Short Frittered Poems

Outside my window, hark! a tweet
   Alarm clock opens, a whirring twitter

These words' meanings, we depleted
   Their message, away we frittered...

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Frittered chick peas with a pucker, 
I’ll have seconds it’s no bother; 
Devoured like a boss; 
Rice or with yogurt sauce, 
just call me a falafel sucker....

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self-esteem
      unfolds,
pillars
     crumble
       ..unseen-
shattered..
           desire
           frittered away
in self-pity..
         leaked 
         into life's abyss
of
tears...

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My psychiatrist told me “All things considered...
You're as good as can be expected, given that you're skittered!”
Said, “What the hell does that mean?”
Answered, “Your brain's a bit lean!”
May have to have a lobotomy... brain's all frittered...

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Memories wept
thru words we felt
as they teetered 
on the ledge,
silence held
hands entwined
sensing morrow 
of frittered edge

Lot had denied
an ageless vow,
as once, 
each vowed the same,
with echoing word,
solemnly heard,
'Our Promise 
Will Ne'er Wane'...

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I turned my left eye over to blink
my gaze took me right to the brink
I couldn't speak,  blinded
something concealed deep inside it
really has tried to hide it
C'mon now, help me find it
can't recall or even remind it
so chalk it down as one of those, oh nevermind's of it!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull...

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Folks must be happy in Guatemala

   With tax money frittered by Kamala

      Will she visit the border
 
         To 'stablish peace and order

             Or is she just Joe's otiose* wallah**

(*Serving no useful purpose)
(**A person in charge or employed for a particular purpose)...

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Sue Ellen a wastethrift who frittered her parents’ money
Married off to Chuck, an old goat in need of a honey
Devious Chuck thought he would be rich when her parents died.
They lived to be a hundred, a long well-lived, happy ride.
Sue Ellen never changed, she spent Chuck’s money too.
They ended up in a studio apartment outside Waterloo....

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Learn to count your life,
Age creeps up on us year by year,
Months slip away without so much as a tear,
Weeks weep silently as they are continually ignored,
Days left by the wayside like unwanted chores.

Is this your life? Do you value it so meanly?
This is your time, it is your turn, treasure it keenly,
Tally the hours of each and every precious day,
Reckon up and calculate what has been frittered away.

Learn to count your life....

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The lowly turnip
Earthy, fleshy
Roots falling from its eyes
Fed to  livestock
One of God’s root crops
Yet deemed  untasty
By most palates 

Carrots and potatoes
Receive accolades
Carrots in orange party dress
So crunchy and sweet 
Fit in the school child’s lunch box
Potatoes in russet  brown
Mashed, fried and frittered
Prized alongside McDonalds and Kentucky Fried

Do not despair, my friend, 
Not all root crops
Are valued similarly
Said the rutabaga disparagingly...

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To civil manners she said "Good Night!"
If with garbage her plot was littered:
To the filthy, she gave a good fight
Like one by great losses embittered;
For unkempt spots her rage at its height,
As though one had her fought wealth frittered...

You, please, do not visit her website:
A long face with long snakes that slithered.
Georgina could simply rave self white 
And the touched onlooker leave withered...

Any wonder her two plots once bright
Georgina, for days, often tittered....

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