Category Archives: humorous poem

Spring Cleaning

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Spring Cleaning

It’s that time of the year when I want to come clean
and turn into a virtual sorting machine.
I’m emptying closets and clearing out shelves.
Disposing of all of my former used selves.
Keeping the best of me. Tossing the worn.
Keeping the new me that’s daily reborn
and discarding the jaded, the bored and forlorn.

I’m renouncing old habits and starting anew.
I’m not limping along in my regular queue
of things to accomplish and deeds I must do,
and I’m making a list of things I’ll eschew—
things that inevitably make me blue—
politics, violence, things all askew
that have turned our whole planet into a zoo.

I’m making an outline to use as a guide
with all the things that I’ve certified
will make my life better and straighten it out.
They’ll make me happier, without a doubt.
Troublesome people I’m going to avoid.
Life is too short to spend it annoyed.
What is life for if not to be enjoyed?

I’ll go on a diet and I’ll become svelt.
Shorten my hemlines and tighten my belt.
I’ll take all the tactics I’ve learned in this life
as daughter and student and girlfriend and wife
and put them together into a rich stew
of what I have vowed that I’m going to do.
Then tackle my life with this new retinue.

Or else I’ll stay home and not worry about
having a gorgeous body to flout.
I’ll cook puddings and pastries and share them with friends,
put on a few pounds without making amends.
Taking more time to stare at the birds.
I’ll do fewer shoulds and do more absurds—
cavort with my art and play with my words.

Consort with the dogs and cuddle the cats.
Issue fewer “No’s!” and give way more pats.
Since this is my life and I am the boss of it,
I’ll make a vow to get rid of the dross of it.
Clean out the dreads and stock up on the wants.
hang out at all of my favorite haunts,
believe what praise comes and ignore all the taunts.

Word prompts today are limp, outline, new, renounce and politics.

Enforced Reflection

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Enforced Reflection

I’m keeping my composure and compensating for
the fact that they won’t let me venture out my door.
Given lemons, I make margaritas—take the opportunity
now that I can’t wander about in the wide community,
to revel in the riches that abound right here at home,
watching Jesus painting murals all around my dome.

I’m baking lots of cookies, although their fate is sad.
After painters ate just one or two, Diego was so bad
that he raced into the kitchen and made off with all the rest.
One friend suggested delicately it might have been best.
Would I have eaten any that remained? Yes, it’s true, I might.
I must admit my waistbands are getting sort of tight.

Perhaps it’s lack of exercise. Perhaps it’s medication.
Since I so rarely don street clothes, I have no indication.
I avoid the scales because, you know, they are so changeable.
Up one day but rarely down. (Wish they were more arrangeable.)
With nature as our trainer, perhaps we will be changed
in other crazy pastimes in which we’ve become deranged.

Fracking and polluting, casting all our trash
out there in the ocean, making a god of cash.
Nature has to teach us to change our foolish ways
by sending us all to our rooms to pass our “time out” days.
And perhaps now I’m sequestered and set upon the shelf,
Diego’s her reminder to take care of myself.

The image of Diego with a cookie in his mouth is from a retablo/art collage I’m making that is recording my time spent in Mother Nature’s Time-Out period. Why don’t you join me? Mine was finished but then I have to keep adding to it. At least a story a day. Diego was that day’s.

Prompts for the day are composure, compensate, opportunity, revel and trainer.
And, for dVerse Poets Pub prompt: Solitude.

Two Faces

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Photo by Hunters Race on Unsplash. Used with permission

Two Faces

There’s a twinkle in his eye in spite of higher education,
and although he is hard-headed, there’s an air of jubilation
whenever he is in a room. There’s magic in his laughter
that sets you all to wondering just what it is he’s after.

He’ll bathe you in attention. His queries will resound,
but his answers to your problems are likely to rebound.
He’ll write you up on charges and you’ll wish you gave a pass
when he inquires about your problems, then fires your whiny ass!

 

Prompt words for today are twinkle, education, hard-headed, resound and bath.

Not A Creature of Habit

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jdb photo/do not replicate without permission.

Not A Creature of Habit

Fortitude’s cool, but frazzled’s more fun.
I’d rather be scattered and out on the run
than to be stoically still like a nun.

Out in the village, I’ll use my fine wit,
but identical nuns would have none of it,
Me as a nun? I just wouldn’t fit.

Even clothes are a habit when cloistered in place.
A nun has no moxie, no sass in her face.
They’re out of the mainstream and out of the race.

So hand me no wimple, no habit, no veil.
Confined in such clothes, I could barely exhale.
This bird needs her freedom, not salt on her tail.

 

The word prompts today are frazzled, fortitude, wit, identical and village.

Note: I know there are many nuns who do not fit this stereotype. I claim poetic license to make use of hyperbole!!

Selective Superstition

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Selective Superstition

I don’t believe in messages delivered by astrology.
I think my personality’s a matter of biology.
Images in crystal balls I’m sure are just projections.
I’m not about to spend my dough on engineered reflections.

