My friend has few friends except me.
I call her twice a week, because of this.
And she is always available.
Her phone line is open.
She stands in the street and yells at speeders.
I have asked her not to, but she gets a kick out of it.
She is perpetually angry; focusing on negatives.
I bought her a book about positivity.
She threw it away – it was “hooey”.
I do not take it personally.
But I try to revamp the conversation.
“How is Bunny?” I ask.
Bunny is her baby granddaughter.
“She’s fine. But let me tell you what Gladys did this week!”
Gladys is her neighbor, and she is fixated on fixing Gladys.
Gladys said this, Gladys gave her a weird look,
Gladys stalks her, staring at her from behind the blinds across the street.
I try to introduce a new topic,
but she cannot stop talking about Gladys.
Gladys, Gladys, Gladys, Gladys, Gladys.
Gladys makes me mad.
I should block her from my phone.
I should tell her how I feel.
I should…..
Stop talking about Gladys, and focus on something happier, I think.
But do I say it?
No.
She has lost too many honest friends already.
I am all she has.
words 207 © 12:33 AM, Caren Krutsinger negativity
I can’t just ignore how tight it hugs me
How it caresses through my soul
How it exposes pretence of innocence overhaul
A touch of it sending goose bumps all over me
I can’t hide anymore, from beautified macabre
Coz its radiance reveals my dark silhouette
The mask unmasked, pulled off and shoved off
Am its pushover, adjunct to its whims and in it swept off
I can’t resist how I slide along its gooey surface
Ever since its appearance, smoothening rough edges,
My entire itinerary requisite sufficed
Back and forth am pushed, taking past hooey serious
To extremities that I could dare not imagine were precious
I sloth at time wasted on fingle-fangle,
With tremor and cowardice, had waved off
And wafted away pots upon pots of inviting cosset
But with it, my tour de force is world class and it I covet
The urge to stretch forth, pluck and sink my teeth
In both poisonous and supple, sweetened sour, to pleasure writhe
Lowering my bucket so deep in their pristine cisterns,
To just drink and drink from their forbidden cool rith
And quench my thirst, decade old thirst
As they call my name amid a bene placito!
love is not a plague - punctured plumes:
hoisted hooey, disaster's hood
quack qualities dripping nectar
worn whooshes, malady's fosters
love ain't bounty bliss - Utopia:
numb nature's cloak sewn by favor
timid oak oozes pruned pleasures
sassy stream girded in leisure
lanky love is far from merit:
gaunt grace's groomed by bruised verdicts
felon features seeped'n hacked acme
porous passion puking smith'reens
love's a gullible game: the Chess!
We're the pawn, while nature's the rest.
'20:06:05:17:20
Note: of lanky love.
Have you ever been hypnotized?
I was always the one they led up to the stage from the audience.
I could be so easily hypnotized it was nuts.
Infatuated by it, I took some classes
Teaching me how to hypnotize others.
Dr. Hickman was teaching them.
She gave me a book.
Hypnotherapy by Dr. Irene Hickman.
I was not ready for this.
I thought it was a bunch of hooey.
I did not appreciate the book or her autograph.
Ten years later fate threw me into a hypnotherapy course.
I am now a licensed hypnotherapist. Wishing I had not
been so hasty.
I had thrown away the book.
Feel badly now, as Dr. Irene Hickman
Was one of three people instrumental in
Introducing hypnotherapy to the United States.
I was shocked when I took the course,
And learned that the woman who desperately
Wanted to intern me years earlier was one of
The pioneers.
She was a calm, quiet, older, eighty-year old who spoke softly….
Let's talk
On a short walk
I'm might be a super freak
But I have things to speak
I want to have a word with you
And I know that won't be enough
But you need to know my coddle thoughts
The most wildest dreams, the craziest imaginations and all those adventurous hooey
We haven't talked in a while
In the real way we used to do erstwhile
Curbing the inner me for long is defiant
But if it's for the sake of having conversation
And making of the foremost eves
It's totally worth holding off
On the other side
I can't await
Because I'm stuck
In the web of my own persuasions
It's really puzzling
I want it, I don't want it
It's all messed up
But if the divinity wants
If the world wants
It'll happen for sure
The circumstances will change
And
We'll have a talk
On our wonderful walk!!!
