Lonely elf not 5’4, horny toad toon
Hits on maties wives in pubs and saloons
a smidge taller than Manson
yet not quite as handsome
His gal pal elves nudge him to G-E-T -A -R-O-O-M!
When Mrs. Autumn said good-bye, and Mr. Winter came to say hello
He brought with him a great surprise- two feet of heavy snow
I shoveled my walk, my drive, and porch and spread some salt to melt
That's when I noticed on my lower-back there was something there I felt
I know you think I've pulled a muscle and I'm feeling lots of pain
But I feel fine, in fact, I'm feeling good... all thanks to Mary Jane
With a glass of apple cider and a splash of honeyed rum
No longer will I feel my pain, but I will feel a little numb
Now walking like a hunchback- like the one from Notre Dame
I had to take some Percocet to keep me feeling calm
I've never drank or did drugs before- well, maybe just a smidge
But that was way back in the day, when I built the Brooklyn bridge
Just give me a smidge
A speck
A tiny little bit ...
All I'm asking for is some sign
Some chance
Some hope ...
That even just a small piece
Will save us
From ourselves.
DINNER’S A CHORE
Dinner, my turn, nothing in the fridge
Off to market, be gone a smidge
Car won’t start, battery’s dead
Jump it, full steam ahead
Old gossips in the aisle, won’t move aside
‘Scuse me’ I croon, but they get snide
Right back I get crass
Suggest they kiss my ass
Grace once took me by the throat
And squeezed until I gave up Pride,
But Pride remained still unprovoked
As will began to slowly die
So faith stepped up and begged for hope
But hope preferred unstable waters,
Which brought despair on noose and rope
And silenced all I had that mattered
Yet faith prevailed, though by a smidge
As small and simple took the win,
For little triumphs made me rich
And progress I did find therein
“This is a familiar route and one of the most common ones (at least to my seasoned eyes; you may find it beautiful)” — overheard.
______
A day like any other,
but also
a day like no other—
She’s losing the threads again.
No—she’s finally starting to see.
—A day like any other.
The bus hustled over
cracked cement in damp air—
a sight scorched
to the back of my skull.
I sat in my window seat
like it’s a
reflex—
a voice nudges me in the ribs
break something— it said
—anything,
just stopping sitting here.
I switched sides
before my brain can question
if it makes sense.
I let my eyes drink out
the other window—
A smidge of red—a balloon.
Something navy—a child’s backpack.
A birdless branch wobbles—
My gaze drifts up,
the sun reply with dazzles—
For a second,
everything rhymed.
A tumble of flowers and soon you look amazing dear hair
with just a smidge of lovely perfume you can scent the air
A little beret on the side and suddenly you look magnificent
when I gather you in a ponytail, you make me look innocent
If I braid you into two elegant tresses, I feel quite content
yes you get coiffed at fancy salon for I am worth every cent
If I flip you, " secret strategy of course" then he will be mine
each time I fix you up like Sunday best, you turn out Divine !
I love you hair, because you make me feel sexy and feminine
when I curl you it means I'm going out and you look just fine
You are the best part of my head and the most cared for too,
the day I was born I didn't have much of you, but today I do.
I don't see anything on cable,
so I sit down at the table -
another night alone I think.
I guess I'll have another drink.
What? The doorbell rings, and there
some ghostly figures then declare,
"we're your regrets to haunt, alright?",
as more and more, they came all night.
"Make yourselves some highballs
and drink them to your eyeballs
(even ol' Ebenezer Scrooge
lacked an entourage this huge.)
It's crowded here. Move just a smidge.
You'll find the drinks are in the fridge.
I'd love to sit and talk, but instead.
you settle in. I'm going to bed."
(Number 5)
Smiles rise over the ridge.
Courts creek, a childhood dream.
Commonsense, not even a smidge.
Barefoot on boulders, eyes agleam.
Staggering sight of matchstick bridge.
