Category Archives: humorous poem

May-December Marriage

 

May-December Marriage

Your insistence that I swallow three times between each bite
is just one small example of directives that incite.
All your protective rules that others find adorable,
on the receiving side of them quickly turns deplorable.

Whatever you may label them by your own nomenclature,
your “loving” rules are symptoms of extreme controlling nature.

So I’m galvanized to action. Since I’m tired of your caring,
I’m making a decision that’s both personal and daring.

I’m going out without you for a little drive alone
and I’m not taking my pager and I’m not taking my phone.
I might drive without a seatbelt and who knows what else I’ll do.
If I see some flowers by the road, I’ll stop and pick a few

without worrying about the fact a passerby might see
and park his car behind me and decide to kidnap me.
I will talk to every stranger and eat in greasy spoons,
drive out to the ocean and walk barefoot in the dunes

forgetting the sharp objects that might lurk beneath the sand,
neglecting to wear sunscreen and if I get deeply tanned,
I won’t worry about wrinkles or cancer or a burn.
All your careful rules for once I’m going to spurn.

I’m going to eat sugar and perhaps get round and fat,
enjoying all the broken rules involved in doing that!
If you treat me like a kid, then guess I’ll be a teen
and when you tell me what to do, I’ll stage a little scene.

I’ll get home when I want to and go out with whom I wish.
I’ll dine alone on Szechwan food and order every dish.
When you ask when I’ll get home, I’ll shrug and say “Whenever!”
And if you do not change your ways, the answer will be “Never!”

 

Prompts for the day are swallow, between, symptomatic, galvanize and adorable.

The Perfect Man

The Perfect Man

I know from what his kind is cast.
He’s fearless as he is steadfast.
He does not vaunt his strength or looks,
excels at sports and reads good books.

Sexy and mysterious, 
he’s musically serious—
motivated from within
to play a wicked violin.

He is as solid as a rock.
Nobody needs to wind his clock.
And yet I had to choose another,
for, alas, he is my brother!!!

Prompt words today are fearless, steadfast, digitally, vaunt and wind. Photo by Silas Tolles on Unsplash.

Ill-Matched

Ill-matched

The oscillation of her mind, intuitive to rational
from personal creations to political themes national
gave her husband mental whiplash. He barely could keep up.
He found her more exhausting than a brand new pup.

As she sat there prattling, he sat there like a stone.
Her frequency of chatter made him want to be alone.
Poor fellow just could not keep up. He had a mind more staid.
He pondered each new thought he had. Opinions must be weighed!

Meanwhile, her thoughts flew here and there, her mind much more creative.
She formed opinions quickly, while his mind was more debative.
How this couple got together was a matter of derision.
Their union, all their friends agreed, must have been her decision.

 

Prompt words today are stone, poor, intuitive, oscillation, frequency, intuitive and grand. Photos by Brooke Cagle and Usman Yousaf on Unsplash

Lost

 

Lost

When he said that he would lead the way, she meekly fell behind,
for to point out his meandering she felt would be unkind.
The luxuriant undergrowth clung to them in their passing,

the creeks they crossed edulcorating all they were amassing
in pants cuffs and in pockets: burrs and and leaves and pollen,
as he led the way through ditches and over trees fresh-fallen.

And though he seemed decisive, she knew that they were lost.
She followed to preserve his pride, but at what a cost?
Each quirky decision led them more astray
as she followed in his footsteps even though she knew the way.
When they finally reached their cabin, a shower, brush and comb
would eradicate the proof that they took the long way home!

Prompt words are luxuriant, decisive, quirky, edulcorate (to free or purify by washing) and leading. Photos by Joshua Woroniecki and Kurt Liebhaeuser on Unsplash.

And here is my favorite Tom Waits song, “The Long Way Home.”  Seems appropriate to include it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCk-f03o6aA

Some Truths about the Jellyfish

Some Truths about the Jellyfish

The fact is that the jellyfish
will never be a deli fish,
for when one tries to catch their goo
in nets, they’ll find it slips right through.

Their choreography includes
frequent oozing interludes,
the ramifications of this being
that the jellyfish you’re seeing

might be prone to disappear.
So for a moment he is here
and then he’s gone and over there
peering at you from his lair.

A kaleidoscope of colors that
sometimes look skinny, then look fat—
expanding to a great extent.
Shrinking and swelling is their bent

So if you seek a belly fish,
please rule out the jellyfish,
for though I know they look delicious,
they simply aren’t edible fishes.

Prompt words today are kaleidoscope, choreography, ramification and jellyfish. Photo by Maxime Bouffard downloaded from Unsplash.

Rainy Day Doldrums

Rainy Day Doldrums

I’m frenetic with fog, frustrated by rain.
Drop after drop, again and again.
Drumming on roof tiles and gushing in gutters.
Dropping from drain spouts in loud splashing mutters.
Too cold and too dark to chance a meander,
I pull back the drapes to take a small gander.
This poem is a tribute to dryness and sun.
I’ll be glad when the rainy season is done.

