Skin felt the pain
While playing a peaceful golfing game
Challenging the course’s blister campaign
Terrorizing the toe
Forcing a temporary surgical sew
Oh
No
To keep this show
On the go
They must know
Basic health care
Not to scare
Removing infected nail
Transporting remains towards the waste management pail
Bloody and red
Now dead
Left as trash
Above the fairway grass
Next to Frank’s Furter
Who was murdered
After pork barrel spending
And over lending
Worth commending
Pending
Cooking the links
Hearing what others think
About another medical review
Of the pinkie one too
Country club house bound
And the parfect round
No bogeys in sight
Feeling right
Since all has healed
Closing the deal
Without a squeal
Or scream
From the green
Manicured and pristine
Ready for a four-day dream
red toe nail polish
sneaks through warm white sand
shining back at sun
As the New Year is almost upon us
It’s becoming clear just how rotten
The smiling face of our nation is,
So what better time
To set it straight.
Everywhere you look waste, fraud and abuse
Overflows, as it has for many decades,
But now that the Somali day-care fraud
Is being unearthed,
Not only are the molars seen as totally rotten,
But the gums gingivitis infected as well,
To the extent all the teeth
Now need to be pulled.
And where does that leave US?
Toothless and sore and helplessly vulnerable,
And yet we’d still be alive.
Which is more than it will be
If we don’t root out the rot
Tooth and nail.
(12/28/25)
I've come to the conclusion,
you can't walk both sides of the street for long,
sooner or later, you must make a decision,
pick one and stick to it, whether right or wrong.
No one is in control of everything, all the time,
so, when the situation becomes furious and fast
the hour is now to stand up, be counted,
nail your colours to the mast.
And, if not with, then you're against them,
somewhere you have to draw the line,
no matter who's side you're on,
but, as for me... I'm on mine.
Dead as a door nail
longer than a short hair
Crazier than my au pair
living in luxury
Counting on ten fingers
while my headache lingers
fatter than an opera singer
singing songs about his misery
Mountain from my mole hill
think I need a chill pill
living with no ill will
while I am practicing my tambourine
Hard to keep from cursin
with this headache I am nursin
trying to avoid a public scene
Time to get some fresh air
while I still have head hair
maybe sink a submarine.
Black lashes
blown off of a fingerpad that throbs
in tandem with an overharvested eyelid
flit to the floor—
wasted wishes
manufacted in mockery of dandelion's dance.
Keratin cracks
beneath the pressure of enamel,
exposing weak, watery skin
on trembling fingertips—
nervous nibbles
evolved into voracious, cannibalistic cravings.
Though hope
fractures under the weight of repugnant gazes
and my unsightly nubs grasp blindly for pigments to suppress
these habitual shames—
flesh forgives
more than the self, and, like a forest after a fire, it grows back.
It always grows back.
Another hallowed arrow from his quivers
One of cricket’s greatest shiver givers
Coursing down your spine like rivers
Fine line..never dithers as slivers
Of adversaries hopes on the ropes..withers
Tipples tickle our livers
The latest tropes of how
Somehow…anyhow won’t kowtow
Postman Pat delivers
Matinee idol looks tease
Record books hooks please
Finds batters crannies &
Nooks with such ease
Impeccable length…metronomic
Chin music chagrin
Such strength..astronomic
Gift of getting the ball to lift
Chronic bounce…hedonic
With his swag bag of quicks tricks
Name on the adored hall of fame
Lords boards with six..another Cummins elite fix
Beat Bob Willis’s record tome of the best
Test figures for a captain at cricket’s home..
Yep..yet another done like a kipper
By this chipper ripper skipper
Who’s not found wanting
His chiselled jaw..up there for sure
With the mean hardcore
Ponting or Waugh
As the best Test baggie green
Top draw Captain (not woke...just a better bloke) seen on screen
Or that’s maybe ever been
These broken nails
Not pretty to look at,
My triumphs, my fails
Mean more than that
Been scratching away
Digging for some end,
By night, by day …
‘Til they begin to bend
Once polished to a shine
… Is perfectly cracked,
With pulled hair of mine
And my nerves wracked
All glitter, all gold …
Neither one can stay,
But, broken nails, I'm told
Says something anyway.
"Go along to get along" a wise man he once said
(altho' I don't concur)
but it occurred to me
neither follower nor leader be if you want to get ahead
and if the herd you stroll behind please do consider the view
(but not too closely)
yet what is worse yes you may curse
that which you step into
some believe the squeaky wheel it should be removed
(not receive the grease)
as all's smooth-run when replaced by a working one
or so it has been proved
to mindlessly open the mouth thoughtless of going kaput
(only to change feet)
it seems to me an opportunity to put a bullet in one's foot
the nail that sticks out it should be applauded
(not hammered down)
as one may fall for anything
and those who stand for something they should be rewarded
tho' possibly preaching to the choir some say it's idle chatter
(willy-nilly silly patter)
let's not forget to forgive or to live and let live
as ALL lives matter
tooth
jagged, canine
aching, decaying, eating
denture, enamel, manicure, claw
grabbing, clenching, filing,
etched, pinpoint
nail
Nail on The Floor
Glass half full
Glass half empty
Life that’s null
Or life of plenty
A screw on the floor
Is not one falling
But just one more
To our life’s building
The choice is ours
Each day to take
Whether rich or poor
Life’s what we make
I'm in line at a store, and I'm bored,
Typing on my phone, restless and alone.
I’ve got light-blue nails, like the sky or your eyes.
I like them, it’s my favorite color - I don’t know why.
I’m buying flavors for my coffee, nutmeg and pumpkin spice.
I like having coffee in the morning, when it’s cold, they’ll taste nice.
There’s a really old lady at the check-out, she’s moving very slowly.
She’s paying with cash and coin, from a pouch, counting carefully, holey-moley.
She’s frail and reminds me of my Grandmère, with her white hair,
her sturdy shoes, I want to pick her up and hug her - but laissez-faire.
When my turn came, I waved my Apple watch over the pay terminal - it’s fast and contactless - like the whole world. Does anyone hug old ladies anymore?
The story could not become stale:
Farouk had pilfered from a mail;
Also, in some shop picked a pail
And, yet, another a huge bale...
When things began to read "Jail"
Farouk had already turned tail
And for waiting ears had his tale:
That he had come to some friends hail,
One of them male and the other female.
Then, a Ben chose to at him rail,
Swearing to lock him up, no bail:
For simply leaning on a bale
And insisting he'd touched a pail,
His guilt linking with his face pale
And this repeating without fail...
So, please, Smart Cops should not me nail,
For this is all about False Trail.
A carpenter for a clean job poised
And for a new ceiling I rejoiced.
Like soldiers' flag he did ceiling hoist,
His eyes of full true confidence moist...
A carpenter who knows a good joist
upon him you can't a bad one foist,
From afar would pick its sad fake smell,
Long before his hammer hits the nail.
The poised I had his price paid fully:
All that he'd asked for brought duly,
Pledge to not kill his time made truly;
Orders for his drinks given coolly.
A paid carpenter, I know, just works,
For if he does not his bottle corks.
I have been systematically bitting
my nails since I was 6 year's old
so I am told
Sometimes way down past where
the skin begins and blood starts
And it hurts so much I can't even
pick stuff up
And yes I know it's a filthy habit and
it really hurts
I have somehow never been able to stop
So what is the explanation or only
conclusion to be gained
Am I in fact a sadist do I love pain
1 thing is most definitely for certain
I must quite obviously be stupid
because I know what I am doing
to myself
And even despite all this I still won't
be stopping any time soon
Nailed it
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