Long Peeved Poems
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It is the Indianapolis 500, I am in the lead of course.
My car has the power of more than a buggy and horse.
Wait! Did that car just pass me? Racing for me is not a whim!
I am irritated and peeved, so I catch up and overtake him.
I hurry to not only catch up, but leave him in my dust.
His old jalopy is not pretty, and has a back fender of rust.
Hey wait! Cars pass on the left, they pass on the right.
They pass down the middle, it’s fight team, fight fight.
This is a challenge and I am more than ready to win.
I streak down the interstate highway with vigor and vim!
You can’t catch me! I yell as I pass everything on the road.
The cops are chasing me now, maybe winning is going to get old.
S-Salmon patties were daddy’s special dish;
A-as kids, we would beg him to make fish knish.
L-Last week, my brother arrived on appeal
M-midst my adventure to fix this same meal.
O-Oddly enough the croquettes turned out grand;
N-not to brag, for bro had given a hand.
P-Plainly peeved, my youngest turned up his nose
A-and so, my brother a wager proposed.
T-Try one, eat it all, I’ll give you a prize -
T-those new earphones on which you've got your eyes.
I- It worked though a trick accomplished with guile,
E-easing one down with ketchup brought a smile.
S-Seconds, his choice, made the meal/deal worthwhile.
There are red and green snitchies in my fingers,
They rapidly chase me down my wooden hall.
Delightedly twirl me I into a mass with their zingers,
Eleven can quickly roll me into a giant ball.
An enormous blue green snitchie ball is on top of the frig.
Keeps me from going willingly into my very own kitchen.
Six are around the corner, laughing, playing lifetime bridge.
I can clearly hear the oldest craziest one britch'n.
I close my eyes and cringe, the start of every single weekend day.
Snitchies in my mind, making me feel like something is off.
Pink and lavender snitchies, yelling “hey, woman get up, hey!”
Grandma Snitchie is knitting an afghan, and I hear her cough.
I close my eyes and pretend I am asleep or dead or have had a fall.
Ignoring them in the nicest way, knowing how fast they can roll me.
Into a snitchie ball. Uncomfortable before I have bath-roomed at all.
My heart stops as I hear an army of them stomping down the hall with glee.
Their stories were charming at first, so I let a few in, but they got old fast.
I hold myself in a very polite “I am dead” sort of way, hoping they will leave.
Surely this Snitchy Colony they have made in my house cannot forever last.
They bounce me off and roll me up, so now I am sort of almost a bit peeved.
Guess what? We’ve made you our mayor, they yell happily.
I am excited, because I did not know I had even run!
I fly through the air and someone catches me quite snappily.
I giggle and laugh. Being the Mayor has made this semin-hostile Snitchie Take Over quite fun!
She had no one but Poindexter but he was more than enough
As a cat he was a force to contend with and rather wily and tough
It is Valentine’s Day and it is only these two supportive friends.
He is waiting patiently as she pours the milk and makes amends.
Poindexter has been a bit peeved since she was gone a week.
He has missed the cat litter box twice, to give her a healthy peek
At what happens if she starts staying out late, not doing his bidding
He will do the deed on her favorite couch, and he is truly not kidding.
His minion has her hand on his back, in an endearing kind of way.
He watches her closely as she pours white milk into his bowl today.
He had a bad mistress before, so he knows this one is wonderful.
He settles down under her familiar hand, unity his major goal.
Where did those wayward thoughts come from? He asked himself.
She reaches high for the cat treats that are on the second shelf.
She’s a wonderful minion, he tells his conscience now.
Let’s go along with whatever she needs, for she is kind of a wow.
Two scores and more years back, as I recall,
I find my left elbow pounding with pain
Mere bending it when turned a task no small,
And left me clueless for the cause for strain.
As unknown to us seasons oft set in
Early or late till one day forced are we
To tune unto change unwilling or keen,
But more than pain, impending plight peeved me.
The medic I met, cooler than what came
And surer more, called it tennis elbow,
To my protest, not having played the game,
He shrugged and left to leave me watch him go,
But turned: beware fame just follows my name,
Call it by any name, it’d pain the same.
If pain it’d all the same, I better plug
In, listen to him, alleviate my pain
And leave his door like unseasonal rain,
Took his drug list as if were a bad bug.
Pain persisting, gaining intensity,
The devil in doc felt vindicated,
Looking kind, stern-eyed still, nodded at me,
Happy to see his patient defeated.
Over-ruled, rebel on knees, out elbowed,
Bowed to submission, folding my sleeve
I submit, wait for explanation owed,
He looks up a grievous verdict to give:
There’s no escape if seed is duly sowed,
Yield to what pain proffers, plead no reprieve.
