Category Archives: Humor

August Buffet

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August Buffet

Although we came for the buffet,
what harm is there if we delay?
That pile of leaves looks so inviting.
The kid in me it is inciting.

Piled up so deep and dense and crunchy,
even though I’m feeling lunchy,
still I have a need more urgent,
childish thoughts now more resurgent.

All of spring’s precipitation
prompted lush leaves and the inception
of my hopes for autumn joys
shared by kids—both girls and boys

in festering imaginations
for these countless generations.
And so, we take a giant leap
to dive into the glorious heap,

Rolling in their crisp and crunch,
forestalling  our urgency to munch.
Then, brushing off our fronts and backs,
we go inside for drinks and snacks.

2015

 

 


Prompts today are crunchy, look, buffet, August, spring and precipitation. Image of  leaves by Patrick Connor and buffet by Markus Winkler, both @Unsplash and image of me by Forgottenman. Other images by me.

The Embarkation of Miss Emily

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The Embarkation of Miss Emily

He strolled into her module acting all hale and hearty,
issuing an invitation to his birthday party.
He was throwing a big shindig like those raves of yore—
the kind where she was sure she’d be perceived as quite a bore.

They’d sail out to an island on a rented yacht.
A bikini would be clothes enough. The weather would be hot!
She’d have to take a day off work. There’d be no compensation,
but this was not the reason for her main hesitation.

She did not feel affronted. She felt no perturbation.
Rather, she debated her own qualification.
She was no party animal, nor had she ever been.
Her parents both regarded such revelry as sin.

She had no experience with pot, cocaine or gin
and even less experience when it came to men!
So her positive response, though wary, was wholehearted.
if she was going to be wild, ’twas high time she got started!

 

Prompt words are hale, affront, qualification, module, yore and compensation.

Ode to the Las Vegas Buffet

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Ode to the Las Vegas Buffet

After some poker and roulette and craps,
we return to our rooms for some well-deserved naps.
The gambler in me has been curbed at a cost.
One poker chip memento, and the rest has been lost.

As I sink into bed, worries float away,
heavenward-bound as I doze in the hay.
Tomorrow’s buffet—that iconic repast
will insure our regrets over losses won’t last.

We’ll pile our plates, then come back for more
until we pop out of the clothes that we wore.
We’ll recoup our losses, for the assets we left
we’ll take home again in our bodily heft!

 

Prompt words today are float, gambler, memento, repast, heavenward and iconic. Images by Aidan Howe and Kenny Eliason

The Real Dirt, for dVerse Poets

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The Real Dirt

Dirt has had, since its inception,
an unfair place in our conception—
a thing for us to rail against
and throw the laundry pail against.

Dirty thoughts are seen as rude,
and yet dirt grows our daily food.
Without it, we would flail and totter.
Impossible to walk on water!

 

Just had to repost this poem from four years ago for the dVerse Poets prompt.  You can find it here:  dVerse Poets
To read other poems on this topic, go HERE.

Dietary Doldrums

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Dietary Doldrums

Her eating habits, luckily, were found to be most corrigible,
for her personality was found to still be porridgeable.
Oatmeal formed her breakfast and salads formed her lunch
as she foresook the bad foods on which she used to munch.

Buttery popcorn banished as an unhealthy mistake,
she snacked instead on kale chips for her figure’s sake.
Rare steak was  soon banished, for she relished it no more
once she foresook flesh meats, shuddering at their gore.

Her electric grinder ground chickpeas up instead
and this was the protein upon which she fed.
Healthy ever after once her war with food was won,
meals sugarless and greaseless, alas, were not much fun.

 

\Prompt words today are buttery, personality, gore, corrigible, Steak and electric. Image by Deryn Macey on Unsplash. 

Strappy Stilettos

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Strappy Stilettos

I languish in these pointy shoes with their flimsy straps.
My ankles teeter with their height, I poke out through their gaps.
I don’t appreciate the fact that they’re the current style.
You try walking in such shoes mile after mile!