By Elton Camp
Call him yeti, bigfoot or snowman
Then seek to find him if you can
For a hulking, brutish guy
He’s extremely hard to spy
Peoples’ imaginations are pliable
Eyewitness reports are unreliable
There are photos for us to see
They’re ever out of focus to me
Ones with a clear take
Are obviously only fake
I can’t get it into my head
Why one isn’t found dead
Why no babies seen, I can’t deduce
Surely the things have to reproduce
Yet, plenty will have a fit
If I scoff even a little bit
“About the truth you don’t care.
Undoubtedly, something’s there.”
Sorry, but I have to say, “Phooey!”
Bigfoot’s just a bunch of hooey
The temptation is so easy
The cost cheaper than money
The moment is very funny
The idea so sunny
Yummy for tummy
Lets do the hokey pokey
Cheating becoming cozy
Okey dokey
But there are fumes, and smells phony
Hooey
One might think I've gone crazy,
Sure because I act loony.
This is far from being lazy
T'is neither piquant nor funny.
Why reminisce on the life of a friend?
When he is out to strife for his ends,
I doubt that he ever remember,
That we once shared a cucumber.
Why stair at his pictures with tears?
When he has been gone for years,
I smell of him while daydreaming,
Though I'm not close to his thousand dreams.
To my friends I call out his name,
And some mistake it for his fame.
I hear his footsteps growing this way,
When actually he's going away.
Oh! Why this long and sleepless nights?
When he is happy with no plight.
Why with pleasure I wait his return?
When someone has taken my turn.
This is phooey!
But certainly not a hooey.
When will I leave this aimless lorry,
For mine is a sloppy love story.
"Just a state of mind",
Too often said of aging.
Get old... then say it.
The map of my hands
Reveal many roads
Some now traveled
Some untold
I look at my hands
And wonder what's next
Will the coming road be simple
Or maybe complex
They say your hands tell a story
Of the life you are to live
So many weaving roads
So much information to give
But for all the knowledge my hands possess
There is one thing I must confess
I don't read palms so at my life I guess
What oh what is to happen next
Do my hands reveal secrets of what is to come
That could be hooey
But here's a good rule of thumb
Live life everyday and take it as it comes
Play the hand you are dealt
And don't dwell too long
On the roads not traveled
And the songs unsung
And please just please
Speak with truthful tongue
My hands may tell stories
Of what life is to be
But I will just have to wait
Just wait and see
"Poppycock and hooey indeed,"
Said the man of the new machine ran by steam
"It shall never catch on,
Even after I'm gone."
Sobering words by the first train casualty.
Some songs are sad songs: dum de dum dum dum.
Others are cheerful: tra la la la ling
And people are the same. Some may become
A sadden lot, see gloom in everything.
And then there are the opposite, see joy
In what life brings. They dance to different drums.
The sad do dum de de dum de de hooey
The merry do Tra la la la tra umm
The moral of this poem is: The Earth
Is our home and we love it, no matter
Who we might be. Our self-defining worth
Depends if we get along together.
So lets tra la dum de umm tra de
And try to live our lives in harmony.
I once had a friend named Louie
who never gave a hooey
about when he ate
as long as his mate
fixed his favorite chop suey.
Louie was married to Betty
who much preferred spaghetti
but when Louie said, "Please,
fix my favorite Chinese"
Betty said, "I won't be so petty
since pasta is in the suey
and I really love you, Louie."
So she took all day
chop, chopping away
till onions made her eyes dewy.
Help!! I don't have an end
to this saga of my friend ...
no way to finish
this tasty suey dish
perhaps you have one to lend?