Long Pain in the neck Poems
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Flamboyant swashes; flaming crimson,
could be my face, as the flyswatter-hand
could impress such lettering upon my cheek.
so I
severed the crescent-angel of my imagination,
dashed my dreamy cursive, expunged the end;
held my breath as I curtailed the honey-alphabet.
Nun in black,
giving me grief, exacting ruler teeth, measuring
the letter of the law; curtains to poetic strength.
Who was I to think
outside the parochial box. Couldn’t she,
who dangled rosary beads,
have at least
decisively
have added,
“My! My! Isn’t that pretty! You will make a great poet
one day, but today, dear one, you must play by the rules.”
Snap! Crack! My knuckles are raw.
They meet my mom’s gaze. We laugh.
In my time, the penguins
wouldn’t dare,
but dare
one did
to
bang the elementary school kid,
his head, against the classroom door
frame. famed…defamed…sorry for him.
He probably didn’t tell
his mom and dad.
We didn’t
back then.
This was only one educator…
the rest were fairly nice. Unfair
to dice my letter, mold it, conform it.
Perhaps that is why
I
interchange cursive and printing
as I take note
of the world at large
and
the small people that live on a ledge
eyeing letters and ledgers
with eagle-eyed veracity.
Verifiably insane,
the pinch
of my pen,
in the grip of Sister Pain-in-the-Neck.
Feverish,
with fanciful letters,
alpha-betcha-soup, heterodox-ical, complexities
with outlier formatting. I
will pull out from the alphabetical wolf pack,
hungry for a feast
of flippant snippets. Do my teachers
toss in their graves? I
think not. They just lie
in a box, just so.
Headache? Pop some pills!
Fever or for any of your ills -
Sore throat? Running nose?
Backache? Joint pain?
Bad bowl moment? Sleeplessness?
Low libido? Birth control? Weight loss?
Feeling blue? Under the weather?
You are cranky and pain in the neck?
Yep, your answer is pills!
U-haul a load of pills along.
High Cholesterol? Low Cholesterol?
High or low blood plessure?
Feeling dizzy? Want to feel high?
Going crazy? Pump up your muscles?
Excel in school? Excel in sports?
Date pills, LSD, Viagra, Speed,
Sugar pills, Heart pills - You name it.
And, pills to knock you out cold!
But do we have a pill to live life right?
A joy pill? A pill for happiness?
A love pill? A pill for peace?
A pill for faith?
A pill for knowledge?
A pill for wisdom?
A pill to appear likable?
A pill for compassion?
If I have a choice,
I'll pick a crystal ball pill
and take a peek into my future -
If not years ahead, just into tomorrow,
Or a pill to disappear into thin air
and escape my pain and sorrow!
~Contest: Make me laugh
Sponsor: A Poet Destroyer.
11/16/21
It's all good, even though my life ain't the best
Another day ready to face what's next
Against major threats
Got to put in work and break a sweat
Take a drink, light it up and erase the stress
Living paycheck to paycheck
Is pathetic and a real pain in the neck
I need to take a trek
Can't expect change with the same attempts
I barely would take a step
Or I went to the greatest depths
Either I was a fool and made a mess
Or I became adept
Often seems like a waste of breath
Only made of flesh
Eventually there will be a date of death
Stay hep
Have we figured out the source of our creation yet?
Most don't, but some relate I guess
An addict full of pain depressed
Never been evil or a fake and pest
How quickly they forget
It had no impact, if I want to I'll make a dent
Take 'em out with an occasional Bayonet
No need to finish it all and say the rest
If you actually knew
Would it change your view?
Get a clue
Don't need to prove
What I can truly do
You're not better than me, and I'm not better than you
Staying true to who I am as a new day drew
Seeing it through
Then bidding adieu
Often I would lose
And booze
Full of the blues
Wasn't always what I would choose
I wasn't in yours and you weren't in my shoes
Heart black and blue
Bruised
With an ooze
Of reddish hues
Use to alcohol and drugs
Not use to hugs
Use to guns and gloves
Not use to love
One thing I want, but am not familiar of
Most so quick to judge
And shove
Or hold a grudge
It's the same old crud, causing blood
To be spilled in ways that are dumb
One of many things we have yet to overcome
Searching for love everywhere through all the sludge
Got to keep on and trudge
And do better at saving my funds
I am such a pain in the neck whenever I have to fly.
When the stewards and stewardesses see me coming
I know they all just want to die.
"Get me this. Get me that. Did you get me this yet
or did you stupidly forget?"
I'll blatantly ignore all the rules and even light up a cigarette.
"You can't smoke here sir. It's against regulation. Put the cigarette out please."
I won't hesitate. I'll tell them right to their face,
"What are you going to do, Force me to leave?"
I'm just pulling your leg. I'm not really that way.
I could never be so rude or crude.
When I fly I generally use that time to sleep,
but I do always sleep in the nude.
His name is spoken, heard and seen
As part of every goddamn scene
Sweet be a cap on every bottle
It all goes on, without a throttle
A new banknote? Oh, there he is
The Arc of Trump? Well, soon be his
The Center for Performing Arts?
Rename attempt, sans playing parts
Half of White House's gone for good
Big void where once the building stood
Leave stains, not marks, is way to go
Our pride’s absorbing every blow
A golden phone, "Made in US"
Except it's not and what a mess
Cashed in our loyalty like a chip
When crypto fails, abandon ship!
