Keen observations
Of a restless mind,
Every day a possibility
What will I find?
Will I trigger imagination
And inspire another?
Oh, don't count on that
Were the words of my mother.

Ad-venturous lover
Of quality living,
Ad-ministers humor
Gentle, forgiving,
Ad-ult on the surface
Ad-olescent at heart,
Ad-ditional statistics
Ad-vanced at the start.

Ad-monish me not
Ad lib, ad hoc,
Add hours if possible
To my daily clock,
Add time to experience
Ad-orable gal,
Ad-junct to good fun, this
Ad-hesive pal.

Adventurous responder
What an admirable reply,
My adrenaline is flowing
In an adequate supply,
Admittedly adroit
In administering rhyme,
I advert that this concept
Is advanced before its' time,
So in respect, I will adjourn
This ad nauseum decree,
And extend my gratitude
Your kind response to me.

A-ttractive, alluring
D-iverse in your scope,
V-ivacious woman
E-xciting I hope,
N-ew age contender of a
T-raditional gauge,
U-nderneath, very feminine
R-egardless your age,
O-pen and honest
U-nbelievable, but true,
S-uch are the ways of the adventurous you.

An anonymous name
On a platform of minions,
I like it that way
I care not about opinions,
I'm not socially adept
I don't seek your approval,
I think that I'm harmless
So I don't need removal.

I can't paint pretty pictures
Make gifs or do coding,
I can operate the mouse
And occasional downloading,
But I know how to type
And run a good rhyme,
So I can spout my opinions
Any old time.

I sat upon an anthill
The ants were not amused,
They called me inconsiderate
I was threatened and accused,
When I discovered my grievous error
I leaped up to apologize,
Brushing my clothing vigorously
Much to their surprise.

I discovered sometime later
Ants are very clever,
They will sneak inside one's clothing
Like a military endeavor,
A nibble here, a nibble there
A crawling sensation in my hair,
Getting their revenge
For disturbing their home and lair.

Ants are devious
That's for sure,
Tea tree oil was
The cure,
A lesson was learned
For future use,
Be more careful where I sit
To avoid ant abuse.

I got a shot of hope
And man, did it hurt!
I bled so much
It soaked my shirt,
They told me, sonny
You should be so glad,
Back in the day
It killed your dad.

There's a light at the end
Of the tunnel, they say,
A lot of groovy metaphors
Are thrown our way,
And plenty of guilt
To help us cope,
Now, please take a number
To get your shot of hope.

At the river
I fantasized,
If you fell in
Your boat capsized,
As you swept away
I would leap or dive,
Doing what I could
To keep you alive.

But what if I pushed you
To create the disaster,
I would swim to your side
Swifter and faster,
Than the turbulent waters
To save you from harms,
Just a devious way
To get you into my arms.

I could say you weren't breathing
And place my mouth to your lips,
I could listen over your heart
And palpate your hips,
I could do all those things
With an innocent guile,
But would you knock me out cold
Or let me see your sweet smile?

At the river I dreamed
As the water streamed by,
No need for me to explain
Why I awoke with a sigh.

I met up with an old friend
Our paths in life were differently diverse,
And yet our personal sufferings
Were of a blessing and a curse,
We shared our life stories
Each was astonished by the other,
And when we said our goodbyes
I thought, “Safe journey my brother”.

My baby had a Tesla ride
This week,
She said it was oh-so comfortable
And suggested that I should take a peek.

I compare a luxury car like that
To the ownership of an iPhone,
Which I have never learned to operate
Even for hours alone.

She passengered in a Tesla
Saturday and Sunday,
From the gleam in her eye
It must have been a fun day.

And I'm hearing the story
As we're riding in the bumpy truck,
She has a habit of getting her own way
With a smile and a kiss and her own good luck.

My baby wants a Tesla
But I know it’s not for me,
It’s like buying a thoroughbred
And man, they’re not free.

