Not taking the micky
Or being too picky
Appreciate was tricky
But over in a quickie
Reeling still feeling dickie
Travis gave us a hickey
Starc took the bickie
Our batters took a sickie
Snicks to slips & wickie
Tiswas all well a bit icky
No I'm not stumped by a Cricket test
so here's my pitch
which creased me up it's my best
by the contender
who hit one for six the incumbent he
who shall not be named
(begins with 'T')
was bowled over and out
in 2020
of that there is no doubt
for by all scores
and there were plenty
(more than 81 million votes take note)
and what's more
based on his batting average
as a matter of fact
the latter was on a sticky wicket
and as for his later behaviour
no it's just not cricket
**The Wicket-Keeper**
Today, I learned that a lover I once cherished has passed away. Just yesterday, he was alive, and I never imagined I would feel this way about him. It’s strange how I rarely think about the rain unless it floods my drains, my driveway, or my beloved rose garden, or dampens my happy mood. Yet, here I am, grappling with a deep sadness over his death.
The tender moments we shared will always be etched in my memory, even amidst the ups and downs that relationships bring. Our past was filled with challenges, perhaps I was mistaken, or maybe he was right. But tonight, I find myself reflecting on the love we had. He was my old lover, the wicketkeeper, someone I held dear in my heart, now a distant memory that I will always carry with me.
Sticky Wicket
O molasses sticky wicket -
A groaning preached of tips malaise.
In Boston’s North, ever thicket -
O molasses sticky wicket.
Each towny hand, with no picket,
And hellfire now, they could not raise.
O molasses sticky wicket -
A groaning preached of tips malaise.
An engineer they should have used.
Epic deluge - they could not swim.
Tum’ ache of tank, shouldn’t have refused.
An engineer they should have used.
A blobbish beast, to wayward, fused.
The tank was built upon a whim.
An engineer they should have used
Epic deluge - they could not swim.
I have seen plenty of things never been experienced by an alive eye socket.
I have been through the struggle of filling my empty pockets.
Call me a sprocket.
But I have valid questions.
Like, when will our country restore its status as food basket?
When will I have fresh water in the bucket?
When will I have my next brisket?
With the above granted I will very jubilated like a player who has found a wicket.
How I wish I played cricket.
I.
sent home, undeniably
smooth faced & a smile
traveled ten miles
shocking, the electronic stint
reading, reading, reading
the library; it’s closed
bought instant pot; soups
pressuring, ladeled into two
bowls. Lemony cake
with more lemony frosting
because he asked me too;
nothing else to do
stuck, at home;
sticky wicket —
wicked season
II.
curbside return,
a farside cartoon;
grand opening
tables and chairs tied up
like victims; taped up
mouths — wall plates
my smile stuck
inharmoniously;
attack of the mask
Zorro keeps pulling
it up to my eyes;
masquerade mayhem
when the pandemic ends
might save the scraps
for savage weather
III.
no end in sight
illness gaining strength;
anxious to arm wrestle
hide behind barrier
except when i get really close
screening unfathomable
IV.
Twenty twenty five
a good year;
face to face
i let out a sigh of relief;
the mirror
puts me back in my place
11/5/2020
*sticky wicket - metaphor used to describe
a difficult circumstance
A lover I once knew, die today
he was alive yesterday
I never thought of him this way.
I never think about the rain
Unless it flood my drains,
my driveway, my rose garden
Or dampened my happy mood
Why would the death of my lover
Leave me so sad, and blue
Tender moment of affection: edgy days
Relationships have it up and downs
The past have been trouble: maybe I was wrong,
Probably he was right: however here tonight
A lover I once knew passed away today
My old lover the wicket-keeper:
The one I uses to love the most: an distant lover
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