The material that forms them is so sparing and so meager
that I’ll be darned if I can figure out why gals are eager
to teeter down the street in them or wear them out to dance.
Trying to walk on shoes like this is taking quite a chance!

The truth lies in the fact that shoes like this must be the fashion
of men for whom the look of things is their only passion.
Safety and walkability cannot be their goal,
for feet were not created to balance on a pole

held in by straps that mean the heels can slide from side to side,
prompting a proclivity to stumble and to slide.
Mr. Choo and Ferragamo, if they ever tried to wear them
might have found their shoes inclined to torture and to scare them.

There should be a special Hell made for designers who maintain
that for the sake of passion one must succumb to the pain
of shoes that are a torture. They should have to walk a mile in them
and while they are in agony, be forced to feign a smile in them!!!!

 

Prompt words today are: pointy shoes, languish, lie, meager, appreciate and flimsy. Image by Femme Spirit @Unsplash.

Disposing of Grandma (In Accordance with Her Wishes)

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The Vacant Lot

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The Vacant Lot

The vapors of a morning mist rise from the vacant lot.
It is a tract forgotten— our neighborhood’s biggest blot.
Each person’s in denial as to their distribution
of building rubble and garbage that’s their daily contribution

to this precarious tumble of rubble, junk and weeds
that every year grows higher and in whose jumble breeds
mosquitoes, rats and killer bees that invade my yard
making neighborly coexistence exceptionally hard.

Good fences make good neighbors I’ve found to be a myth.
To see the truth of this old adage, we must strip it to its pith.
For the stone wall that borders it, alas, has been infested
by a million angry worker bees whose well-being’s invested

in invading all their neighbors, driving dogs and human folks
back into their houses to avoid their neighbors’ pokes.
A precarious situation, at best, dear reader, for,
there is a dilemma present at its core.

If we want to eat their honey must we put up with their stings?
Must we coincide with every danger nature brings?
For the ending of the story, if you care, you now must wait.
For I will recite it at a later date.

Today’s prompt words are vapor, precarious, myth, tract, denial and vacant lot.

Morning Cuppas

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Cup of Java?
Cuppa Tea?

Cups of Java or Cups of Tea? Me, I just need my:

Morning Couplets

Every single day for years, my morning’s not replete
until my poem is published—polished and complete.

I meander through my sentences until I think they’re done,
and then I herd them into shape—each metaphor and pun.

My need is pathological to get them all just right.
I love words’ sensuality, their pathos and their bite.

Though some have a reluctance to show up when I call them,
there’s a satisfaction when I finally recall them.

What would I do with mornings if I had no words to play with?
There’d be nothing else for me to find to fill my day with!

Prompts for today are meander, sentence, pathological, replete, reluctance.

Rules of Order

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Rules of Order
(Mom’s Note Taped up on The Fridge)

I have a part time passion for things in their right place.
Shoes go in the closet. A nose goes on a face.
An Oxford comma bothers me when placed before an “and.”
An apostrophe in a plural word? Something I can’t stand!

“Me and her,” though common in modern print and speech,
is a solecism that I must beseech
you not to make. The use of it is bound to cause a screech.
Such errors unforgivable—a gross grammatical breach.

When issued from an errant tongue, it’s sure to cause a rise
in my pulse and blood pressure and pitchforks in my eyes!!!!
When I was a teacher, I’d put squiggles through a word
like “awesome” for its overuse was one I found absurd.

In striking out such errors, I felt most justified,
to save its proper usage for times more bonafide.
Right things in right places just somehow soothe my soul.
Sorting out the universe is my heartfelt goal.

Forks all on the left side, spoons and knives all on the right.
Bowls all stacked up on a shelf are a lovely sight.
Ants all neatly marching in their single rows.
Orderly arrangements? Even Nature knows

are the proper way for all the world to go,
and now that I’ve informed you, even you must know
enough to know that order makes me a happy camper,
so after this, please put your dirty socks into the hamper!!!

 

 

Prompts today are part time, passion, striking, solecism (a grammatical mistake in speech or writing), rise and squiggles. Photo by jdb