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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Comedy · #1483471
Some over-the-counter meds: read two poems every four hours until you're regular again.
HORSE

his writing hints at genetic mischief -
looks like horse, reads like carousel

it lolls in sophomoric meadows
grazing hippie-dippie slapstick crap
and brain bloaters leave a trail of exhaust
as it gallops through great classics

people stare -
they park by the road and gawk with binoculars

children beg -
their parents warn, “he’s got that look…”

fogies crunch their stogies down -
they squint to size him up
then shake their wrinkles out
“don’t bet on that pony,” they say

it’s strange how his work looks different to everyone;
when mosquitoes fly by they stop and have lunch




THE FINAL STRAW

remember Flipper?
well, you’re no Flipper!
hell, you can’t even swim!

she pried his trembling finger away
that’s it for me, she whispered




SPECIAL

i’ve thought about it and
i don’t want to be your accident,
the one you gnaw on
like a bite sample
at the grocery
and nod in agreement over
while you think about which aisle
the candy is in




AD INFINITUM, ABSOLUTE!  (- mathematician memories)

I was seventeen just prior that eighteenth year -
spring was in the air and Gert was feeling frisky.
At one forty-eight, just three minutes into seventh period,
she turned and flashed me a glimpse
of a strangely inscribed angle within her Apollonian Circle.
And here’s the thing - PM and PN were by no means perpendicular!
Therefore, the resulting angle fell short of ninety degrees
which made it impossible to subtend the full 180 degree arc -
and, of course, MN of problem four was the wrong diameter.

Naturally, I frowned and shook my head.
But when I looked up Gert was smiling – it had been a joke!
And I knew at that moment we would marry and have six children.




HAIKU HEARTBREAKER

i am a haiku
measurements: five-seven-five
weight: just three light lines

small but powerful
i get to the point quickly
because life is short

do not lollygag
i have no patience for that
it wastes precious time

so let’s meet today
on the way to tomorrow
before we age more

we will have some fun
with three short lines of pleasure
and make memories

then i will leave you
like a date without the kiss
and you will wonder

what was that about?
what’s up with these damn haikus
that leave me stranded?




VERN'S DECEPTION

vernvernIvernvernvernvernAMvernvernvernvernvern
vernvernSOvernvernvernvernvernverSMARTnvernvernvern

NOBODYvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvern
vernvernWILLvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvern
vernvernvernvernEVERvernvernvernvernvernvernvern
vernvernFIGUREvernvernvernvernvernvernTHISvernvernvern
vernvernONEvernvernvernvernvernvernvernOUTvernvern

vernvernIvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvern
vernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernAMvernvern
vernvernTHEvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvern
vernvernKINGvernvernvernvernvernvernvernOFvernvern
vernvernvernvernvernvernTHEvernvernvernvernvern
vernvernvernWORLDvernvernvernvernvernvernvernvern

vernvernHAvernvernvernvernHAvernvernvernvernvernHA
vernvernvernvernHAvernvernvernvernvernHAvernvern
vernvernvernHAvernvernvernvernvernvernvernHAvern
vernvernvernvernvernvernHAvernvernvernvernvern




TWILIGHT ZONE

two plain butter knives
sit on a crusty counter, unwashed
both are tarnished, one is dull -
they dream of slicing roast one day;
of belonging to a fine cutlery block

one says:
“we gonna cut roast one day, George?”
the other promises they will:
“we’ll slice through the fat o’ the lamb,” he says

but neither knife realizes
they were forgotten
three months ago
when their spreader moved
to Kellerville

- a very sad place setting…in the Twilight Zone




THE SPEECH

Trust me  (most people won’t)
I know how you feel  (a restraining order should handle it)
I’ve been where you are  (we’re both here now)
I’ll do everything I can to help (…myself)
I want the very best for everyone (so relax and shut up)
We’ll work together (I’ll be your tyrant supervisor)
And we’ll make things happen (introduce me to that daughter of yours)
Because (gotta think fast here)
I believe in a loving God (now that I’ve seen your daughter)
And I believe in YOU (…if you think like I do)
So can I count on your vote? (are you buying this?)
Great!  (sucker…)

Thank you very much…




LAST CALL

If i were in an accident
and only had a short time
to say good-bye...
i wouldn’t call you

not because i don’t love you
but because you’ve got caller id
and i’d like my last call to be ANSWERED

"hello, operator...got a minute?"




