Today's Nonsense, 8/31/26

A ne'er-do-well villain named Joe,

Contemplating the death of his foe:

"I shall set him a trap

And he'll fall in, the sap"

But Joe fell in building it, so...

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/view-from-the-bottom-of-a-well-17054321/

Today's Nonsense, 8/22/26

Plant a tree

Kiss a bee

Sing like Michael Jackson

Hee!

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/whimsical-tree-art-in-autumn-forest-setting-31330006/

Morning Symphony

 

Today, I woke

To the cheery chuckle of the chickadee;

The cawing of crows;

The cardinal’s chirp.

The starlings scrabbled in garrulous gaggles

The geese honked overhead

A bluejay scolded, flashing by,

As I lay in my bed.

Outside my window,

The finches chitted

The sparrows twitted

The titmice titted

The mockingbird perched regally

Rendering his rambling repertoire

Warblers added their piping voices

And I thought, “Damn, that’s loud.”

Image credit:  René Lussi 

https://www.pexels.com/photo/great-tit-on-branch-with-spring-foliage-37164030/

To Those Who Plan to Take Their Lives

 

I know sometimes that death is accidental

I know sometimes that death, like love, is planned

I know the world can be so damn judgmental

But please remember love, and stay your hand

I understand you’re in a place of torment

A place that’s filled with pain, regret, despair

But surely there are those who really love you

No matter if you say that no one cares

Don’t keep the feelings locked inside forever

You’ll only find the comfort if you seek

Talk to your friends, your family, or your lover

You’ll find your problems aren’t all that unique

We all go through the very bleakest moments

You’d be surprised how much we’ll understand

We’ll be there for you, giving strength and caring

To save your life now, just reach out your hand.

If you are feeling hopeless and considering suicide, please reach out to someone. Talk to a friend, a family member, a counselor, or call or text the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 988.

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/man-in-black-shirt-and-gray-denim-pants-sitting-on-gray-padded-bench-1134204/

Promise Fulfilled: a haiku

 

Just one piece of mail

Today, but it’s the one that

I’ve been waiting for

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/crop-photographer-with-photos-and-camera-on-sofa-in-room-7014453/

My Low-Tech Laptop

I can take it anywhere

When I’m needing it, it’s there

It fits right in my pack

That I carry on my back

I can take it on a plane

With no dreaded scanner pain

I can use it on a bus

And nobody makes a fuss

I can drop it on the floor

And it springs right back for more

I can leave it in my car

It’s always safe from harm

Nobody tries to steal it

So light I barely feel it

It needs no source of power

Goes for hour after hour

All I really need’s a pen

And I’m set; alrighty, then!

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/notebook-in-sunlight-16404309/

Does It Matter?

 

My coworker’s girlfriend

Is such an enigma

“I’m never sure what she wants

I’m not sure she even knows”

The teen in my youth group

Has a crush on a boy at school

“I like him SO much, but

I don’t even know if he notices me”

We’ve all been there

Young love, first crush

Relationships we just can’t suss out

You know how it is

So, does it matter

That my coworker

With the problem girlfriend

Is a woman?

And does it matter

That the teenager

With the crush on a boy

Is a boy?

If it does matter

Why?

We all want the same things

We all feel the same things

Gay people are people

They aren’t any different

They laugh, love and give

Get pissed off and grieve

Just like “normal” people

Just like everybody

Who doesn’t want love?

Who doesn’t want love?

How can you hate someone who’s never hurt you?

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-couple-holding-hands-8732931/

Christmas Memory: Giving 'til it Hurts

It was the Last Reasonable Shopping Day before Christmas. That is to say, it was Christmas Eve Eve. You could certainly shop on actual Christmas Eve, if you were inclined to be desperate or insouciant; heck, the particularly intrepid might make a sport of finding gifts – however inappropriate – at the odd gas station open Christmas morning (“Look, Grandma! I got you a deck of cards and this month's issue of Custom Rides!”) But for most people, Christmas Eve Eve is it for Christmas shopping, and that's why Walmart was a madhouse.

But that's not why I was there. I take an extremely dim view of self-inflicted stress, which leads to my usually having the Christmas cards, decorating, and gifts dispensed with in an almost disturbingly prompt fashion. However, despite my reluctance to deal with the surging, spending masses, there I was, because I love animals.

