Short Hawing Poems

rising and falling
hemming and hawing

fifty-two pickup
jokers included...

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Who cares if the road winds or wends
so long as I step with my friends?
Quit hawing and hemming!
We are not the lemmings
who blindly fall off to their ends....

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During Sermon No One Seemed Inspired

During sermon no one seemed inspired,
Were almost sleeping while being tired;
Hemming and hawing;
Pawing and clawing,
And up congregation finally was fired.

Jim Horn...

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Scratching the ground
And pecking around,
Chewing on cud,
Wallowing in mud,
Sheering the lawn
And crowing at dawn,
Running for sticks,
Grooming with licks,
Prancing for show
And hee-hawing no,
Chewing on tin,
Both women and men
Are like barnyard animals....

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She eats her lunch while precariously balancing herself on a line
None of us clearly know why, but she tells us it keeps her feeling fine.
Several ebony crows come by cawing, hemming, tooting and hawing.
But does she fall off? Not ever, she’s a professional, Witch G. Bawing....

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I’d rather that my message was encapsulated in poetry
Instead of the hemming and hawing of the world
Seems a curse held under the breath, malodorous 
You know what they’re thinking, as if they were pure
But the cauldron is bubbling with maleficent baubles
Just waiting to spit in your eye, which was dry…

10/29/2020...

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As a new day breaks
and the robin wakes
my eyes are hazy
my mind is lazy
I ponder the point.
Again.
Again.
Stretching and yawning.
Hemming and hawing.
I ponder the point.
To love?
To learn?
To give?
To take?
Again.
Again.
So mundane.
Is there more?
A secret door?
Grasping vaseline knobs.
Quiet sobs.
Again.
Again.....

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