Old is...old is... old is... me
Used to be young... do you believe
Played kiddie games
Times have changed
Do you believe it... it's me!!!
Many do not love my direct way
They shy from the truth
many just loved my looks
in my happy youth
some liked the achievements i had and wanted in on my fame
And some thought what I did for a living was kiddie stuff and kind of lame
So it's a conundrum you see, when you talk about me
It's up down sideways philosophy
I am never stagnant and forever growing
and the depth of who and what I am is possibility overflowing
I have walked through fire
and I am full of desire
And I create at the drop of a hat
and in minutes spit out a new artistic rap
My muse is now inside me
and fuels me from within
And my life is invigorated
I know I don't live by whim
Its purpose plan and accomplishment
which will drive my final goals
A story to tell the world
that as of yet was untold
And that my dear is a poem 12-4-23 Artimus (C) Susan Manley
A game piling the Autumn leaves made me smile.
Challenging the Grandkids to make the biggest pile.
A huge stack of red and gold each one achieves.
Made me smile, a game piling the Autumn leaves.
Each kiddie so proud of the work they had done.
A crisp chill in the air not being warmed by the sun.
Tossing the leaves, each child laughed out loud.
Of the work they had done, each kiddie so proud.
Raining leaves of the season being tossed up so high.
Autumn’s their favorite. I’ll tell you all why.
The fun throwing bright leaves is the reason.
Being tossed up so high, raining leaves of the season.
a kid with a vivid imagination
playing a xylophone thinking about nothing
making plans to explore more but wondering why
the big picture is not understood
the glass with the spicket water in it is an interesting guessing game
i just want to go over the dunes and to the beach
the ocean is ringing many bells
the harmonies soothe my soul, and i feel blessed beyond belief
i take off my big bird flip flops and let loose my kiddie energy
unbeknownst to me, my blind paternal grandmother will succumb soon
complications from diabetes......boy does that monster make you learn quickly
for now, i take her by the hand and let the rhythm of the sounds be her visual guide
the tears will flow and be welcomed warmly by the salty water elders
My goat’s back in the yard
with all the other goats.
The Billy’s got an eye on her;
I think he’s takin’ notes.
She’s strutting out her stuff;
She’s looking pretty good.
It’s well that I just fixed the fence;
He’d jump it if he could.
Miss Juno’s in the shade,
ecaping from the sun.
She’s lounging with a watchful eye,
ready to get ‘er done.
The rabbits in the cages,
the chickens in the coop,
just chillin’ on a summer day;
the heat will make you droop.
The cats are on the porch.
My daughter’s on the swing.
The grands are the kiddie pool.
I wouldn’t change a thing.
I once had a goat who loved to swim
I enrolled him at our local gym
I know, I know, it was just a whim!
Do tell!
He did rather well in beginners’ match
Girl swimmers thought him quite a catch
But he failed to get his lifesaver’s patch.
Oh, hell!
He punched a hole in the kiddie pool
So, I enrolled him in the ballet school
He butted heads with Master Abdul.
Oh, swell!
This kid simply couldn’t measure up
Until, finally, he won the Cannabis Cup
And with the money he bought a pup.
Oh, well!
SIXTH PLACE WINNER
written April 6, 2022
for "Tail-Rhymed" poetry contest
sponsored by Jeff Kyser
Summer sky sparkles under huge bursts of light
Spiraling rockets and rainbows of color delight
Kiddie rides and merry-go-rounds spinning around
While roller coasters lift one high off the ground
Vendors sell hotdogs and pink cotton candy galore
Even if you win a prize, you come back for more
The midway is lively with strange, exotic shows
Sporty guys have their gals, and the gals their beaus
Warm breezes waft through the open-air cantina
A wandering stilt walker plays a squeaky concertina
The dads will gain bragging rights ringing the bell
A barker guesses mom’s weight, but she’ll never tell
Then, too soon the fun was over, tents folded up
All I brought home was a tiny, plastic loving cup!