I pull back the drapes to have a small ganderPrompts today are fog, frenetic, gander, tribute and glad.

Sticking to the Straight and Narrow


Sticking to the Straight and Narrow

(Mother Superior’s Rejoinder)

Please do not lollygag. There’s no time more.
We’re closing the shutters and locking the door.
Wipe those dreams from your brain, for it is our fear
that your thoughts will diverge from the prim and austere.
Make sure your spirit is pearl white and pure
with no sinful streaks to compete with demure.
Deadly sins number from one up to seven,
and striated souls will not make it to heaven.

 

Prompt words today are lollygag, austere, brain, striate and lock.

Ludicrous Lore


Ludicrous Lore

They say the perpetrators all got off scot-free
by posing as indigenous, but how could that be?

They made a ludicrous trio, emerging from their car.
All wrapped-up like packages, they couldn’t wander far.

They’d been here stealing chickens from White Cloud’s poultry farm
 on the reservation, but what could be the harm?

He had so many chickens that he’d never miss the one
or two or three or four or five that they had pinched for fun.

Yet with feathers in their hat bands and blankets held around them,
instead they uttered this excuse when the rangers found them.

They’d done a bit of hunting here on tribal land.
Their leader was Geronimo. He and his loyal band

had shot the deer with arrows, then bound it to their roof
with ropes tied ’round its antlers and then around one hoof.

But driving down the winding road, the driver got too dizzy.
(They said that it was vertigo that put him in a tizzy.)

That’s what caused the accident that spilled them off the road
where they toppled over sideways and lost their struggling load.

The deer ran off into the woods. It seems it wasn’t dead,
but merely stunned when arrows hit it on the head.

(Luckily, the bottle from which they’d all been drinking
had fallen in the water where the car was quickly sinking.)

It’s surprising that the rangers believed their tawdry tale,
and so they didn’t haul these buffoons off to jail.

They simply called a tow truck, which to their consternation
towed the whole bunch down the road to the reservation

where, alas, they found no kin but only laughter met them
as they huddled near the car and phoned for friends to get them.

And after they departed—hungover, sodden, sore,
their whole silly debacle passed into tribal lore.

The time those drunken cowboys with nothing else to do
sneaked onto the tribal lands and tried to pass for Sioux.

Their totaled car they left behind, and here the whole plot thickens.
It now serves as a handy coop for all the tribal chickens.

Today”s prompt words are scot-free, vertigo, indigenous and package. Image by Tyler Mulligan on Unsplash.

Simian Payback


Simian Payback

In more ways than one, my new roommate is simious.
Eating bananas, he’s hardly abstemious.
His arms are so long that his fists scrape the ground
and when I am gone, he monkeys around!

When we go out in public, the people all gape.
It doesn’t take science to declare him an ape.
He swings on the curtains and ruins my decor

by pulling the drapes from their rod to the floor.

If you said he’s an ingrate, you wouldn’t be wrong.
When I go to the dentist and he comes along,
he mimes for a freebie—a checkup and cleaning,
then stands at the mirror, inspecting and preening,

never imagining he’s out of line
as I dole out the cash for his cleaning and mine.
Just one thing might mitigate his crazy acts,
so I ask that you temper your scorn with the facts.

He was raised in the jungle, then put in a cage
and only let out when he reached middle age.
So how could I help but assist in his exit
with no one around to thwart it or hex it?

With the key in the lock, I just gave a twist
and gave his jailbreak a needed assist.
But now I admit I was way less than clever,
for I have acquired the worst roommate ever!

What prompted my action? Was I less than smart
 when I saw his great need, in playing my part?
I felt that I owed him a really big debt,
 for an ape is way more than merely a pet.

If you studied your science and paid good attention,
you could not have missed this pertinent mention:
if there hadn’t been apes, then there wouldn’t be
any of you and there wouldn’t be me!

 

Prompts today are decor, ingrate, mitigate, abstemious and science. Image by Suzanne Schwartz on Unsplash.

False Endings

False Endings

His paranoia is one for the books.

He finds disease wherever he looks.
He anguishes over the slightest small sneeze
and the tiniest bump brings him down to his knees.

When his girl left him, the heartbreak he felt
was myocarditis, and the smallest welt
on his neck or his face is cancer for sure,
so he’s off to  to Mayo Clinic to look for a cure.

His fixation’s macabre and his acts supercilious
every damn time that he feels a bit bilious,
for he knows better than all of his friends
that he’ll soon meet his maker, so he makes amends

for all his ill deeds and his slights and his snits,
seeing the light when he’s down in the pits.
He should have done better and eaten less pie,
and now he’ll pay for it, for he’s going to die.

And when he gets better, you can bet he’ll be sure
that repentance has brought a miraculous cure.
So goes the story, and though it’s not his ending,
you can be sure that a new plague is pending!

(Note: I know I’ve used this photo at least a few (?) times before but it’s just so appropriate to this poem that I can’t help using it again. )

Prompt words today are: myocarditis, macabre, anguish, supercilious and paranoia.