My metabolism went missing~
moseyed off one lazy morning,
mumbling something about
mandatory moonlit me-time.
Now it mingles with mischief,
maybe munching on marshmallows,
maybe meandering through
mysterious medieval corridors
with zero motivation to return.
Meanwhile, I’m here~
making peace with my monstrous midsection,
marveling at how one small,
slippery, stubborn system
can stage such a spectacular
metabolic mutiny.
PS “Wherever my metabolism wandered off to, would you at least send a postcard?!”
Holes in his jeans
give a telling impression
small tattoo drawn
across his midsection
Boots have been worn down
loosing most of its tread
Tent along the river
is where he laid his bed
Stain on his teeth
you can only see with a smile
Enjoying a home cooked meal
has been quite a while
Something in his eyes
says nothing's okay
he rarely makes eye contact
always looking away
He feels the judgement come
from you and me
"I am a person like everyone else,
can't you see?"
There's no help coming
to give him a home
Endless train tracks
he will continue to roam.
Hello my poetry soup family
I'm back from a much needed internet fast
I pray all of you are doing well and are in good health
Hopefully laughing at least once a day
Although cracking up is better
let's make that our goal.
Cracking up at least once a day
Not a snicker
Not a giggle
Not a smirk
Uncontrollable laughter
The kind that echo and travel down the black top
Split at the corner of the block and go in both directions
The kind of laughter that happens 9 times in a row
Until it's out of your system
But you have to grab your pudgy midsection
Because its in pain after you're done
I'm laughing and smiling in Philly (215)
Hopefully it's contagious
And you catch that instead of COVID
[this was written to celebrate July 2nd, the halfway point of the year]
I've been called...
half pint
half wit
half awake
...and half a dozen other half-baked
semi-insults that I have
half a mind
to half-heartedly
ignore
I'm somewhere in the middle now...
mid-career
middle class
middle of the road
excess baggage in my midsection
dodging a mid-life crisis
I woke up in the middle
of a good dream
Told my friends I ran a half marathon
"so, you couldn't finish a whole one?" they joke
as I half smile
for some reason I half expected to be
half the distance to the goal by now
though the roadmap keeps changing
I'm happy to be
halfway to somewhere else
‘babes you need UV protection’
from top to tail and midsection
‘I’m African don’t be daft’
quite insulted she laughed
a masterpiece of self deception
but the tan worshipper in Cape Town
decided her skin must get more brown
took a book to sun
but it was ’Shantaram’
now she got blisters and a burnt frown
the sequel is called ‘Mountain Shadow’
900 pages to become quite aglow
thought she reflected her lesson
from scripted obsession
and consumed part two in the snow
she became frosted in flakes and purblind
‘babes some advice if you don’t mind’
the book has dangerous thickness
and then there is altitude sickness
Mount Kilimanjaro can be unkind
now she reads reclined in the boudoir
fact fiction fantasy and mysterious lore
Hawaiian tropic neath pajamas on cutis
sun shades and bedsores on gluteus
and wonders what else reading has in store
should she try with fins snorkel and mask
but corals sting and sharks have a blast
a most unappealing notion
why not apply sun lotion
and make misconception a thing of the past
14th June 2020
a true story and part of the family legend
There’s an old barn down the road from our house. It’s bent and bowed and one windy day away from completely succumbing to its aged disrepair. It’s midsection is stretched and swollen. The barn doors saggy and gaping. The once fresh, beautiful red paint is dull and cracked, even completely stripped clean away in some places. We’ll call her a She for the sake of this story.
At one time, she was full of life. TeamIng with potential. Her red panels stood erect and strong, protecting every living being inside. She was proud and hopeful and happy. And then life happened. Storms and fires. Births and deaths. Years and years of giving without asking anything in return.
Now here she sits. Alone. The world forever changing around her. Even the trees surrounding her sit leafless and wilted, branches weeping over the top of her lifeless structure. I wonder when she gave up? Or rather, I wonder when she was given up on?
Along came the rain;
It moisten the ground again;
Ants run way beneath down into their mounds;
Spring rains on;
Butterflies sucking nectar;
Sugar sweet sharing with the moths and bees;
As the coolness of rain blows in;
Hurring tappins the sweet sticky liquid;
Nourishment for midsection;
Along comes summer dies up the rain;
Hot times to uprise;
A blaze dries up the rains;
Grasshoppers dance on the burning grass;
Caterpillars chasing squirrels;
Await the next rain chance;
To have mudball fights;
Crickets mate communicate rub their legs;
Sounds heard all around the garden;
Along came the rain;
It moisten the ground again;
Humans, insects and birds run away beneath hide seek shelter from;
Spring rains on;
12/12/18
Through the looking glass you are perfection.
Strong, brilliant, resilient, my hearts reflection.
A positive change in my life's direction.
Love surrounded by affection.
A connection powering my heart's resurrection.
Butterflies consuming my midsection.
Through the looking glass you are you, you are perfection.
Those Legs
her legs,those heavenly sent long legs
like tall fruit trees bearing a harvest
tan and toned to perfection
joining the midsection of delight
she far more than a pretty tease
moved with passion oozing in spasms
like a melon split ripe open
sweet juice begging to be had
those legs- timbers sublime
and me- begging, begging for more time
R.J. Lindley
Spring, 1987
Wife Driving Me Crazy
That is exactly what she is doing
More of it appear to be ensuing
Both Hillary clothes and her hair
Should thrown away some where.
What she needs is fresh new start
So President can play the part
And not into a deep well be dug
When her clothes look like a rug.
Needs a change and new direction
To cover up her whole midsection
Clothes style and hair we are meeting
Both of them seem to be self-defeating.
So to appropriate people please forward
So that Hillary supporters can look toward
That up to standards of modernization
She will look like after further examination.
Forward this to appropriate parties and
associates this would apply to,
I have been trying @chriscuomo
and haven't had any look and know
that I can depend upon all of you experts.
Jim Horn
Waste Not Want Not
My parents and grandparents taught me
Waste not and want not they said
But liposucked fat into bar soap
I can’t get that thought through my head
The fat that is sucked from some rich ladies
Like all fat can be rendered to soap
Perfumed and then sold back to rich ladies
At least so the makers all hope
The waste from the waist was just wasted
Until someone thought “let’s waste not”
Someone somewhere will sure buy it
If we advertize it as hot
It’s available now in Miami
At 1000 dollars a bar
They hint but they don’t really tell you
It came from some Hollywood star
“Waste not and want not’s” good guidance
But sometimes – well waste is just waste
But don’t let my writing dissuade you
If liposucked fat soap’s your taste
So lather up when you feel dirty
But keep in mind where it came from
Some lady’s thigh or midsection
Or even perhaps her big bum
Uncle Mike
As I reach down for my lady fair
and hoist her up she twirls
in mid-air,and gently straddles
my mount with her chin on my chest
and her forehead tucked under my chin
the smell of lavender rushes instantly
with arms wrapped around midsection
I can feel her warm breath on my neck
I can feel her heart pounding on my chest
"Sir Knight,faster please",she pleads
so I gently dig my heels into our mounts side
and we begin to enjoy the rhythm of trotting
both of our hearts now pound with urgency
as I dig my spurs the forelegs lift high
and the hindquarters begin its Lippizan dance
my boots firm in my stirups,my lady
leans back with her hair now mingling with mane
as i brace her with my arms under hers......
........"such a ride,Sir Knight,we must do this again..."
"it's our dream,fairmaiden,again and again...."
"then let eternal sleep together be forever like this"
Ah-h-h....to dream....and to dance
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