Long Earplugs Poems
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When I died, i arrived in Hell and there was a lesson that I quickly learned.
Satan is using a new kind of torture, people are no longer being burned.
It's a rotten, terrible and cruel thing for Satan to do.
Now he tortures people by forcing them to watch the new Doctor Who.
I did some really bad things while I was on Earth and now I'm in Hell because of what I did.
I'm being forced to watch the new Doctor Who and I can't look away or even close my eyelids.
I've always known that Adolf Hitler was evil but I was wrong when I thought that he's tough.
He screams like a little b**** as he watches the new Doctor Who TV show, it's pretty rough.
While I was on Earth, I was a liar, a thief and a despicable thug.
Now I'd do anything if I could receive a blindfold and earplugs.
As I'm being forced to watch the new Doctor Who, I scream and cry.
I didn't know that such a bad thing could happen when a person dies.
I'll tell people on Earth how to avoid my fate instead of just giving them a hint.
They'd better be on their very best behavior because Hell has a new torment.
I am watching the t.v. show Growing Pains and it brings tears to my eyes. I think
of the things my grandchildren watch. Less variety was more. We had worthwhile
lessons in a half-hour program. Today there is so much worldly noise.
VINTAGE VINDICATION
cataclysmic dust lands on the flat screen
our kids count each particle in wonderment
vintage past in crematorium ashes
new shows blast silliness no lectures
minds bounce up and down on bouncy balls
no matter! hand-held gadgets and earplugs inhabit
their stratosphere…their precipice, high places
gather all clueless moms and doofus dads
and a range of worldly friends, for a few laughs
light sprays out of the humongous screen
with blinding fury, ties a bandana over eyes
bags and gags common sense and loving hugs
now we had some laughs in the blast of the past
but we learned lessons too. vintage vindication –
that’s what i seek. harmony with loving hugs.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
I suppose it wouldn't be that bad to star in a cheesy tv show if the show was about cheese.
Careful what you order in the Korean noodle shop. It might arrive with mayonnaise on top.
Why are there no great InCel stand-up comics? And people say feminists aren't funny.
Ever heard of "Story Mapping"? Apparently it's a cult thing. A box of air for which people pay money.
"Come meet Baby Kim!" said the invite. Brought little knitted slippers. Turned out it was a kimberly monitor lizard.
Maybe covid virus can be spread by our ears. Do not go out without earplugs! Also, do not drop your pants in public.
I thought I saw Johnny Depp downtown, wearing a girly hat. But it was Jennifer Tilly.
The man in the elevator pushed button number eight.
The car lurched; then it wouldn’t budge. He griped, “Oh, I’ll be late!”
One babbling freak, two clueless girls who smacked gum and played rap,
two men with body odor, and two hoodlums shared the trap.
He wished he had air freshener, nerve pills, earplugs, handcuffs.
He had to quell the urge to knock all seven on their duffs.
At last, the captives were set free. He raced to the eighth floor.
He’d missed the interview, and he was bummed out to the core.
He thought the day could get no worse; then back at home he saw
a beast relaxing in his chair, AKA mother-in-law.
His wife said, “Mama’s moving in, Dear. Isn’t that good news?”
He forced a tiny smile but wisely didn’t share his views.
`
Slandered wavelengths
from an old worn out speaker
cracking with each unbalanced bass note
Finding my brain on overload
and a slower heart beat
out of tune
Static becomes the union,
tuning dial gone, volume at high
glowing in the corner of cobweb melodies
lingering on a distant shelf
now sinking lower in this
roadside armchair (Where are the earplugs when you need them)
An empty bottled fortress
protects the pain at my feet,
brown glass soldiers stand guard,
bottle cap mementos flip
like dancing beans on a folding table
at El Mercado
One more for the road
(like I need this)
along crooked dotted lines, weaving nonsense
two at a time, smirking
snickering like children hiding from a babysitter,
mimicking the way
Still the static, white noise,
drowns out the joy and the trees cry,
when birdsong of night haunts with a sound
interrupting the dance of the
beer bottle chorus line
and I tap a painful toe
It's the bane and worldwide poison
of humanity.
It blinds us with bandaids we
place over our eyes.
It's the ear plugs we stick in
our ears.
It's pointing the finger of blame
on anyone and anything we
fear.
To be free, get your bandaids
off your eyes!
You will get to see the glory of
clear skies.
Toss the earplugs away, you
might learn that truth has more
than one side.
You will be absolutely free to
hear the other side.
Point the finger of blame at your
own grieving chest.
Then, and only then, will you be
able to be fully responsible and
do your level best.
It's a life full of integrity,
To find the cause of all my
problems is....me.
June 20, 2019
3:30am PST
In Secret Caverns, we harken to the darkness.
Our headlamps’ shut off, we are anywhere,
we are everywhere, it doesn’t matter where.
No matches, no breeze, no breath to strike
up the light, no moon, no sun, no shuffling.
Absolutely still - our souls, our conscience,
what disturbs the ash of our ultimate destiny.
No one dares to whisper in this golden cage.
The ages pass by, primordials stir, Jesus is
still in his wrappings. My heart, subdued, like
earplugs in their caves. My eyes, wide open,
stand at attention, to retain the inner light.
I stand in the lake, my life jacket does not glow;
however I grow in sensation; I float upright.
We are the rests between notes. We dote on
the inky calm, not a mere closure of lids; liars,
those pair of skin divers, that blink away shine.
Sans shadows, peaking at the sublimity of time.
I have almost never heard such a racket as this
The snakes slunk off down the alley with barely a hiss
The rats ran away, the instant the cacophony began.
“God preserve my ears!” yelled an early milkman.
Yes it was the cat band, with horrible screeching and all.
We heard it often in the wee hours that no longer tranquil fall.
Who sold them instruments? I asked the guy next door.
He turned and pointed to the silent music store.
Of course this place did not open until ten.
These caterwauling fools would be asleep by then.
I ran into my house and put some bright red earplugs in.
Tried to sleep but could not do it thanks to their awful din.
“Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop…”
Matthew 13:8a NIV
ROTTEN
Scorched, withered, choked. Is friendship,
friendship at all, when a pitbull turns
and attacks their own with insouciance.
You thought you were on the same team.
You wore the t-shirt, made the same jokes.
Flames leapt from your scalp, tears fall
and flood around your ankles, as if you
dropped your pants. Embarrassment
with a spotlight on you. You’re thrown
under the bus. It rolled over your pretty face.
No one talked into your ear. Of course it
is clear that the spirit of fear is mocking you.
Seed on good soil will save you. Judas
scorched, withered and choked - his ears
as if cob-earplugs, permanently installed.
Every Judas will have his day in court.
Explain then how you took the lead,
how you threw the net, took the money
or fame and ran with it. You are hot -
your popularity is at a ten…but now
your dead, and yes you will go in the direction
of your peers but no one will find you.
The tears, the flame, the panic
condemns you to the awful same.
If you’d only explored your root,
the rot inside your heart, ugliness
of a pretty face and prayed, girl, prayed.
It’s not too late,
while you live.
Long for life -
eternal life.
9/29/2022
Writing in her, warn and atristic, cozy den.
Coffee, Muse, thesaurus and her always flowing pen.
Outside, rowdy protestors chanted for equality!
Burning down businesses ..after all, it was for free!
She wrote of sparkling galaxies and outstanding stars.
But not the policemen killed in front of bars?
As the sun did set, Cinderella wrote of aromatic roses.
But not once, never, of the innocents with broken noses.
Our Cinderella wore earplugs to quell sounds of first responders.
After all, who wants to know of liberty's loss, she pathetically ponders!
3/5/2021
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