I'm no grump
nor one to dump
let alone mock
but I can't like or lump
a pudgy frump
in a frock
who my world don't shock
yet here's the kicker
as a chick
she'd be slicker
and not to deride
but if she'd lose a few
a pound or two
the sooner the quicker
on either side
she'd be bodacious
I'd be flirtatious
and we'd roll and rock
around the clock
Two sugar of lumps
Pause above tea cup
You raise an eyebrow
I quiver with mine
Please keep them both
You are sweet enough
To cherish some more
Sweet tea with laughter
I woke up one day and I felt a lump
My thoughts went astray
And I fell into a slump
I googled online for an answer
What came to mind was I had breast cancer
I thought about pink ribbons and clever T-shirts
I thought of all the women who died
And all of their pain and hurts
I thought of my bald head
After rounds of chemo
I’ve never been mountain climbing
I’ve never been to a casino
I’ve never been horseback riding
I’ve never been to Reno
I started writing a will
And all the bills I had to pay
And it wasn’t until I called the doctor
Who diagnosed me right away
My breast began to leak
And it was all in one section
I was relieved and couldn’t speak
It wasn’t breast cancer
It was only an infection
I rub my neck
My fingers find something hard
I press hard again
Youth gone, lust goes a lump lily,
Wealth on wane, withers family,
Water drained, vanishes the lake,
Truth once dawns, world looks nigh but fake.
________________________
Translation |25.10.2024| lust, family, lake, truth/reality, world
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. This verse strikes good rhymes with kaama-vikaarah, parivaarah, kaasaarah, and samsaarah. It points out what happens when something crucial vanishes. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Vayasi gate kah kaama-vikaarah,
kshheene vitte kah parivaarah |
Shushhke neere kah kaasaarah,
jnyaate tattve kah samsaarah ||
From her sacred heart blooms a flowered essence
anointed in sapience and love ;
Insightful, as the rain from God's parapet
this cloistered soul rings true
only for the Maker's open hand.
Touched by His Grace, he has created
"The Mystic " in her,
from a lump of wet clay to Sacred fire.
The undying Artificer with His holy hand
Formed a lump of clay into living figurine,
Human Being, by name of its mortal brand.
It fell into this earth from heavenly shrine.
The creature of clay packed the empty earth
With its disparate footsteps, singular self
And grew into Races, dyed in Colour of birth.
It drenched itself in particles of lethal pelf.
Humans with a secular Name exist, expire.
Few entities of their finest feats and fame
Enlighten this earth. Yet they are, are, are
Only a lump of clay with a transient name.
Form trembles my mind
all matter fads to decay
Empty sense objects
void, hollow, insubstantial
breathes mental impermanence
The female voice without seeing the creature
Is really appealing, like a goddess with sweet features
But we're sometimes surprised
Turns out she's crossed eyes
With a lump on her bumper or a tot on her teeter
A very sexy lady once took me aside
Patted me on my enormous backside
Said, lose some pounds
And we'll go a few rounds
But the lump in my jumper committed suicide
what we did with trump
will learn how to take each lump
bear roads with a bump
Jim Horn
Jim Horn
Trump Lump of Lard Horn Haiku
Trump sure is old grump;
Broke ankle slipping on stump,
With lard a big lump.
Jim Horn
Clippity clomp stomp romp chomp
its wabbit making racket with a hatchet
He's got a hump and a stump rump
he goes fuzzy wuzzy chinzy flimsy
when the lame rain yanks his brain chain
thats when he just goes insane *
Button the mutton with cotton Farmer John
fish for a dish Mr. Mish cuz the fish caught a wish
he will wheeze and he'll sneeze so if you please
send the bunny to ma Honey she's no dummy
she likes a lamb that won't scram passed the ham
Mister Kismet go ahead fit it, wack it, sack it
cuz dippity sippity whippity Sue
has got your number shoe
and she' went fuzzy wuzzy chinzy flimsy over you
Herooooo, Herooooo, Herooooo
you know what to do !!!
Dec. 22, 2018
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Contest: Bunny Jump
I remember
Your smile
When you told me
You wanted to be a writer
More than that
What you wrote
You sliced me apart
And stuffed my faults
Down my throat
You could not swallow
That I was choked
I look you up once in a while
Curious to see if you made it
You were so damn talented
To this day I still have a lump
Sunday September 30th 2018
Remembering What You Want To Forget
Poetry Contest Sponsored By Kim Rodrigues
A fellow from the south of South Africa
Waltzed around in a skirt made of taffeta
Some thought he was strange
With his long curly mane
A lump in his skirt proved him male to the maxima
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