Joked Poems

Speculation

Close together, we chat.
Relatives, cousins - our mothers: the twins.

In the wind, ghosts;
we speculate.

We wonder while we
chitchat and munch.

Distant memories
of practical jokes, tokes;
days before she ran away;
& not questioning her
upon her return.

Sitting on my lavender bedspread;
laughing, listening; forlorn-ing.

Her i.d. tags, army surplus look,
blonde hair; my long locks, dark brunette.

In the Summer week,
we speculate on ghosts;
something we know nothing about.

We stood, took turns
standing over his coffin -
her brother joked
to relieve the tense.

All together, our gang;
our mother’s brother was twenty-five…

My cousin was fifty-two;
in the wind, ghosts,
I’ve surpassed

speculation, leans differently today,
knowing one day,
this world will fade,
as another comes into view.

Close together, we’ll chat,
as relatives speculate.

MY BROTHER AND I

My brother and I,
while choosing a name for my nephew,
tried hard to think of something unique—
something with variety and charm.
“Tractor” was the first choice,
then came “Tumbler,”
and we fell breathless with laughter,
comparing impossible things—
his eyes to stretching bubblegum.
We joked about how his name
might sound when he grew older.
Laughs and tears rolled down our cheeks.

That one minute call - An Electronics Engineers Love poem!

I was soldering dreams on a PCB,
Fighting a chip that refused to agree.
Multimeter in one hand, wire in the other—
Voltage spikes like no one’s bother.

Then came the call—a soft little beep,
Right when my circuit fell asleep.
I picked it up with a sigh so tall…
Didn’t expect you on that one-minute call.

"Hey, resistor brain, still alive?"
You joked as my heart hit overdrive.
My logic gates all flipped to high,
Capacitors charged, and so did I.

You said you missed me (with static delay),
I said, “Same here,” in my ohm-ish way.
We laughed about wires and life on hold—
Your voice was warm, my soldering cold.

No datasheet ever warned of this,
That love could spark with just a kiss—
Of words so quick, yet somehow deep,
That made my digital heart lose sleep.

Oh darling, in circuits, I deal with noise,
But your voice cuts through, brings quiet and poise.
That one minute call? Just sixty small seconds…
Yet my entire heart it somehow re-sequenced.

So call me again, like a rising sine wave,
In this tangled breadboard life I brave.
Because in a world of signals and sprawl,
You're the only frequency I want to call.

Tears of a Clown

Inspired by the Iron Maiden Song, Tears of a Clown

Drinking, he recalled the Circus Grim,
and the strange world that ruined him.  
He had done anything for a laugh.
Once, the magician sawed him in half.
He'd traveled the whole country round. 
Now tears fall from the circus clown.

An orphan child, running from disaster,
fell into the service of a cruel ringmaster.
At first, he was never seen on stage,
laboring to clean a hungry lion's cage. 
In dreams, he wore a jewelled crown,
and he rose to fame and renown.

The juggler, fire-eater and contortionist,
joked with him and the beauty he loved best.
It was then, a drunken challenge, he made, 
and, to his surprise she accepted, unafraid.
She caught his eye as she came down,
a moment frozen for a circus clown. 

His secret love, he thought, flew like a dove,
enchanting him, like an angel above. 
No matter how he tries, he won't forget, 
the trapeze girl who missed the net. 
He'll swill whisky until he drowns
in tears, the broken-hearted circus clown.

King of Clowns

You laughed too hard in 1996/
Thought I'd trip and stay down for kicks/
But I climbed back up, twice the size/
Now I shred, watch the sparks fly/
My drummer joked, said guitars are lame/
Left him roadside, questioning fame/ 
Why does a guitar need a case, he asked/
To contain its stringed up past/
Steel strings bend, the pick obeys/
My solos melt minds in dazzling rays/
You call it noise; I call it fate/
Crowds roar, my riffs attack/
Like a clown with a vengeance strapped to his back/
Why did the guitar cross the road/
To escape tuning abuse overload/
Strumming stainless, lyrics sharp/
Every chord bite, every note barks/
What's a guitarist least favorite job/
A fretting accountant, stuck in a fog/
Clowns don't cry, we shred and slay/
This guitar doesn't play, it dictates the day/
Why did the guitar get detention in class/
It couldn't stop playing tricks so crass/
Now I roll into your town, no disguise/
My solos make statues blink their eyes/
One last joke before I'm done/
Why don't guitars ever tell lies/
Because their strings keep them strung/

A Reflection on That Time I Let My Husband Cut My Hair

He said he’d watched a tutorial.
He said symmetry was a myth
fueled by Big Geometry.

I laughed. That was my first mistake.

My second was passing him the scissors
without asking him about his dominant hand.
(It was vibes. His hand was vibes.)

Snip.

He called it edgy. I called it
accidentally spiritual—
because seeing your own scalp
before coffee
is a kind of awakening.

He apologized by making pancakes
in the shape of angels.
I joked, You know these look like ghosts.
He replied so sincerely, I don’t see it. 

And that was the moment I knew: 
this is who I chose. The kind of man 
who conflates confidence with capability, 
specters with satiety, and bad haircuts 
with love. 

I could have done worse.

That bald spot grew over,
like a lot of mistakes—
as if nothing had happened.
But when I hear the snip-snapping
of blades testing the air, I still flinch. 
Just a little.

Which is to say, I’m older now,
but still not immune to vanity, 
or apology, or pancakes, 
especially when they’re fueled
by good intentions.

