Song in the car.
It’s delightful as delicious as richness.
Didn’t sleep for a while.
Roomy.
Sitting.
But it’s more.
Some songs are like stop signs.
They get hit by people who don’t pay attention.
Song in the car.
Makes me slumber.
Next to the house, got back after work.
Makes me want to be the engine.
At rest.
Revving.
Song in the car,
You don’t care that I have to do the dishes.
You just make me sing as if I’m driving.
Home is stillness.
Sluggish.
Whining inside.
So I slept in the car with the song on.
And the engine singing.
Would you like to buy my car
It’s good on gas takes you far
It also runs on electricity smart
And you can find a place to charge
It’s comfortable and roomy too
If you’re tired it can drive for you
It remembers your preferred routes
Takes your there without a doubt
Smart car with a new shiny paint job
It shuts down in case you’re robbed
It scares the car thieves far away
Records their image which they hate
I’m only selling because I need
To get a larger one yes indeed
This little car has been great
Inexpensive with class very safe
My husband and I
now own an adjustable bed.
It lifts about 90 degrees at the head
and 40 degrees at the foot.
An incredible invention except that
my husband likes it low, and I do not.
Our compromise isn’t to my liking!
Our mattress is California King -
72 inches wide and 84 inches long.
It provides roomy comfort for us and our pets,
yet without fail, my spouse
ends up sleeping on my side of the bed
facing me in the fetal position.
Opposites always, I sleep on my right side
and he sleeps on his left.
The cat, when it is there at all,
sleeps often at my feet.
Unequal is our bed’s positional balance
as I lie sometimes precariously on the edge
wishing for a separate bed – a queen size fit for me.
The worst of cures
He had bought a flat in a new apartment bloc still not ready for the buyers, but since it was Sunday, he drove to the building to have a look risky surgery and worried he might live long enough to move into his new home in time
A lift had been installed took it up to the seventh floor, flat looked roomy although it had no floor or windows there was a terrace without railing on the terrace he took in the view, could see the bay and the ocean, the sun warmed his face
Suddenly, he burped, had a blob of something foul in his mouth which spat out in disgust, saw it make a splash on the asphalt that turned green where the blob landed, this caused him to lose balance and without a railing a fatal fall
The obduction showed his body was cancer free
Daffodils were bobbing,
I never thought to ask why?
January was the coldest -
dreams don't care
and the yellow trumpets
were almost speaking
and I almost listening.
However, sex got through
this bucolic view,
the daffs turned
into a belly dancer
I once admired in Luxor.
Now I am being scolded
by a demi-god with goat horns
on his curly head. It's not happy
with my expansive outlook.
I need a fifth gear in a dream car,
a vehicle roomy enough
for both a bed of daffodils
and a rather plumb Egyptian lady.
The goat guy can take a hike.
She likes to hide in my arms,
And I could find out her heart.
Gives some peace for hours,
And feels like years passed.
When she touches my soul,
Um! I speak with her eyes well.
Walking on the roomy streets,
And moments shaping slow.
A leaf stuck in her hairs,
I was willing to take it off,
But she used to look like roses,
So I made to walk too slow.
Winter's mornings are beautiful,
But hardest thing to wake up!
I used to, just to see her shine,
In the sun, in the foggy nature.
I kept it hidden in my eyes,
Till I could make her mine.
And romance of long time,
So I could tell her,"I love us."
Beauty and the Beast
One day in search of that release and a place of peace not so gloomy, but roomy and cold.Standing alone from everything and everyone. Mirrors reflection while glancing through the broken glass,noticing how broken I am. How gracefully beauty fades? Shades of you flicker in the shimmering light. Labeled a beast, but hands are gentle and my heartbeat increased, as a fire was lit. Only never to see you again. Finding myself missing in the shadow of one's self image and the hand that I was dealt. Moving in stealth, alone I wander away in your beauty. Lost never to be seen again.Forever my beauty and you my beast.
In the Land of the Lost, on my floor;folks crazed
A wod jane does yell trash in flush room.; felt miffed
My nerves tense, on this floor -I’m on edge;feel brash
Here 8 months there is no hope in sight; feel stiffed
There’s an old bag here that bums for cash; she’s trash
How to be sane ? I then write poems; do art
Strange sounds comes when my roomy does sleep-old old pfart
I tell him stop it please I crash hard; mind dazed,
Need more cash to live here.I say your; bucks due.
Funds, ask your kin be nice small talk will help you
First two floors and 3 west folks seem not so bad.
I hope the other wards are fairer, am glad,
Nice things to state about the Vigi,caff great.
I like tuna sarnies all dressed please;first rate
I am finished with this poem with much heart .
