Cuckoo

A couple of years ago I posted a few little poems about bird names and how they are applied to humans.  Here's one I forgot to post.

Cuckoo

Foolish and crazy and silly,
Running about willy-nilly.

Inertia

I
Never
Even
Really
Try
Instigating
Action

Midnight Mess-making Marauder

Another pantoum, with a few liberties taken in the last verse.

The Midnight Mess-making Marauder   

March 30 2013

Everyone should be asleep

When it's the wee hours of the morn

But someone's feet begin to creep

As from sleep his body's torn.

When it's the wee hours of the morn

The marauder's mind is still on snooze

As from sleep his body's torn

Toward a path marked "Sure to Lose"

The marauder's mind is still on snooze

As he sneaks through the kitchen door

Toward a path marked "Sure to Lose"

Unaware of what's in store

As he sneaks through the kitchen door

He makes a plate of midnight snacks

Unaware of what's in store 

When the chow-devil attacks.

He makes a plate of midnight snacks

From whatever he finds handy

When the chow-devil attacks

It could be rice, it could be candy.

From whatever he finds handy

He neatly piles his plate

It could be rice, it could be candy,

Alas, it always seals his fate.

He neatly piles his plate

He spills half upon the floor 

Alas, it always seals his fate

As he heads back out the door. 

He spills half upon the floor

He puts the plate upon the shelf

As he heads back out the door

Completely happy with himself.

He puts the plate upon the shelf

Still loaded up with eats

Completely happy with himself

For being so dang neat.

Still loaded up with eats

The plate's unfound for days and days

For being so dang neat

He sure is locked into his ways

The plate's unfound for days and days

The situation's now routine

He sure is locked into his ways

One never knows the morning scene

The situation's now routine

What will I find when I arise?

One never knows the morning scene

As I wipe sleep from weary eyes

What will I find when I arise?

A kitchen tidy, clean and neat?

As I wipe sleep from weary eyes

I search for his latest feat.

A kitchen tidy, clean and neat?

A hidden danger lurking near?

I search for his latest feat

A great disaster's what I fear.

A hidden danger lurking near?

Hark! someone's feet begin to creep

A great disaster's what I fear

When everyone SHOULD be asleep.

Remodeling 2013

Remodeling 2013     

Another pantoum with repetitive lines.  I do like this style a lot.  I find it challenging and satisfying.


Remodeling is fun
Excitement and change
Till the day is done
Things are being arranged

Excitement and change
All around me I see
Things are being arranged
It makes me happy!

All around me I see
Workmen coming and going
It makes me happy
Seeing progress showing

Workmen coming and going
Lots of noise and dust
Seeing progress showing
Is a remodel "must"!

Lots of noise and dust
Till the day is done
Is a remodel "must"!
Remodeling is fun!



                                                               

Mid Stream

                                                                 

 Same View After

Now I'm Sixty-Four

Now that I'm older, hairs on my chin, wrinkles on my brow,
Will you say I need a face lift right away, and hearing aids, like, YESTERDAY?
Now that my hair is silvery gray, my eyesight sorta poor,
Will you berate me, or will you hate me, since I'm sixty-four?

You are older, tooooooooo!
And, if you say things wrong,  you won't like what I do.

Will you suggest I wear ortho shoes or carry a cane?
Dye my hair and get new teeth and join a gym, get my waistline dandy and slim?
Jog every day and get a boob job, and never ever snore?
Will you berate me, or will you hate me, since I'm sixty-four?

Every summer I could rent a condo
On the Big Island, where there's all that sun.
Or go to Pareeeeeeeeee!
Florida, Japan, and Spain, all are calling me.

Is a makeover just what I need?  Eyebrows plucked and neat?
Special classes just for me in pilates, new hips and of course, new knees?
If those are your thoughts and wishes for me, there is the front door...
I could be much older, and oh so much colder, instead of sixty-four!

Tell Me Your Story

For Aunt Delva

Tell Me Your Story

August 21, 2012

Someday when I cross over 

To that great Someplace Somewhere

I want to find you waiting

In your hard-earned glory there.

Your life was full of sadness

And tragedy and woe.

Your life was full of troubles,

How much I do not know.

But now all that is over

And now your ears can hear

And now your soul is mended

And now your mind is clear.

I want to know your story -

The life you had to bear -

When I cross over someday

To that great Someplace Somewhere.

Tale of Abuse

My niece posted a video on Facebook of a woman showing how to apply makeup to cover bruises caused by an abusive partner.  It inspired me to tell my own story.  In 1974 I was married for a few short months to an abusive man.  This is definitely not a "little ditty", and not humorous or poetic, but every word of it is the truth.





A squeeze on the hand...that's how it started. 
A hard squeeze, almost crushing, that left my hand bruised for days. 
"Ah, he just doesn't realize his own strength!"


A strange slit in the aluminum cake pan.
"Were you mad at something when you cut yourself a piece of cake?"
(Sheepish grin on his face.)


A punch on the arm when I said something he didn't like.
Speaking a little too close to the truth brought this out in him.


Another punch on the arm. And another.


"God, please make him have a car accident and die."


The vacuum flew by me and made a big hole in the wall.
"God, PLEASE make him have a car accident and die."


An unopened can of Pepsi thrown at my chest so hard the poptop flew open.
Pepsi everywhere, and a bruise as big around as a grapefruit in the center of my chest.


I asked myself, "Do you want to live like this for the rest of your life?"
I answered:  "No, absolutely not."


A call to an attorney and the Sheriff's Office.  


So grateful that the house and the car were mine.  So grateful that I had a good-paying job so I didn't have to depend on him.  So grateful my children were mine, and not his.  So grateful I didn't wait till God answered my prayers the way I wanted.  He doesn't normally kill people like that, and I didn't have to have it on my conscience.  


I wish all abused women could get free as easily as I did.


But mostly, I wish abusers didn't exist.


"God?  Are you listening?"