written February 25, 2022
I sit on a wooden bench near the fountain
Watching the birds dip into the warm water,
Like children splashing in a kiddie pool
A euphoric feeling of pure contentment
Washes over me in waves of satisfaction,
With peace and happiness filling me up
To the brim of my being, I am in love with life,
I tell myself, and I can't deny the ecstasy.
written January 26, 2022
I was just a little gregarious girl
wearing a lime green bikini
with a tiny red apple
appliqued on the top
splashing
in the plastic kiddie pool
covered in cartoon fish
Drops of cool water
I flung up in the air
reflecting the summer sunshine
falling
over me as if I were being showered
in sparkling diamonds
I climbed out of the water
grabbing my compact mirror
in the sky blue case
shaped like a seashell
a mermaid with blond hair
like mine painted on it
I had bought at the thrift store
with a quarter I’d found in the parking lot
I carried it everywhere I went
I had sat it on top of my tattered towel
I don’t recall what I had planned
to do with it
It slipped from my grip
onto the old cracked pavement of the patio
shattering
sharp shards of glass
shimmering in the sun
Seven years bad luck my mother said
Seven years that stretched
into ten, twenty, thirty
close to forty now
Can anyone see me?
Can someone free me from this
curse?
Got kold hatred in their eyes,
so kadaver kold
The killer gaze kuickly komes alive,
whenever the wrong kolor
neighborly arrive
Kagily enter into the dark domain Kape Fear,
where brothas ain’t burning cross welcome here
Mister Kady,
the kosplay kaptain
of kritter kontrol,
tells your kiddie litter
he don’t like none of you
Come midnight soon,
he’s gonna
put down the Dalmatian brood
The spotted faces,
whose pupils has the wrong hue
They were last seen on Koroner Avenue
Feel the malicious mood
of Kape Fear
Where sista mothers have been known
to disappear
Mister Kady,
and his kruel krew,
love to wear their Kasper kostume
Go terrorize the wrong kolor kind
on night patrol
Frighten every eklipse-kolored soul
One thing is kondor certain
in Kape Fear
It’s so vulture true —
The alabastard apparitions
wanna ghost
a widow veil few
Nether exit the violent-coated vanilla vista,
kuaintly known as Kape Fear
Dirt taste the blatant hatred
blaring klaxon loud and klear
It’s kondone toxic
to the wrong kolored ear
08-30-21
A small dog whimpers in the cold.
All he needs is some warmth –
the warmth of your heart,
a morsel of food, and a cuddle.
A little cat lonely by your porch,
gazes at you with sweet kitty eyes,
meowing and meowing for a dish of food.
Maybe she is lost and wanting a snuggle
from a person whom she has gone missing from!
We all feel miserable at times.
Maybe we have fallen on hard times.
Maybe we have simply had terrible day.
Sometimes all we need
are sympathetic words, a nice hot meal,
and the gentle touch of a loved one’s hand.
puppies and kitties
and the kiddie inside us all -
Sometimes we simply hunger
For kindness.
A mouse is included among the order of rodents.
Nobody wants them as permanent residents.
Mr. Mouse is a creature we can live without.
He is considered a pest without a doubt.
Mrs. Mouse and all the little kiddie mice
are also never considered nice.
Each one is a nuisance we have to rout,
so get all the baited traps out.
The
garden
in Weed Park
was a special
spot at the park’s edge.
Beautiful white columns
flanked its entrance, and benches
of decorative wrought iron
were placed along the cement pathways
you could follow in its small labyrinth.
Although as a child, I preferred to play
on the swings or ride the kiddie train,
the beauty of Weed Park’s garden
still flits in my memory
on soft bright wings like those
of the butterflies
drawn there – like us -
to its sweet
flowers’
scent.
June 11, 2020
for the Garden Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Giddy
Kiddie
Purdy
Birdie
Funky
Monkey
Lucky
Duckie
Picky
Chicky
Loggy
Froggy
Wiggy
Piggy
Squirmy
Wormy
Tidy
Spidy
Lucy
Goosy
Lovey
Dovey
The physician mixed a kiddie 'cocktail'
The young patient swallowed it and turned pale
He quickly went under
But the doc had blundered
He'd put in a pint of hundred-proof ale
Related Poems