Perusing the tea, what it brings, vitality, refreshing, or tranquility.
tea’s altruistic -
the elixir gives itself
to succor ailments
I warm leaves up when my hands and feet are icy cold. The boil arouses my expectations. The raucous kettle poured over a roomy sachet.
the tea bag’s floating -
my bobbers are on its craft
as the scent surges
My hands rejoice as they gently wrap around the cup and rebound. When the minuet knells, the unfurled dose is tossed and what remains is to be enjoyed in a calm and comfortable setting, ideally with pretty things and perhaps a nibble of treats.
lift from lace doily -
a sip of essential oils
and crumpet or two
What’s better than to sit across from special friends. The setting of a magnolia tea house or with one’s teddy bears.
little ones practice -
imagination infused
with love’s sugar cubes
Perusing the tea, what it brings, essence to our lives.
Neither one's dark skin nor the black color are bad.
Dusk has its beauty; crows and cuckoos are pretty.
Do the birds chirp because they're psychically sad?
It's the human mind that makes things dull or witty.
Psyche can manipulate; physique can persuade.
The face can shine brightly; the heart may be gloomy.
Psychic vibrations can make even blossoms fade.
It's love for all that makes the human heart roomy.
Dark rooms can be lit up; dark dots can be made bright.
Positive outlooks always erase pessimism.
Though white or black, each being enjoys the twilight.
The rainbow is the world; kaleidoscope and prism...
Shades and shadows are part of this great universe.
Each has its own role. No one in greatness is worse.
She__wearing a shroud of depression
Left each visitor with gloomy feelings
Which they then carried away in succession
In all their life, never having such dealings
She was withdrawn, grim, and gloomy
Born with a melancholy personality
Then her mother died leaving her life roomy
For the pit of depression to swallow her in totality
Wistful thinking could not draw her into a good mood
Nor any action the staff had performed so far
Each word she said was totally rude
Then someone came up with the bazaar
A trip to the space station could do the trick
Out where her life would come into perspective
Where she could see earth and life click
Just what was needed to be a mood corrective
All in all I must say, life has trouble
If on earth you cannot win, space has a Hubbell
Just for fun/ silly/ nonsensical
Date written: 05/08/23
Contest: Eight Word Challenge
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Words used in order used: shroud, depression, gloomy, feelings, withdrawn, grim, gloomy, melancholy, depression,wistful
I glance over
A rose in bloom
Or a gold Egyptian tomb
You look the same as you did last October
I make sure to visit you every day
The sky always looks gloomy
The space between us is too roomy
I can’t bring myself away
I wish I was closer to you
Barriers separate us in many ways
You left me in a daze
Can we ever start anew?
I bring you flowers every time
Sometimes I wonder if you remember me
The petals fall onto you like debris
In this light, I bet you look divine
I wonder what you would’ve looked like in the present
It was so long ago
To you, I owe
I wish I could get to you, the descent
I fall to my knees on the dirt
Tears fall down freely
My feelings for you are ideally
I know you wouldn’t like to see me hurt
My hand rests on your tomb
Fingers trace your name
I glance at your photo frame
The uncanny look of doom
The Uniform
I have a framed photo on my desk of three little boys
dressed in oversized German uniforms doing a nazi salute
A black, square box- camera, a picture was taken
in 1946. I was eight years old.
My uniform jacket reached below my knees like an over
an overcoat was roomy and warm and shielded me from
the cold westerly wind that blew over the flat landscape
and trees stood permanently bent as elderly people are
I was allowed to keep the/jacket coat and happily walked home
The war (as wars go) had been a mild one; we didn’t know
that millions of people had died under much suffering
in the name of a “Hail Hitler.”
At home, my mother refused to sew natural buttons on my coat
and rejected me wearing it outside, but she didn’t mind
if I wore it inside, as it was warm and we had little coal for
heating when the weather was cold.
The grownups make a child’s world difficult so, many things
are forbidden, don’t do this, don’t do that, an endless warning
against what was daring; I wore my coat till it shrunk and
became a jacket and too tight around my shoulders.
I shall go to my grave with your secrets
Those confidences you shared with me,
Hanging your fears in my roomy closets
Where they stay secure, without a fee.
You can trust me never to expose them
For I highly value your confidence in me,
Believe, I will never criticize or condemn
Accept you for who you are meant to be.
Every person needs a confidante friend,
Who stands with them through every trial
Blessed with a sympathetic ear to extend
I will willingly walk with you every mile.
Written August 22, 2022
A man’s apartment is airily roomy
But wears he a face real gloomy …
Soon, I find out his eyes are rheumy
And he thinks he got them through me!
Lousy Guy! My eyes for long not rheumy;
Two years now they to overseas flew me …
And with rheumy eyes in a shelter roomy
One should a reason find to be not gloomy,
Unless issues too has about one’s tummy
Or bemoaning a perception as Dummy.
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