Category Archives: Humor

Sixteen

Sixteen

She met him at the harvest dance.
An act of fate, they met by chance.
The very first grown man she kissed,
he was a traveling journalist,
and she had barely got love’s gist
when he vanished in the mist.
For reference, she had not any.
She had not made love with many
and those she’d had were only boys,
as unacquainted with the joys
of mature love as she had been,
for they were only kids, not men.

She found it tedious at best
to spoon with any of the rest,
and yet she tried, and kept a list
in which she rated and she dissed
those teenage lovers that were left
once journalism left her bereft
of seasoned lover who had pleased her
whereas all the rest just squeezed her
wrong, somehow. They smacked and cuddled,
yet, somehow, they all just muddled
what she’d had occasion once, perchance,
to experience at the harvest dance.

She finally devised a plot
wherein she could improve her lot.
She’d do a deed of much renown
to draw her lover back to town.
And this is why she planned the prank
wherein she would rob the bank.
Of course she’d send the money back.
The larcenous gene she seemed to lack,
but this would create so much news
that she was fairly sure he’d choose
to come investigate the crime,
and that would be the perfect time
to improve her skills of woo.
He’d be her prey and she’d count coup.

For a week, her schemes just perked.
She watched and waited, planned and lurked

watching for the perfect time 
to enact her lovelorn crime.
And, finally, the time seemed good.

She donned a long-armed cloak with hood,
took her daddy’s gun and, masked,
said “Stick ’em up” when she was asked
if she was seeking to deposit,
distressing her, it seems, because it
seemed to  cause so little pause,
from the teller, perhaps because

the teller, who was also masked,
gave her a sucker before she asked
what transaction she might mean
to request on this Halloween!

And so it was the plot was foiled.
By mistiming, her plans were spoiled.
She abandoned larceny
and resumed her tomfoolery
with the local high school boys
wherein they all discovered joys
by practice to bring that surcease
she’d sought to learn by expertise.

 

Prompt words for today are journalist, referencetedious, list and pleased.

Fourteen Minute Challenge

Ever played a word in Scrabble that you didn’t know the meaning of? They acknowledged it as a word but you hadn’t the foggiest? This happened to me a short while ago. The word was siriasis and extra points to you if you know what it means. Quadruple points if you can write a poem making use of it within the next 14 minutes. Here is my 14 minute poem:

 

Rainy Day Reminder

You rue those rainy nights and days
when everything is in a haze
and you cannot go out the door
without whiffing petrichor.
Your hair is soggy, face too ruddy,
raincoat sodden, rain boots muddy.
And suffering from all this damping,
girls are in no mood for vamping.
It’s hard to flirt, I must confess,
when one is such a dripping mess.
But consider now the opposite.
When all day in the sun you sit,
you’ll never find men making passes
at girls who suffer siriasis!

 

(To save you the bother of your looking it up,  siriasis means sunstroke, but it was Bushboy who gave me a hint that led me to investigate the very interesting Australian origins of the word petrichor.)

POTUS

POTUS

He’s just a phase in history, but when will this phase end?
The whole world’s breath is being held. When will he round the bend?
As he jogs on in his next race, we wish that it were ended.
Surely as he gains in girth, he must be getting winded!
Yet our domestic maniac goes on planning his crazies.
The world will not be sane again ’til he’s pushing up daisies!

 

Word prompts for the day are domestic, maniac, history and phase. Image by Visuals on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Bunglery at the Ritz Apartments

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Bunglery at the Ritz Apartments

We’re making the assumption that this ritzy part of town
is the perfect place for our next heist to go down.
Jimmy has it in his noggin that we’ve gotta hit the best,
so it should be the penthouse. We should forget all the rest.
But I think he’s a blockhead. We should choose another floor.
Penthouses have alarms in every room, on every door. 
So we settle on the first floor,  but still wind up in jail,
and I’m in here for the long term ’cause I cannot meet my bail.
The docs have sewn up gashes on my arm and my left calf,
but my wounds don’t equal Jimmy’s, not even by a half
And when he pays his own bail, he tells me,”Go to the Devil.”
I forgot folks with the biggest dogs live on the lowest level.

Prompt words for today are settle, block, noggin, heist and assumption.

Photo by Daniel Lincoln on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Reconnaissance

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash, used with permission

Reconnaissance

Enter our shell-shocked hero, all his battles won.
His glorious sorties over, his service finally done.
The stash he found cathartic? He stole it from his son.
Exulting in this final raid, he thought he’d have some fun.

He only took a bit of it. Each day he took some more.
He chewed the bag a little bit, as though to make a door.
He saw his son’s perplexity, searching through the house.
Had a rat made off with it? Could it have been a mouse?

He found his son’s new hiding places—where he had been loitering,
making use of thirty years of army reconnoitering.
The freezer in the garage, a tea tin in the drain.
What enemy made raids into such difficult terrain?

His son could believe sorties over mountaintop and ridge,
but how might a mouse invade a freezer or a fridge?
This mystery went unsolved for at least a decade more,
at which point it was finally told and became family lore.

How his father returned home, fatigued by years of war
and found relief from raiding his teenager’s secret store.
And how these retirement maneuvers against his puzzled son
helped salve the scars of battle with a little fun.