LONELY POEM

Black and white free verse seeks company of rhymed verse with iambic pentameter metrical pattern.  Will try poetry in a couplet setting but am unwilling to attempt tercets, particularly in terza rima.  Am open to ballads, especially with a homonym or two in them.  Ditties, limericks and jingles are fun. Haikus make good quickies.  But dirges and epitaphs need not apply.  Been there, done that!

Sorry, dirges and epitaphs




THRILL ME

if immortality came naturally
we’d want to die for fun

it would be pricey
and it wouldn’t last long
but it would be worth it




CRICKET SONG

I.
dance into night and don’t be afraid
they’re singing for you
they’re singing for you

II.
the crickets do not want applause
they understand
how wrong it is
to stand by the woods
and clap

III.
when i was fourteen
the game was rained out

everyone went home

but me –
i went to the trees
beyond the fence in left field
and hummed

IV.
cricket-dee, cricket-doo
cricket-dee, cricket-doo

those are the lyrics –
if crickets sing them
there’s a good chance for romance,
if you sing them
it screws with the mood

V.
in a police line-up
i would be afraid
if i were the only person
standing among six crickets

VI.
do southern crickets
chirp with a drawl

do northern crickets care

VII.
sing the little cricket song, daddy
sing me to sleep, and don’t stop until dawn

VIII.
behold the mighty cricket voice
tremble at their fierce wrath
the quake is terrible!
the quake is terrible!
bloody is the foot that stomps…

[from the Cricket Dirge of Samereth]

IX.
when time
caves in
i hope
crickets
sing
just one
last song
for me




CHILI

Who likes chili?

“I like chili!” Ralphie sings happily.
Programmer Paul agrees, “Chili is a logical meal choice.”
Nurse Nancy says, “I doctor-up chili with chili powder.”
Banker Bob says, “I have some interest in chili.”
Accountant Al says, “I reconcile my hunger with chili.”
Fireman Fred says, “I like three-alarm chili.  That’s real hot.”
Policeman Pete says, “Chili goes good with doughnuts.”
Old Man Oscar says, “I brake for chili, all the time.”
But Candy Cow says, “I don’t like chili.”

“You don’t like chili?”

“No,” Mary Moo explains.  “Candy and I, we eat hay.”
“That’s because you’re cows,” Farmer Frank laughs.
“But do you know what people eat?”

“Chili!!!”




CHEMISTRY LESSON

she was a pouch
of gourmet coffee;
he was
a hammer
and screwdriver,
used to breaking into cans

everyone understood
her brand
couldn’t be opened
with force

everyone but him…

- a broom to aisle five, please
bring filters!




WHEELBARROW ANNIE

wheelbarrow annie, the bagwoman constellation
located behind NGC3576 in the 4th quadrant of the Galactic Plane
(a southern hemispheric star dump)
would not be seen by the naked eye if it weren’t for the fact
that she’s got the biggest stars in the cosmos

every century, rain or shine, night AND day
and sometimes night again,
annie transfers poetry across the Peruvian night sky
in an extremely HUGE wheelbarrow (nobody knows
where she found it) seven trillion light-years UPHILL, both ways
and she has an arthritic limp

she carefully blends metaphors into chocolate chip star clusters
(they look like cookies through a telescope)
and, like a true bagwoman,
she bellows loony-toon recipes while stumbling
across cosmic terrain
behind NGC3576
in the 4th quadrant of the Galactic Plane
(heaven’s Baltic Avenue)

her bigger poems cushion the bottom of the wheelbarrow
smaller ones hang over the top, lopping long comet tongues
on the solar winds of time

if you look closely you can read some of her work
(…she’s not very talented, is she)




WHITE ELEPHANT

as a gift this year
i’m giving you my condition –
my appearance, my talents, my fears, my scent
my nervous habits, my favorite pleasures
my child support obligation, my modest apartment
both, my intelligence and ignorance; my strange behavior
three thousand dollar suits i never wear but brag about
seven really old shirts i shouldn’t wear but refuse to bury
fourteen memories:  six black and whites; eight in color
some wrinkled guilt i’m tired of lugging around
a belly that’s satisfied
some closet tolerance i’ve neglected; a fish tank
and two credit card bills that linger like drop-by neighbors

you can have them [to do with as you wish] -
in return, I’d like a little compassion…
(wrap it in peace)




CHAUVINIST!

we thought they were in the kitchen,
that’s where they talk –
but betty overheard
“women are the best thing since sliced bread”

it hurt their feelings…

you see,
women aren’t “things”
they’re people
(we learned that)

more importantly
where does bill think bread comes from?




