Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ogdiddynash Feb 17
no, not a political divide crossed.

no, not switching fandom to the
hated other crosstown team,
with the clownish bobble head

once a meat eater, a meat eater
for life.

stolidly, boringly straight, waaay
too late
to switch that side.

the switch referred to herein is more
profound, straining boundaries of a
decades long term relationship.

I desire  to switch sides of the bed we
sleep on, after decades of habit, that
transferred with us when we traveled,
moved etc. To each Our Side was the
Natural Order of Things, a higher law,
immutable, constitutional and ranked
higher than the Ten Commandments.

over time, my side sank beneath the
excess weight of growing old with
bad lifestyle habits…a bad back, an
aging frame, core muscles that seem
to have been decored, made a new
firmer bed a necessity,

when we called 1-800-Mattress, we two
social security retirees, were shocked,
shocked! at the hole in our budgets
such an expenditure required.  We would
be forced to survive on bread (brioche)
and water (Pelligrino) for weeks, our only
condimentable affordable would be margarine,
a pseudo butter made in chemical factories.

so, she refused.

I sank into deep despair, for who could deny
her finger pointing “J’accuse” where responsibility
for this truly lay (lie?).

marriage counselors demanded exorbitant premium
prepayments, Medicare said ha ha, and United Health
Care was united in their ***** opposable *******
but eloquent “Mais Non!”

As I write this, Climate Comservationists have confirmed
my sinking side is now receding at a rate of 4 cm/year.
The implicit implication was at the Great Melt Flood of 2050
that was coming to sink us, I would not be quietly floating down
the Hudson River out to a South Pacific isle, but would join Jason Bourne in the green crystal clear waters of the nearby East River, but unlike Jason, I can’t hold my breath for twenty minutes, ergo and ipso facto, I am doom-ed.

So I have started a GoFundMe to obtain a new airy mattress  capable of variable soft/hard differential setting on each side, with an inflatable air pumping gizmo just for the end of days.

Thanking you in advance and be assured lol your contributions will remain not anonymous.

Yours, Extra, Sincerely,

Ogdiddynash (Ogdiddynatsch)
the reason why my name has a variant spelling is because some in our family Americanized our Germanic uprooted spelling when
we came ove on the Titanic
ogdiddynash Feb 7
exactly how white do I want to be?*

came to terms with my whiteness some(many)times ago,
yet, the dentist mixes in, an offer to refresh my yellowed
pearlys who’ve served admirably long, so sure footed,
long in the tooth…so to speak

surprisingly, this puts me off guard, uncharacteristically

exactly how white do I want them to be?


the scale is as follows (intermediary levels are complicated)

1. Taylor Swift Bright

10. Cowardly Lion Old Yeller

and shades in between, I’ve grown accustomed to to my smile, which is closest to the Lion’s accreted usage and
wear and tear, and decide to stay as is, to keep my body
in a state of synchronicity

Doctor puzzled, “why do I smile?”

Why Doktor!
you’ve commissioned a poem,
and now know why your License Plate
declare you as Dentist so boldly,
You have the power to end racial strife,
uniform the populace with bright headlights,
and clearly should be allowed to proceed
posthaste to any and all life threatening

but my preference is to display many decades
of failure, irregular brushes, periodic flosses,
my natural color, my god-given grace, and who
am I
be empowered
to disturb the natural order of human
perfectionism schematics, for
to every season, every human being,

is a color unique!
ogdiddynash Jul 2023
con-none-drum-roll please

why do “people” wear
really short ,
really tight, skirts,
then spend the rest of the day

tugging repeatedly,

on an invisible schedule,

to con us into lowering
the temperature
in them
overheated classrooms?

ogdiddynash Jul 2023
i am a slow dawner,
sometimes it takes a moment
or a day or even a daze,
till I realize that an insult
flung my way though it
didn’t latch on immediately

as her ears are in perpetuity
plugged with apple earbuds,
it is always a surprise when
she acknowledges me in
real-time and when it is a subtle
insect sized insult, it oft goes
steathily around me like a lion in jungle,
stalking its less than observant prey,
wing aweem away, right past me!

so when in a momentary open ear status,
I inform how nice it is to hear our actual
conversation, she adroitly respondez-moi
(en anglais)
with the title of this poem…
ogdiddynash Jul 2020
she inquires why I write so many poems,
easy comes reply:
It gives me a fantastic living,
it makes and gives, each poem,
a calculation, a reconciliation
of who I am...a miner of the
mineral wealth in my veins
ogdiddynash Jun 2020
woman asks a why-oh-why

seeing that tears are rolling down
old poet’s face as we transverse
these United States,

on I-80, Heading to San Francisco,
over the George Washington Bridge,
commencing in Teaneck, New Jersey,
2,906 miles, not including getting lost.