Word prompts for today are fatigue, stash, cathartic, exult and hero.

Knave of Coins

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Knave of Coins

Bored with all his yesterdays, needing a new tomorrow,
grown used to fickle intimacies, much to all our sorrow
he stood upon a precipice where the whole world looked back
and declared himself the ruler of the whole damn pack.
That anybody listened is a sort of modern miracle.
He wasn’t very smart and he surely was not lyrical.
Though he understood but little, what he knew just seemed to work.
One can capture much attention by being a dumb jerk.
He pulled the haters to him—the fearful and the jaded.
All his moneyed cronies supported him, elated.
He’d pull apart the world we knew and put it back again,
but I fear that what few plans he had turned out to be in vain.
For when he’d knocked everything down, he knew not what to do
except to blame the mess he’d made on everyone he knew.
The whole world knows that he’s a knave, his mind and soul both dim.
The thing that is distressing is those who supported him.

 

 

Synonyms for knave on Merriam Webster Dictionary:

Word prompts today are overcome, fickle, intimacy, precipice and yesterday.

The Banana Bread Boo Boo II

The Banana Bread Boo Boo II

When last you had word of our bungling baker, she had substituted 1½ cups of powdered sugar for the flour in her banana bread. (Read about this HERE.) When she discovered it 12 minutes into its baking, a disaster had already occurred. She’ll clean up the oven tomorrow.

Dolly at Kool Kosher Kitchen, who really knows what she’s doing when baking as well as cooking, advised “Take it out! Now! Throw it away.” I had already, in a flash of precognition, heeded half of this advice, but I just could not throw all those ingredients away, so I decided to perform a little experiment.

I put a half cup of the now deflated and runny banana, sugar, egg, butter, baking powder, salt, soda, walnut concoction (which at this point tasted a bit like runny banana jam) into a soup bowl and mixed an equal amount of stick-type bran cereal into it and put it in the microwave for 2 minutes. When it came out it was a bit sticky and very sweet. It would make a good ice cream topping I thought, but wouldn’t want to make a meal of it.

Instead, I mixed about a cup and a half of whole wheat flour into the rest of the banana disaster in the pan and divided it into two bowls and a coffee mug. Each one went into the microwave for 2 minutes and I must say the result is not bad. Never say die, say I, hoping 2 minutes in the microwave and 12 minutes in the oven was enough to cook those eggs!

I wonder if I have sufficient courage to give one of the bowls to my next door neighbors–and if I do, if I should tell them about this fiasco ahead of time. We’ll see tomorrow. Perhaps by then I will be so enamored of my new concoction that I won’t give any of it away. Bet you are dying to see pictures, right?

Click on the photos to enlarge them and see the captions.

 Postscript: If you try to do this at home, kids, one warning–remember to grease the bowls!!! Guess who didn’t.

Advisor to the Lovelorn

Advisor to the Lovelorn

Although she was a novice, she had a trenchant wit.
No matter what the problem, she had a cure for it.
With very little practice, she had soon mastered the job
of advice to the lovelorn—that suffering, confused mob.

She composed her column while sitting in the tub,
dispensing rules and practices to her admiring club
of followers who hung their lives on her guiding words
from their first fumbling kisses to the bees and birds.

She gave names to their thingamajigs and taught them how to use them.
Taught them all the body parts and how to not abuse them.
Virgins forsook their single cots for their marriage beds
with thoughts of all her wisdom swirling through their heads.

But when it came to her own life? Up that proverbial creek.
No wiser soul advised her. No counsel did she seek.
Lover after lover was given a brief chance
to try to woo this very master of romance.

But, alas, their tactics never quite took hold.
This one was too timid and the next one was too bold.
So was it that, sadly, did this mistress of romance
miss out on on her own turn at the wedding dance.

So is it that our betters tell us what to do
whereas within their own lives, they do not have a clue.

Words for today are thingamajig, practice, novice, trenchant and composed.

Impotus

Impotus

He’s up there on the platform acting crass and disagreeable.
That he will bring the whole world down around him is foreseeable.
Every single day I hope and pray for his quiescence,
but, alas, refraining from brash speech is not his essence.
He opens mouth and words fall out—disjointed, vague and dense.
He’d make a great orator if only he made sense.
Good that his mother cannot see the travesty she bore—
narcissistic, senseless, and rotten to the core.
His attempts at humor only render him more silly.
His stench sickening and cloying—like an Easter lily.
He’s like a wild animal: vicious, cunning, feral.
What more can he do to put our whole wide world in peril?
No good can be said of him. He’s rotten through and through.
Daily, the world waits for him to drop the other shoe.

Prompt words today are disagreeable, platform, mother, quiescent and Easter lily. And action!

Hail Diego!!!

Hail Diego!!!

He’s the king of dogs by his own choice.
Behold his ruff, Enjoy his voice!
He raises it in time of doubt
to assert his power and raise his clout.

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Bypassers make their passings brief
Their parting sighs denote relief.
And since he notes each falling leaf,
no way he’ll overlook a thief.

 

IMG_9501It is a fact that crime went down
the minute he moved into town.
All citizens should laud his fame,
and spread abroad his glorious name!!!

 

Prompt words today are relief, fact, king, behold and voice.