A MOMENT ON SATURDAY

Rosie, my cat –
she sits by the screen
staring sadly at the yard

I let her out -
she sits by the screen
staring sadly in at me

I know how my yard feels -
What's up with that Rosie?




LOVE POEM

hey, lover, read me
don't dismiss me with a click
or print me out for your someday stack
(yeah, I know you've been reading others)
and don't grab another chip, either
or sip some flirty drink that bubbles
that leaves you burping and wanting more
they're all temporary wanna-be's
brief encounters you'll soon forget
but I'm the real deal, hon
I was written just for you
so read me now and know ME
touch me, take me in your hands
memorize my shape, explore my every thought
I want these words to flow from your lips
I need you to read between my lines
over and over again until we're both exhausted
and then I want you to keep me forever
as your favorite poem, that you'll always love




EXCERPTS FROM THE ANNUAL FOREST ROAST

bend over wind-breaker
take a bough
and bark
your sap-soaked
song
of splintered
insect food
upon a blanket
of your own
dead leaves


maples howled
in seasonal
bursts
of color,
oaks branched
around naked
all winter,
and the ferns
turned out
to be
spore losers


photosynthesize this
you bump on a log
and stop rooting
in my undergrowth!


i stand here
because sitting
makes me break out


if a building falls in the city
and there isn't a tree to shade it
will pigeons still roost on its ledge?

(Forest humor blows over a lot of people.  It's very rare, often misunderstood.  You don't see mulch of it around anymore.)




LITTLE ONION

roll away, O little onion
dark invader of the feast
plopped with yellowed pomp
upon my circumstance
stinking without apology
hoping to poison sweetly

roll away, O little onion
harbor master of my plate
pudgy boss-man of the vittles
steaming proudly over decent food
that tries to make an honest meal
intending to drown out gently

roll away, O little onion
you gussied-up prom maiden
whose gown of translucent skins
clings without covering
and hugs without loving
sinful curves that plead casually




CELL BREAK-UPS

You can't just barge in here.  Now, get out!

This womb ain't big enough for the two of us.
When I count to three, you’d better split.

What are you doing here?
Hon, what are YOU doing here!
Who is this bimbo?
I can explain. Please, Veda, let me explain...

How long-a we been friends, Frankie?
A long time, Mr. Sausilito.
I alway-za treat-a you right, Frankie?
I respect you, Mr. Sausilito.
You respect-a me!?
You're like a father -
You're een-a bed with-a my wife!
Mr. Sausilito, we're looking for her contacts...


(Actual conversations heard within the body during the new reality show, "Conception." Many believe the program proves people are made of selfish arguments.)




DRIVEL

i’m so tired
i should neeed
i could read a - no
i mean
i’m sore itred
i’ve so tire ret
i slip-lipperee

i’n sort retiredd
i sleep straight
tired, I tried
but mi eyes
think
like red hot sand

i neeed bbledbed
soo
i go

now sory




NINE

novices rate her
work an eight
but if you read carefully
studying punctuation
and the space between stanzas
- she’s a nine




THE BOSS

he owns the company
and never flushes the toilet

        -everyone acts like they want to be like him




UNSCREWED

one processor board
a ram chip, two cd drives -
they’re stacked beside my gutted PC
like cyber fly pie…

i can’t find a screwdriver!




