Black ice beneath fresh snow.
To the shop I must go.
I slither here and there
And now I really fear.
What if then I should slip
Land on sciatic hip?
But I shall persevere
For I’ve run out of beer
So to the shop I go.
Black ice beneath fresh snow.
a robin chirping near the window
serves up a delicious bit of melancholy
on the living room floor an air mattress
quietly cajoles my sciatic nerve
this place, this home, this abode the result
of a thirty year 'bout with the devil
at an old card table that might not survive
a battered folding chair my unlikely throne
Bailey’s Irish Crème in a hot cup of Joe
scrambled muse on the side for breakfast
Santa’s elves do love a Christmas sing-a-long,
you can bet Santa’s will never go wrong.
There’s cookies, cakes, pies, punch and hot cocoa
with cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger spice, you know.
When playing the organ Mrs. Claus is a whizz;
really, she should be in show biz.
Billy Bob passes out the music sheets,
while Mitzy and Millie bring out the eats.
Lil’Jim sits propped on his old oak cane,
the poor fella has some sciatic pain.
He shares his music book with Jake and Phil,
though young Jake’s voice is a tad bit shrill.
Skippy-Sam is a great baritone,
Grampy Gabbs needs to wear earphones.
The tinier elves sing in funny voices,
everyone laughs and rejoices.
Tiger Tooney the cat’s voice is a bit flat;
probably because he’s half bobcat.
As usual McNafferty wields his hand-carved baton,
for he truly loves directing a sing-a-long.
Now this can go on for hours and hours,
days or nights, that’s Santa’s power.
Through the winter should you hear faint singing,
it’s the Claus’s and their elves voices ringing.
I am longing for the spring and panting like a thirsty deer
too many days have past since I last felt the sun
beneath anemic skies my body shivers in the clear
I have not become immune to the cold that winter spun
so angling for heat I turn my collar to the wind and shun
the whipped willow tree with her gentle arching ways
her generous weeping branches frozen in mid air
a healthy thrill of scissor skates, a Christmas winter maze
perhaps I used to once but now, I got no Bartlett pears
and my sciatic pain has grown beyond compare
Craving for a slice of heat or a warm wet pool of water
I hanker like a hungry squirrel looking for a nut
hibernate of night nocturnally tucked away diurnal as the otter
perhaps I'm just an old woman falling in a rut
wearing double swim suits while being pegged a hoarder
I'm longing for the blossoms of yesterday's sweet garden
for the roses my father grew inside the lattice square
back in the days when I used to wear Elizabeth Arden
my braids were long and brown instead of barely there
wish it were spring instead of winter, wish I could eat a pear.
Feb 12, 2022
Satan wants my leg
The right one
He's been trying
for years
First when as a child
in Gonja Hospital
Butt injection smack
in sciatic nerve
The pain - oh my god
flexed my knee
Dr. Lubia with a board
straightened it
Then an excited preteen
on class excursion
Tomato plant in Pwalugu
leg in drain gutter
The osteo that mom treated
with prayers & tears
Anyamu the medicine man
with boiling herbs
Today the herniated disc
pain - oh my god
The drop foot and more
L4-L5 L3-L4
Satan wants my right leg
he wont get it
Try as hard as he can
I'll still keep it
The wife had a problem with me,
h o t m e s s to the hundredth degree,
thinks she can do better,
I’ll go out and let her!
Not my fault I cleared the pantry!
I ended up on the darn couch,
pinched nerve in my back from the slouch,
I need chiropractic,
for my darn sciatic,
then the whole next week I’m a grouch!
She came in crying one evening,
I thought, “YAY! Maybe she’s leaving!”
but she just broke a nail,
now I’m still stuck in jail,
I think she was just deceiving.
I wonder if we got divorced,
would she even show sweet remorse?
I would probably smile,
maybe I should go file?
“WHAT hun? Be home by nine??? Of course…” :(
I think I know just what I’ll do,
go in and tell her we are through!
I’ll take the couch with me,
it’s just so darn comfy,
"yay! Then I wouldn’t have a curfew!"
Just Make Me Laugh Contest
Sponsor: Christine Lehman
Date Written: August 27, 2016
The wrath of God doesn’t have to be
the size of a hurricane
nor a major flood or forest fire
to leave us all in pain.
It can be an itch or an annoying twitch
a big black hair on your nose
painfully shy or one crossed eye
it’s terrible to have one of those.
Ugly or clumsy or not very smart
we all have our cross to bear
mismatch your socks get chicken pox
or forget your underwear.
Cowlicks birthmarks and knobby knees
all conspire to bring us down,
crooked teeth big ears and zits
are here to make us frown.
With a squeaky voice you don’t rejoice
and bad breath is problematic
as is hobbling on a cane
when you have a sore sciatic.
Oh Dear Lord just look at me!
a melting pot of woes!
As a kid I made a face
and wouldn’t you know…it froze!
What will we do with these gifts from you
bestowed on us in your wrath?
As we complain down here in our shame
do you sit on a cloud and laugh?
But then God said as he shook his head;
“My child I love you so..
these minor things that set you apart
are here to help you grow.”