So Instagram is a sham
Everyone seems smitten
With posts about a kitten
Or hosts who hate Britain
Or boasts so badly written
Toasts flam & are all bitten
Goddam is just like spam
Famalam use as a babysitter
Wham bam for any dimwitter
Won’t scram will be a big hitter
Instagram is just glam glitter
Oh please look at me vanity
Narcissist wheeze is insanity
Tease with another profanity
Disease crippling all humanity
Pedants on pews lives fritter
Algorithm queues like twitter
Bottom feeder ruse you critter
Needier travesty tapestry knitter
Greedier fuse lit & now shi*ter
Seedier impropriety just litter
Social media a society splitter
Notoriety trolls scrolls flitter
Anxiety but folks will still titter
Piety for botox you’ll be fitter
Ham it up cash cow AI lie spitter
Kowtow get no views so just bitter
Kapow a scam not some Ashram
Stop cropped photoshopped slop
They cram in a half baked pitta
Instagram is bust and just a sham
diddle-daddle idle chatter
many asked what was the matter?
he ran off to be a batter
running bases in pitter patter
bats he used would often shatter
titter tatter chitter chatter
time wasted said the now rich batter
he’s a big shot, said my cousin Datter
Marsupials breed fitter litters
Marsupials feed titter spitters
Jitters on the venue
Critters on the menu
Marsupial Soup/Bitter Fritters
.
yesss
dark
yourn latch 'to
mine
yourn tuck
'neath mine wing
yourn tuck to thuh
'most
stow away
yourn
taut titter
tough
glisterz
every moon
'gainst your flesh
'gainst
'gainst
'gainst mine
freely
in thuh pitch
and not just at
night
*titter: 1610–20; compare Old Norse
tittra to quiver, Swedish (dial.) tittra to
giggle
Spiffed up in my tux and looking so cool
My, how the ladies do titter and drool
I strut about to entice
Fell on my bum on the ice
Picking myself up, slunk off like a fool
When I hear a titter it always makes me sad for it seems repressed
afraid to show its' voice
A normal quiet laugh is a little better
still unsure of its' reception
But a good ole belly laugh makes my heart rejoice
for it is unabashed to make its' voice be known
One day I hope to join the ranks of the belly laugh
to be unashamed and proud of what I am
For laughter is the song of the soul
At the end of another summer day
Rainbow of deflated asses crotches and breasts strung along our deck railing
Flail like a Tibetan prayer flag
Under the smoky umbrella of burgers and brats
Grilling for dinner
Souls adrift from their left behind soaked skin
The sleeves and pantlegs re-begin
Arms and legs jog in place
In the cool lungs of a dry evening breeze
Moon sheen of shoulders and knees
Minutes before dawn
Creased pressed and ready for a new day
They kick and whisper rearrange themselves by order
A titter of
Generations past present and future
Here the people come!
Grandpa and grandma moms and dads sisters brothers
An army of kids teenagers to toddlers
Hurray! One by one
Like rays sprung from the sun
Once again
Off
The dried suits are plucked
Hot bodies slip back into place
Here we go
Body and soul
Made whole for another summer day
Of swimming.
Titter Tatter Pitter Patter Happy Halloween Hal
Got his own jack-o-lantern thanks to a good pal.
What is that? Asked Sassy Sue, his current gal.
She made fun of the jack-o-lantern and his pal Hal.
Titter Tatter Pitter Patter Happy Halloween Hal
Dumped her that very day, and found a more positive gal.
faerie fauna sat on her house staring over a hill.
Her company had not arrived, her cousin named Bill.
Where is he? Asked a pink rose. Her voice was shrill.
This shocked faerie fauna, and her caterpillar, Will.
Other flowers began to titter as they watched over the hill.
You are so late Faerie Fauna thought. Where are you Bill?
Her apple pie was cooling fast on the window sill.
He is not coming! Announced the rose, persnickety still.
Young Red was searching Wolf Forest, but got lost
She felt someone staring at her with blue eyes of frost.
It was a weird bird whose feathers were amazingly pink.
There are two of us, said his brother, a wren name of Wink.
He is Fink, I am Wink, and we guard this forest from human beings.
a rooster-like creature made Red wonder what she was seeing.
this cannot be Wolf Forest, she said, completely turned around.
The birds began to titter and trill, one promptly fell upside down.
We are guardians of Fowl Forest, you are completely mad, Wink said.
Fink gave his brother a swift feathery high five, then yelled out for Ned.