_______________________________________
Crown of sonnets | 03.11.2012, revised July 2023|
Poet’s note: Here are sonnets I and II of a sequel of ten sonnets constituting one single poem called a crown of sonnets. The last line of the preceding sonnet is repeated as the first line of the next sonnet, but not verbatim; nor is the first line of the first sonnet is repeated as the last line of the tenth as is. The sestets are either a quartet and a couplet or two sets of three-lined Terza Rima. Hurt is the place from where light enters, and it did, I realized after my long-drawn medical treatment.
A story of her and him in an old shaky school,
Girl likes him although she seems to be fool.
Boy never likes her that much,
He gets peeved because she’s obviously such.
Girl tells everyone that she madly loves him,
Painful to know that he never likes the way she seem.
She did everything to make him like her,
Stars and moons can’t change his mind to love her.
Boy is numb but he’s not a dumb.
He sees the truth but can’t deal the girly lamb.
Girl silently gets hurt because of him,
Secretly cries in a corner with a picture of him.
The world is round and is still rotating,
Years will pass and there will be changes on their feeling.
It may not be today or tomorrow
A petty love story will never be that girl’s sorrow.
Form:
The entrance ramp to the interstate is closed.
No problem. It is a great day. The sun is out. I am comfortable in my air conditioned truck.
I travel to another interstate ramp. Red and blue lights again.
Another closure. No problem. But my thoughts go to drama.
A police chase? A sniper? A freeway pile up? An Amber alert?
No problem. I can get to another entrance ramp. I am surprised that it is closed,
Not expecting this three times in a row. This must be something serious.
Then I see the helicopter.
Suddenly I am glad I am not on the interstate.
In my mind’s eye convicts are running amok trying to open car doors.
Two more entrance ramps are closed, guarded by police cars.
I circle back to my starting point, exhausted now.
And more than a little bit peeved.
The time I have spent trying to get on a ramp is double the time it usually takes to return home.
I call my husband. “What is going on?”
“The President is in town,” he tells me. “Every interstate ramp from downtown to
The airport is closed, so he can get to the airport safely.” This is forty miles of interstate ramps,
How many police cars and police officers are being paid and used for this ridiculousness?
Our entire town is inconvenienced for a couple of hours, so the czar can get
To his airplane?
I did not think I could dislike the man any more than I already did.
I was wrong.
Kiddies, I'm sorry to say that Santa may be visiting you late this year,
As he struggles to circle the Earth spreading his delightful cheer!
Santa had to retire Rudoloph and his friends leaving them much aggrieved,
And long-suffering Mrs Claus is in a snit and left sorely peeved!
It may be New Years Day before he arrives, but he'll visit you eventually,
So place a snack of cookies and milk or salami and cheese 'neath the tree!
That old grinch in the White House decreed that dear old Santa's sleigh,
Henceforth, must be battery powered, to be effective on this Christmas Day!
Alas, Santa must land every 350 miles or so, the battery to refresh!
(Hopefully, he can do this in such unlikely places as Bangladesh)!
No longer will you hear reindeer hooves dancing on your roof in the snow!
But be patient, little ones; Santa will greet you soon with a cheery ho-ho-ho!
.
At The Bodhi Tree
Magnetic Majestic Enchanting
The Tree talked to Buddha in making
Young Siddhartha turned Buddha here
Majestic Tree, this one is not the original
History of 2500 yrs this tree is the fourth
as the lore goes the original is no more
Doesn’t matter. IT Is alive, electrifying
At the very spot The Tree still stands
Buddha spent Seven weeks, .in all
One week He unblinkingly Stared
Watched At the tree Lovingly
Revered. Are these Spots
The tree atracted mighty kings
Emperor Ashoka the foremost
The feuding warring kings
Sat there meek transformed
Now comes the interesting lore;
Who cut the Tree first time? And why
LOL it out you may, It was wife of Ashoka
A mighty queen herself She was so peeved.
Ashoka would travel 100 miles to be at the tree
Not done The queen couldn’t take it any more
She ordered ..
the tree be
WHACKED …
The tree fell
That was first
blow the tree took
Subsequent invasions;
and Time.. the tree came down
Three more times As the lore goes
The present one is from a sapling
That was brought from Sri Lanka
Sapling of the original Bodhi tree
Was taken there to Sri Lanka by
The daughter of Ashoka ,
Sanghamitra;
253BC
.
cranky bee was born on the underside of the hive
he has been cranky since minutes old, maybe five
this was from his mother, but his daddy agreed
He has always been angry, always seems peeved.
you could not have a regular conversation with him
He was always angry with Tom, Dick, Johnny and Jim
Always looking for the bad side, and always finding it too
He is still angry today, and he is forty-two
Most have moved on, and do not waste any time
They see that he is determined to be filled with irritation grime
cranky bee has never gotten over one single slight
Frankly, said my drone friend; he is not very bright.