But still I pluck at daisies. Does he love or does he not?
And I check out daily the Tarot cards I bought.
Every scattered grain of salt I throw over my shoulder.
and I won’t step on sidewalk cracks until I’m somewhat bolder.

I’m flexible, I guess you’d say, dealing with superstition.
I want the ones I follow to match my disposition.
If I’m the one in charge of the ones that I am choosing,
I tend to have control of what I’m gaining or I’m losing.

 

Prompt words today are image, dough, message, astrology and personality.

High School Commencement, 2020 Style

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     muhammad-rizwan-VnydpKiCDaY-unsplash Used with permission

High School Commencement, 2020 Style

Here in Coyote Valley, we’ve had a small preview
of just what can happen when the world has gone askew.
High School Graduation might have gone without a hitch.
A certain senior’s choice of clothing was the only glitch.
When he approached the platform, parents nearly had a stroke.
His classmates simply had a laugh. They all enjoyed the joke.
His Hazmat suit was timely, though his mortarboard was tilted.
It beat the valedictory speech, which was a little stilted.
Thus Billy Jenkins pulled one over getting his diploma.
First the face mask and what with the principal’s glaucoma,
he missed the fact of who he had just handed an escape
from another year as senior without the dread red tape
of actually passing history, keyboarding or biology.
English, math or woodshop, PE or sociology.
Without opening a single book, Billy counted coup.
Add this to the statistics. COVID-19 got him through.

Prompts for today are coyote, valley, graduation, stroke and preview,

Street Smarts: Flo Educates the Ivy League

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Street Smarts: Flo Educates the Ivy League

Slip me a quarter, flip me a dime,
and you’ll still have your meal in the usual time.
When the diner is full due to inclement weather,
and your rowdy squad descends all together,
understand that you’ll just have to wait your fair turn
or the fries will be soggy and the hamburgers burn.

I  have a hunch you’re an ivy league boy—
a chip off the old block, your mom’s pride and joy,
but when you come slumming to this side of town,
it’s best that you play your fancy side down.
We don’t cotton to folks who think they’re our betters
or cater to jocks with their varsity letters.

Some day you’ll no doubt be someone of renown
with your designer suits or your medical gown,
but for now you’re a kid sitting there on a stool—
a self-declared prince with no country to rule.
So shut your damn mouth. Move to that empty table,
and you’ll have your burgers as soon as I’m able.

 

Prompts today are quarter, understand, squad, hunch and street.

A “Do” Review

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A “Do” Review

The sermon is boring, so with nothing to do
but stare at the preacher, I’m staring at you
and reviewing your haircut, here from behind.
I know I’m in church and so I should be kind,
but I notice the trim over one ear is higher,
and the top is so high that I can’t see the choir!
Bouffant is a style, my dear, that’s passé
unless you are Dolly or possibly gay,
and the color is glaring. It’s hurting my eyes.
You need a new stylist with subtler dyes.

Your split ends are shocking, but there’s a solution.
If you don’t pursue it, there’s no absolution
for sins of omission equal to these.
(It’s simply my sense of noblesse oblige
that leads me to share with you thoughts on your hair,
for when it comes to style, dear, there isn’t much there.)
I can give you the name of a salon I know
and it’s up to you if you want to go,
but if you choose not to, I’d advise that
you do us a favor and just wear a hat!

For NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 27, we are to write a review of something not normally
reviewed.

The Banker, the Doctor, the Rabbi, the Priest

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PhPhoto by Ryan O’Niel on Unsplash. Used with permission

The Banker, the Doctor, the Rabbi, the Priest

The banker, the doctor, the rabbi, the priest
used to jam back back in high school and never ceased.
They’ve been meeting on Saturday nights all their lives
leaving their girlfriends and bishops and wives
to drink beer and rap and have deep discussion
about riffs and choruses, notes and percussion.
The priest is the drummer. He wields a wild stick.
The rabbi’s a string guy. The cello’s his schtick.
The banker plays sax and the doctor’s on keys,
but they’re all pretty good at  shooting the breeze.

It’s as hot as a sauna and still they play on.
All through the night and into the dawn.
the priest squeegees his glasses off with his left thumb
while his right is engaged in beating the drum.
He’s a stickler for rhythm, enthralled with the beat.
He stirs a small zephyr while stomping his feet.
When they’ll stop playing is anyone’s guess.
It’s obvious they overlook my duress.
They’ve had a good jam. A most excellent session,
but the priest better scoot or he’ll miss my confession!

Prompts for today are stickler, squeegee, zephyr, enthrall and guess.

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Empty Datebook

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Empty Datebook

Another lonely Saturday. The singles are all vexed—
a world of restless wallflowers, feeling they’re surely hexed.
If I may be candid, Corona’s not at fault.
You’re not some precious treasure, sealed up in a vault.
If we did our homework, we’d know the truth of it.
You didn’t have that many  dates  before the virus hit!

 

Prompts today are Saturday, Candid, Lonely, Vex and Homework.