Category Archives: Humor

Intervening with the Solstice

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Intervening with the Solstice

They’re intervening with the solstice. We’re requiring more light,
though adding one more month to summer simply isn’t right.
They’ll put a manmade light up in the sky next to the sun.
We’ll have summer the whole year through once mankind is done!
Next, they’ll augment infinity and make the rain much wetter.
There’s nothing like a mortal man for making nature better!

For another poem on the subject of the solstice, go HERE.

The prompts are solstice, intervene and infinity.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/21/rdp-friday-solstice/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/21/fowc-with-fandango-intervene/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/21/infinity/

Your Dishwasher’s Advocate

9 Replies

 


Your Dishwasher’s Advocate

Cycle after cycle, they clean our dirty dishes
yet do we ever think about acceding to their wishes?
Maybe they, too, have appetites, and I sometimes think perhaps,
they were patiently waiting for their favorite scraps.

A bit of rich spaghetti sauce, a dollop of our mousse,
a little bit of buttered bread or rib eye’s savory juice
might have fulfilled their evening’s dreams or might have made their day,
But instead we diligently swab it all away!

No rich reward for faithful servants waiting for our scraps.
No satifsfactory searches for tidbits left in gaps.
And so they go another day, our faithful old machines,
without a taste of hamburgers or beets or nectarines.

They cannot live on water alone. Those soapsuds have no savor.
And so the next time when you scrape, please do your pal a favor.
Leave a few scraps on the plate. Don’t clean too well those tines.
Think about your faithful friend who oh too rarely dines.

Leave your dishwasher a tip—something on which to sup.
Leave wine dregs in your goblets and leave them facing up!
Leave rice grains in your rice bowl. Do not clear that sauce away.
Being less efficient, will make your Maytag’s day.

If your wife makes a kerfuffle over the job you do,
remind her it is you that’s here scraping off the goo.
Take her by the shoulders and deflect her view.
Your dishwasher is grateful for it every time you do!

 

https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/16/fowc-with-fandango-cycle/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/16/wish/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/16/your-daily-word-prompt-kerfuffle-December-16-2018/

Home Plate: Sweet Victory

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It’s hot summer in the teeming city with tenements piled room-on-room. With narrow hallways and nonexistent grassy plots, where’s  a kid to play?

 

Home Plate: Sweet Victory

They’re playing baseball in the street again, forcing cars to wait,
restless in the intersection, ’til they see the fate
of the ball the bat just cracked, rising in the air
to land in someone’s flower pot or on the tenement stair.
They make such a brouhaha, loud boys and louder cars,
that Grandma rises up a bit to clutch at window bars.

It is a large commitment, for she can’t sit down again
without some help, but still she is attracted by the din.
Are car horns blaring  for the inconvenience or a homer?
The batter’s mad dash down the street and back a slight misnomer,
for first base is the red car and second base the yellow.
Cross the street and third base is the stair stoop of the fellow

who exits from his doorway, briefcase in his hand,
who seems in a great hurry and yet chooses to stand
to see the runner execute his skipping zigzag run
homeward toward the batter’s plate that holds a sticky bun.
Horns blaring as he executes his mission, ends his flight,
bends over, grabs his trophy, and takes his winning bite!

 

Prompt words today were play, intersection, commitment and brouhaha.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/15/rdp-saturday-play/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/15/fowc-with-fandango-intersection/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/15/commitment/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/15/your-daily-word-prompt-brouhaha-December-15-2018/

No Energy

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No Energy

When he made his overture on electronic media,
it read as though he’d copied it from an encyclopedia.
Each sentence was incongruous with the one before,
his transitions nonexistent and his details all a bore.
He was indubitably boring, so she gave the guy a miss.
Judging by his message, imagining his kiss.

The prompts today are overture, electric, incongruous and indubitable.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/14/rdp-friday-overture/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/14/fowc-with-fandango-electric/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/14/incongruous/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/14/your-daily-word-prompt-indubitable-December-14-2018/

Heavenly Retirement

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Heavenly Retirement

She was the center of attention, a magical surprise.
She rivaled Cleopatra both in manner and in guise.
Her courtiers all fumbled in their desire to please her.
Her courters milled and tumbled in their urgent need to squeeze her.
For she knew well the subterfuge of makeup and of dressing
to keep all of her paramours both interested and guessing.

A masterpiece of camouflage, she dressed to win their favor—
the cynosure of attention who changed in age and flavor
from audience to audience—one day serene and regal,
the next day fluffy as whipped cream, appearing barely legal.
She kept admirers captive for so many years
that she outlived all her children and outlived all her peers.

But when at last she succumbed to inevitable fate,
making her grand entrance through that pearly gate,
all the hosts of heaven bowed down to all her glory
having no idea how wrinkled and how gory
she was beneath her raiment and the mask that met their eyes.
It was only the next morning that they saw through her disguise.