I went to the bank
To deposit some money,
And fell head over heels
With that bank teller honey,
With long auburn hair
And a fabulous smile,
I didn't want to leave.....
I wanted to stand there a while,
I was just another customer
Of one hundred that day,
But this one is different
I wanted to stay,
I've got the bank teller blues
I have to save some more dough,
So I can go to the bank
And bask in her glow.

I went to the bank
To get some more cash,
I broke the speed limit
And the hundred yard dash,
But I wasn’t prepared
To see her again,
I was a ten watt bulb
And she was halogen,
Her brilliance, her beauty
I was thunderstruck in awe,
My legs felt like lead
My brain made of straw,
I’ve got the bank teller blues
Yes, my interest is high,
I need to deposit some love
Before I break down and cry.
 
I went to the bank
For another transaction,
I’m under a spell
A magnetic attraction,
Every night when I sleep
It’s a repetitive theme,
There’s a bank teller beauty
Inside of my dream,
I wake up light headed
Wondering what it is I drank,
And an overpowering urge
To get down to the bank,
I’ve got the bank teller blues
On my mind all the time,
With monetary issues
Getting harder to rhyme.
 
I went to the bank
I had to talk to the boss,
He’s making a profit
Now it’s time for a loss,
Because I’m going to withdraw
His bank teller today,
My compound interest
Is starting to pay,
No longer will I need
To hide my love in the closet,
My bank teller beauty
Will take my deposit,
I studied the art
Of managing money;
No more bank teller blues
Because now she’s my  honey.

I was taught a new game
By a delightful creature,
She called it "Blend In"
It has an imaginary feature,
I was instructed to pretend
That my eyes couldn't see,
When this delightful little creature
Was right in front of me.

Could she be a Hummingbird
Or a magical fairy?
How she became invisible
Was a bit scary,
And as I looked around
Not seeing her at all,
I'm sure I heard giggling
Perhaps she makes herself small.

Goldie the cat
Played along with us too,
Goldie understood
Exactly what to do,
Take a nap in the grass
To be covered with leaves,
Goldie is magic
That's what everyone believes.

Oh, finally the fog
Was lifted from my eyes,
After searching high and low
And twenty-five tries,
Lifting rocks, moving branches
Checking closets, one, two, three,
I found Cee Cee the pixie
Right in front of me.

Blend In
Is a jolly good game,
You need magical thinking
So it's never the same,
Each time you go looking
For the enchanted creature,
But listen for giggling
It is a prominent feature.

Emily
That woman, she took my blood,
When I swooned
I fell with a thud,
Awoke light-headed
Like a spinning jenny,
Not only my blood
But the blood of many.

Emily
Caught my eye at first,
Before I understood her thirst,
No, I won't argue
She was really cute,
I needed to see her....
I was resolute.

Emily
Looks so young, that kid,
When I came to donate
She had the highest bid,
And now I'm drained
I guess; good to the last drop,
Emily, I begged
Oh please, don't stop.

Emily
So caring, she held my hand,
After I swooned
I could no longer stand,
I was laid on the gurney
And they lowered my head,
I was too weak to grasp
To pull her onto my bed.

Emily
She stood to the side,
I caught a little smirk
Plus a wink and I sighed,
Knowing she tried to drain me
I guess I have a good taste,
She whispered in my ear:
"To the last drop; I mustn't waste".

Emily:
She held my hand
And squeezed my finger,
Though poised with a lance
I wanted her to linger,
Because her look of concentration
Displayed her finest features,
Then she speared my finger
Oh my; what a creature.

Fair skin and beauty
I couldn't ask for more,
Oh yes, vampiric women
I surely adore,
And when that drop of blood came
There was a smile on her lips,
As I pondered the future
With the sway of her hips.

Sure, this is but a fantasy
Of my dusty imagination,
Securely embedded
In juvenile infatuation,
I'm the first to admit
I'm stuck at age fourteen,
Be that it may
She's the blood chick queen.

