Cringeworthy
A dripping tap, a creaking hinge,
the very sight of a syringe,
running short while on a binge,
well-meaning friends whose words infringe
upon my punch line, or just a tinge
of sarcasm in a response can make me cringe.
But none of these can quite unhinge
me half as much as when I singe
or cut too short my forehead fringe!
If I ever ignite my hair on fire over a birthday cake or let them
cut my fringe this short again, just shoot me!
The prompt today was cringe.
Thought I’d have to do this job myself, but Pasiano took over immediately and did a beautiful job.
Loop de Loop
Every little hole drilled, every little loop
helps attach the walls for—our new kitty coop.
They’re tired of the inside. They want to get out.
They’ve got cabin fever—I’ve not any doubt.
They’ve taken over all my house—bathroom, sala, kitchen.
So many handy spots to hide while they’re mama-ditchin’.
They pulled down all my CD’s and ate my bird’s nest too.
So many great high perches. Always something new.
But mama’s running out of time. She has too much to do
to spend all of her time running this temporary (?) zoo.
Some outside time is what we need—these 4 kittens and me—
a little outside running place will set all of us free.
So Pasiano’s attaching walls over the side gate bars
to protect the kitties from dogs and speeding cars.
Although escape to the big world I’m sure they’d find sublime,
we hope the napa palms are too slippery to climb.
The particle board is all installed. The kittens in fresh air
leap and climb and hide and play. They find it lovely there.
They don’t answer to their names, their naming is so new;
They are Kukla, Fran and Ollie and the white girl we call Roo.
Will the big cat come to visit, or perhaps a frog or two?
That would give them other interesting things to do.
As for me, I finally have some time to do some writing
with nothing climbing up my leg—scratching, mewing, biting.
Kittens are so precious, a constant fun delight;
but I can’t be petting kittens every hour—day and night.
They had two inside places. Now they have an outside other.
No one can tell who likes it most—the kittens or their mother!
Olie and Roo have a wonderful time rolling in the dirt, playing with palm fronds and trying to climb the slippery trunks of the trees. So do Kukla and Fran for a half hour or so, but . . .
soon I could hear their piping little “mew mew mew”s. They’d climbed between the bars and were begging for me to open the sliding screen to let them in. Within minutes, they were curled up in separate drawers in the bathroom, as was Ollie. Soon, only Roo remained outside, asleep in the sun, where she still is two hours later!
I would have shown you many more photos, but alas, my computer drive is full again and I can’t download any.
The prompt today was loop.
No Spammers
Welcome to my life, my dear. You’re most welcome to meddle
if in fact you do not have anything to peddle.
I do not want insurance or stocks or Ponzi schemes.
Such obvious exploitation is not the stuff of dreams.
I do not need more objects to set upon a shelf
unless what you are peddling is simply you, yourself.
Emoticons are not my friends. Skip LOL’s or memes.
Such mass communication avoids intimacy, it seems.
Spamming should be limited to sandwiches or plates.
Such sins of modern culture are things this blogger hates.
If you want to seduce me, drink to me with thine eyes.
Do not use the pickup lines used by other guys.
A sincere sense of humor and intelligence will do.
All the modern gimmicks are what you should eschew
if you seek to impress me and win my heart as well.
If you want your just desserts–sales pitches will not jell.
Only sincere affection and perhaps a winsome smile
will win you that devotion which cannot be won by guile.
The prompt today was meddle. (Image downloaded from the Internet.)
Attracting Notice
Where she should bulge, she seems to taper,
so when her tailor sought to drape her,
he had to stuff with rags and paper
in an attempt to reshape her.
But alas, this futile caper
ended with not a singe gaper.
The word prompt today was taper.
This little fella has graced the dash of every car I’ve had in Mexico for the past 16 years. Soon he’ll have a new home.
Five Days after the Accident
I am infused with happiness—the most I’ve felt for days—
and hereby I announce that I have shed my dormant phase.
Since my poor car was murdered, I’ve been in isolation,
but now it seems I’m free again and feeling great elation.
I went five days without a car, just stayed at home to heal
while friends did all my shopping. One even brought a meal!
But now I can get groceries, take Morrie for his grooming,
rested from five days at home. Relaxed from all this wombing.
Now that I’ve got wheels again, I have no need to fret.
