Monday, October 28, 2013

My Little World

In this corner I call my home
my world
its piled with laundry
and projects undone
but my kids are fed and homeworks
getting done

I don't have time to properly write
cuz Im sharing thai and sharing time
doing dot to dots and waiting for something to rhyme

I don't have a  mansion nor do I have a permanent home
but I have more than four walls and two kids
four goldfish and a cat
playing hungry hippos is where its at

except we lost our marbles
the cat stole them away
the fish are perky
which makes me happy
cuz last week they were bloaty and swimming sideways

the plants are all dead but its winter
and that's my excuse
for dirty boots and holes in my shoes
and for this rhyme that doesn't really rhyme at all
for wooden robots are making the call

got me a sideways glance
kitty cat feather boas and power ranger pants
yea not really its a shirt
but that last line rhymed

doing dot to dots
making six's and drinking tea
laced with whiskey that's for me
balancing the checkbook is at times
easier than balancing life
cuz ya don't have money
zero minus zero equals nada

nada is a fine word
I want to make it equal something
really absurd
like its code for a trillion
or gazillion
that's what I have

your best friends your five year old
it seems anyway
for everyone else has gone
on this fine day
that's ok by me
for five year olds are awesome

they dance to tunes and laugh at your jokes
roll on their bellies and  pull at ropes
bells chime and they are afraid of the dark
so they cling to your sides
and grab you by the skirt

in a sweet way with little chubby hands
covered in chocolate and smirky mischievous grins
tucked away at home
home sweet home
that has more than four walls
and isn't much of nothing special
except its mine and code for castle

Thursday, October 24, 2013

The Remains

At end of day
all that is remaining
are the remains
and they are cold

sent to dust
and dust we must
push under until all that remains

are the remains of the unknown
a ghost to us
a whisper of a thing
lingering about us
as the dust would

and it is cold
all of it
each piece particle and dust pusher
ghost of a whisperer

the breath that escapes is the coldest
it lingers in a cloud just at forefront
at the lips of a whisper
that are iced over and daggered

the breath that escapes just freezes
the words in clouds
the clouds a puff that wafts off

the ghost has a visitor
that follows and plucks
plucks the words out
and pockets them

to be saved and spent
in whispers
in conversations
in pleasantries
that unfreeze the ghost

that pluck at the strings
that bind and hold
and finally escape into air
bristling with excitement

cold has not caught on here
in this cloud of excitement
that lingers about the visitor
that whispers in smiles

plucks and skips along
drops a hint here and there
of mint
peppered and strong

takes your will and drags you along
happily in bristling excitement
into air pure and clear
whispered gently in your ear

come along my dear






Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Berry and the Boot

She saw him there
the man in the boots
she noticed they were shiny
in a healthy way but not in a new boot way

She looked upon them because she could not look upon him
As she sauntered up in a slightly perplexed way
she couldn't help but notice the boots did gleam at her

She fell down before him
flat on the ground on her stomach in a offering sort of way
and buffed his boots with her hair and sweat

She swayed and slithered this way and that
perplexed and wanton but virginal yet

It was then that he took notice of her
laid out flat in a wanton way perplexed and all that
virginal he did know and yet
he couldn't help but noticing that
her hair and sweat
did gleam at him

It shone radiant in fact
it left him perplexed and wanton
not really virginal and yet

He gazed down upon her
in this way
dirt and sweat
did come upon her in such a way
that virginal did not suit her at last
Her head bobbed back and forth
like a berry on a branch

He popped it proper with his shiny boot
as it slithered there and that
that is was
a berry
ripe and pretty
laid out in front of him
like a perplexed heathen cat

with juices ripe and rippling so
he gathered himself and did go

his boots so shiny
they gleamed in the night
beckoning to wanton heathens
virgins and such
but in the end just popped them without thought
ripe ol heads
berrys
nonsense and such