Only every eight weeks
Can I donate whole blood,
Not like the old days
Nothing else, I'm a dud,
Not platelets and plasma
In one single session,
Thus, whole blood it is
My singular expression.

I'm worried you see
If I pick the wrong day,
Eight weeks from now
Blood Chick might be away,
Off on a boat trip
Or skiing at Vail,
She won't be here to comfort
Her least favorite male.

Stalkers and such
We get a bad rap,
I'm just donating blood
Like Corona on tap,
Not the best of all beers
But I might save a life,
And face it, I'm not looking for
A replacement wife.

But I would like my Nurse
To be you know who,
Emily of course
And not number two,
Because that one doesn't care
If she misses my vein,
No, she's an iron maiden
When it comes to giving pain.

Emily, my vampire
Is gentle with blood,
She smiles and giggles
And says I'm a stud,
Meanwhile I am drifting
Near death in a slumber,
And in my dream she told me
Her special phone number.

Emily, by far
Is the cutest vampire,
I'll ask for her hand
After I retire,
Her gentle attention
Doth drive me wild,
Although some folks whisper
She looks like a child.

From what I've read
Vampires don't age,
In today's society
That's all the rage,
A fountain of youth
Awaits at my door,
And if she'll give me a bite
We will be forever more.

If I could take away your pain
I would do it in a hurry,
I'd place it in a *** of
Sautéed porcupine and curry,
Then I'd feed it to the scavengers
The beggars and the thieves,
Whatever the outcome of my efforts
I assure you, no one grieves.

If I found a box of answers
I would give the best to you,
For all your loving care and kindness
You most definitely are due,
Rewards for all the suffering
You took from those who crossed your path,
A box of answers, for your troubles
And the most soothing bubble-bath.

Down at Mary Lou's,
There's a Venezuelan *****,
I'd have married her at 16
If we were south of Mason Dixon,
She's as sweet as cotton candy
She's a Venezuelan fox,
She has all the right ingredients
To be unorthodox.

Down at Mary Lou's
There's a Venezuelan momma,
She looks hotter than Hell
And knows nothing of Obama,
She has a way with coffee beans
A special way to grind,
The brew so stimulating
Oh baby; What a find!

Down at Mary Lou's
There's a Venezuelan beauty,
She blends outstanding coffee
And she really is a cutie,
Whenever I stop by
I feel her Venezuelan heat,
I get an overwhelming urge
Just to have a bite to eat.

Down at Mary Lou's
There's a Venezuelan girl,
She makes the finest Latte'
With a little mocha curl,
Her steam is hyper-pressured
Milk frothing to a frenzy,
I think I'll wait outside for her
To perform an apprehenzie.

Down at Mary Lou's
There's a Venezuelan dame,
She prepares an awesome beverage
While I play a little game,
It’s called watch the Coffee Maid
Tamp the grounds and make some steam,
Oh, this Venezuelan Coffee chick
Is an old man’s sweetest dream.

There's a Venezuelan princess
Down at Mary Lou's,
If I had done the hiring
She's the one I'd choose,
Her charisma is intoxicating
Her aromas even more so,
And when she wears that skimpy T - shirt
I'm just nuts about her torso.

Down at Mary Lou's
Things are heating up,
I keep dropping in for coffee
At three bucks a cup,
And while I'm on the subject
Regarding a Venezuelan Barista,
If she isn't available.........
Might she have a sista'?

A vacation too short
But the views were **** good,
Thanks to a Venezuelan beauty
Preparing coffee as one should,
I'll return again a year from now
And stop at Mary Lou's,
Will the Coffee chick come back again?
If not I'll sing the blues.

I have to tell you truthfully
That I enjoyed our meeting,
It was more than just the coffee
And the cookie I was eating,
Your friendly personality
And forthright point of view,
Left a pleasant sort of aftertaste
When I said goodbye to you.

All in all, I left our meeting
Knowing somehow this event,
Wasn't such that in the future
Its occurrence, I'd repent,
Instead, I felt a smile
Commanding my attention,
Imagining a rendezvous
With adventurous intention.

