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S R Mats Oct 2024
I have a monkey on my back!
I pour it into my coffee cup
I give it a sip and a smack.
It is white and dreamy,
Oh, so thick and creamy
And yummy fluffed up.
I simply cannot get enough.
I'm up to at least 2 cartons a week
Do you think they have an Anonymous
For that?
S R Mats Oct 2024
I glanced out and there he was
Sleeping like a bug in a rug
On the hard cement ledge.

Where has he been, my homeless man?
Hospital, jail, a shelter for a change?
I was just getting accustomed to him gone.

But there he is once again in my purview.
Oh, the drama, to see a being always sleeping.
How could he have caused me such worry.
tongue in cheek
S R Mats Oct 2024
When you crawl into a bed of roses
you get up close and personal
with the lovely flowers and their smell,
but you also get scratched, bloodied and torn
by the thorns. It cannot be avoided.
We must let love apply the medicine
and help us heal.
S R Mats Oct 2024
You are not above the truth,

You cannot wrap it up in lies!
Your lizard brain blisters inside
And you will split and peel soon.

It will be soon too late for you to hid
You’ve fooled yourself to your demise
And almost took us down, too, dude.

But your fools will be there, too,
To keep your insane self company
In da prison 4 da criminally insane.
This is a bit of a stinker but it is cathartic.
S R Mats Oct 2024
There are always haters
With solid deep seated hate
Willing to step up to use their hate

Inside, without true origin, it resides
It is a hate for the sake of hate

Make no mistake it is on both sides
It is that type of hate that now drives
And haters desire to get on the ride
S R Mats Oct 2024
He comes to visit; I never know when.
He enters and takes me by the hand.
He leads me where I may not know
But I do not fight it as onwards we go.
Sometimes we travel fast, sometimes slow.
At times it is amazing, other times so-so.
My man, Muse is my dearest friend.
S R Mats Oct 2024
Honeysuckle weeks
Filled with humid heat
Where the hot Texas sun plays
And I know where to seek
What it is that hang, unsung,
On an old broken fence rung.

I, in my bare feet,
Reach in, pluck a vine to retreat
Into the cool dense shade
Among the pecan grove, hid away
To sit and harvest drops
Of the sweet liquid inside.

As skilled child harvester, I sit,
Slightly pinch the blossom, then stop,
Free the flower from stamen with a slide
For Summer’s ephemeral gold drops
Unseen treats one only can get
During honeysuckle weeks.
Before any of my British cousins that it let me say that Honeysuckle Weeks is one of my favorite British actors.  I absolutely love her name.  Do y'all have honeysuckles?  It is a Southern "thang" to get the sweet water from the blossom and drop it onto your tongue.
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