Simply alive and mobile is as good as you can get!!!
The prompt today was “infuse.”
Morrie at the Beach
Everywhere he wanders,
everywhere he goes
is a place to stick his
curious little nose.
Birds are drifting over,
hundreds at a time;
yet his nose is stuck in
something more sublime.
Aromas are his poetry,
scents to him are words.
He has no time for looking
at these air-bound birds.
Even when they’re floating
nearby on the sea,
He only has time lately
for odors and for me!
What to many is simply a bad odor can be fascinating to others. I am so curious about what Morrie can detect as he sniffs everything on the beach!!
Reincarnation
Two things of value that are fleeting––
life and love both set hearts beating.
Both sadly lost by types of cheating:
one by libido overheating,
the other just by unwise eating.
Once over, though, both bear repeating.
The prompt today is “temporary.”
Regional Differences
They joked about their names. His name was Johnnie, she was Frankie.
It’s true that she was beautiful, he handsome, tall and lanky.
He was a genteel southern boy, while she was born a yankee.
Every time she looked at him, her heart went a bit wanky,
but the slowness of his courtship rites was making her most cranky.
For though she appeared shy, at heart she was a trifle skanky.
As he contemplated holding hands, she dreamed of hanky panky!
The prompt word today is cranky.
I just noticed that they’ve reinstated the stats page that shows readership of blogs country-by-country. I always enjoyed it and so I was very happy to see it back again. Then I started to notice little blank spots that indicated countries where no one has ever read my blog, and of course my obsessive side took over. The result is this poem. This happened once years ago with Greenland and eventually they caved in and someone viewed my blog and even commented. Of course, it was a Filipino who had moved to Greenland, so I am aware of the fact that native Greenlanders still resist my charms, but it took care of that big gap on the map, so I’m happy. But! What about all those stans? Does no one read English there? Is their taste too impeccable to give me even a chance? Clearly, something needs to be done, so if you know any stans that you can toss into my blog begging cup, please help. Have I been at this too long? Is it time to stop and find a less public obsession? Well, we will see. At any rate, here’s my plea, in rhyme, as usual:
They Do Not Like Me In Mongolia
They do not like me in Mongolia. My blog they are not reading.
The advice I give that they might need, I fear they are not heeding.
The Russians do not snub me, nor do the Turkestanis,
But I see that I have zero stats for Turkmenistanis.
They enjoy me in Samoa and endure me in St. Kitts.
The folks in Montenegro just love me all to bits.
But why won’t they read me in Uzbekistan, I wonder?
I’ve never once insulted them. I’d not make such a blunder.
Tajikistan might like me if they’d give me a chance.
Just ask my faithful readers in Great Britain and in France.
It’s true my knowledge of where Kyrgyzstan lies is most hairy,
and I can only spell it if I use a dictionary;
but still, why won’t they read me? They could have a look and rate me.
And if they noted what my blog is lacking, educate me.
For a year there were no stats that showed us views country by country,
and so I didn’t suffer from the shame and the effrontery
that there were countries missing from my readership
who are surely suffering from lack of leadership
in how to train a Scottie with fifty percent success.
and how best to deal with the chaos and the mess.
How to avoid chocolate, at least one day in ten.
How to post too many pictures of everywhere I’ve been.
I’m expert in so many things that, really, they should know,
so if you know folks in these countries, please be sure to tell them so!
Note: Let’s see if the Eastern block countries will have a little compassion and cave to our pleas.
And since stats are surely a measurement of readership, this post works for the Daily Prompt as well!
Remember when the Saturday Evening Post had a feature entitled “The Perfect Squelch” that featured a different perfect comeback every issue? Well, then, you must be as old as I am.
Spare Tire
My blind date worked out most sublimely.
First of all, it was most timely,
for my ex had told me he
would be there with another she.
I waltzed in regally well-armed
with date both handsome, rich and charmed.
His tux immaculate, his dental
work just out-shined by his mental
acumen. He quoted Proust!
So when my ex came up to roost
on a chair next to the mirror where
I was perusing my form and hair
and said we made a lovely pair;
I answered, “Him? He’s just a spare.”
He poked my middle, then tweaked my nose.
“Well then, when your spare tire blows,
they’ll come in handy, all those guys.
Or, you could simply exercise.”
“Timely” is the prompt word today.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 