Inexperienced tourist from Kalamazoo
Yelled hey, mommy, there’s a small kangaroo!
I am not a kangaroo, I am a wallaby, you crazy kid
My tail is pointed and I can do a summersault and a skid
My name is Digby, feel free to wear it out
When people use my name, I do not care, worry or pout
I am from an island whose name you do not know I bet.
Please do not try to capture me, I am not a good kind of pet.
The polka dotted monkey had a banana in each hand.
He did a flip, a summersault and a giant handstand.
We noticed his colorful bib then that said “Be you”.
He was our favorite part of the circus said Mr. Magoo.
The kitty is on the throne! The kitty is on the throne!
Rye Roe the Rarely Roll! The kitty is on the throne!
I know he is having trouble saying his P’s, so I ask him.
The phone or the throne? He is two, his name is Jim.
The throne! The throne! And he is reading the news too!
The throne! The throne! And his grunts are turning blue!
This is all new to me, but I am a new grandma, a new sitter.
I open the bathroom door and see a reading cat using the litter.
The kitty is on the throne! The kitty is on the throne!
Rye Roe the Rarely Roll! The kitty is on the throne!
Jim grins and nods and does a summersault, happy now.
The cat is excited too, purring with happiness, giving us a big meow.
Floating on sea of sunflowers,
Trembling in the summersault breeze.
Each sun of seeds uplifts my smile.
Each blooming orb, sets me at ease.
Trembling in the summersault breeze,
Vainglorious with giant stems,
Each blooming orb, sets me at ease -
The peace of God in brilliant gems.
Vainglorious with giant stems,
The peak of xanthous petal-waves,
The peace of God in brilliant gems.
His glory-light brightens my eyes.
The peak of xanthous petal-waves,
Each sun of seeds uplifts my smile.
His glory-light brightens my eyes.
Floating on sea of sunflowers.
8/17/2022
Pantoum with gentle rhyming
I need no dog, the arrogant, annoying flea biter said.
He promptly did a summersault on his sweet head.
Well don’t look at me, said the old man flea Lee.
I am biting flesh right now, but no dog I see.
The dog gave a yelp and scratched a hole in his back.
But he was not as quick as the flea known as Yak.
Yak jumped out of the way, for he was a jumping flea.
Haha! Yak yelled with a shout. No creature got me!
Let’s go for the cat, the flea biter suggested.
They don’t taste very appealing said Sue, who had nested.
I think this is a giant, maybe a mollusk, or a squid.
It cannot be a dog; he died. His name was Kid.
I saw him standing on the limb and I wondered about his sanity.
The last time I had seen Green Bat Clock Man was on my vanity.
I’ll jump! He yelled to the crowd of robins gathered around to stare.
I watched him do an entirely crazy summersault high jump in the air.
He’s chained! Ted yelled; He’ll break his neck; fall in the inner cove!
The chain unraveled as if by magic as the Green Bat Clock man dove.
He’s a wizard one screamed as he landed on his well-endowed feet.
He’s a mystical clock, yelled my cousin Jeb, love child of Uncle Pete.
Green Bat Clock Man flew up to the limb and did it again and again.
What do you think of him? I asked my not-easy-to-please identical twin.
She sniffed. I think he’s still a show off, and not to my taste at all.
She was still angry that he had left her broken hearted in the fall.
Scuttlebutt ran in and bit me.
Harder than a mosquito bites.
I yelled ouch!
Scuttlebutt did a summersault
into my reptilian brain.
She is easy to antagonize.
Scuttlebutt chuckled
So I pulled out my big gun.
Ignore.
There are a bunch of silly billies
They do cartwheels on my fingernails
I am astounded; wondering how they know
I am not persnickety or in a bad mood.
Come on! I say to the silly billies
As they summersault over my arms
landing on my shoulders
after a triple flip.
My husband asks what I am doing.
The silly billies put their fingers to their lips
Sh! They warn me.
Everyone is not ready to see or hear silly billies
Nothing I lie.
Hey! Are those my geebie weebies? He says.
We were partnered by God for a reason....
Where did you see her? The North Wind asked the south.
The south wind was not forthcoming, for she trusted him not.
Seriously, I have never seen the leaf elf, the North Wind said.
He was not about to see her either, she was not easily sought.
The Leaf Fairy Queen was at his feet, hiding in a pile of leaves.
She giggled a tiny bit, for she got tickled and forgot….
She was not supposed to give her away her identity, said Jeeves.
He was her prissy butler, and caretaker, but a father he was not.
The South Wind bristled up when she heard the tiny fairy giggle.
Luckily North Wind was busy chasing a flighty jack-a-daw.
