Posted in Imagination, Poetry

Just One of Those Nights!

Yes!

It was just one of those nights.

Just one of those terror-filled frights.

A Tall Man for sure…

lurked over my bed.

Oh my,

the fear!

Oh my,

the dread!

***********

And so I lunged up in bed

threw a mean punch

at his head

and just

flew out of the bed!

Hit the stand!

Hit the floor!

Oh! Yes!

Who could ask for anything more!?

Posted in Poetry

Stillness Falls!

Stillness falls

memories fade

lost … forgotten dreams.

************

Times of love

times of joy

vivid memories

even schemes.

************

But love was lost

now fleeting times

how hopeless

it all does seem!

************

But when

I see you smile again

my eyes swell

with joyful tears!

************

And the little things

again flood my mind

and quiet my gnawing fears.

************

Yes!

I’m back again

to that magical time

where it all began.

Oh dear!

*************

But ever so quickly

it slips away

and again

stillness and sadness fall.

************

And the memories fade

and the dreams disappear.

And I’m lost again.

I fear!

Posted in Poetry

She’s Always an Hour Behind ⏰

There’s whispering.

There’s Pam.

Those pesky emails and calls

which are mainly just scams!

There’s

a spinning fan

a strange

knock at the door.

There’s

three ducks in a row

doing the Can-Can.

And yes!

When she asks

the time

she’s always

an hour behind!

Is it eight o’clock?

No dear.

It’s nine!

Is that evening?

Or is that nighttime?

No!

We’re on New York

not Chicago time!

Oh my.

There’s Pam.

There’s whispering all the time!

That spinning fan.

And yes!

Those ducks

doing the Can-Can!

But now

she’s always

an hour behind!

Like

her

sagging

backside?

No!

Like

her sagging

behind!?

************

Me?

I like

to be

an hour ahead.

That way

I always know

where

I’m coming from!

***********

Wait!

If she’s an hour behind

and

I’m an hour ahead!

What time is it really?

Oh the dread!

Posted in Art, Poetry

Really Wise? Or Otherwise!?

They’re mainly from New York City

the suburbs

the Northeast.

They walk, talk, and even gawk

sound funny when they speak.

They look sour

like to cower

are smug

oh so grub

and waddle

half awake

or

is it half asleep?

They constantly judge

carry a grudge

and

are

arrogant

superior

“What is their beef?”

Wise?

Worldly?

Oh Yes!

Maybe!

But mainly

I do fear

for all to hear?

They are just

smart-ass

retired

Wisenheimer’s!

And even former

‘lost the thrill’

Two-Timers!

Of them

and

even me

do I speak!?

For the above reasons

in the ‘land of one’ season

I again speak!

Yes!

Just because?

No, no!

No indeed!

Just

for Otherwise!

Posted in Poetry

Aloud Conversations With Myself!

Why do you talk aloud to yourself?

Maybe cause nobody else will listen!?

************

When my wife isn’t saying, “You said Pam! Who is Pam?” She is asking,”Why are you whispering?”

And apparently she never links the two.

Like I could be whispering to Pam!?

But no Pam, I fear!

Is my whispering just an echo of my advancing years?

Am I going crazy even though I’m not lazy and I do walk 4 to 5 miles a day.

So I looked it up. And by God, we all talk to ourselves constantly in our heads. And we all at times even talk aloud like we ask over and over again,

“Where’s my car?”

“Where’s the remote?”

“Where’s my damn keys?”

But talking aloud to yourself is not necessarily a sign of the crazies. No! Just the opposite you see. Maybe a sign of intelligence.

Golly Gee Wilikers! I’m so happy!

Believe it or not!? Do some research and you may see!

So feel free to talk to yourself

in your car

in the shower

and especially on the commode, home alone!

But do so as not to be obviously seen by the people that surround you.

And never ever can what you say be interpreted as being a ‘Damn Pam Word!’

**********

“That’s not nice!” My wife did just say.

By the way!

……

pssh…pssh…pamssh…!

Posted in Art, Poetry

That Damn Cat on the Backyard Fence!

The cat in the sac

the cat in the box

the cat who seems to think he’s a fox.

The cat in the hat

or scurrying across the floor.

The cat that likes to crash into the kitchen glass door.

The cat on his comfy pillow

that thank God

does dutifully use his litter box

as opposed to the floor.

The cat that likes to slumber.

The cat that goes ape shit

at the unexpected sight of a cucumber.

The cat that plays with and kills birds, mice and other furry things for sure.

The cat that would even kill me

if I were short, short

and very close to the floor.

Need I continue?

Need I really say more.

And finally!

I have rarely seen

anything more creepy

out of this worldly

even make me feel squirrelly

than that strange,

seemingly deranged,

damn spooky cat

on my backyard fence!

************

Quoth the Very Dead Raven, Nevermore!

Pixabay.com

Posted in Poetry

What’s It All About … ?

What’s it all about, postie?

Are you just a letter carrier

or

maybe a precocious kid

scribbling away on the skids?

Yes!

Is it for the brief thrill that you live?

What is it all about, postie?

To find true-blue followers

bask in their comments?

To earn some fame

believe your funny

even make some money?

Or better yet

briefly savor wild honey?

Be admired

even remembered

in the annuals of blogging history,

hopefully not dismembered!?

Remembered as a postie

with the mostie?🥴

Yes!

What is it really all about, postie, postie?

If not really to just live, love, learn and kid?

And lastly

to impart

leave a mark

in somebody’s heart

with a sprinkling of your own personal

foxie moxie?

And what is that loony cartoony all about!?