“Don't bray at me, you stupid donkey.
In my eyes, you're a foolish monkey”
“Don't brag like a despot,
on wearing a striped coat.
I know, you are cruel and grumpy”
A Turquoise Noise
Green is gift, I share.
Hachoo noise made from the spray
and flew through the air.
Excuse, me!
by Martin Braun
July 2, 2023
Dimwits say, he said with disdain
When cows lay down it’s going to rain
And if those cows decide to stand
The day will be a lot less bland
But if some lay and some are stood?
Explain that one if you would.
But that didn’t throw me for hours
Easy I said... scattered showers
Competing infinities,
which one to choose
Existential polarities,
exchanging their views
Superpositioned,
anthropic in scope
The tradeoff endemic,
whose difference elopes
Twin parallel universes
push and then pull
Existing in quantum,
the vacuum is full
Symbiotic in concept,
his razor now sharp
As we search for their meaning
—ever lost in the dark
(Villanova University: March, 2021)
Biting my paws
as my other leg goes
Snufflle turns
to insect hunt
A noise deserves a bark
She moved i have to follow
Turn and turn
Perfect position found
sprawled on ground
Chasing everything in my dream
a whine before
a gentle hand gives comfort
a lick retort
hey
i just
came
to play
no need
for such
words
you
are a ninety
nine pound
for pound
weakling
throwing
beach sand
and urine
scented litter
in other's
eyes but
i'm better
than that
jeff stop
dogging
my
cat
To live within the moment,
and write as love does now befriend
“Light shining brightest as
hours grow short”
A beginning reunites with
the journey’s end
“Memory imploding
on fate's retort”
A window reopens,
my heart beats faster still
“Epiphany’s march
neither to nor from”
To be saved in a final breath,
one last line to say I will
“The past and future
left exposed—undone”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
To live within the moment,
and write as love doth now befriend
“It’s light burning brightest as the
hours grow short”
The beginning reunited
with the journey’s end
“All memory imploding
on fates retort”
But the window stays open,
my heart beats faster still
“The march to freedom
neither to nor from”
Time enslaved in a final breath
one last line to say I will
“The past and future
left exposed—undone”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
His wife called him a good for nothing rat
As in his armchair old Jim sat,
Jim retorted with a very broad grin,
You know you will never get a double chin,
Because all that exercise is bound to kill fat.
If I'm to be the neck
you fit inside a noose,
then spin me up a soul.
When you can define it -
and find it -
you let me know.
Until then, Mother-Father
fix your own malfunctions.
This universe
is your slaughterhouse.
I just work here.
Mr. Tim's fired a limerick back at me
Usually I give 'em, not get 'em you see
Surprised me somewhat
Coz I'm not one to strut
When I do, I rent out my body for free!
© Jack Ellison 2015
At odds about the undertakers fees, Mark Twain jeered:
“There is a system of extortion going on here!”
What horrific prices to pay for just a box and hole
When it's not the body we care about, but the soul!
This clerihew is derrived from reading Mark Twains views on burying the dead. His only quotation is the second line. ( Mark Twain and the Carson City Undertaker) - February 1864
Sandra Hudson, 1/18/2012
They call you the fallen one,with short tuffted curls
the one responsible for the chaos in the world
you may be the cause,as we live the effect
but your time is near,as you continue to infect
Like an invisible predator,you prey on the weak
like a pride of lions,you pounce on the meek
false pride as it is,your rebellious tirades
the lamb shall arrive to expose your charade
You've enjoyed this sadomasochism way too much
mad puppeteer with an unseen touch
unconscionable,incorrigible,shameless you believe
disgraced by your own doing,from tricks up your sleeve
There are some whom believe,even you have a purpose
hard to conceive,as you delight being murderous
ravager of souls and the misled conscience
fantasy and fallacy are amusements fictitious
But I...
Sheathed in light,resistant to your malice
filled to the brim like a holy chalice
illusory charms deflect from the scene
impermeable am I,to your vicious deeds...
especially,
how you conduct your kangaroo court......
The crispness of your knife goes snick!
Cutting up my dreams like celery,
To make hors d’oeuvres that you, Time, pick
And gobble till you’ve swallowed me.
But while you cut, your blade will knick
Hard upon my iron bone;
It trims me to the very quick—
But still, my skull will dull its hone.
I winced disenchantment whenever you fell
Through countless absurdities I held my tongue
While you courted your daydreams from hell.
I mastered the rules willing all to be well
As you blitzed career ladders splintering each rung
I winced disenchantment whenever you fell.
I laid low, so fierce your desire to excel
Your mint julep put-downs like scorpions stung
While you courted your daydreams from hell.
I wallowed in patience, don’t ask and don’t tell
I begged your repentance where hope’s crosses hung
I winced disenchantment whenever you fell.
A childishly reckless, indulged Southern Belle
Your frivolous insults so flippantly flung
While you courted your daydreams from hell.
For years poise and wit lulled me lame with their spell
I yearned for the charmed days when love’s fruits first sprung
But your mind’s locked up tight in a bright padded cell
I winced disenchantment whenever you fell
While you courted your daydreams from hell.
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