I've written about chickens with big fat legs
Told of eating my way through the fridge
My psychiatrist says I'm really quite normal
Though I feel unbalanced, a smidge
I've heard of a place, can't remember where
They can treat an affliction like mine
Problem is though, it means a lobotomy
Sends a quake up and down my spine
Don't wanna be mumbling naughty verses
As I wander the streets in my socks
Or talking about inappropriate subjects
Like armpits, halitosis or snots
One reviewer said I was absolute bonkers
But still sings along with my songs
Seems like she might have the same affliction
Methinks both of our mind's long gone
The bottom line to all this nonsense is
Not much can be done so I'm stuck
Wearing this crown of a silly old jester
And quacking all day like a duck
soon to bid
another farewell, yet,
you've already unearthed
a smidge of sad longing
buried too deep within
to excavate.
as our sizeable distance
kept stretching apart like a rubberband,
first came
your reassuring smile
when you
turned your head
to look at me one last time,
and with that smile -
before slipping out of sight -
a careful aim
directly at the center
of my heart;
just one wink.
ah, so you knew it was
precisely what I needed?
it's torturous
watching you depart;
with a piece of heaven
to cling to...
gently,
gently,
ever so gently,
you pull me back from
the precipice of melancholy.
I may be 5 foot 9 but by the time
I have to reach over my middle tire
A skinny person of let’s say 5 feet
might reach things a couple inches higher
Those tricky top shelves are strictly for things
I know that I’m never going to need
Like huckleberry jam, rice vinegar,
brown paper lunch bags and caraway seed
When searching through the kitchen cabinets
I find that I’m too short by just a smidge
So I have no idea what’s hiding in
that little cabinet over the fridge
I thought of you alot today
While sitting near the bridge
I wonder, did your ears ring?
Even just a smidge?
Well all I know is if they did
They must have rang alot
You were on my mind so much
More often than were not
I pretended you were with me
Even spoke to you out loud
But then I changed from heart to heart
When sat down a small crowd
I played and people listened
But that meant not too much
Since you're the only one I saw
My mind's eye on you touched
No matter where I am
No matter what I do
When I start to miss you
I just look at my tattoo
It's a poor man's substitution
For a lady rich and fine
But I have to take what I can get
I do so for you pine
Here at Mother Goose’s party
Jack and Jill have just arrived.
Small Bo Peep and Jack be Nimble
Came to greet them and high-fived
While Miss Muffet, busy eating,
Found a spider in her whey.
Even though ‘twas itsy-bitsy,
Humpty Dumpty saved the day.
Georgie Porgie went in search of
Little Jack among the sheep.
He was eating Christmas pie right near
Boy Blue, who was asleep.
As the cat was entertaining
With his fiddle ‘neath the moon,
Some big cow jumped over, looking
For a missing dish and spoon.
There were hot cross buns a’plenty
Selling down by London Bridge.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
Hoped to taste one – just a smidge.
Old King Cole made an appearance,
Peter Piper by his side.
Three blind mice played pat-a-cake
While Tommy Tucker ran to hide.
It was quite a festive evening
'Til the striking of the clock,
All to honor Mother Goose
And all the members of her flock.
*Today is officially Mother Goose Day
I wonder where this rhyme will go,
a random walk among the words.
I’d contemplate, but here’s the thing:
spontaneous is better, though.
To plan it out is for the birds;
unhitch the mind and let it sing.
I do suppose if I thought more,
it would be worth the time incurred,
and masterpieces would unfold,
but sometimes that feels like a chore,
so I just keep the yogurt stirred,
and skim off any spots of mold.
Now that’s a bit unusual;
it’s likely now you are confused,
and think I missed the mark a smidge.
No, I am not delusional;
I just lean on a deranged muse.
To write a poem, clean your fridge.
----------
A Sestet, with stanzas of 8a:8b:8c:8a:8b:8c
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