This beautiful daughter
Now five and 30,
She hates to sweat
And doesn't like *****,
Her collection of clothing
Fills closets in our house,
And she will definitely scold me
If there is a rat or a mouse.

Just waiting and waiting
For my doctor to come,
The clock ticking quietly
Like a perpetual drum,
Louder and louder
It seems to me,
Death sits in the corner
Inconspicuously.

I just want acknowledgment
Though I know the replies,
There's no rhyme or reason
When somebody dies,
Yet even the dying
Deserve some respect,
Death sits in the corner
He's here to collect.

Before my doctor arrived
To say good day,
Death stretched out its hand
And took me away;
I know why my physician
Wouldn't come near;
Death sat in my corner
And challenged his fear.

I have always allowed
Distractions to rule,
I'll blame it on teachers
In finishing school,
Apparently, they didn't bother
To finish me right,
So I'm easily distracted
Every day and all night.

My mind jumps around
Like a hare on the savanna,
Imagine monkey's in the jungle
Chasing a banana,
No better description
Comes to mind (because it's hopping),
If I was my daughter
I would solve this by shopping.

Maybe that's why
She has a closet full of clothes,
Her bank account is empty
After paying through her nose,
For her overpriced trinkets
And fashionable frillies,
Because her mind skips around
Like a lab-rat eating chillies.

Once again proving
How distractions are my actions,
My mind is an amusement park
With a zillion new attractions,
Like a traveling circus
With its rodeo clowns,
Entertaining all the rubes
In the sleepy border towns.

I thought that I might sometime see
A dog betrothed unto the flea,
A married match that some might think
Was consummated in a blink.

Alas, alack it didn't last
That marriage ended really fast,
The flea took blood, the dog did itch
And so he scratched away that *****,
That had the gall to bite the groom
Before they left the marriage room,
The dog said, Pastor, ditch this deal
I do not like this itchy feel,
I was better off when I was single
Before the flea and I did mingle;
A moral of this tale takes flight
Don't marry, should your girlfriend bite.

Dramatic distress
Some people display,
When they are trying
To have things their way

Dramatic impress
Is their method and plan,
Get everyone's attention
Like an earthquake in Japan.

Dramatic finesse
Self-trained, she's a master,
Oh, what would I give for
My Stokes-Adams blaster,
Holstered on my hip
For situations such as this,
A dramatic departure
With flame and a hiss.

Dream Kiss girl
Showed up on my vacation,
A lovely dream as usual
With customary excitation,
The details are secret
But her presence was refined,
My dream-self stated
I'm glad I haven't dined.

Sure, she was illusory
Flickering in and out,
In a dream world that is expected
It is nothing to be mad about,
And like any good fantasy
One must appreciate the incremental,
Dreams of this nature
Are way beyond incidental.

Considering my location
This may have been,
That Venezuelan Barista
Visiting again,
But this time in spirit
Ephemeral and pure,
And whatever is ailing me
I think she is the cure.

We had a romp of sorts
That I may not reveal,
And for a dream girl babe
She is the real deal,
No photographs exist
She has no telephone,
Her appearances are unpredictable
Her whereabouts unknown.

Dream Kiss Babe
That was exquisite,
It ranks among
The most delicious visit,
Dribbling wine in my mouth
With a delicate flute,
Followed by a simple kiss
To boot.

There may have been chocolate
Involved in this endeavor,
Whatever it was
You were so delicately clever,
Such a simple fine wine
And the taste of your kiss,
No dream before
Has ever been quite like this.

Dream kiss babe
This sweet dream doth linger,
I barely did touch you
At all with my finger,
Bur when wine and chocolate are included
With a delicate kiss,
That is a dream
I will sorely miss.

