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tufts of grass sit in the yard  
hairy green patches of tenacity
in a field of neglect
half a screen guards
a **** stained door  
where someone painted, 214
the pit sits behind it
waiting to be fed
or to be chained again
to the stake
where, like any beast
bound by gravity
and the grave, he
will make ceaseless circles,  
smaller  e a c h  day,  
unwitting sentry to those
two legged creatures
inside, who
with or without the pit,
lie prostrate,
in dreamless
bug rich beds    
when they fall from sleep
they too make circles
bound by their own
stakes and chains
that can’t be seen
but their pull is felt
and
their eternal rattle heard
no matter how far from home
the prisoners of tulip roam
DISCLAIMER: if you live at 214 Tulip, and you have a Pit Bull, this is NOT about your house
You know women
they go shopping
and they fill the whole trolley
overflowing
they never know when to stop;
they’re such exceptional shoppers

my wife’s no exception
and so I thought
I’d get her on to online shopping
(you know, using man’s intelligence
to beat women’s frivolity)
Will save me time and save us money,
I thought
But just as well, within the hour,
I had to enlighten her
about online shopping protocol:
“When the computer asks you if
you’d like another shopping cart
it’s a subtle message
you should stop”



Oh, why do I always get beaten?
....another joke for the silly season...based on an online joke....NO! NO! I absolutely deny it - this is not based on my real-life experience! NO! NO! NO!
Prologue
see, do you see?
Judy and Punch
are shopping
Like the loving couple they are
they are at it together

Action!
Punch puts in a carton of beer
into the trolley
And Judy hauls it out immediately
and puts it back on the shelf –
It’s too expensive, honey
says Judy.  $50 a carton, that’s too much money


Now Judy is in the “Beauty” section
and picks a Beauty Pack for $100
and Punch protests immediately:
That’s what’s too much money!

Oh, but you do want
me to look beautiful, darling –
don’t you?
says Judy, with a smile

Yeah, sweetheart,
but half the price
would have done the trick!

says Punch, with a counter-smile


Epilogue**
Now, what do you think
happens after Punch’s punch line?
Do you think Judy makes
the literal and the metaphorical merge?
Are the stars Punch sees literal
or figurative, you think?
...the final poem in this series on this silly season...I shall not detain you any longer with these tales, for we must all go celebrate...
He raided
     her hideout,
             found a collection:
           all stolen hearts,
        "What did she do
     with mine?"
    he wondered
     with anguish
           and pain.
    It wasn't there,
      no clue yet.
             * She pretended
                     it was with her
                           all the while.
I sit on this island                                                           ­                                                 I sit on this boat
             ill-equipped                                                     ­                                                   ill-equipped
 ­        How I got here?                                                            ­                                        How I got here?
             well... by ship                                                                                             ­     island trip...        
  
         I simply stare out                                                              ­                               I gaze upon the
                   upon the sea                                                              ­                            empty sea
             No ounce of hope                                                             ­                          All out of faith
                         left for me                                                               ­                     inside of me
          
                  I think of times                                                            ­                   I recall the time
                   away from land                                                             ­               earth so grand
                        My tears drop                                                             ­           Sobbing quietly
                         splash on sand                                                             ­        into my hand
          
                     Huh? What's that!?                                                           ­ Wait! Is it true!?
                                           could it be?                                            more than sea?
                                 Swimming, swimming                           Rowing, rowing
                                                          ­      hurriedly            steadfastly
                          ­              
                                                  ­                       SHIP!  LAND!
                                                           ­                    I'm free!
                                                           ­                         ...
Quick write... Hope yall's get it.
If she needs her plume
and her book, why would she seek
a critical look
Maudlin       mOOn,
    sitting                      all alone,
                                                          in a brooding
                                                           ailien  sky
                                                    ­                   lost
                                                            ­                in  the thoughts  of,
                                                   ­                        t                              
                                 ­                   s                                  a          ­              
                                                  ­                                                r      
         ­                                                                 ­                                  s,





                       ­                             starless sky makes her feel let down,
                                                     not even a piece of white cotton cloud,
                                                    she can't  even wipe the drops of tear
                                                            ­                                                t
               ­                                                                 ­                             h
                                                                ­                                               a
                                                                ­                                             t
                                                               ­                                           
                     ­                                                                 ­                         f
                                                               ­                                                   a
            ­                                                                 ­                                           l
                    ­                                                                 ­                                       l
                        ­                                                                 ­                                 
                                                                ­                                                        
        ­                                                                 ­                                                a    
                                                           ­                                                                 ­    s

  
                                                                ­                                                         d
                                                               ­                                                             e
  ­                                                                 ­                                                               w
­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­   d
                                                               ­                                                                 ­        r
                                                       ­                                                                 ­                 o
                                                               ­                                                                 ­           p
                                                               ­                                                                 ­           s
                                                              
                                             Over hills, dales, woods and grasslands, incessantly throughout the night.
"A poem is never finished, it is abandoned" said Paul Valery
  this one, from it's look is closest to his idea, I suppose.
 Dec 2012 life nomadic
Tom Orr
I wasn't sure what to make
of this intergalactic space war.
With flying soldiers in old tobacco tins
and bullets made out of fingers.
I took it upon myself, I suppose
to conscript to this chaos,
upon the fluffy terrain.
Some sort of tyrannous Tyrannosaurus,
with a purple top hat
had taken over the bunk bed fort.

I'd made up my mind.
The only thing for it was a straight "Neeeeee-owwwwwwww"
into the back of the villainous lizard.

My comrade in arms however,
felt I wasn't quite suited for this rampant combat.
Although, his reason I didn't quite agree with;

"You're doing it wrong" he said, rather patronisingly.

I guess my little cousin is less of the kamikaze type and more of the tactical warfare nature.
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