The owner of this disgraceful footwear shall remain unnamed. Suffice it to say they are comfortable and he can leave them out on his front stoop with no fear they’ll be stolen.
Sneaking Up On the Muse
My verses are not perfect. I’m no Dickinson or Byron.
My words are rough and crumpled, in need of a hot iron.
My reasoning is stifled, obscured by feeble brain.
I often have to write a line again and then again.
My successful lines are stealthy. They just creep up on me,
perhaps because my muses hang around insistently.
If I could take a stealthie, perhaps you’d see one hovering
there over my shoulder, inspiring and mothering.
In short, on those occasions when my inspiration’s slight,
and I cannot find a poem, likely my muses might!
Words of the day are stealthie, slight, rumpled, stifle and iron.
A bit of excitement today when my sister’s neighbor called us over to see this interloper in his yard. It was between 4 and 5 feet long–a western diamondback rattlesnake..Click on photo to enlarge.
The Brewster
I admire your method of drinking your beer—
boldly and brashly, without any fear
that there won’t be more when you come to the dregs.
You have faith that there’s more in the taps and the kegs.
It’s a pure faith that you have in the hops—
in your estimation, the finest of crops.
Add it to barley and water and yeast
and you’ll have a fine brew to add to the feast.
In schooner or lager, in pint or in bottle,
I like how you swig it down, going full throttle.
Your method is bold but not lacking in grace.
As you gulp down your brew, it’s clear you’re an ace
at pilsner disposal. As the glass leaves your face,
the beer has all vanished with nary a trace,
save for a mustache of frothy white foam
that you lick from your top lip before you go home!
Then, evidence gone, you cross over the bridge
and drive quickly home, where you open your fridge
to extract your “first” brewski, or so thinks your wife.
When seasoned with beer, it’s a wonderful life!
The music’s loudly blaring. An overture it ain’t.
I swear it’s so annoying that it would rile a saint.
Repetitious cymbals and snare drums over-brushing.
I’d pay a pretty penny just to implement its hushing.
I’m sitting in a sandwich shop waiting for my plane,
waiting for this song to stop, but I wait in vain.
I figured that another would replace it in a bit,
but they just replaced it with a more annoying hit.
What is this type of music, back-throated and annoying?
An inhuman vibrato both mechanized and cloying.
I’m trying to decide how to phrase my irritation.
Oh that it was possible for me to change the station.
Why don’t I move away, you ask. Surely, I am able.
The problem is that it’s the only place here with a table
that will hold a laptop and chairs elsewhere are taken,
so I had to order a chicken sub with bacon
that I really didn’t want just to post this poem.
Blogs require a sacrifice when you’re away from home!
Prompt words today are human, figure, hit, overture and phrase.
United States
As I peruse the system, I cannot help but balk.
Instead of fixing fissures, they just bring out the caulk
and stuff it in the spaces, obscuring every crack,
not finding it expedient to deal with what we lack.
If we could come together in more than just our name,
looking for a way to fix instead of just to blame,
we could start on the road to our founding fathers’ aim
and prove for once that politics is more than just a game.
It’s become unexpected for our government to work.
Various private agendas cause senators to shirk
the purpose of their being there—to work the problems out.
Instead, each chance to work together turns into a bout.
Republican or Democrat, their whole agenda should
be to make our country fair and safe and good.
Bring mercy out of hiding. Make lady justice proud.
Surrender guns. Thereby decree,”No violence allowed.”
Take back the halls of governance from the N.R.A.
Accept that we’re all brothers, be we black or white or gay,
transgendered, brown or red, no matter how we look or talk.
If our true aim is democracy, we’ve got to walk the walk.
Prompt words are unexpected, peruse, system, balk and game.
Here are this week’s questions:
1. What is a huskador? A storage container for ears of corn once you’ve stripped off the kernels.
2. What is a cavapoo? A bathroom stop for a cavalcade of people.
3. What is a chorkie? A minor choking fit while eating a pork pie.
4. What is a lollie? A tiny tot’s rest period.
5. What is a dorkie? What you open a door with.
6. What is a springador? What you have to do when you forget your keys.
7. What is a scottie? A diminutive citizen of Edinburgh.
8. What is a puggle? What someone with a severe cold is standing in when he’s ankle-deep in water in the street.
9. What is a pekalier? A very odd person.
10. What is a schnappy? A doggie diaper for your pet schnauzer.
For the Fibbing Friday prompt.
Bella Shuns the Tube
Bella never takes mass transit. She walks another path.
She hitchhikes every day to work from Chippenham to Bath.
For years, it’s true that she has harbored quite a misconception.
I know because I happened to be there at its inception.
She was just a little girl when her father Rube
drove her by the underground and labeled it “the tube,”
She had visions of sink drains, sucking people down
from somewhere in the country to disgorge them in the town.
As a father teaches, so a daughter will be taught.
A plethora of worries overcame her at the thought.
So, as to travelling in the tube? Unlikely that our Bella might.
for when it comes to subways, I fear she is a thelemite!
Prompt words today are misconception, plethora, thelemite (one who does as he or she pleases,) transit and path. Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Unsplash. Used with permission.
I just ran across one of my favorite photos of the past few years. It prompted me to issue this Half and Half Challenge. Please join in by posting your favorite Half and Half photo or photos and sending us a link in my comments below.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 