Short Travolta Poems

All the best costumes are taken.

So here I am,

dressed up like John Travolta.

Saturday Night Fever,
'cept it's Friday,
and my shoes aren't quite right.

All alone,

in a corner,

on antidepressants,

drinking too much,

and still I can not dance....

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No more disco dancing...no boppin' that's for sure 
I tried to do it late last night ended mangled on the floor 
The legs they went all wobbly, me head it still feels numb 
I've been stuck here since 3 o'clock, in agony on me bum 
I know Travolta did it and boy did he look nifty 
But I should really give it up as I am way past fifty...

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Regrets I have a few today,
time flew by as the month of May,
ambitious thoughts I put off yesterday...

Looking back at my plowed fields I stumbled,
a reaping what I sowed kind of fumble,
out busy staying alive like Travolta,
menial day jobs and doing the hustle,

Barely making it in the work jungle,
still sorting out life's jigsaw puzzle,
shoulda, woulda, coulda my motto,
writing helping me out of my dark tunnel.




2-26-17
75 words...

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