Month: February 2019
Story Of Our Lives #126
Story Of Our Lives #125
Derelict Windows
Sectional
Rooftop Watchers
Ram Jam Bam A Lam
Crooked Paths
Frosted By The Water
Morning Roofline
LOL 2
Another poem – this one’s about laughter itself.
Laughs Like Potato Chips
Laughs are like
potato chips
you can’t eat just one
Ha is not as infections as haha
or hahahahaha…
You can’t have tee without the hee
or teeheeheehee
It’s harder to grin
from one side of the mouth
easier with both
If you laugh without sound
you’re in very much danger
so wheeze, grunt, snort or chuckle
laugh until your weak in the knees
If the belly stopped after one shake
when it shakes with laughter
you would die
lots of laughs
are better than one
and laughing out loud
is better than death
Observe The Observer
LOL
There is a long proud history of bawdy humor in literature of all types including poetry. I’ve decided it’s time I give it a go at low brow humor.
Body Music
Farting is the sound
of the body’s marching band.
Its trumpeting brass,
thunderous drums, and
the delicate squeak of the clarinet.
Gaseous humors
released from within,
expelled with force or
slipping out through the cracks
in a hissing wind.
Grand multi-sensory experience –
whether earthquaking, embarrassingly obvious
or silent and deadly;
a bowel-shaking satisfaction
will always make you smile.
Polite society is no place for me.
Let the face bunch up in laughter
and let the ears tingle.
LET IT RIP! (and of course)
pass the nose-plugs please.
for more laughs….
http://mentalfloss.com/article/52419/11-literary-fart-jokes
Incohesive Reflections
Inspiration In Unlikely Places
My ears tingle from
the klatter and klang
Sturm und Drang…..
orchestra of rust
….. in…..
A concert hall of corrugated steel
over block walls
under a steel frame roof
blown by the wind
in a symphony of sound,
a joyful noise unto the Lord
The abandoned temple of industry
a holy shroud
baptized by peeling paint
once wet… shiny… new…
now cracked and broken
hardened by life
dry… damaged…
decay from neglect
a slow discard of memories
….. soon forgotten…..
Now the doors are thrown open
“Free Admission!”
“Welcoming All Worshipers!”
a gathering of misfits, undesirables and homeless,
insects, rodents and birds…
the garden within.
The heart finds redemption
in this arcane recital,
hallowed and profane
within the unsuspecting shell
… of shadows and shades.
Degrees – Factors
HAIKU on love
Two butterflies
encircling each other
love’s in the air
Construction As Sculpture
the forgotten valentine
THE FORGOTTEN VALENTINE
Hearts and candy
Baked goods, cards and flowers
A saints holiday,
… the saint would not recognize.
Pagan cupids,
fleshy child-like innocents
with winking mischief,
ready with arrows and bow
to slay the expectant heart.
…… while other hearts
go unfulfilled
longing for companionship
like dry ground longs for rain.
… and winged cupid’s
in their flawed judgement
fly by… mocking
… saving their arrows
for the select few
and not the ones in need.
Concrete Patterns
Laundromat
LAUNDROMAT
Chattering women
gossip pretentiously
each is right… each is self-assured of her rightness
even if they do speak in the tongues of angels
ignorance and distance.
I, huddled in the far corner by the door
recently propped open by a newcomer
transporting her laundry from car to machine
unaware of her effect on others
Cold winter air flooding around me
chilled to the bone
impatiently waiting
unable to escape
trapped in my domestic duty.
In 07minutes I will be able to carry
the cold, damp, freshly-washed garments and
deposit them into a warm dryer
to tumble and fluff then fold
and afterwards,
finally, leaving for the quiet solitude of home.
Angling For A View
Branching Out In The Morning
Breadcrumbs & Stars
Autumn Streams
How cold is it?
WINTERS COLD
Winters cold lunges
clasping onto the unwary passerby
winters icy grip claws furiously
looking for any weakness
The traveler, wrapped in soft cloth
armor of futility
shuddering and struggling to keep out
the frigid beast
Winters cold, unrelenting in its search
finding exposed skin
like a wild animal, shakes it’s prey
tearing and biting the blood-filled shell of life
The traveler….. gasping, heart beating rapidly
slowly stiffening as the last vestiges
of warmth reluctantly flee
the beast boldly triumphant
….. until…..
The traveler ducks into an open door
homes welcoming hearth & warm familial remedy
the winter beast rears up wounded and repelled by warmth,
releases its hold then roars into the night
searching for a new victim
[in memory of the bitter cold of almost two weeks ago when temperatures here in Akron, Ohio literally rivaled those of Antarctica especially when factoring in windchill]
Above The Plain
a wonderful video
Award-winning writer and photographer Teju Cole talks about – and reads from – his work of photography and texts, ‘Blind Spot’, which sprung from a period of semi-blindness: “So this is a book about the limitations of vision… when we’re looking at the world, there’s so much that we’re missing.”