DANCING IN THE BREEZE

DANCING IN THE BREEZE 

He knew this was a special day.
Her beauty took his breath away.
His throat went dry as he said hello.
Fearing she would turn and go.

She smiled at him, so he took his chance.
And through bated breath asked her to dance
She clutched his hand; they danced all night.
They laughed and joked; things just felt right.

Decades pass, now both retired
They still share wedded bliss.
Emphasised each morning.
With a gentle loving kiss

Awakened by the dawn chorus.
As distant church bells peel
She looks across and smiles at him.
But his body is cold and still.

Her heart now badly broken
She knew this day would come.
She cannot face the future.
Without her only love

She passed shortly after
They’re now eternally together.
The cherished love they shared.
Shall always last forever

When I scattered both their ashes
Beneath the apple trees
I’m sure I saw them smiling.
Dancing merrily in the breeze.

When Something Special Happens again, and again

Now for the long flight home feeling lost in present roam
Reliving our past days, weeks, my minds in wanting comb

Her smile, her charm, her look of warm, inviting adorn
We walked, we talked, but we never baulked our future born

Now eight thousand miles from each other, but, just yesterday
We joked, we laughed, we kissed, we cried, our us, in display

No sooner back, our paths grew strong, another flight booked
Her parents I meet, our paster we seek, yea, we're hooked

Forested walks, and more we talked, her family we're graced
Near future plans, to be adorned, two families soon embraced

Rizal statue, countryside, amidst its lush, two hearts beside
Balai Gloria's wish, two blessings futures bliss, we're now allied

Once again, against our grain, Manila bound, our hearts ground
Knowing that soon we'll be as one, soon to share sacred sounds

I'm standing on the external, Ninoy - Manila, waving blind goodbye
She never turned, turnaround, me too, we're too emotional in cry

X

Celtic Fey

Gremlin, imp, leprechaun and puck
Tried to push their Celtic luck
Dwarf, gnome and faerie came along
They all joined in on a joyful March song

St. Patty’s day is only a week away
They laughed and joked and skipped away
If you see the tree leaves moving in the breeze
Tell them hello for me, if you please

Nicholaus Copernicus is so Weird

Nicolaus Copernicus claimed the earth orbits the sun
Other fourth graders joked about it and made lots of fun.
His parents were embarrassed by their weird decisive child.
His theories changed understanding of the universe. Isn’t that wild?

BANKING ON ROMANCE

Love affair
Heart to heart transactions in the air
It was a large Banking Corporation Office Tower in New York City
Eyes met
Tony and Regina’s dating set
No With drawl
Tony and Regina worked as Temps for the same agency
Worked in different departments within Investment Management Group of Stocks and Bonds
There was definitely a love thing
However, it was noticeable and plenty of observation
A regular employee of the bank stated, “Tony and Regina have romance going on
It didn’t matter, love was love
I can assure you, Tony and Regina felt it was everything to think of
They even went to Bloomingdale’s 59 and they joked around
In fact, there was this long dinner table fit for a mansion, and Tony played like he was rich and having an elegant affair, and it was a sensation
Not only was Regina impressed, there was an audience that wasn’t expected
Applaud love and Regina behind it
Nonetheless, love story genuine
Suddenly love took a down turn
Not on Regina’s part as my temp assignment had come to an end that day
Regina was out sick 
We were so busy dating, and never exchanged phone numbers
Heart struck
Love search

the game is afoot

Did I push hard enough for purple? Asked Morse.
It is the color I wanted on my house of course
a fantasy of mine shown in kitchen fan and horse
One color is great, agreed his yes man, Borse.

What kind of game is this, if you please?
This question came from the sandwich of cheese.
I think purple is wonderful, the butler said.
Looking fine in glossy and flat, it makes a fine bed.

Keep sucking up, the lettuce promptly said.
I will lug you around and bump your head.
You all sound mean to me, the monkey croaked.
the key to getting along is playing, frog joked.

H I J K L Poem

Handsome Hardy Hal haphazardly hung horrid hearts on healthy hedge
Impossible? Impractical? Improbable? Too near the ledge?
Justifiably joyful, joked Jerry’s jolly jubilant jonquils, gyrating
Kansas kittens carried kaleidoscopic kits that clung to the ledge
Legitimizing lovely lively lilies laying in lovable lulls near the hedge

Spinning Knee Man, from THE WOMAN WHO COULD EAT WOOD

Spinning Knee Man


His knees grew bigger and
steel strong until he was big.
Whenever he wanted to he could extend his knees (and it didn’t even hurt!) ten times as big.

That wasn’t a grotesque display
as it probably should be.
No one could see his flat, rounded triangular bone,
only see his pale hairy skin that covered his knee.

Shockingly no muscles damaged.
Shockingly no tendons and ligaments damaged. 

He could spin his
knees and skin like a small chopper in high gear.
His role was to air deliver packages to homes. And deliver orphans to their new homes afar and near.

Doing both was highly rewarding. The community marvelled at his ability that was totally rare. 
He joked that the best thing about it was 
that he got to fly for free everywhere.

Her Fur and Her

Her fur used to fly.
She used to fly.
From the floor to the couch.
Once she settled- 
We’d brush.
For years, it was full and youthful.
Then it was falling out in tufts,
So we’d brush more gently.
She was a little scraggly…
Both her and her fur were becoming thin.
We joked that there was nothing but bones under that fur.
We joked.
When we found her…
We pet her as if there was a heartbeat underneath.
We wanted to brush her one more time.
But there was no need.
The brush went to the back of the closet.

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