I volunteer with a local animal rescue group that has a small shelter housing about a dozen cats. The shelter would be closed for almost 2 weeks over the Christmas holidays, and I volunteered to foster Paulie, a frantically affectionate Russian Blue, for the duration. I realized, though, since I was keeping Paulie separated from our own pets (the stress-aversion thing, remember), he would need some basic supplies of his own: food and water dishes, litter and scoop, etc. So: Walmart, on the last reasonable shopping day.

You can imagine the scene: parking lot jammed with lines of cars creeping toward the exits or hovering, vulture-like, for available spaces; shoppers, bundled and bustling, striding purposefully toward the entrance or exiting laden with purchases, and of course, the little red kettle of the Salvation Army, attended by a cherubic 50ish lady in a Santa hat.

It is very difficult to walk by one of those little red kettles without stopping to donate. You start to think as you approach, “If I stop to donate on the way in, will she remember when I have to walk back past on the way out? If I just walk past on the way in, will she think I'm a hopeless tightwad with no Christmas spirit, or will she assume I mean to donate on the way out?”

I reckoned that it's best to leave a favorable impression, so I decided to donate on the way out. Trying to look like I was definitely not skulking, I walked past the red kettle and the nice lady and into the store. After finding and purchasing the needed items with impressive ease (the folks at Walmart clearly saw the Last Reasonable Shopping Day coming and scheduled accordingly), I walked out the door and approached the kettle, whose motherly attendant smiled encouragingly as I groped in my pocket for a donation. I usually give loose change (because I actually am a hopeless tightwad), but today, full of the holiday spirit, I decided to pony up a dollar.

Unfortunately, my dollar bills were folded neatly inside my fives, tens, and twenties. My attempt to extricate them while still inside my pocket (to avoid showing the nice lady what I could be giving) resulted in several bucks fluttering to the ground underneath the kettle. Embarrassed, I joked with the lady about not being able to hold on to money while bending to snatch the bills before they became airborne in the winter breeze.

I retrieved the money lying underneath the little red kettle – which is made of metal, by the way – which is suspended from a red tripod, also made of metal – which is surmounted by a large Salvation Army sign that you probably don't even notice, because it's so well known who stands there ringing the bell. The sign, which you don't notice until you come up from beneath it after picking up your fallen money, is in a frame, also made of – imagine if you will – metal. I know for sure it was metal, because of the distinctive bonggg it made when colliding with my ascending skull. The sweet lady, aghast, put a comforting hand up to my head and murmured consolation. Making another lame joke about “giving till it hurts”, I stuffed all the bills in the little red kettle.

I can take a hint, after all.

Here's hoping you don't have to get the Christmas spirit knocked into your head this year!

Here's another story about when I was dumb: https://allsortsartbyali.blogspot.com/2014/12/philadelphia-is-as-you-know-or-may-at.html

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-man-holding-bell-3428095/

 

A Pair o’ Dactyls about Pterodactyls

 

Flippety Flappety

Big flyin’ reptiles

Once dominated

The skies over Earth

Paleontologists

Dig up the fossils and

Museum curators

Give ‘em a berth!

A dactyl (DACK-till) is a type of “foot” in poetic meter, composed of a long (stressed) syllable followed by two short ones. A more famous example of dactyl poetry than my silly ones above are Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, although they were written in Greek, so translations may not have this rhythm.

Robert Browning's poem “The Lost Leader” uses the dactylic rhythm to great effect:

Just for a handful of silver he left us

Just for a riband to stick in his coat

This helpful info came from Wikipedia! 

If you'd like to read more about dactyl poetry, click here, and please support Wikipedia, a not-for-profit foundation.

Image credit: https://pixabay.com/illustrations/pterodactyl-dinosaur-creature-8240037/

The Pasta Song

 

Sung to the Tune of “That’s Amore”

In restaurants where pasta’s served

You’ll want to know what’s on your plate…

When in your dish you spy

A cute little bow tie

That’s farfalle

When your pasta’s aswirl

Like a ringlet-y curl

That’s fusilli

Some are stuffed

Like a little puff

You can’t get enough

You’ll just love ravioli

Or that neat

Crescent made of wheat

Filled with cheese or meat

Can’t be beat: tortellini

If it’s long and it’s round

Like the tail of a hound

That’s spaghetti

If it’s long and it’s flat

Like the tongue of a cat

That’s linguine

Such appeal

Little wagon wheels

Make a happy meal

It’s ideal—call it ruote

And it’s nice

With a little spice

What a big surprise!

