.
unless
yuh wish
wuhnuh
'fore dinner
,)>
Rub-a-dub-dub ~
Mommy and her little one, splashing in the tub,
playing with Mr. Beluga, the whale,
and grabbing Wally the walrus by the tail,
and riding two seahorsies:
one named Gitty, the other one Yup.
Hope my future children have more bottles of perfume than Sterilium in their cupboards.
Favourite smell?
Alcohol rub and the scent of sterile hospital wings.
(Emphasis on sterile)
Maybe because of what comfort meant as a kid.
How does one get time with their parents when they practically live in the hospital?
Something I learnt as a 4-year-old was to just go live in the hospital with them xD
I camped in an empty OT to study, when Amma was on call the other day.
And it left me feeling like a kid perched on a rocky stool beside my dad in his clinic.
Brought back memories of another time -
Of afternoon naps in changing rooms, and running up long windy ramps, a playground with wheelchairs.
Is it surprising that I have 2 bottles of (gifted) perfume as opposed to 3 bottles of Sterilium in my cupboard?
What nursery rhyme's gayer, I'm asking you, bub,
Than the one that has three grown men sharing a tub?
Was it their sexual orientation,
Or merely water conservation,
And they were all charter members of the Sierra Club?
Words
Seem to point
To an underlying
Reality..
Which implies
Separation..
It's two
Not not-two..
That's the rub
It may seem
With words...
A place to raise your glass
or raise the hair right off your head
Where liquor flows and tongues will wag,
be warned of what is said
A place where open secrets
bare desires to fulfill
And nearly every fantasy
to satisfy at will
Anonymous in nature
are the patrons you will find
And you can be yourself and
take a trip of any kind
Wedding vows and high hat bows
are left outside the door
And once you dare to come inside
you’ll find you’re wanting more
How to find this wanton place
when you’re up to no good
Just turn the corner, take the path
and penetrate the wood
This place is so revealing
you cannot miss its sign
A hidden space, clandestine love
its name is by design
Who might you meet, a husband
or a wife inside this pub
Just take a stroll inside your head
for therein lies “The Rub”
Vicks Vapor Rub is my most favorite scent.
If it was tasty, I would eat it,
so it could seep out of my pores as I slept.
I love the menthol of it;
I love the comfort of it.
I love it up one side and down the other.
Vicks Vapor Rub reminds me of my childhood
My mom would rub this on our chests,
Our backs, our necks, nightly in the winter time.
Our furnace was always turned way down,
to save money, so Vicks Vapor Rub warmed us up.
It reminds me of oatmeal, and cigarette smoke
and other smells of my mother.
Oh but to rest this mad toiling mind!
Sleep? Nay, to sleep perchance to dream
Dreams. Ay, there lay the problem
How, then, to find solace
Can it be achieved...
true peace of mind?
Not in life
but in
death
I never had much of an inflated ego
Vanity left me at birth
Our self esteem should travel wherever we go
But I always doubted my worth
The awful commotion of plane hitting ocean
Woke every shark in the sea
And I’m left alone with a gut wrenching notion
Why did they overlook me
The crash had killed plenty, the sharks had took twenty
So why did our lord make me last
I doubted a sentry was there to defend me
The next shark did not just swim past
‘My lord,’ I called out, ’what was I about?
Deliver some meaning to me’
That shark chewed me up, and then he said ‘YUK!’
And spat me back into the sea
He coughed and he spluttered and then the shark muttered
’I thought that I’d tasted it all...
I’ve eaten your species, but you taste like faeces’
And that made me feel really small.
Mortal man's stuck in the can
He can't get off the pot
He goes and goes, it never ends
Could be some kind of plot
A half-hour later he's still going
Poor posterior all rubbed raw
And now he's out of toilet paper
It must be Murphy's Law
He calls 911, says "Help me, please"
What's your emergency, bud
I'm held hostage; I've been seized
by an endless stream of crud
An ambulance, sir, will be there soon
But, operator, that's not the issue
I need at least a month's supply
of Charmin's softest tissue
Operator laughed so hard that she fell over
Wished him good luck, then she cried
If you don't get off that darn pot soon
Your end'll end up rawhide
Well, miracle of miracles, bless the Lord
The crud came to a screeching halt
And when our hero got off the pot
He smiled to himself, as he realized
~ The whole thing's this poet's fault
HIPPOPOTOMONSTROSESQUIPPEDALIOPHOBIA
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia are you having a laugh
The fear of long words that has those who suffer from it aghast
Indiana Shaw . . . *o*
Las Vegas renown Belle E. Danser
Is deathly afraid of breast cancer
She heard a masseur
Developed a cure
Best of all, the man's a free lancer!
Falling in love
can be fast and easy.
Love can seize anyone
in its strangehold.
Unexpectedly
engulf anyone
at first glance.
But declaring
to the object of your affection
that your heart's all in
Immersed body and soul,
head to toe.
That you've fallen
hopelessly in love
with him...or her
now that's the tough part!
Date: 07/19/2019
Never rub salt into the gash,
Making not bad things even worse;
Say sweet inspiring lines instead
That are found in the poet's verse.
Never let difficult status
Turn into harder condition;
Nor allow the painful feeling
To become damaged emotion.
Do not ever accentuate
The negative circumstances;
Neither aggravate the problem,
Nor intensify the cases.
Let not the upset mind and heart
Get more frustrated and angry;
Allow them not to bring the love
To oblivion of harmony.
Never add harm to injury,
Never hurt the wound, cut, or slash;
Never neglect the shattered soul,
Never rub salt into the gash.
When I say that I'm going to kill you, there is no doubt.
You've angered me once too often and I'm going to rub you out.
Three years ago, you stole my valuable coin collection.
You should get a bodyguard because you need protection.
You lied to Social Services when you told them that I'm an unfit dad.
I almost lost my children and you have damn nearly driven me mad.
But the last straw came when you impregnated my teenage daughter.
You've crossed the line and you are a man who I intend to slaughter.
I could have you arrested for statutory rape but I want you to be dead.
You just fell to the floor because I used my shotgun to blow off your head.
(This is a fictional poem. In real life, violence never solves anything. Please never take the law into your own hands.)
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