Leaf Fairy Queen could not resist a summersault and a wiggle.
North Wind saw her and winked, to let her know he saw.
protuberance hot
the sting of summersault sun
beet red swarm of bees
NA re-run Poetry Contest
Sponsor - John Hamilton
6/18/2019
howmanysyllables.com 5/7/5
Tania Kitchin’s Poetry Contest - Birds or Bees Haiku
*summersault is an alternate spelling
If I was part machine, a steampunk woman, or a steampunk dog, or a steampunk cat,
I would choose to have a machine heart, so I could be less soft.
So my feelings would not get hurt so easily, so I could
Stop crying inside when people get mean and mad,
Or a tsunami kills a bunch of innocents.
I would also choose machine eyes – big round soft brown ones,
Because of the floaties I have in my older green and hazel eyes.
Floaties could not get into steampunk eyes, right?
I would choose bendable, new steampunk machine knees.
They would jump and summersault and do cartwheels and
Other stuff I can no longer do after tearing my ACL and
Meniscus which never got fixed, because it happened
At work and Workman’s Comp told me at my age,
Surgery would not be smart.
They would call me Steampunk Annie, and I would
Run up and down alleys, saving people from the robbers,
And the drug pushers, and I would kick the drug pushers
In their petootsies and make them cry
Because they would not have steampunk eyes
Or anything. I would rock the Steampunk
World with sass and vim, and be
The super hero I know I can be!
Philae
oh rocky outcrop met
a place to rest my weary gear
a slow flyby, a spot to try
and allay the lonely fears
older now and some weight shed
a bit of mass for wizened
a bounce, summersault, a slight tumult
now lying on my side and
post out now a Polaroid
pointing toward dark space
anthropomorphized
a place in history,
regarding likelihood
to ever leave this place
photons! give a bit more life but
no matter now, that place assured
to tell the sunny tail and
rest content to orbit old Sol
let earthlings watch me sail
on solar winds to round around
and back to dark reaches fly
obscurity has its place away in
anonymity from future's generations
on blue-green globe of peopled race
but for now - I'm the guy
and this is A Grand Day Out*
© goodguysoul 2014-11-13
* http://www.wallaceandgromit.com/films/granddayout/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philae_(spacecraft)
it's illegal now to be a kid
no matter what, once, was did
no longer allowed, they now forbid
put a sock in it, slam down the lid
there was a time, that many know
when it wasn't so
and kids romped wildly, to and fro
from yard to wood to overflow
across the day, squealing joy
the privilege of the hoi polloi
no silvered girls or golden boys
everyone was the real McCoy
and played innocent because they were
devious played plans did not occur
because life was all a sharpened blur
of play day friends in all grandeur
now, many lament of days gone by
when innocence was a feast whereby
kids grew flying clear-blue sky
to adults who can't see eye to eye
in fact those times - they still are
no adieu uttered - no au revoir
no quench of light from brightened star
childhood's about being a kid, so far
so kids are kids the whole world over
L.A. to Bahrain to country farms all over
they can see a day, fresh with sweet clover
to roll in, an' play on, an' lose their composure
kids don't have to remember that life's fun
they naturally want to summersault and run
it's been that way since time had begun
and will always be, 'til all time, is all done
© Goode Guy 2013-04-15
stretching taut in summersault
bending over the back bends
the ends of the middle
at the middle of the end
blinded blinders - the two-timers
left just right the hill climbers
seen clear as a piece of glass
left to see right through that other class
intransigence moving the new political
compromise defined as weakly criminal
preferable to know right than accommodate
cooperation too disturbing to contemplate
craning neck to the horizons see
what party line can fit master key
the middle way ain't between extremes
so via media ain't what it seems
life's water is wide, and cold, and deep
no matter to struggle to top o' the heap
when a house is divided, and so sits down
its arms folded across, to sink and drown
when given a choice between happy and right
can we choose cleanly between delight and ignite
tradeoff's made, are never completely the cure
but allowed to progress, our house can endure
© Goode Guy 2013-03-05
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Via_media
through the window i peered
intricate layers of lace
painted by old man winter
obscured my view of any visible signs
the snow outside was deep
but the emotions inside ran deeper
i remember waking Christmas morn
empty plate and cup littered the sink
fancy gifts. delicately placed
beneath the now silent tree
giggles of children covered the sounds
of ripping paper being scattered about
beneath the layers of red, green, gold,
topped with only a bow, i recall that doll
trying to summersault her way over to me
(better than i ever could) little “tumbelina”
the only gift i wished for, the only thing
that seemed to matter that Christmas day
to a child who still believed in the magic
of santa, his reindeer and sleigh
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