If I’m not mistaken, you are caught there in your bubble in your torn old housecoat with your legs covered in stubble. Your pupils are dilated and your eyes are blank and glassy. The air in this closed room has turned stale and dank and gassy.
I’m going to turn the light on now. You’ve been here in the dark too long, so I am taking you outside to the park.
You’ve mourned enough. It’s time that you returned to the living. It’s true years take away, but it’s also true they’re giving.
We’ll buy pistachio ice cream, feed your favorite duck and talk about how fortunate we are to have such luck
to be alive and free and here in this glorious place with ice cream in our tummies and sunlight on our face.
Go and take a shower and put on your best duds. Wipe away your dolor with water and with suds.
Blow dry your hair until it looks casual and sporty. I think that even you can survive this turning forty!!
When I said I didn’t miss you, I admit that I lied. I didn’t get enough of you. I left unsatisfied. If you, too, detect a movement in your stone cold heart, perhaps you could begin with a phone call as a start.
I didn’t mean to say it. You didn’t mean to scream. I’m willing to atone for it by any means you deem. Breaking up is hard to do but staying mad is harder. I spend way too much time in bed, too much time in my larder.
I’m gaining weight and losing hair, burst into tears repeatedly. I fly off the handle and insult my friends most heatedly. So I propose our meeting via taxi, boat or plane. Our last tryst was insufficient. It didn’t heal the pain.
If you’ll come out of hiding, then I will do the same. If you’ll agree to meet with me, I’ll even take the blame. You’ll be right and I’ll be wrong. I’ll take the higher road. The digs that I once took at you will produce the motherlode.
The multifarious uses of all of her devices led to manifold laziness and other slothful vices. She never had to scramble to remember anything. She only pushed a button and her troubles all took wing. She had no special training. She eschewed an education, for Alexa solved all problems with her handy automation— turning on the TV set and opening the doors, setting off the cleaning robots, expelling the boors, reminding of vacations and birthdays and appointments, disciplining naughty kids for lapses in deportments. Alexa went to work for her and mapped out all her spreadsheets, polished all her silverware and ironed out her bedsheets. There was literally nothing that Alexa couldn’t do. She cooked her children’s breakfasts and took them to the zoo. Yet still she was suffused by fatigue and wan and thin. No one could imagine the stress that she was in. More and more she wound up with her stomach in a knot. remembering the uses for devices that she’d got!
Out here at my grandpa’s farm, there isn’t any sinning. We’re as innocent as Eve way back at the beginning before original sin was born, decreed by the Almighty and Eve was forced to don a fig leaf in lieu of a nightie. As we kneel to milk the cows, we also kneel in prayer, peeling all our sins away, layer after layer. But I prefer to say Eve’s sin was merely hers alone. I should get to do the sin for which I must atone!
Shoppers are in a quandary. They’ll put up with no delay.
We advertised new bargains available today.
They’re seeking phony purses from Dior and Michael Kors.
Noses against the windows, they’re beating at the doors.
But they’ve delayed our shipments and we don’t know what to do.
The faces of the ladies first in line are turning blue.
The advertising blitz we did turned out to be foolhardy.
Our Chanels are stuck in customs, our Hermès bags are tardy.
We have the fire hoses ready. We’ll use them if we must.
The ladies’ love of Fendi has turned into a lust.
If purses were religion they would be the most confessory.
There is no other obsession like the one for an accessory!
This real Hermès just sold for two million dollars at auction!!! Has the world gone crazy? It is the second most expensive handbag in the world.
Want to see the most expensive handbag in the world? Go HERE.
There was a time when awesome really meant ”inspiring awe”— events like the moon landing that made one drop one’s jaw, sights of numbing beauty or achievements of great skill, art pieces by the masters or achievements of great will.
Yosemite is awesome and so is Everest. Those climbing it are “awesome.” You know they are the best. But today the word has fallen into widespread use— ubiquitous right to the point where it’s become abuse.
Rap music is most awesome, as is that way-cool blouse. You drive an awesome car and live inside an awesome house. My neighbor’s kids are awesome. So are her dog and cat. Her tummy tuck is awesome, as is my purse and hat.
You might have guessed by now that awesome’s not my favorite word. I think the overuse of it is frankly quite absurd. This pizza is not awesome, though you may find me petty for saying it is merely good, and so is the spaghetti.
Your child is lovely, so’s your dress, your silverware and smile. But none of them are awesome—that word brings up my bile. Please use some other word for it—some adjectival jaw full. Because in my opinion, using awesome’s simply awful!!
Fandango’s prompt word for today is awesome, Since I wrote a poem five years ago about this very word, I’m reprinting it here with some minor changes.
If you cannot still your tongue and it tends to flutter, my remedy’s a sandwich of bread and peanut butter. It is the perfect cure-all. If your problem is your stuttering, it quickly turns your dialogue into a slower muttering. And if your daily habit is reorganizing clutter, a palate full of pb gives a different way to putter.
Although you may be jealous that I have a sure solution for stuttering and puttering, please grant me absolution. Don’t hold my thoughts against me as I offer resolution to problems such as famine, global warming and pollution, then give my sure-fire remedy for war and revolution. I simply cannot help that I’m ahead in evolution!
I tend to wax nostalgic when I think of all the times I’ve solved our planet’s problems within my daily rhymes, for as I view predicaments in all the different climes— political maneuverings and other selfish crimes— all the foolish misdeeds best abandoned in our primes— I feel I owe it to the world to dish out paradigms!!!
If my constant words of wisdom set your stomachs churning, cause regret to fill your minds and set your eyes to burning, if you reject solutions, thereby all my wisdom spurning, considering “unfollowing” and never once returning, please reconsider doing so. Try being more discerning. And let me be your guru—your font of further learning!!!