Emotional breakthrough
Strains at my insides,
Physical and mental fatigue
On a roller-coaster ride,
Lost, wandering souls
In a bookstore at night,
Rampage through the writings
Of love, death and fright,
Titles blend
They all become one,
The moon will give in
To the rising sun.

Mood altering chemicals
Endogenous dreams,
My heart cries in agony
A nightmare of screams,
Who would pursue
Such consummate pain,
It may appear washable
But always leaves a stain,
And after a while
The background just fades,
Personality tinted
By several gray shades.

Thank goodness the sun
Rises each day,
Because the night of the soul
Can hold the heart-song at bay,
Squelch the fires of love
And the passions of pleasure,
Effectively burying
The beauty you treasure.

I was recently hired
In the Eye Tea division,
After an Earl Gray interview
It was an easy decision.

She seemed forlorn
Staring off into space,
She wanted to be alone
I could see it in her face.

I left her alone
But kept myself near,
Providing security
I felt her deep fear;
It set her apart
And restricted her travel,
I felt all the tension
About to unravel.

Should I go sit beside her
And offer my hand,
Help lift off the weight
And allow her to stand?

It seems the best thing
She has so much sorrow,
If I help her today
She'll feel better tomorrow.

I wonder sometimes
What stories I'll tell,
On my way to Heaven
Not heading for Hell,
Some might think I'm crazy
The things that I'm saying,
But if you are religious
I know that you're praying.

At work the other night
I performed some good feat,
The nurse that I helped said
God bless you, Pete,
And it caused me to wonder
If she somehow had the power,
Bestowed on her by God
To bless me that hour.

I didn't notice any difference
That a blessing could have made,
Perhaps the blessing is in storage
To be sometime later played,
To my better advantage
In a time of greater need,
Like when I stick myself with a needle
Causing me to bleed.

What makes people think
They can randomly send a blessing,
As personal agents of God
It's almost depressing,
Because that's what the whackos say
Before they poison their flock,
It fills me with trepidation
As I prepare for the blessing shock.

Who knows what it means
When you're blessed for a sneeze,
Though I've always preferred
"Gesundheit", if you please,
That kind German wish
To offer me good health,
But I'd really prefer ten dollars
And wish me good wealth.

I would rant and I’d rave
I’d bargain and scold,
Till I was blue in the face
And feeling quite old,
Just to get the girl reading
Something more than Teen People,
I’d gladly climb Everest
Or leap from a steeple.

I burned 17 packages
Of incense and sage,
I scouted the bookstores
For tomes for her age,
But what good would it do
If she never opened the book,
She would tell me, dear Father
I don’t like the look.

I loped to the library
And toddled to Tower,
I dashed down to Dalton's
Scanning books by the hour,
All with a longing
And a keen aspiration,
This daughter would read
For a minute's duration.

Alas and alack
All my efforts were nil,
Not a Shakespeare or Keats
Nay, a Jack or a Jill,
Until I admitted
My failure as Father,
All my running amuck
Was an embarrassing bother.

I was forced to succumb
To the wiles of her ways,
She could read fashion mags
To the end of her days,
If only this Father
Would pay the subscription,
Or this daughter would connive
A catatonic conniption.

This tale has an ending
And it came down to loyalty,
I pay her to read
So she's feeling like royalty,
I had to demonstrate
That I was loving, not mean,
I said, "Read in the car"
She replied, "Limousine".

How often it's told
In stories and lore,
That raising one's children
Is often a chore,
But the right application
Of smiles and charm,
Will insure that the Father
Will avoid lasting harm.

I finally achieved heard immunity
I stopped listening to all the voices in my community,
I deny social media and don’t read the papers
I don’t even listen to the movers and shapers.

Heard immunity
Felt so good to achieve,
Whatever you have to say
I won’t listen and I’ll leave,
To allow you some space
To spout your opinions,
You have the right to do that
With your adorable minions.

Genius that I am
At nonsense creation,
I've had a hundred business ideas
Without organization,
I proposed making dog jewelry
But we never got to it,
We tried hot spicy dog bones
But they wouldn't chew it,
Let's make puppy clothing
But I don't know how to sew,
I'm just a creator of ideas
And that's all I know.