For alas, on trips to heaven, carry-ons are not allowed
and responsibility for checked bags disavowed.
So she arrived without her makeup, her wigs and all the stuff
she’d used throughout her lifetime to powder, paint and buff
herself to fine perfection. Without her wigs and clothes,
she had no other choice except to finally disclose

that she was just the girl next door—albeit so much older—
her visage creased and wrinkled, stooped over at the shoulder.
Her breasts were much deflated and her color merely sallow.
Without the false eyelashes, her eyes were strangely shallow.
And as she looked into the mirror, she finally faced the facts.
She could sink into her rocking chair and finally relax!

 

The prompt words today are fumble, magical, masterpiece and cynosure. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/rdp-thursday-fumble/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/13/fowc-with-fandango-magical/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/masterpiece/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/your-daily-word-prompt-cynosure-December-13-2018/

Coterie

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Coterie

Are you in my coterie or am I in thine?
I’d find it much more stimulating if you were in mine.
If I’m the leader of the pack, the one who’s picked to shine,
I admit, my friend, that I would find it most divine.

When folks pulled out their cameras, I would stand in the center.
At every social gathering, I’d be the first to enter.
I’d be the first to order when our group went out to dine.
I’d have  prime place at table. I’d get to choose the wine.

It would become tradition that I would be the star.
All the handsomest of men would eye me from afar.
But after this conjecturing, of course I could be wrong.
If I am in your coterie, I’d only tag along!

 

The prompt words today are coterie (love that word,) camera, stimulating and tradition. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/12/rdp-wednesday-coterie/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/12/fowc-with-fandango-camera/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/12/stimulating/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/12/your-daily-word-prompt-tradition-December-12-2018/

 

Born Lazy

10 Replies

IMG_6426

Born Lazy

You can have your tennis, your jogging, golf and hiking.
I’d rather spend time coasting while other souls are biking.

You’ll never find my name in the record books of Guinness,
for I don’t excel at basketball or badminton or tennis.

Somehow, nature slighted me when it came to “gameness.”
When asked to participate, I simulate my lameness.

I guess I was born lazy. I simply love my bed.
I pretend not to hear it when the cat yowls to be fed.

When duty calls, I plug my ears and happily roll over.
I find it is more comfortable here in beds of clover.

Eavesdropping

7 Replies

If you use Skype, chances are you’ve been as irritated as I was when it automatically updated me to a feature that suggests responses and emojis to use to answer written messages others have left for you. Since this is how I usually use it instead of visiting orally with visuals, it can be especially off-putting.  I finally figured out how to turn the feature off, but forgottenman hasn’t and a few minutes ago, I received this message from him.  I had just left him this message:

Judy: Gotta close my eyes now.. the sun is shinin so brightly through the drapes that it blinded me. Can’t see to type…

This is the message I received back from him:

forgottenman: Weird – one of Skype’s suggested responses to your last msg is “What song is that?”.

Judy: I guess I must must have a naturally lyrical mode of speech.  Ha!!!

Lucky at Languages, Unlucky at Love

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Image from freeimages.com            

This poem is pretty silly, but I like the challenge of using only one rhyme for an entire poem. More of a puzzle than anything else.

Lucky at Languages, Unlucky at Love

The night was warm and balmy and he was a man in uniform.
She was adept at languages from French to Greek to Cuneiform.
They met one balmy evening on the Eiffel Tower.
He aided her in climbing, then offered her a flower.
She thanked him first in French and when it drew a puzzled glance,
she surmised he must be from a place other than France.
She tried again in English, in Spanish and in Greek.
She would have tried her Chinese, but her Mandarin was weak.
She pointed to his medals, his ribbons and his bars—
all his decorations. She counted all his stars,
but could not find the language to express admiration.
And thus the evening ended, I fear in consternation.
The moral of the story? Put your horse before the cart. 
It’s best to know love’s language before you give your heart.

 

The prompts today were uniform and balmy. Here are the links:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/03/rdp-monday-uniform/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/03/balmy/

The Doldrums

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The Doldrums

Please pardon my annoyance and don’t mind my chagrin—
my great dissatisfaction with the mindset that I’m in.
All the former methods that could cause me to exult:
first prayer and then Buscaglia, pot and the occult,
no longer serve this purpose. I am left here cold and rigid.
My fires of enthusiasm have, I fear, gone frigid.
Yet I think I deserve credit, at least, for still resisting
temptation just to end it all. At least, I’m still existing.


Note: It’s fiction, folks. I’m feeling fine!!! So is Forgottenman. He’s just too much of a clown and affords too many photo opportunities that later come in handy for illustrative purposes. Blame the prompts.

The prompt words today are exult, frigid, credit and chagrin. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/01/rdp-saturday-exult/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/01/your-daily-word-prompt-frigid-December-1-2018/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/01/fowc-with-fandango-credit/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/01/chagrin/