Short Overstuffed Poems

A taxidermist, here doth lie ~
He stuffed himself with too much pie!


15.11.20

Du-O Your Two Line Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand...

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He called himself Homer the house cat
And mostly ate tuna with pork fat
After lunch he'd meow
'Nearly upchuck his chow!
And grin like an overstuffed wombat!...

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Sloth

Languid apathy - idle gifts
Hollow perfume of impotence
Hoards overstuffed bags of blessings 
Walks by fallen stars - indolence

7-7-22
Contest: The Sin of Sloth
Sponsor; Margaret Lillico...

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Obsessed? Who me? At the sight of bare boobs?
Can take 'em or leave 'em but I'm usually in the mood
But an overstuffed bra
Should be banned by law
Disappointment we feel as she stands there in the nude


© Jack Ellison 2015...

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  Thanks be given to many things,
  To celebrate the cooked bird within.
  Humbly beseeching the deserts that be,
  Too much for my overstuffed tummy,
  Oh, jess!
  Leftovers for a week!
  What a treat.
  No guess,
  What next I will eat!...

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Where is Selma? I asked her mother.
You won’t believe me.
I might.

Reading in her nest.
I thought her mom meant her bed.
But her bed was empty.

Her mom led me to the den.
Selma was sprawled out, reading her I-pad.
Her body was lounging on top of pillows shaped like eggs
They were reposing on an overstuffed nest.

I thought I was spoiled! I said.
Selma laughed....

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My ex is like...
		a troll:

	a short one, ugly and hairy but muscular.

My ex is like...
		an overstuffed gnome, 
	like a Santa’s elf with a bristling beard, but
		never a smile.

My ex is like...
		Jabba the Hut:
	gross, ill-mannered, greedy, selfish,
	gobbling up whatever suits him.

My ex is gone. And my relief is like sunshine and
	an open window after a heavy rain....

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Lady of Darkness

She sat in the dark in an overstuffed chair
Though the stuff in the seat was no longer there
A bottle of vodka and a bottle of rum
A chair in the darkness was her rule of thumb
As the shadows grew darker, the bottles grew lighter
As she tried to lighten the darkness inside her
Till only the chair and the bottles remain
With the lady of darkness no longer in pain...

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Bits of rubber, tape, and glue,
A bed that once looked very new.
Overstuffed shelves covered in dust,
Tables and chairs, creaky with rust. 
Crumpled papers, an overturned lamp,
My dirty old covers, sweaty and damp. 
Cardboard and glitter and paint and wire,
Several pieces of my dad's flat tire.
Banana peels, an apple core,
A half-eaten pizza on the floor.
A grilled cheese sandwich, moldy and green,
Maybe sometime I'll start to clean......

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I thought I was too old to have a crush
My body is overstuffed with lust
It's giving me a rush 
So I kissed you once it's not enough
I yearn for a forbidden luv..just my luck
Some may look at you in disgust
I dream in your eyes I'm stuck 
One's trash is another's treasure
I imagine a night of passion and pleasure
I just can't and that makes me want it more
So much my kitty is throbbing and sore
I fantasize of you knocking at my door
Only If I was a home-wrecking whore...

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An owl is calling from a hollow tree,
It speaks holy and hollow,
hollow and holy.
 
The speech of sprit
is any shell that can hold
the breath of a ghost.

The owl stops hooting
as if listening,
I know what it’s hearing,
I want to hear what it hears
but the holiness of the hollow
is beyond my overstuffed-ness.
 
Only those empty spaces in my lungs
can  both speak and listen.
More often though
words arrive too late
to translate the holy,
only the hollow....

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