THE REASON

people need reality tv -
they have to watch
something
to fill up their time




LUCY, THE PIRATE CAT

she was
shackled in a back room cage
reserved for the furry doomed
i suspect
there had been a card game going -
bulldog spit was in her good eye,
a catnip smirk marked that little puss face
my daughter
gifted with cute-shoe perception
affectionately chose her from the lot
(probably because their outfits matched),
and with the magic of a simple “Ahhhhh”
lucy was pardoned from every past woe

for a little while
her limp deceived nations -
the hind legs pointed south, the body moved east
and though her eye patch was white
dark thoughts behind it sucked up night
we sang,
“pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?”
“london,” she hissed " - now cut the crap!"
we asked,
“pussycat, pussycat, what did you there?”
“i killed the queen,” she bragged

all that cat did, it had to be scooped

so we took her to my mother,
the ellie mae saint of lenawee county
and today, five years later
lucy is the beloved mayor of a town of 500
and plays organ at the baptist church

(nobody knows lucy like i do)




LIMERKUS

lady from niger
rode the back of a tiger
he took her to lunch

man from nantucket
carried cash in a bucket
he should have used banks

hickory dick-dock
the mouse scurried up the clock
he ran late that day

old person cromer
read a one-legged homer
he hopped ‘til he dropped

old man from peru
dreamed that he was eating shoe
he woke up tongue-tied

strange lady harris
whom nothing could embarrass
plastered without clothes

old codger broome
kept a baboon in his room
they monkeyed around




SMOOTHIE

Hey there rich boy with the rich toy
and the plastic sexuette,
who’s your sweet thing with the bling-bling
and the lovely silhouette?
If you shake her will you break her,
would it shatter all that class?
Bet your baby don’t say maybe
when it comes to getting –
Assertory, here’s a story -
here’s a “yes dear” man and wife.
It’s her duty to be snooty
and it’s his to calm the strife.
Take his money, honey-bunny,
then go find yourself a store.
It’d be cheaper for this keeper
to just go and buy a –
Ordinary Tom and Jerry
walking through the mall.
Tom is short and chunky,
and Jerry’s kind of tall.
In the worry of their hurry
as they passed the  pizza stand,
I couldn’t help but notice
Tom was holding Jerry’s hand…

There’s a boy who wants a doggie –
Here’s a mom and little brat –
You know, I’d gladly help her
if I only had a bat.
There’s a tub who’s dripping ice cream –
Here’s a girl on the phone –
There’s a janitor beside me
sucking on a chicken bone…

Hey…there…

Sweetie from the streetie,
is your wiggle just for me?
Bring the motion of that ocean
over to your daddy’s knee.
You’re a tiny, whiney-hiney -
such a pretty southern belle.
I’d better look away now
or I’ll likely go to –
Hello, mother.  Hello, father -
and your family of five.
Walk and smile for awhile,
make it worth your Sunday drive.
Little hop-and-bop-and-stoppers
bounce and orbit at your knees -
sorta funny when they’re runny
like a little group of bees…

Well, it’s crazy to be lazy
and to waste away the day,
but I’m glad I bought this smoothie
and I surely liked my stay.
Still, I have to mosie, Rosie
from this carnival sideshow –
Bet there’s many if there’s any
who will wonder as I go.




HERE LIES MAYNARD BUFORD SKUNK

Here lies Maynard Buford Skunk -
best behaved when he got drunk.
Drank his coffee without a cup.
Ate his meat while it stood up.
Never brushed his teeth fer bed.
Never combed his hairy head.
Took a bath ‘bout ev’ry May.
(Missed a year or two, they say.)
But don’t you judge ol’ Buford Skunk.
He sure behaved when he got drunk.




PREDICTION

fifteen years from now
i won’t remember writing this
you won’t remember reading it




FAIRY TALE ENDING

When I die don't buy a casket.
When I pass don't dig a grave.
Please don't chisel on a headstone
that my life seemed very brave.

Leave the blood within my body.
Embalming doesn’t suit me much.
And I don't want to wear make-up.
Make-up’s such a lying crutch.

Know that all has been forgiven.
Please forgive me in return.
Cherish every happy moment.
Leave the ones that cause heartburn.

Take me to the nearest ocean.
Place me in a wooden boat.
Sing a hymn to honor Jesus.
Light it up and let ‘er float.

As I drift into the sunset
listen for my sweet shalom.
Keep the faith and kiss the children.
I'll be there when you come home.


THE END

"POOF!!"
© Copyright 2008 Myra Maines (hupomone at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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