He yells and screams and stomps his feet
So, heads of states are rife with grief
Hey, "pay attention to this matter"
Or chance become a worthless splatter
It's one step forward, two steps back
"Go make a deal or we attack"
The weak and meek don't win no war
Phone calls end war, he’ll stop few more
Vane jester of his own court
Amusing pledges, then abort
It hurts to watch, foresee effect
Entire world's pain in the neck
Forgiving History wouldn't be
No lion shall behave like flea
With vanity's his love affair
Except in bath, it's good nowhere
May 30, 2026
Taxicab driver
Midnight rates apply;
Moonlight serenade
Tipsy bar crashers
Stepping out;
Cigarette break
Alcohol buffet
Free flow of beer;
Sorrows guzzled
Chit-chat combat
Happy hour banter;
Bartering progress
Too much stress
Nobody seems to know;
Things will be better
Complaints collide
Bar time gripes;
Bad bossy boss
Pain in the neck
Grumpy buffalo;
Home on the range
End of day
Work retreats;
Until tomorrow cheers
Profound exchange
Gin and tonic;
Alcoholic beverage
More and more
Of less and less;
Vodka and coke
Watering hole
Midnight Saturday;
Party till the last drop
Drop dead gorgeous
After six smoothies;
Tipsy compliance
Leon Enriquez
08 June 2014
Singapore
I'm new to this language; it baffles me so!
With so many mysteries I wish to know:
Why doesn't 'resolve' mean 'to solve it again'?
And why are 'wise guys' not the same as 'wise men'?
Why doesn't 'extraneous' mean 'once was traneous'?
Why's 'miscellaneous' not NOT cellaneous?
Enigmas that seem to me very unmappable,
Unflappable me has become simply flappable.
"You're incorrigible", my friend Mike said to me,
I said, "Corrigible I'll endeavor to be."
One museum we saw had a fossil exhibit
I asked, "Every bone was at one time a hibit?"
"I don't care for inquisitive people", said Mike.
So I asked, "What's a quisitive person look like?"
He looked at me plussed with a look of disgust,
now I hope I can change it to gust and nonplussed.
"Disgruntled employees", my boss said, distressed,
"are a pain in the neck!" I thought, "gruntled is best!"
He scolds my appearance: "Your hair is unkempt",
so I'm bringing a comb to make sure it stays kempt.
"Avoid work mishaps, and do not act unruly".
"Yes sir, boss. I'll only make ruly haps, truly"
He tells me, "Just try not to look so disheveled."
My note to self: make it my goal to look sheveled.
"Intrepid Improvements" the work poster says
"Avoid trepid provements" is my New Year's res.
"Such reckless abandon" someone said to me
so from now on, more reckful I'm hoping to be.
I've tried to appear nonchalant and undaunted,
I'm daunted that I'm more chalant than I wanted.
This poem I'll write in indelible ink -
…much better than delible ink, don't you think?
Six months from now and it's curtains for me
I'll crash through the barrier of 80
I'll officially be old and crotchety and senile
Pablum after my morning pee
Oh for the days had no trouble getting dressed
Now I forget my darn Jockeys
Don't wanna share this bod with anyone else
Everything's become kinda floppy
Once had tight abs... now who am I kidding
The tightest my abs get now
Is when I try bending down to tie up my laces
At times feel like a pregnant cow
I grunt and strain and been known to curse
Saying bad things like, “holy heck"
Can remember those real naughty old phrases
Like “go to blazes” or “pain in the neck”
Guess six months won't make a hugh difference
I'm pretty well ready for the pasture
One thing I've noticed since reaching “maturity”
Time seems to be going a lot faster
So here's some advice for all you young'uns
Enjoy life while you still can
Before you know it, the darn jig will be up
And you'll just be an also ran
© Jack Ellison 2015
A dear old friend of mine of many years was retired the other day.
In many ways I'll miss my pal more than words can say!
Alas, there was no longer need for him and his upper and lower case
Since the computer is now all the rage - he is gone without a trace!
I speak of my trusty IBM Selectric upon which I used to hunt and peck.
Now, I rely solely on my computer - frankly, 'tis a pain in the neck!
'Twas some comfort knowing that if my Selectric went on the fritz,
That I didn't have to call some "expert" in Mongolia when it gave me fits!
In his elder years his parts began to show some wear and tear,
And since the dear old chap hardly qualified for medicare,
'Twas getting difficult to find a typewriter doc for his repair.
After all, he and his elderly peers are becoming rather rare!
It was with some remorse that I consigned him to the Goodwill Store,
Hoping some less technological soul would give him life once more.
Now 'tis just this puzzling 'puter and me for which I have little affection!
(My monitor screen is becoming so blurred using whiteout for correction!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A dear old friend of mine of many years was retired the other day.
In many ways I'll miss my old pal more than words can say!
Alas, there was no longer any need for him and his upper and lower case.
Since a computer took its place he faded into oblivion without a trace!
I speak of my trusty IBM Selectric upon which I used to hunt and peck.
Now, I rely upon old Dell and frankly at times its a pain in the neck!
'Twas some comfort knowing that if my Selectric went on the fritz,
That I didn't have to talk to Basheesh in India when it gave me fits!
In his elder years his parts began to show some wear and tear,
And since the dear old chap hardly qualified for medicare,
'Twas getting difficult to find a typewriter doc for his repair.
After all, he and his elderly peers are becoming rather rare!
It was with some remorse that I consigned him to the Goodwill Store,
Hoping someone would give him a good home and life once more.
Now its just this puzzling 'puter and me for which I have little affection!
(Plus, my monitor screen is becoming blurred with whiteout correction!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved