Saturday, December 21, 2024

The Miracle of Completion: A Christmas Poem

 


‘Twas the week before Christmas, and I sat here, amazed;

I thought I’d be busy; I thought I’d be crazed!

But if you can believe it, all my stuff has been done!

Not one thing’s unfinished! Not one single one!


The cards were done early,

Shopping was a breeze,

The gifts are all wrapped up as neat as you please.

But the thing that amazes and shocks me the most

Is—well, I don’t want it to sound like a boast—

But: The portraits are done! Every single last one!

And that last one, a pastel, it really was fun!


There was one of eight people—parents, cousins and nieces

(I worked from a pic that was falling to pieces)

There was one of six ladies who all work together

From three different photos; I wondered if whether

I’d get them all finished—it made me perspire!

I figured I’d run it right down to the wire

I’ve done that before, and it’s really not fun.

But I’m happy to say that MY CRAP IS ALL DONE!!!


Image Credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/figurine-of-a-painter-with-canvas-19402508/

Sunday, December 15, 2024

A Poem about Penguins (And Other Important Stuff)



Penguins are black, penguins are white

Penguins are groovy and outtasight.


Penguins swim in the deep, cold sea

Penguins are friends to you and me.


Penguin babies are fluffy and cute

They’ve got grey feathers and little black snoots


So, buy a hybrid car today

Before global warming takes the penguins away

‘Cause if we keep driving SUVs,

There won’t be penguins,

Or birds, or bees


We’ve got to do something to save the planet

‘Cause I wanna keep the penguins, dammit!



Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/flock-of-penguins-standing-on-dirty-ground-4169866/

Saturday, December 7, 2024

Procrastination: A haiku

 


Yes, there’s stuff to do

Plenty of stuff, to be sure

...it’s just not fun stuff.





Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-boy-leaning-on-his-crossed-arms-at-a-wooden-table-5303548/


Sunday, October 13, 2024

We Will Have Our Time: Horror Flash Fiction

 


He had not been expecting a letter. He had written so many to her, and maybe in the beginning he had hoped for a response, even a form letter, but there was nothing. Well, she was busy; already 15 films and countless television appearances on her resume, and she had made it to the highest pinnacle of the A-list. She must have millions of fans, all writing to tell her how beautiful she was, how talented, how entrancing.

And yet, even though his letters had so much competition, he knew they would stand out to her; they had an undeniable connection, the two of them. He could feel it the very first time he saw her, in a scene from her first big movie. It was like she was looking right at him, speaking only to him, not to the so-called leading man who would only abandon her, both in the movie and later, in real life. She had looked so gorgeous and innocent, standing on a hilltop overlooking the ocean, her pale skin luminescent and her cascade of strawberry-blonde curls limned in the golden light of the setting sun. It was the perfect movie setting, but he knew they would one day be back at that very same place in the real world, together. We will have our time, he knew, and he signed all of his letters to her with this assurance.

It must bring her comfort to know that, he thought, because she had been having some trying times, lately: the breakup of her marriage to that Hollywood “golden boy”, the loss of the baby, the press hounding her for all of the intimate details of her life. He ached to provide a safe harbor for her, and he knew as soon as he received the long-awaited sign from her, he would be ready to take her to that hilltop overlooking the sea, where the sun was golden at sunset and the breeze blew gently. He would take her in his embrace and they would fall together, dropping through the welcoming water into the next world, where they would be together forever in love and happiness. He had related this wonderful scene to her in detail in the last several letters.

He looked around his dingy apartment, which was already beginning to fade from view, to be replaced with the lovely green grass, the gentle, salt-scented wind, her shining hair and sparkling eyes, the feel of her slender, warm arms encircling his waist as they stepped into eternity together…the sign from her had come; he was holding it in his hands even now. He fancied he smelled a faint scent of her perfume on the paper. Because of all the unwanted attention, she had chosen to disguise the letter as being from a law firm, but her name leaped from the page to his eyes immediately. The words “cease and desist” and “stalking” tumbled before his sight; they were meaningless jargon to cover her true message from the prying eyes that were everywhere. This was the sign!

He ran excitedly to gather his things for the trip: The street address of her home, complete with directions and satellite and street images, all provided by the trusty internet. He had also obtained her itinerary and was able to work out her schedule, as well as the information he needed about her security detail. He didn’t want their first meeting to be disturbed. He imagined how she would look, stunned at first, perhaps, that her message had brought him so far so quickly, then relief and delight would wash across her lovely face as she realized that she was finally safe and complete, with him.

We will have our time, he thought, finally!


image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/black-and-gray-rocks-and-body-of-water-3084567/


Sunday, May 26, 2024

Haiku Battle Rap



It's only haiku 

If you write in a special 

Pattern like I do 


It doesn't need to 

Rhyme, but I'm skilled so I will 

Ensure that seen to


I'll school all of you

Poets, come on and let me

Serve up your loss, boo


Photo by Mwabonje Ringa: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-holding-microphone-performing-on-stage-1460032/

Saturday, May 11, 2024

The Seven of Spades

Seven warriors in black armor

The spear is their weapon of specialty

They respond to the call of their sovereign:

Protect the kingdom!


Riding out in the light of dawn

They are a scouting party against the massing enemy

In single file they travel through the Narrows

Their captain takes the point


If he is struck down, his cadre has orders

Two will flee

The swiftest carry the message

The stoutest stay and fight


Defend the messengers!

Avenge the leader!

Die bravely, die fighting

Never die for naught.


Approaching a ridge in the evening gloaming

Darkness crawling across the moor

Nothing all day for the reconnoiter

Then at the ridge top, the heart drops


Fires of the camp dot the plain

Reaching out for miles, it seems

Glowing sparks of death, of defeat

Terrible, beautiful, terrible


Below on the slopes, they spot a chance

For a small raiding party to make a difference

The general's tent!

The captain locks eyes with his knights


Attack quickly, quietly

Strike the head of the beast,

The heart of the invasion.

We will die trying.


Two will stay

Someone must observe

Someone must report

The swiftest carry the message




 

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Hotel Room of Doom



The carpet smells funny
The AC's a joke
It grinds and it wheezes
The drapes smell like smoke

The sheets, cheap and scratchy
The blankets are pilling
I so need to sleep, but
My eyelids aren't willing

The trucks on the highway
Make windowpanes rattle
And upstairs it sounds like
A Civil War battle

The people are screaming
The furniture's moving
Are they fighting, or is it
Something else that they're doing?

I've finally dropped off
Then, MY GOD! What's the matter?
The bedside alarm goes off like a bomb!
Some joker has tuned it to in-between-stations
Then turned up the volume to an ear-splitting wail
And set it for ten minutes into my slumber

The obnoxious jerk should be rotting in jail
And I should be home, sawing some lumber
Instead I'm stuck here, with my brain getting number
As I try to count sheep; there they go, nose to tail

Then AGAIN with the clock-alarm blasting at me!
I'd only hit "snooze" in my stark desperation
I turn on the light, but my sleep deprivation
Renders me null to suss the combination
That will silence the thing; so in my frustration
I rip out the plug, realizing too late
That I could have just turned the volume way down
If ever I have to stay again in this town
I might as well sleep on a sewer grate!



Photo: https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-in-gray-long-sleeves-lying-on-a-bed-6951529/