Category Archives: Humor

A Surefire Recipe for Banishing Dejection

Click on first photo to enlarge all.

 

A Surefire Recipe for Banishing Dejection

If you’re feeling down and out about this last election,
here’s a recipe that might banish your dejection.
Or, if instead your problem is way too much to do,
this selfsame concoction might just work for you.

You need to take a holiday away from all your hurrying.
Life was not created for perpetual worrying.
Take all the world’s problems and put them on a shelf.
Take a little time off  purely for yourself.

Find a ripe banana, a papaya and some ice.
Blueberries, soy milk, fiber and some apple juice are nice.
Don’t worry if the papaya has a big brown spot.
You can cut it out because, poisonous? It’s not.

Put it in a blender. Push the button with your finger.
It’s not automatic, so you will have to linger
while the magic little blades make your concoction thinner.
Take a meditation break as you watch its spinner.

After just a minute, retire with your drink.
Take it to an easy chair to have a little think.
Chances are your problem is that you do not sin enough,
so, pour a little gin in if you find it isn’t thin enough.

The Ragtag prompt today is Holiday.

Acquisitions

If you want a closer view, click on the first photo to enlarge all.

Acquisitions

It’s all part and parcel of what I’ve been repressing—
one of those hidden vices I should have been addressing.
All those dingy corners filled with useless things.
Wondering how much happiness each hoarded object brings.
How can I glide through life carrying such a pack?
It must impede my progress with all that on my back.

There must be a reason a turtle has a shell
that enables all he glides through to slide off him as well.
He doesn’t amass fortune or any worldly thing.
Each day he starts anew to see what it might bring.
Perhaps in my next life I’ll be less of a hoarder.
and in the life I’m finishing I’ll be a better sorter.

One pile for donations, another I will sell.
Another, objects for old friends I know will love them well.
One pile for Yolanda and one for Pasiano.
Old pictures for my sister to put on her piano.
Rings for all my nieces and earrings for my friends.
When it comes to shoes, the pile never ends.

When it is all sorted, the clothes all hung on racks,
knickknacks on the tables and records piled in stacks,
I’ll open up garage doors and let the masses in
to sort through all the boxes and plow through every bin.
And when the weekend’s over—the chaos and the din,
I’ll start amassing more and start the process all again!

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/06/rdp-tuesday-parcel/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/06/fowc-with-fandango-repress/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/06/dingy/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/11/04/daily-addictions-2018-week-44/ glide

Barbra Streisand, Carpool Karaoke. A Hoot!!

Our Newest Emperor’s New Clothes

Our Newest Emperor’s New Clothes

How do we mentor our burgeoning youth
in these times of extraordinary stretchings of truth?
Teach them to sort out these rash acts of treason,
to approach them with heart and strain them through reason.
Teach them hating is wrong and exclusion is selfish—
that plastic’s destroying our coral and shellfish.

That medical care should be something for all
and that hoarding of wealth brings a country’s last fall.

Teach them the future is theirs to decide.
Teach them the truth of whom to deride.
Teach them that facts being taught by their teachers
may rival what they’re being taught by some preachers
and those who would rule to win their own gain,
lining their pockets again and again
with tax cuts that only extend to the rich
while the trickle down theory develops a hitch.

Teach them to sort out rhetoric from fact.
Teach them to care and to vote and to act
to stretch out the privilege to blanket us all.
We are not alone on this spinning great ball.
Our former meddling and incredible gall
is why we’re considering building a wall
to keep out the hungry and frightened downtrodden
who come to us weary, exhausted and sodden.

They ask for asylum and our protection
from dictators who have prompted defection
much as many Americans are fleeing south
to avoid the stupidity and the vile mouth
of the dictator who is now ruining our land
with illogical thinking and truth that is canned.
Who will mentor whom in this crazy new world
once the last hateful invectives are hurled?