Looks like rice—but it’s orzo

Sometimes names are in terms

That are creepy, like “worms”

(Vermicelli)

And some others sound weird

Like the shape “little ears”

(Orecchiete)

But don’t worry what they’re called

‘Cause you know they’re good eatin’, signore

You’ll be feeling so boss

As you lap up your sauce

Past’amore!

Mangia, mangia!

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/set-of-bowls-with-various-types-of-pasta-6287348/

The Phantom of the Opera

He sees her

He wants her

He doesn’t

Know how

To get her

Her voice

So beautiful

Like a silver bell

How sweet that sounds!

Would she sing for him?

The way he is?

Oh no

She would not

She cannot

Know how

He longs for her

The phantom of the opera

Lurks in the shadows

He listens and loves what he hears

He will play for her

She will sing for him

Come closer,

Come closer, my dear

 Image credit https://www.pexels.com/photo/theatro-municipal-in-rio-de-janeiro-brazil-18072475/

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/

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/

Procrastination: A haiku

 

Yes, there’s stuff to do

Plenty of stuff, to be sure

...it’s just not fun stuff.

=====haiku is a Japanese form of short poetry that is comprised of three lines, in a 5-7-5 syllable pattern, usually with nature or the natural world as the subject. It is intended to challenge the poet to distill an observation to its essence to create the simplest, purest, and most powerful impression.===

Find more haiku here: 

https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2022/11/haiku-poems-for-fall.html 

https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2023/01/lights-of-new-years-eve-and-other.html

https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2024/05/haiku-battle-rap.html

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

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/

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

=====haiku is a Japanese form of short poetry that is comprised of three lines, in a 5-7-5 syllable pattern, usually with nature or the natural world as the subject. It is intended to challenge the poet to distill an observation to its essence to create the simplest, purest, and most powerful impression.===

Find more haiku here: 

https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2022/11/haiku-poems-for-fall.html 

https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2023/01/lights-of-new-years-eve-and-other.html

https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2024/12/procrastination-haiku.html

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

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

 

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/

You Are Invited to My Halloween Party!

 

Come to my Halloween party

Wear your vampire cape and sash

We'll eat little bat-shaped cookies

And do the Monster Mash

I'll make some fizzy green punch

That looks like a slimy swamp

We can pass out Groucho glasses

And dance the Zombie Stomp

We'll pull apart some cotton

Hang cobwebs everywhere

Put streamers on the ceiling

And pumpkins on the stair

It will be so very festive

An orange and black delight!

Please come to the lovely party

I'm having on Halloween night

Come dance at my Halloween party

I'm hiring a zombie band

They promise to behave themselves

And to not eat anyone's hand

The witches that live across from me

Have said they'll bring a cake

I'm pretty sure it won't have frogs

But we do live near a lake...

I had to invite the werewolves

If not, they'd raise a din

If you play any party games with them

You should probably let them win

Dracula's coming at midnight

Bringing his brides in pairs

The Invisible Man might show up, or not

(Depends on how much he wears)

Frankenstein's monster will be there

If he can get off of work

It's tiring getting chased around

By peasants with pitchforks!

He'll need a draught of fizzy punch

To chase away his gloom

He'll eat some bat-shaped cookies

And stagger 'round the room

So, come to my Halloween party

I think we'll have some fun

But to be safe, maybe you should buy

Silver bullets for your gun!

Image credit:https://www.pexels.com/photo/halloween-decorated-room-5435182/

Another Halloween poem you might like: https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2022/10/bad-halloween-for-creature.html

Other Roads

So many places I've never been

Roads continue on

All these houses, filled with people I will never know

An endless supply of humanity

An endless ribbon of road

I circle aimlessly, but with a goal

To see these places I've never seen

To see where the endless road goes

It's getting dark

Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/house-against-sunset-sky-in-evening-4558442/