Improperly furnished with words alike the proper onstage guffawed and remarked, slighted and sent ribbons for acts that blanket at dusk with the manuscript rack, heaving against the pages like a concubine the throes of these pages batches of wine, like those that are deleterious these are cursed the same but they struck from their pages, the unequal dim range.
Supporting bridges over ravines
or gap-toothed kings and queens
abutments may be improperly named
BUT they’re effective all the same
“Mice” is nice but might be called “mouses”
if a couple is next to a screen
and there is no screaming from me
except in excitement at my selection.
That Razer Viper V2 Pro
so light and quick under my palm.
Point, click and scroll with complete control.
Sexy as that is, mine’s plain old gray,
like an old man in a squeaky wheelchair.
And my guy started the whole shebang
when he started the mouse wheel turning
in my mind. He said he was taking mice
to India. I chortled at the thought of two
as well as the word choice. How cool
that I can pound on a tablet screen
to ask “the boss” the proper way.
Improperly, the internet replies
that both are right. How can both be right?
I just know my guy is wrong because
the opposite means his wife is…
I can’t even say it. Mice or mouses,
marriage lice or louses. Scroll wheel
turning, turning, turning and “Proud Mary
burnin’” daylight, agreeing to disagree.
*lyrics by John Cameron Fogerty
Yes, fault - but blame
improperly named
If fault be mine
to admit 'tis divine
Here goes my Musk and Cat Horn Haiku.
we did realize
cat always early would rise
was such a surprise
cat was quite a catch
should see him as he does scratch
drank water down the hatch
cat was always weird
partner improperly neared
so he disappeared
with cat will comply
many happy days pass by
on him we rely
Now for my Horn Musk Haiku
would see his each tusk
on ox who was full of musk
threw out like corn husk
Musk will toss and toil
on his hair used much oil
went bad and would spoil
much musk will remain
had been covered by the rain
in war on Ukraine
We were pleased to claim this land
for Jesus.
We raised cities that were bear free.
Our faith in 'better and bigger' soared;
meth fueled crime leapt still greater.
Cracks appeared where a garish paint
had weathered the sky.
Plaster flamingos crumbled,
angelic limbs hung down
caught in ceiling fissures.
Plastic arrows littered pink concrete.
It was a Mall dream; it was our dream.
We began to covet the uncollectable.
In far off lands worker ants labored
to deliver all things desirable.
Homespun was undone,
yet plaid clad truck wranglers
still wrote their country songs.
Impedimenta impeded the improperly taught.
Log cabins transported themselves
to theme parks,
too little hope clogged casinos floors,
rage stalked the freeways uncaged.
God spoke to us,
urged us to fill storage units
with long raked-over junk,
holy relics in duct taped boxes,
all piled most neatly
in that persnickety old-timey way
of the Midwest.
A sinewy faith built rough cabins.
We were pleased to claim this land
for Jesus.
We raised cities that were bear free.
Everything soared;
later crime and meth rose even
higher.
Cracks appeared where a garish paint
had weathered the sky.
Plaster flamingos crumbled,
angelic limbs hung down
caught in ceiling fissures.
Pink plastic arrows littered concrete.
It was a Mall dream; it was our dream.
We began to order stuff
from worker ants in other countries.
Plaid went in and out of fashion,
Horseless cowboys kept up the long tradition
of truck wrangling.
Impedimenta impeded the improperly taught.
Log cabins transported themselves
to theme parks,
too little hope clogged casinos floors,
rage stalked the freeways.
God spoke to us,
urged us to fill storage units
with our long raked-over crap,
sad holy relics in duct taped boxes -
yet neatly piled
in a persnickety Midwest way.
Why Men don't stay Silent
to hear the inner voices ...?
Why they insist on speaking
what they improperly say
without cognize what they say..!?
Fractured
What are we to make of five over three improperly?
Ah, convert to one plus two over three, properly.
Yes, but what now of one plus two over three?
‘Tis a most proper one over three of five you see.
Copyright Paul Thomson 2019
Styx
by Michael R. Burch
Black waters, deep and dark and still:
all men have passed this way, or will.
NOTE: According to ancient Greek mythology, the Styx was the River of Death. The dead would pay Charon, the ferryman of Hades, a fare to carry them across the Styx to their eternal destination. (Hades was not "hell" as it was improperly translated in the King James Bible. Hades had heavenly regions, such as the Elysian Fields and the Blessed Isles.) The fee was normally an obolus or danake. The Greeks would place the coins in the mouths of the dead, but over time the custom would become placing coins, usually pennies, on the eyes of the dead.
Hanging in the inside of a drain
as change tries to wash me down
trying to de-ass my head
if you are on the verge
of a breakdown
wouldn't you step over the line
Chases best when the goose
is at its wildest
Improperly proper
Is that life or did a fart just itself
The night pulls itself
across the sky
as my sighs try to capture the twinkling dead light
and the chill wears my skin
and no effort can begin
for i no longer can lift my chin
Just the whim of a whim
Melting down,crossing barriers, breaking out,stepping around.
Pieces fragmenting,character
isolating.
Green-acid,hair follicles,
white is the blank slate,painting blues with reds.
Freaks from a sideshow,
muscles in the sea;
six-packs in a grog-shop,
dancing improperly.
Beguiled by your bounce,sleep-walking this town.
Fine is the white wine,
poisoning the liver,spining on a sixpence.
Reach Heaven Faster
Why will children up always grow?
Only God Himself does know;
Not meant to be a disaster;
Only to reach heaven faster.
First around I may often fumble;
End up having to take a tumble;
Poorly made;
Improperly laid;
The wall can eventually crumble.
Jim Horn
Oops. Over 10 again. Was on a vacation
for ten days and am back at writing my
usual outstanding poems.
With Muller much does remain there;
For Trump will produce more despair;
Was much about,
And all drawn out;
Better start handling things with care.
Bungling Bankers and Brutal Bakers
There are those who were muck rakers,
As well as liars, losers and breath takers;
Improperly invested,
And poorly digested;
Been bungling bankers and brutal bakers.
Jim Horn
Imagine if you will, someone chewed you improperly long. How on earth would you feel? And then did not even swallow. But spat you out. Imagine that if you will.
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