Our world has been sold out for profit and gain—

overseen by leaders opportunistic and vain.
Perhaps it’s our youth who will now mentor us
to sort out the truth from this internet fuss.
As in the old legend, They’ll teach the uncouth

to forsake propaganda for naked truth.
It’s hoped that our youth wake us up from our doze
to point out the truth of our Emperor’s new clothes!!

 

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/04/rdp-sunday-mentor/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/04/fowc-with-fandango-extraordinary/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/04/burgeon/

A Diet Most Fowl

A Diet Most Fowl

My Dad’s one foolproof diet that he used to quote to us
entailed no calorie counting, no planning, mess or fuss.
He said, “It’s very simple. Put just one thing in your mouth.
Merely eat the north end of a duck that’s flying south!

 

The Daily Inkling prompt today was to create a fail proof diet.
https://normalhappenings.com/2018/11/04/results-guaranteed-daily-inkling/

Advice on Answering the Doorbell of that Translucent Front Door.

Advice on Answering the Doorbell of that Translucent Front Door

Although  you sorta see through it,
you can’t see who they be through it.
So if you fear it is that bore, it
might be better to ignore it.

The prompt is to write a 29 word poem on the subject of translucent.
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/11/03/weekend-writing-prompt-79-translucent/

The Letter “C”

The Letter “C”

Here’s to the letter “C” that marks what is in the middle.
Somewhere between “A” and “F,” it has been known to fiddle.
While “A” studies most diligently, “C” is bound to shirk.
It has a certain phobia regarding too much work.
It’s head and shoulders above “F” and far better than “D.”
Nobody ever flunked a course by maintaining a “C.”

And yet it calls no sound its own. It’s either “K” or “S.”
At birthday time,  we’re given kake and winning brings suksess.
We’re stopped dead in our trases. When we’re kissed, it’s a karess.
Why “C” has no sound of its own, not one of us kan guess.
When the sirkus komes to town, it’s happened onse or twise
that the krokodiles eskape. It isn’t very nise.

Townfolks run and skurry—skared as they kan be,
for katastrophes kan happen when krokodiles run free.
It isn’t too konvenient, as you kan klearly see
to be a kurly letter the likes of letter “C”
that’s firmly in the middle, with no sound of its own.
Does “C” dream of being “S” when it’s fully grown?

For “The Letter C” prompt by Daily Inkling.

Streisand Carpool Karaoke. A Hoot!!!

Witches’ Brew (96 words)

 

Witches’ Brew

Stir the cauldron, stir it well
until its contents start to jell.
Don’t have a look or you will shiver
over gnat eyes, bat wings, liver.

A witch’s curse and zombie’s howl
season this concoction foul.
Want to have a little sip?
Bring close your tongue. Thrust out your lip

toward this putrid, icky treasure.
Here’s a spoonful for your pleasure.
Now that you’ve had a little dose,
don’t look so startled and morose.

Such behavior’s never seen
in witches’ houses on Halloween.
Put away your groans and pouts.
It’s not as bad as brussels sprouts!!!

https://susannahill.com/2018/10/27/the-8th-annual-halloweensie-contest-aahhhrrrooooooooo/

On the Wagon (A Vampire’s Lament)

Matt is turning Halloween on us, demanding that we imagine being turned into a vampire for the month of October for the rest of our lives.  I just wrote a vampire poem for another prompt, Matt, but oh well, here I go again!!!

On the Wagon
(A Vampire’s Lament)

I’m facing a whole month of sober
now that it’s almost October.
Passing up my gin and tonic
for a drink more histrionic.

Need I say I merely ask
liquid refreshment from a flask?
All said and done, I much prefer
to drink from glass and not from her.

I find this other way of curbing
my addictive thirst disturbing.
All that blood that sucking draws
is neater when it’s done through straws.

Alas, I find this vampire curse
most distressing. Nothing worse
could be my fate except perhaps
karma so far kept under wraps.

An Easter curse would be the dregs—

to spend all April sucking eggs!

For Matt’s Vampire Prompt.