I have a new concept
But I can't share it with you,
You might figure out the process
Then I wouldn't get my due,
So my clever ideas
Are kept hidden in a box,
And eventually they are gone
Like the keys for the locks.

I didn’t plan
And I don’t regret it,
Some say, you should have
And I say, forget it,
It all turned out fine
The way it was done,
So I will continue
And it ought to be fun.

I didn't plan
Because of childhood drama,
The unexpected near death
Of my beloved Mama,
That's when I understood
That the future was uncertain,
That plans could be derailed
By what's behind the curtain.

Sometimes I plan
Regarding tomorrow,
That’s my limit on the future
That I’m willing to borrow,
Because two days from now
The completely unexpected,
Might force a new direction
That had not been projected.

When I do try to plan
I’m frozen in my tracks,
Uncertainty assails me
And gives me forty whacks,
I flounder in the maelstrom
Overwhelmed by specifics,
I’ve tried to work through it
But to me it’s hieroglyphics.

I didn’t plan
And it turned out alright,
I married a princess
And she’s with me every night,
But I was just mail-order
And now she’s stuck with me,
And other than that
Our lives flow happily.

Hello, Lady
You invited me, I think,
We crossed paths in the ether
And you made my eyes blink,
I turned around after passing
To get a second look,
Could I be the liner notes
If you were the book?

Could this be the preface
Of a classic compilation?
Chapter one, they meet
In some exotic nation,
A couple random souls
Bumping shoulders on a train,
First impressions so important
Etched a memory in his brain.

A dark-haired brunette
Fit and healthy, there's a start,
He noticed a sudden change
In the beating of his heart,
Single parent, that's OK
It means she knows selfless love;
As if predestination existed
He felt a little shove.

Chapter two, they meet again
He saw her at the diner,
That little lurch inside his heart
Noticing she was finer,
Than the nebulous memory
Etched inside his brain,
But understanding, he'd been in love
Since that night upon the train.

Chapter three, for now
Is essentially unwritten,
The protagonist in question
Undoubtedly is smitten,
Not sure where the dialogue
Will guide the future pages,
But he knows that life, love and laughter
Progress through careful stages.

She's a cutie, yessiree
If I was single
And she was free,
I might propose
A rendezvous,
I'm sure there's something
We could do.

But then I left
Before we could,
Was that bad or
Was that good?,
I don't know
But it was fun,
To imagine things
We never done.

In the future
I might repeat,
This kind of thing
Is simple and neat,
Flirt a little
And laugh a lot,
‘Tis an exercise
That ends with naught.

I used to fall in love
(Infatuation) with all kinds of birds,
There was an early Robin
Long before the one with the ring.........no words,
Robin #1 had a single-mother
Kept a keen eye on us,
This girl was totally cute
But they left on a bus,
At least I think so
When their apartment was vacated,
I was broken hearted
And that is understated.

Before that there was Lynn
I carried her school books on my bicycle,
An eighth-grade romance
I wasn’t yet an icicle,
No major touching
Just a casual knowing,
That she was nice and I was attracted
Gentle winds were blowing.

Then there was Vicky
I didn't treat her well,
I was beginning to get anxious
In my own private hell,
Now I know why
I had a hard time making decisions,
Others had always chosen for me
With strict conditions.

Jeanie changed all that
We were fun on the run,
Things got hot and heavy
And we almost shot the gun,
We played around for a while
Even after we went our ways,
Friday night rendezvous’
Bored teenagers practicing plays.

Cindy was a drop-in
Restrictive Catholic parents on tap,
But she was a hottie
Sitting on my lap,
Man, things were hot and juicy
But we weren’t really rolling in the same crew,
It was a short run romance
I should not have stirred the stew.