Ned was the weird goofy bird with the striped socks, she found out.
They chased her away, across a field, leaving her at a round-about.
"Short Night of the Dark Christmas"
short night of the dark Christmas
means home alone, for some,
but heck get real,
no one
is truly alone, never,
even when reality conspires
to suggest
otherwise,
close your eyes
open your mind
one sits with the other
invisible
permanent, immovable
the mind mulled again
the externals fixated
titter on
your mind is closed
to their superfluous noise
yet in touch, aware
of higher things
not alone,
no never
alone
inside
one has to always,
give -
happy birthday
dark Christmas
shining star,
removed.
aware
of higher things
(LadyLabyrinth/2023)
24.12.23
at Christmas, 2023
“One day, you are going to hug your last hug,
kiss your last kiss and hear someone’s voice
for the last time.
But you never know when the last time will be,
so live every day as if it were the last time
you will be with the person you love.”
“This Christmas,
we don’t need more stuff.
We need more LOVE
towards one another.”
Clowns are usually funny
But one clown that I know
Couldn't even get a titter
Out of the audience so
Feeling very disappointed and
About to call it quits
He went to walk off the stage
And he did the splits
When he tried to get up
From the floor to strike a better pose
He bumped into the wall
Which knocked off his big red nose
He started looking for his nose
His nose he could not find
Meanwhile he dropped his glasses
And without them he was blind
He was in a dreadful state
Nothing was quite clear
That is when a circus flea
Bit him in the ear
A monkey saw the clown,
Performing on the stage
And this agitated the monkey
And put him into a rage
So this naughty monkey
Was ready for a race
And after the clown
This primate gave chase
Round and round the ring they went
You may find this hard to believe
A rat came out from nowhere
And ran up the clown's sleeve
By this time, the audience
Were exhausted in their seats
From yelling, shouting, laughing
And appreciated the treats
The clown had given them
When he thought he had no hopes
Tonight had taught him a lesson
All the best clowns are dopes
Previously posted on PS
While Doris was swimming along came a pup.
Hi! Said the pup, want to be my friend straight up?
Doris was wasted, so she toasted him with her cup.
He was not savvy about liquor, so he took a sup.
Oh my! Said the pup, your water is horribly bitter.
Thinking it hilarious, she shared with a titter.
Watch out! Said a friend; there could be nine more in the litter.
She ended up taking the puppy home, and had to pay a dog sitter.
Its wet and drear in London dear, the pomp in on full trope
Though hope is gone, not dead for Jesus is the only hope!
Its foolish to trust in others; dopes.' In robes and words
In fear and force, its hackneyed ethos, solid dross of course
One hundred mill, so bums can sit.' and ears listen to
Waffle and some titter, and scraps and traps such slippery
Tounges we'll no doubt hear, yet will we sum? A throne of
Gold in a nation sold, to the w e f, just same old same old.'
The crowds are thin, not much the din' dis-enchantment is
Setting in.' geriatrics in phylactics gather and throng how
Can such traversitys continue on? Food in piles is stored
Away, as childen are hungered, its the British way.' Some
Vassels also, it seems agree although; their people need
To be set free.! Free to thrive to grow and prosper, yet to no
Reason i now return, to the parody of vanitys and a useless
Crown ' thats just the head though, i'll make this clear on
A British day of pomp and drear, might he take a little trip?
Before the throne..As ascends he it.' Twould be indicative of
The wider nation, that needs a real King not this Abberation.'
Mrs. Burrowfeathers felt the faerie’s presence before she did arrive.
she must have been studying her from the trees yonder, total of five.
she watched her fly just tiptoe level above the tall verdent grasses.
she was one of the pointed eared faeries who never needed glasses.
dainty sneaky faerie of the spring meadow with wings of sunshine yellow
headed straight for the top eared floppy chubby fluffy brown fellow.
she had heard of kangaroos, but she thought they would be much bigger.
when she told Mrs. Burrowfeathers this, she roared with giggling s.
I am truly not a kangaroo, I am a bunny, she told the novice faerie.
That made the faerie dance and titter, she was a creature merry.
swaying in time on the morning wind, violets joined in on the fun.
April was loving this sweet day and the Vitamin D of the sun.
the buttercups sprinkled amid the purple clover chuckled a bit too.
spreading some much needed sprinkles of water from their morning dew.
it was a super fine way to start a day in the meadow, one full of joy!
also a great day for Mrs. Burrowfeathers to have her baby boy!
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