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M-E Jul 2018
In a sea of eucalyptus trees
With my niece
Playing hide and seek
Or telling her a story
About a wolf beaten by a sheep
Or just being silly
Singing a song on a funky beat
I can’t forget her pearly eyes
Gleaming in happiness
Like dancing bees
It reminds me of something
In the deepest part of my being
My free spirit, my inner-child
My old days of innocence
I cherish it for every moment and every time
How fortunate I am
Mary-Eliz Apr 2018
I usually don't know if
I'm coming
or going

(but I still can't
make this
into
one!)
Silliness!
Tori Mar 2018
…Love of mine (sigh, sigh)
I must confess I simply haven’t the time,
To take your willing heart so ready for mine…
The truth is a story to tell!!!
I DON’T WANT A LIFE OF HELL!

Relationships…(sniff, sniff)
Have a tendency to break and slip,
As little bothersomes saw and chip,
At emotions once dressed up as love
And I have HAD ENOUGH!

Twenty years…(oh dear)
It’s all it takes to make a belly of beer,
As my FIFTEEN children scream in my ears!
I can practi-cally he-ear the sound!
of YOUR Spawn running around.

Unequally yoked…(cough, choke)
Words describing how I married some bloke,
Now we’re living in a trailer quite broke,
My Gray hairs ******* in a bun!
Ain’t the future fun?!
Heart of Silver Mar 2018
I can be very empty-headed
Yes, I'm pretty dull
but I should like to think there's bubbles in my skull


Constantly blowing, floating
little ***** of light and color
Oh, these bubbles, I hope we're not
separated from one another


And perhaps I absentmindedly chase
silly, pointless bits of air
but wandering out my head, I'm pretty happy there

They're bouncing and bouncing
from bone wall to bone wall
Joyous bits of air- I wish to capture them all!
Brent Kincaid Nov 2017
Some people say I’m crazy,
They call me a total nut.
They say I’ve lost my mind
That I don’t know what’s what.
That I am beyond cuckoo.
They say I’ve gone insane,
That I am in a very bad way,
That I’ve got you on the brain.

I’m just in love
It’s a kind of lovely madness.
It is insanity
In a very lovely kind of dress.
It affects everything
Makes me lose my train of thought.
And I do it gladly
Whether or not I really ought.

Other people don’t see
That I hear you in every sound.
Those people have their rules
On the feeling I have found.
They are understanding
If it’s a round of golf or a car,
But this is how I really feel
No matter what their feelings are.

Some love their money,
The massive expensive houses
And some like to cheat on
Their unsuspecting loving spouses.
Some like to belong to
The most exclusive memberships.
I must prefer to listen
To the sound from your lips.

I’m just in love
It’s a kind of lovely madness.
It is insanity
In a very lovely kind of dress.
I affects everything
Makes me lose my train of thought.
And I do it gladly
Whether or not I really ought.
Brent Kincaid Nov 2017
I’m as happy as a billionaire
Counting money in his vault.
I’m as silly as a circus clown
And it's surely all love's fault.
I’m as ***** as a diplomat
Who doesn’t know his facts
And still runs his mouth off.
But that’s just how I act.

Being in love is making me
Act like I have lost my mind.
I’m not crazy, I’m in love
So, please everyone be kind.

I keep on giggling and I know
People think I’ve gone goofy.
There’s a huge smile on my face
And I”m quite sure I look loopy.
I babble like a fool on drugs.
And skip and dance instead of walk.
I’m sure I sound like a big dope
And make no sense when I talk.

Being in love is making me
Act like a bull goose loon.
It’s a pleasant kind of madness
I hope it's not over soon.

Everything looks good to me
When seen through eyes of love.
I like rain and sunshine and all
The gifts from high above
As well as the joys one finds
Just walking through the day.
It’s not my fault, I do insist.
Love has made me this way.

Being in love is making me
Act like I have lost my mind.
I’m not crazy, I’m in love
So, please everyone be kind.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2017
Cars so close together
You can count their middle fingers,
Horns honking everywhere
Traffic is like an urban bomb scare.
People just don't know how to drive.
It's a wonder how they can survive.  

Tooting and beeping,
The human brain is sleeping,
It looks like, by and large
Lizard brains are in charge.
There are no cops around;
They’re in another part of town
Policing those who feel they need
To smoke that evil devil ****.

Meanwhile traffic does it's thing,
Increasing daily suffering.
It's part of what it means to be
Alive in today's society,
Driving hell bent like it matters
Leaving peace of mind in tatters.
Rush hour traffic is what is wrought
Like a bad cold the earth has caught.

You can’t avoid it altogether.
It’s like Twain said of weather.
You can talk about it every day
And do nothing about it either way.
So maybe not have everyone at once
Hitting the road like a silly dunce.
Couldn’t the employers take a clue;
Change their schedule an hour or two?

Maybe some would think it great
To start their journey hours late?
Some could go now and some then
And wait hours, then begin again,
The next batch could be on their way
And start out having a good mood day.
Or maybe we could all stay home
And leave the rest of the world alone
Arlene Corwin Aug 2017
A/The/My Way (redone)

I never knew I had a ‘way’.
And still it shows up day by day
Laws but felt, themes unmeant;
Through sudden fountains of content;
Through many offshoots but one road,
No signposts to direct or goad.
Still it is:
A kiss of fate though non-insistent,
Usually
An accident and serendipitous.

And because, and just because it is a whisper
I’ve no choice
But to
Tune into
And obey,
Swaying to its hinted push,
The glint of pressure
Nothing but a pure, faint sureness
And a pleasure.    
            
Minutes past I ate three plastic plates of pasta.
Forgive this frilly, dilly of a joke.
I can be such a silly yokel
With punch/pun-ny lines that hit my funny bone(s).

Now I sit with pen in hand
On my verandah, in the wind,
Thankful for not understanding
Karma’s muted law un-grand,
Inscrutable but suitable
To me alone - one on her own
Within the actions and concerns.

A/The/My Way 8.6.2017
Pure Nakedness; Revelations Big & Small; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II;
Arlene Corwin
wise silliness
Samuel Hoffmann Jun 2017
I want to write a poem,
I just don't know what to say.
I could tell you about my day,
Or about the bed upon which I lay.
I could tell you about neighbors next door,
Or all about the girl I adore,
But, alas, that might bore.
I could be depressing and sad,
I could be happy or glad,
I could talk about my mom and dad.
I could think and dream and speculate,
Or possibly spark a long debate,
I could go on and on and contemplate.
I just want to write a poem,
And don't know what to say.
enjoy and share, or don't --whatever you want.
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