Lady bug on my kitchen table , are you attempting to solve some sort of mathematical equation ?
Are you in contact with the heavens above ? Are you trying to let us know ?
You may be the key to one of mans greatest riddles , then again you may be simply looking for a place to spend the Winter ..

There was the first look,
     It snapped by in a second;
There was the second look,
     It was alluringly fecund.
Like reading page one again
     On the face of a friend;
Don't close the book,
     Take a second look.

Chillin like a villian
listenin to dylan
writin and thrillin,
as long as the good lord's willin

Sweatpants & a ponytail,
chillin with no make up on.
Cos' it's like my hobby now

Camo sleep pants
led zep tee
drinkin cold ones
and groovin to youtube

Watching scream queens
on netflix.
Texting & trying to figure out
what's next

Keying thoughts
onto my notebook
thinking hard about
a late night snack

Chillin like a penguin
cos' its freezing cold.
Wishing I had some hot coco.
Trying stay up late.

Toasty warm
inside my room
to step out for a smoke
would seal my chill

Chillin' is amazing.
I got the chills,
feeling like a cold hell
Wolf Spirit Poet is amazing

Chillin, blazin
mind **** amazin
oh these nights
dreamin and lazin

What I want
For Christmas is
Just the barest
Of necessities

All my teeth
Not just two
So when I eat
I can chew

A skip and jump
Back in my step
So each morning
I have some pep

A pair of glasses
Which self defrost
A set of keys
Which don’t get lost

All my hair
Put back in place
So I don’t have
That barren space

A pair of shoes
With self tie laces
So I don’t have to
Reach those places

A set of arteries
That don’t plug
A nice cold beer
Which I can chug

To have someone
My brain equip
With that new fangled
Memory chip

So it can tell me
My intent
When I stood up
And why I went

A bunch of prunes
Which are pre dated
To work just when
I’m constipated

A gizmo that will
So to speak
Turn off my wee wee’s
Little leak

So I don’t have
I’ll just be blunt
Those little dribbles
In the front

A cork that fits
My *** hole, please
So hemorrhoids don’t pop out
Whenever I sneeze

A longer arm
That would pass
Behind my back
To wipe my ***

On this I’ll end
My little list
I don’t want Santa
To get ******
BOEMS BY JA 103

Sign outside a restaurant:
Today's Special:
*YOU

Get drunk any morning you like
or afternoon or evening.
Enjoy unlimited naps.
Never be a wage slave again.
Take up knife throwing.
Don't worry about climate change,
you'll be dead before you have to swim.
Learn to juggle just because you can.
Become a Professional Poet.
Forget the difference between night and day.
Get discounts on **** you don't need.
Squeeze the taxpayers for all you can get.
Never help anyone move again.
Stop worrying about dying young.
Act the curmudgeon; people expect it.
Revel in hypochondria; any pain could be terminal.
Begin every sentence with "Back in the day..."
Remember: there is no 'future,'
only the 'near future.' Act accordingly.
Don't worry about getting drafted.
Constantly forget what day it is.
Say "I'm too old for this ****" often as you wish.
I've forgotten: did I mention the unlimited naps?
  ~mce

They say God’s got a girl for every man,
But where are You?
Will I meet you when I’m old and frail?
If so a dreadful waste.
Or maybe I’ve already let you slip
Between my fingers.
Fear of Commitment
Might have done its worst.

Ever the Lone Wolf
I seem to be.
A confirmed Bachelor
Running free.

My love of Star Trek says it all,
I’ll not be going to the ball.
The only ball I want to see
Is on Match of The Day: on my TV.

Seems I’ll never be a *******,
Too busy being a reader.
More to the point I’m one of those Writers,
No time for those little blighters.

So I’ll soldier on each day,
Living comfortably on my retirement pay.
Writing my stuff and drinking my whisky,
Good luck to those who’d rather get frisky.

Paul Butters

I woke up early
and took the wrong purse

I wore the wrong shoes
my skirt did not match

I grabbed the wrong book
its pages glued shut

I missed the last stop
then ran, didn't walk
but made a wrong turn
at the end of the block

the sign was deep red
I pretended to stall
and traced my steps back

the rain came down violently
I began to cry
in a quaint little shop
always checking the time

He came in and sat
we drank coffee and talked
I laughed my eyes dry

When he asked for my name
I thought of my mom
and kindly declined
just then he was gone

Everybody wonders
why I never walk and
my skirt doesn't match