After that I fell in love once more
With a younger girl again,
Marcia was her name
But I was a mess by then,
I could not express my feelings
And hardly talk on the telephone,
I took her to the Prom
I was like a stupid stone.

It was hard being me
Those “incel” guys, I completely understand,
There was no internet groove at the time
A support group for the not in demand,
But, I wasn’t angry at women
I was quite aware of my limitations,
Which didn’t make it easier
Just a lot of hopeless never-invitations.

Don’t even imagine
That my story ever improved,
I got to age forty-five
And my world had not moved,
Now, something did happen
But it was not of my creation,
I guess that was the final answer
Step aside and just take dictation.

Just do what someone else suggested
To see what might occur,
I tried it and God Dang!
I met HER.

I have never trusted
The testing of IQ,
Who is smarter
Me or you?
Yesterday, I scored one-forty
Last week an eighty,
After a night of boozing
'Twas my birthday, matey.

When I was a kid
I thought it meant, I’m cute testing,
I got really good scores
My destiny was manifesting,
But then I became awkward
When I hit thirteen,
My popularity plummeted
If you know what I mean.

IQ, I’m cute
Don’t go hand in hand,
Some of the smartest folks
Are dorky and bland,
And your **** stud boyfriend
Might be dumber than a post,
That’s why I don’t trust the testing
Nor do I ever boast.

Ivermectin
What's the deal?
I took the Pig dose
And now I squeal,
Every time
I smell leftover dinner,
And I'm fattening up
I used to be thinner.

Joe Bob Bulaski
He took the Cow dose,
Every time he sees a tree
He stands real close,
And just the other day
He yelled, "Moooooove over",
When I was approaching
His field of clover.

His twin sister Carla
Took the one for the sheep,
Now she wants to change her name
To Little Bo Peep,
And every time I talk to her
She says, "Stop Ba-a-a--a-thering me,
But she'll ask me to scratch her back;
She thinks she has fleas.

Now, let me tell you about
Old Uncle Morris,
He took three doses of the stuff
Along with Aunt Doris,
They picked the package
Labelled for Equine,
Now they're galloping in the pasture
And everything is fine.

His one way forever trip
Lasted five weeks,
When he exhausted his cash
And was bored up to his cheeks,
There were the usual excursions
To see cousins and monks,
But when all was said and done
He was just one of the punks.

They have little inspiration
And no imagination,
To do anything beyond
Their comfort zone,
This leads to lassitude and laziness
Goofing off and craziness,
Made worse without the
Latest mobile phone.

When your iPhone doesn’t function
At the Annapurna junction,
When the SIM card can not find
A local tower,
The entertainment cycle fades
Winding down the fool charades,
Time to hit the road back home
And toss some flour.

In one Asian culture, tossing flour in the air at New Years celebration is to bring good luck.

She’s got a leash on her boy
And she’s carrying her dog,
She has her face in her phone
And her brain is in a fog.

That’s what we call consciousness
In the world today,
Social media drives everything
Around work and play,
Well, my standard statement is
I just can't figure out this phone,
It’s so much smarter than me
I’d rather leave it alone.

Don’t hand me any device
With a name that begins with an I,
For twenty years now
I’ve given them a try,
But none of those i-devices
Make any sense to me,
I have an Android brain
That’s how it was meant to be.

Sure, money is a factor
I don’t like to spend it very much,
But I’m instantly frustrated
With any iPhone or iTouch,
Even if I win the lottery
I won’t be buying Apple devices,
Heck, I’m a millionaire now
And I still fixate on prices.

I only use about five applications
And I rarely take pictures,
All those pixels and adjustments
Just give me strictures,
I don’t use Facebook
Twitter, Instagram or TikTok,
I bought a smartphone
To process credit cards
Down on the auction block.

Her boy is off the leash now
And he’s chasing a ball,
While Momma and her Pomeranian
Are on a Whatsapp conference call.

Who is that on yonder trellis
Oh my gosh it's Little Ellis,
Climbing higher, hand over hand
Chasing something? nothing planned.

