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The jig was up
and the seller got the shaft
as the fletcher (all a-quiver)
pricing feathers (more arrows for to craft)
saw the target total cost (legal tender)
as sky-high (yet altho' not immoral)
let fly and shot his bolt (at the vender)
which started quite the quirky quarrel
Answering Machine
RRRRRRING…………
Hello and welcome to Oliver’s Olive Oil
Press1 to track your order
Press 2 to place a new order
Press 3 to cancel your order
Press 4 to speak to customer service
Press 5 to find our ours of operation
Press 6 to repeat these options
Press 4 RRRRRRING…….
Hello and welcome to customer service
Press 1 to get our daily pricing
Press 2 to get order our catalog
Press 3 to find out the ingredients
Press 4 to speak to someone in billing
Press 5 to pay your bill automatically
Press 6 to repeat these options
Press 4 RRRRING……..
Hello and welcome to billing
Press 1 to register a billing complaint
Press 2 to find out why you received the wrong order
Press 3 to find out why you received someone else’s order
Press 4 to speak to the billing office manager
Press 5 to speak to the managers manager
Press 6 to repeat these options
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
The auction began and I could feel my pulse patter,
If I don't get this house, my heart it may shatter.
I got my ducks in a row, when I saw the sale poster,
It's been a ride to get here, a real rollercoaster.
You see, the house was my Mama's, but she got in a rut,
The bank foreclosed, on the mortgage contract.
They kicked her out, it was such a calamity.
She was ashamed and embarrassed, questioning her sanity.
The sale day is here, and there is a huge crowd.
I must be the winner, for crying out loud.
The bids were swift, and the sale price kept rising,
I kept raising my paddle, I'd lost track of the pricing.
My hopes began to plummet, but the auctioneer said Sold,
He called my number, my bid had been bold.
I yelled "I won!" and I caught my Mama's eye.
She would have her home back, I knew that she would cry.
Today was a day that I will never forget,
Mama got her house back, and I have no regret.
I miss my Mum’s subtle smile and her love;
recalling the times she’d sip tea and rock.
Now in heaven, looking down from above;
she sometimes visits my dreams, where we talk.
A part of me died when my Mum passed on;
I had never felt such a pricing pain.
My heart instantly broke; all hope was gone;
I never want to feel like that again.
Mum lives in memories; immortal there,
she’s still that spark of life that lit my fire.
I miss her laugh and the scent of her hair;
in the game of life, she played the umpire.
When I’d ask my Mum if God was real,
she’d just smile and say, believe what you feel.
My basket full of plastic flowers:
Pricing them passes all the hours.
Santa could you help me out, I’m in a dozen shades of doubt
Half the world is ‘weapons out’, all the rest just scream and shout
“Don’t do this and don’t do that, would you kindly pause your spat?”
Arms dealers are getting fat… I can’t afford to heat my flat
Grain and fuel are pricing high, body bags in short supply
And thousands duck yet thousands die
But Santa it’s the time of year to spread a little Christmas cheer
And let those that wont listen hear the guns fall silent far and near
So Santa could you help me out and sprinkle your goodwill about
To link the arms of atheist, agnostic and devout
For whilst so many gods abound at every compass point around
Can there not be a middle ground
But all the world says, “We’re the good,” or, “You’re the villain in the hood,”
Or, “You will soon be gone for good.” And diplomats are blocks of wood.
So Santa can you clarify the who, the what, the where, the why
For far away the people cry and one man says that nukes may fly
So war may soon be hereabout, I hope we have sufficient clout
Hey, Santa, could you help us out?
They trudged through the side entrance
past the wall of Pepsi products
down the aisle between
beauty aids and bedding,
passing stacks of toilet paper
‘As Seen on TV’ and sporting goods
deeper into the insatiable appetite
of American consumerism
They entered through the door marked
DO NOT ENTER!
climbed the stairs to exchange their freedom
for a badge number and a pricing gun
to trade their free-will for numbness
They are now doomed to lurk up and down
those never ending corridors
seeking, probing…forever searching
for the end of another work day
Pricing tickets for our stay
Let's go somewhere far away
Away for just a little while
Walks on beaches for a mile
Or two or three or maybe more
No need to care or mind the store
Let the world go on its spiel
While we get off the spinning wheel
I just asked a Cleve Mike
What it might just be like
To fall into a dyke
While riding a fast bike?
A Mike Mc styling,
All day gusto rising,
His showmanship pricing,
His daily cake icing
But Mike was all silence,
My question robbed of sense
Through not planned reticence;
I think A Mike's Patience
But soon from Mike "A hike!"
"Satan's own planned strike"
So, no last violence
To obvious common sense.
Like an Evil Creature, A sword of power.
Contains of all worries digging.
No one can control, What you do.
What you say, Is totally torture.
The limit at end with a force of darkness.
Calculating all you done.
Pricing the pride not accepting.
To much shout, To much pain effect.
That's why everybody sometimes lost.
Drowning in selfishness, Forgot everything.
Cause your own shadow still you hear.
Whisper to you and say You want to win.
Fighting for that you always right.
Not listening and see the true figure of yourself.
This will be the bad side of yours.
A living evil is all around.
There's a way that a sword can forge itself.
Is like your anger inside, you can control it.
When times that you feel you are near.
Please stay between the sky and the sea.
A ninety thousand dollar Jeep,
And that’s a standard one, no less!
The ‘23 Grand Wagoneer
Conquers the school lines best, I guess.
If Coleridge dreamt of Rubikahns
With pricing up among the stars,
I’d search for stash of heroin
And check his needle arm for scars.
A capital idea though
And P. T. Barnum comes to mind,
So climb up in that Wagoneer
And leave those school moms far behind.
These days it's tough being alive
Each day trying to survive
High prices are everywhere
Everyone living in fear
Paychecks not lasting for long
As your trying to be strong
Doing what's right to get by
To support family you try
To stretch out every dollar
But inside you scream and holler
Hoping costs go down again
Like they were way back when
No one had to choose between
Paying rent or food to eat
The Haunting Of A Broken Spirit And Beleaguered Soul.
.
Her pricing haunting blood shocked eyes
Reflect her heavy rain cloud acid corroded heart
And spirit broken beleaguered soul
Although in the summer of her blossoming youth
She aged beyond her tender gifted years
Life has took it’s scourging toll
And she can no longer hold back
Her floods of painful tears
.
The bombshell blast that devastated and destroyed her life
Left her shell shocked unable to piece together
The shards and carnage left behind
Her dreams have turned into nightmares
Her bed but a bed of nails her broken spirit tied to the mast
She once dreamed of idle lush green bejewelled meadows
But now dwells in a mine field in total darkness
And with every breathe and step she takes
She feels the blast
.
Snared and tangled in a cobweb
The more she riddles the more she's tangled
Her hapless struggle is all in vane
She stands on the ege of oblivion
And welcomes an end to her bitter anguish and pain.
.
Peter Dome©2021.
My Thoughts on Friendship
Written: by Miracle Man
1-22-2020
They are not always friends
who come to you with outstretched hands,
and being friendly doesn't constitute friendship.
But I can be a friend to you
without your being a friend to me.
Our demeanor often keeps friendship from being a mutual thing
and It requires some cultivating for great friendships to grow.
When a friend hurts-we hurt,
So if pricing your best friend, what would seem adequate?
and what price would be affixed to you?
You have failed when your worst enemy,
was once counted as your best friend.
Friends are not to be used and discarded,
nor come they with return privileges.
Friends are one of life's true gifts.
Treat those whom God has placed in your path with respect!
Sub Categories
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