I have to deliberate an idea for about a month he said.
I began to type.
It forms slowly, sometimes in a painful way, he whines.
I am half listening.
Words are pinging onto the page with rapid precision.
I do not understand how anyone can write a worthwhile poem
in less than three weeks, he tells me.
Bam.
Poem number one is finished.
Sometimes I have to edit it nineteen times, he laments.
Whap!
Poem number two is done.
What are you typing? He asks me.
Anything my muse likes, I tell him. I just follow her lead.
Whack! Wham! Whim!
Poems 4, 5 and 6 are happily completed
while he gives me advice on how to write poetry.
Dudley Do Right.
And he did right, but he was banal and dull.
Polly Purebred went for Under Dog
The king of Pow! Bam! Zam! Whap! Whack! Wham!
Smash! Smack! Slap! Hit!
We are told to go for the easy-going sweet ones,
But maybe some of us learned to love the bad boys
when we watched the cartoons of the sixties.
Belle E. Danser tried some ballet
But Double D's got in the way
No one could forget
How her pirouette
Simply floored Maurice Chevalier!
A chatty raccoon in a plaid racing cap
Crashed our party with a lighting zap.
Showed our guests a brand new computer app.
An intelligent creature, quite a lovely chap.
Some partygoers danced on his fluffy lap.
Landing hard on the floor, a hearty whap.
If they annoy you, I said, give ‘em a slap.
This advice caused him to laugh and flap.
He spoke of an enormously keen treasure map.
One of the guests looked and said it was crap.
Another said don’t be a crazy old sap.
A third one began to speak of her disgusting pap.
Chatty raccoon’s head was held on by a strap.
Did not untie it for it was a conspiracy trap.
He began to boogie with a whistle and clap.
Loved this party-going raccoon who never did nap.
It beckons, taunts
"I dare ya!"
Come a little closer
Let me scare ya
Take a peek
you know ya wanna
We won't tell
Scouts honor
WHAP - whipped cream
Right in the kisser
Life's comment tossed
Serpent like "hisser"
She left her marks
But I still miss her
For she had added
Flesh to bone
Put peanut butter
On a scone
So must the muse my
In self defense
Challenge itself
Peek through the fence
John G. Lawless
5/3/2020
I looked down on myself and felt irritated.
I have looked better, less like a hag
This past week I have been wild looking.
My hair makes Einstein’s look tame.
Am I really this hunched over?
My great-grandmother had a humpback
She looked at the floor wherever she went.
I have always been sway-backed but this is worse.
I am flat on my back on a couch
Wearing my zip up zebra pajamas.
It is almost eleven a.m.
I see my eyes roll, making fun of my spirit feelings.
If I had known I was going to see this debauchery
I would have stayed in body, rather than travel to the ceiling
This is my most memorable out-of-body viewing.
I resolve to zip back in and get myself dressed, and viable.
WHAP! I hit my chest with a ridiculously loud smack.
My eyes flip open and I begin breathing double time.
I get up and wander into my bedroom looking for clothes
Five days in zebra pajamas is five days too long.
My future is death
I am old
I am ready
To become part of the fold
Welcome back to the flock
And recycled swiftly
To return to the earth
Where things are a mess
Trying my best to help sort things out
But ecologically we are going to be in dire straits
Ruined the Ozone
The bees are dead
There is no coffee
I get recycled again.
Can I stay this time? I ask the angels.
They laugh and throw me onto a different planet
"You have not learned all the lessons yet," They say.
I am horrified.
This planet is worse.
No water, and no air.
I am swiftly taken back up to heaven.
What kind of life was that? I ask them.
A baby who gets right back? What was the purpose?
"It was not your lesson," they tell me. "It was for others."
Whap. I am back to Earth. Whee!
Winter came early that year
Between colours of the rainbow
snowflakes maneuvered
floated up
whirled down
Frigid winds chilled our smiles
as drifts line the pathway
of fresh footprints
indentations
two by two
You asked me for some warmth
I offered you my mittens
Because my hands
were needed
for snowballs
That is when you began giggling
then kissed me shivering
I closed my eyes
Forgetting
The cold
On your hair snowflakes played
hide and seek, behind us
the undergrowth
surprisingly
split and
Whap, you hit me with a snow ball
when I wasn’t looking
I reached down
with my hand
and scooped
You up, and while holding you tightly
fell in the snow backwards...
Two smiling, overheated
frantically flailing
snow angels
***
October 15, 2017
Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White
Bedazzled
that's how it hits you
all important WHAP SLAP look at that
coloured lights bling
and place your faith in
fixation on yet another political criminal
Bedazzled
shazam
sham or scam
will save you as you walk through
the plagiarized passages of doubt
yep
for sure
there is a way out
and a place to place your faith
in a tangle ball of wool
the felonious cats have played with
Chew yourself on that dry hairy fur ball
Claws of rhetoric
BAM WAP WOW
dazzles sycophantic
tells you every-think you think you want to hear
and put all your trust here, there, everywhere
and chomp on the placebo
of yet another political criminal
Different face
same photo-fit voice
burbling, fur-balling, the same old words
your introduction into their criminal world
KAPOW KABANG
bedazzled
and you're falling for it all over again
the collusive world
destroying the lives of every single human
Chew yourself on that dry hairy fur ball
My cat’s asleep, curled comfy in your lap
while Winter’s howling banshees out the door.
Why would she choose your tummy for her nap?
My cat – asleep, curled comfy in your lap –
is sharing warmth against the blizzard’s rap-
and-whap. She never liked you much before.
My cat’s asleep, curled comfy in your lap
while Winter’s howling banshees out the door.
I went in my room. I locked up the door.
Guess who comes knocking? Mama of course!
Guess what she has? A flat wooden spoon.
She bore down upon me. What happened next?
I'm down on the floor next to copies of checks.
Whap! Wham! The pain doesn't stop.
It's hurting so bad. But I grabbed a mop.
My mama and me, In a stairwell we fight.
She missed on the left. The spoon hit the light.
I swung the mophead 360 around.
Next thing I know, my mama is down.
With a clatter and crash, I feel all around.
My poor fat mama is down on the ground.
I stared at my mop and my own two feet.
What lay next to them made the misery complete.
Down at the right was the flat wooden spoon.
I looked down at mama. I looked down at my doom.
It's my sisters fault, that my mama did die.
And all I did was spit in her eye.
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