A few days ago I wrote a poem on my blog entitled “Black Friday.” This creative animated film by Steve Cutts so perfectly illustrates it that I had to share it with you. Really inventive and indicative of our modern world.
New Roommate, Chapter 1
I hope I’ll be forgiven if I’m driven to impose
and point out that the place that you have chosen for repose
is on my bed, not yours, and on my freshly laundered clothes!
You’ve drooled on my new-pressed jeans and snagged my finest hose
and that’s my favorite blouse there beneath your dripping nose,
and though you look most comfortable in that snuggling pose,
I fear you and your boyfriend I simply must depose.
Is it possible to move to your own bed, do you suppose?
(See Chapter 2 HERE.)
The prompt for today was “impose.” Here is the link:
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/17/fowc-with-fandango-impose/
D.P.S.*
Please click on first photo below to enlarge all the photos and read the poem that is presented as their captions.
*Duck Positioning System
https://sonofabeach96.com/2018/11/08/which-way-challenge-november-8-2018/
Our Newest Emperor’s New Clothes
How do we mentor our burgeoning youth
in these times of extraordinary stretchings of truth?
Teach them to sort out these rash acts of treason,
to approach them with heart and strain them through reason.
Teach them hating is wrong and exclusion is selfish—
that plastic’s destroying our coral and shellfish.
That medical care should be something for all
and that hoarding of wealth brings a country’s last fall.
Teach them the future is theirs to decide.
Teach them the truth of whom to deride.
Teach them that facts being taught by their teachers
may rival what they’re being taught by some preachers
and those who would rule to win their own gain,
lining their pockets again and again
with tax cuts that only extend to the rich
while the trickle down theory develops a hitch.
Teach them to sort out rhetoric from fact.
Teach them to care and to vote and to act
to stretch out the privilege to blanket us all.
We are not alone on this spinning great ball.
Our former meddling and incredible gall
is why we’re considering building a wall
to keep out the hungry and frightened downtrodden
who come to us weary, exhausted and sodden.
They ask for asylum and our protection
from dictators who have prompted defection
much as many Americans are fleeing south
to avoid the stupidity and the vile mouth
of the dictator who is now ruining our land
with illogical thinking and truth that is canned.
Who will mentor whom in this crazy new world
once the last hateful invectives are hurled?
Our world has been sold out for profit and gain—
overseen by leaders opportunistic and vain.
Perhaps it’s our youth who will now mentor us
to sort out the truth from this internet fuss.
As in the old legend, They’ll teach the uncouth
to forsake propaganda for naked truth.
It’s hoped that our youth wake us up from our doze
to point out the truth of our Emperor’s new clothes!!
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/04/rdp-sunday-mentor/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/04/fowc-with-fandango-extraordinary/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/04/burgeon/
The Letter “C”
Here’s to the letter “C” that marks what is in the middle.
Somewhere between “A” and “F,” it has been known to fiddle.
While “A” studies most diligently, “C” is bound to shirk.
It has a certain phobia regarding too much work.
It’s head and shoulders above “F” and far better than “D.”
Nobody ever flunked a course by maintaining a “C.”
And yet it calls no sound its own. It’s either “K” or “S.”
At birthday time, we’re given kake and winning brings suksess.
We’re stopped dead in our trases. When we’re kissed, it’s a karess.
Why “C” has no sound of its own, not one of us kan guess.
When the sirkus komes to town, it’s happened onse or twise
that the krokodiles eskape. It isn’t very nise.
Townfolks run and skurry—skared as they kan be,
for katastrophes kan happen when krokodiles run free.
It isn’t too konvenient, as you kan klearly see
to be a kurly letter the likes of letter “C”
that’s firmly in the middle, with no sound of its own.
Does “C” dream of being “S” when it’s fully grown?
For “The Letter C” prompt by Daily Inkling.