Perhaps he saw a shooting star
Or a will'-o-the wisp somewhere afar,
Regardless, Mother where were you?
When Ellis decided what to do.

When Ellis reached the top of the trellis
I think he said, “Hey, look at me fellas”,
And then he waited till his Momma could see
Knowing she will be proud of me

Momma came looking for Little Ellis
At first relaxed and then over zealous,
Running in circles, bordering on frantic
As her worries and fears became gigantic.

Then she heard a giggle, a **** and a burp
Over her head like a little bird chirp,
Raising her eyes upwards toward the skies
Little Ellis on the Trellis
Yelling, “Momma, surprise!”

My little poems
Are short stories,
Most of them fictional
Few personal glories.

Something in everyday life
Flashes a spark,
But I’m not Superman
More likely I’m Clark,
My enhanced power
Is a quick imagination,
Much to my mate’s consternation.

She listens quietly
And doesn’t interject,
She probably ignores me
Out of self respect,
Not to be tainted
By my wild accusations,
Crazy word salad
From mental gyrations.

Rhyming is an easy way
To express what is in my brain,
Puns, jokes and associations
Seized before they go down the drain,
Best written pretty soon
Before I forget the theme,
And sometimes the best ideas
Are from a lucid dream.

Short little stories
With an eight line meter,
Less than a kilogram
About a half liter.

Loss and recovery
A process lined with pain,
It may be quite depressing
As emotions wax and wane.

If you don't resolve the issues
You'll suffer endless grief,
If allowed to pass the course
The results produce relief.

If Mika is just like her mother
The world is a better place,
If Mika looks like her mother
Then surely, she has a beautiful face;
And if Mika learns from her mother
Perhaps she'll live in a state of grace.

Amazed I have a niece
So beautiful and bold,
She married her twin
Before getting too old,
Not afraid to be out
In the world with her best sister,
Mrs. & Mrs.
Each knew when they kissed her.

People read my poetry
But I rarely see a 'Like",
Would it be better
If I had a Harley Davison bike?
If I talked the language
Of "Born To Be Wild",
And I wrote some poems
About a love child.

Well honestly
My life was a little bit like that,
One marriage after
I hooked up with
An overseas bobcat,
Younger by ten years
She looked like she was eighteen,
My oh my, she was cute
Better than anything I had ever seen.

We met and talked
Three days later we were married,
It grooved with my profile
Crazy desires partially buried,
I didn’t know her
She didn’t know me,
Heck, we didn’t speak the same language
But it was fine with what I did see.

Fast-forward
Now it’s twenty-three years later,
You might ask if I had been twenty-eight
Would I have considered a date with her?
Oh my god, she was just as cute
Back when she was a teenager,
But I couldn’t know her then
Nor was it time to make a wager.

Out of an abundance of caution
We shelter in place,
And if you try to leave your house
You get sprayed with mace.

Active shooter situations
Only to discover that  nobody is home,
Locking down an entire neighborhood
Now that’s some crazy foam.

A lot of terms of our times
Are all about control,
Contain the population and the narrative
Then hide it in a hole.

We’re all in this together
If we each play our part,
That rarely works out……...
Because one bad apple
Can upset the apple cart.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel
Yes, things are on the mend,
The narrative is under control
Until the last page; “The End”.

What started as something
Resulted in naught,
Like making a purchase
Then regretting what was bought.

Preemptive expectations
Often overly excite,
What started as a kiss
Turned into a bite.

“Portland Police Draw Weapons”
It must be an artistic police station,
They need something to do with their hands
So they don’t suffer stagnation,
Maybe they draw weapons
When confronted with unarmed men,
To de-escalate the situation
They grab charcoal, paper and pen.

A stash of ten thousand rounds
Was found in a square house,
Luckily the rounds had no bullets
They couldn’t harm a mouse,
Armed perpetrators
Brandished pistols and guns,
But their rounds were effectively neutered
Like ten thousand nuns.