Are you sad for any reason particular?
Are we lost already?

weeping for my country, for with every mile,
see amity and wisdom disappearing,
out the open window,
both by wind taken,
both forsaken,

our route is clear,
but I see what
I most fear, we are not lost,
but my country,
our poor country
everywhere good people,
desperately seeking mercy now!
Mercy Now
Mary Gauthier
My father could use a little mercy now
The fruits of his labor fall and rot slowly on the ground
His work is almost over it won't be long, he won't be around
I love my father, he could use some mercy now
My brother could use a little mercy now
He's a stranger to freedom, he's shackled to his fear and his doubt
The pain that he lives in it's almost more than living will allow
I love my bother, he could use some mercy now
My church and my country could use a little mercy now
As they sink into a poisoned pit it's going to take forever to climb out
They carry the weight of the faithful who follow them down
I love my church and country, they could use some mercy now
Every living thing could use a little mercy now
Only the hand of grace can end the race towards another mushroom cloud
People in power, they'll do anything to keep their crown
I love life and life itself could use some mercy now
Yeah, we all could use a little mercy now
I know we don't deserve it but we need it anyhow
We hang in the balance dangle 'tween hell and hallowed ground
And every single one of us could use some mercy now
Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Every single one of us could use some mercy now
ogdiddynash Jun 2020

phasers on full,
having violated
someone’s human rights,
prepared to be eliminated.

on trial for a continuance
to keep on breathing,
gave a summation speech:

an untitled poem
is a diamond with
a single imperfection,
casting shadow doubt
on the flawlessness of
a huge finger rock

it’s an angel without a halo,
it’s a cat without any claws,
it’s a ice cream sundae sans cherry,
it’s a rudderless ship, no captain,
it’s rock ‘n roll without **** Jagger,
country with no Bonnie or Jolene,
female songwriters with no Adele

it’s a woman you’ve met on a train,
falling in love, instantly, whimsically,
she says I love you too! but there’s
no profit in it, no chance of success,
leaves without leaving her name

it’s a poem without a directive, a legendary,
imperfect perfection without a signpost pointer,
it’s the only loving worth having, that when lost,
unforgiving, the thousandth cut, so when she asks,
“forgive me?” your silence chokes, you cannot reply

incapable of completion,
you’re un-entitled,
you’re untitled,
a blank,
nameless as well

^ feel free to substitute man, it makes zerodifference.
ogdiddynash Jun 2020
you write of dismembered leaves,
pains too sweet,
using incontrovertible idiocies like
quiet rain, droplets shining like sunlight,
edible goodbye cheerios,
tastes that burn eyelids colored in
blood stained mustard yellow,
the gladness of sadness,
reversible rivers flowing heavenwards,


dechambered hearts, ventricular mysteries,
brains wearing wooly sport jacket helmets
and others, more weirder too,
wonderfully inexplicable,
other jimmy olsonian beauties,
non-lexical non-commonsensical
ecumenical hysterical
chemical verbal reactionaries,
and then you wonder why,

ogdiddynash Jan 1
The P Propensity

this benighted dishwasher,
is familiar with the
P Propensity Theorem,
seeing as he
(think grizzled, unshaven guy in the back of the restaurant cleaning plates)

invented it

the need to solve
for the need to P,
while undertaking prep
for the great dishwashing,
is mathematically soluble:

N, the number of ***** dishes
D%, the variable percentage of how *****,
           (necessitating pre-scrubbing, or not,)
M, the meal, breakfast lunch or supper,
  (a modifier of N)
Ba2, bladder age squared)

if P = N(D%) {M_}
    b  [where M1 is breakfast, M2 is lunch etc.]

is >1,


better get
an adult diaper
Next page