hole I dug
In future skip the cup
go for one big bastard mug!
By
David Kavanagh
Syrup the cat was a sous- chef, her soup hit the spot.
her concoctions of rabbit and mice made a fine pot
you cannot make me taste that. You cannot! Cannot!
yelled an out-of-control kitten who was a bit of a snot.
Syrup kept stirring her concoction of kibble and bit.
she did not mind at all that the child was having a fit.
harried mother of the tabby kitten put down her sweater of knit.
giving a responsibility lecture to her child, a chit wit.
child’s loud wailing and mewing did not make her mommy proud.
her antics were ridiculous, annoying, and totally loud.
grandma said watch this, and she threw soup into child’s mouth.
yummy in my tummy! The kitty yelped as the soup traveled south.
I'm a fool for you darling...
I’m a fool for you darling, if weakness, my choice,
Though as suitor, redundant, except for my voice!
I vow showers of kindness (won’t rain on parade),
And have umbrella handy for days of scant shade!
Lemonade? (Fresh in fridge if you think a day’s hot!)
You’ll find gift of a jacket should warmth hit the spot,
I’ll hold hand when you tremble in fear of a day,
Count on ears that would listen to all that you say!
Lord, should we reincarnate (conditions seem mint)
With good karma, perhaps, to see future that’s spent
(Our old love but new growth) in blessed wonderful life
Though time’s blush on a rose (it please God, man and wife)!
Brian Johnston
November 18th in 2022
Poet’s Note:
A rediscovered, reworked, unpublished poem fragment from yesteryears.
Today’s my daughter’s birthday.
She has so-called “special needs.”
Each year, she gives a list of gifts
She wants; my husband heeds.
I also add some extra things
I think might hit the spot.
A word search book of rock & roll
She seemed to like a lot.
A t-shirt with her birthday year,
Some leggings with designs,
But there is one thing after which
She always always pines.
A teddy bear! She owns so many
She needs not one more,
Yet that’s the gift above all others
She is waiting for.
And luckily for her, her brother
Found a “birthday bear.”
With party hat and cupcake,
It’s a bear beyond compare.
Her group home made a party
Which she loved, Hawaiian style,
But her birthday bear was what produced
The biggest birthday smile!
Visual artist Joseph Cornell
hit the spot,truth to tell
In a collage of poetic reverie
of glass boxes* you see
*https://www.royalacademy.org.uk
My Dental Horn Haiku
Swing and Sway with Tooth Decay (Sammy Kaye)
we would swing and sway
had heard about tooth decay
was to our dismay
do need dental care
at mouth she started to stare
teeth beyond compare
did have his consent
would know what my dentist meant
cavities prevent
we found a fable
dentist lives in a stable
goes to work when able
his office is plush
on dentist do have a crush
must be sure to brush
he will let me in
dentist is my next of kin
took my teeth for a spin
am a horny toad
my dentist does have a code
brush teeth or hit the road
my case was mental
when in office that is dental
hope they are gentle
had heard a Horn pun
when my dentist had been done
was second to none
when life would waiver
dentist was my life saver
on best behavior
mind in mental traps
did have a mental mishapse
our bride would collapse
you need a mascot
which you know will hit the spot
in store can be bought
this is all for now
my head I will have to bow
God me did endow
I perk my Joe old-fashioned style
In a pot atop the stove,
My percolator ancient,
Like a pirate’s treasure trove.
I measure out the coffee
And a timer lets me know
When 8 minutes have elapsed and then
My brew’s all set to go.
It’s French roast, strong and most important,
It is really hot,
The only way that it should be
So it will hit the spot.
I toyed with going modern –
The Nespresso had appeal,
But to change what’s tried and true seemed
Like too much of a big deal.
So I’ll stick with perking coffee
Like the dinosaur I am
For each morning sip allows me
To be happy as a clam.
Blood Clot and Boycott
Rather than crossing lines and boycott,
We did have a drink called blood clot,
And then hardened;
From jail pardoned;
After we would finish it, hit the spot.
Jim Horn
Sweet Things
Aunt Candy was the candy lady and her name fit just fine.
She made mountains of chocolates, every kind.
Whip whistles that popped, crunchy things that dropped,
In your mouth, from a spoon, you sang a tune.
White chocolate, like snow.
Out-lining the holidays with winter fun.
Dark chocolate, mysterious and romantic,
only for the older crowd,
the daring “do’s”, the lovers of life.
Milk so sweet, and fun to eat.
Shaped… and draped… on a cake…
Foolish children eat and eat, they can not see their feet.
Smiles on their faces that make you laugh.
My memories must be strong, as now she is…gone.
It is up to me to carry on.
A bag of chocolate and a melting pot,
that is a good beginning…
to hit the spot.
I did a little reading,
scanned the poetry of others bleeding;
okay, I did a lot
many hit the spot,
You know the one with hope
where everything you wrote
is not near as good as those you read
not even the random thought in your head;
a smile, a laugh, a gathering of tears
took me back in time to better years
that spoke the words poetic
written on the page to bloom rejected
then finally some inspiration
not a moment too soon.
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