"chortles" poems
Sundays on the ranch are somethin',
Just after morning chores are done,
I head up to the house on a dead run,
I've called the herd and put the buckets out,
Fed the chickens, called the horse, "Old Son,"
Heard the rooster yammering at the rising sun;
Old dog is baying loud to add some fun....
Meanwhile, at the house,
The wife has rattled up the kids and lined em out,
When I come in, they clear the bathroom out,
So I can get a shave and morning shower,
And off we'll head to church in half an hour.
Or so we think....
It's then the neighbor calls to say our milk cow's swinging by,
Bell clanking off-step time to her butter-churning udder,
"She's headed north toward town!" he chortles mirth,
"Maybe she wants to hear old Pastor Perth!" I mutter.
All jokes aside, I hang the phone and grab my cap,
We pile in the truck to try and get her back....
We have a chance if we can turn her 'round above the hill....
Why is it Sundays sweet Dolly becomes such a pill?
A simple rule of nature I wish I could avoid,
Is if a plan is put in place, as sure as Lloyd,
Our Guernsey chooses then to go out on a spree,
And Pastor Perth in town prays extra hard for me.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
10 Haiku of Raven
1
black God
Huge cumulus clouds,
Exploding into the blue,
. . . Shadowed by raven.
2
valley morn
Dark hands working fields,
Raven tracing mountain crests,
. . . Carnal tillers wake.
3
Raven spell
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
. . . Druids incantation.
4
unfaithful
Snow covers valley—
Solitary raven staining world,
. . . Love has turned black.
5
outcast
Many years alone,
Suddenly— old thoughts of her,
. . . Lone raven in sky.
6
mischief
Lone raven cackles . . .
Clouds splinter across the sky,
. . . Mist cuts down the woods.
7
marked
Full moon crowns tall pine,
Raven landing in cross hairs,
. . . Dark angels halo.
8
Loki
Raven knows a charm,
A child's costume jewelry,
. . . Colours a black eye.
9
tall tale
Zenith of winter—
Lone raven in naked tree,
. . . Spring only legend.
10
dark angel
In his feathered dress . . .
Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,
. . . Even eyes are black.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
( Haiku )
1
black God
Huge cumulus clouds,
Exploding into the blue,
. . . Shadowed by raven
2
valley morn
Dark hands working fields,
Raven tracing mountain crests,
. . . Carnal tillers wake
3
Raven spell
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
. . . Druids incantation
4
unfaithful
Snow covers valley—
Solitary raven staining world,
. . . Love has turned black
5
outcast
Many years alone,
Suddenly— old thoughts of her,
. . . Lone raven in sky
6
mischief
Lone raven cackles . . .
Clouds splinter across the sky,
. . . Mist cuts down the woods
7
marked
Full moon crowns tall pine,
Raven landing in cross hairs,
. . . Dark angels halo
8
Loki
Raven knows a charm,
A child's costume jewelry,
. . . Colours a black eye
9
tall tale
Zenith of winter—
Lone raven in naked tree,
. . . Spring only legend
10
dark angel
In his feathered dress . . .
Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,
. . . Even eyes are black
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
breaking ice in my mineral water
lime spritzing the air and
dripping down my fingertips
as i twist it and sip its tang
hot sunlight radiating on my
body until the sweat glistens
at even the slightest movement
the rustle of well-worn pages
his sharp Adam's apple
rolls ever so slightly with a swallow
of the sparkling glass
the bubbles, like tiny diamonds
the hiss of the sprinkler next door
and the squealing chortles
of the neighbor kids running in it
chocolate melting on my tongue
chair squeaking when I recline
Happy is as happy does, but
I'm thankful happy's mine.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
I'm sorry
If I woke you up last night
My pen told me secrets in whispers
And I carved scars and tales
Of silly incantations and
old fallen trees
Of silver days in summer breeze
and tattered amber sundresses
Of apple bites and ripe grapes
near the broken glass on the carpet; they decayed
Ashes danced on my lips; sculpting poems on my skin
and flicking cigarette on my wounds
Smudged mascara and dulcet memories
Leather fabricated journals of vintage times
hiding crisp carcasses of yellow daises
Euphonious chortles and
early morning smiles
Forgotten tea leaves in the teapot
and ginger bread turning cold
Sun rays, like gold dust, sparkling in the air
Through the tall trees of a forest
hanging on the clouds in despair
First day of Spring, magical it is
like a caterpillar's fate
Silky cocoon, shiny chrysalis,
emerging out as a butterfly
Leaving as old and embracing the new
Igniting the sky over my purple roof
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
*( Haiku )
1
black God
Huge cumulus clouds,
Exploding into the blue,
. . . Shadowed by raven
2
valley morn
Dark hands working fields,
Raven tracing mountain crests,
. . . Carnal tillers wake
3
Raven spell
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
. . . Druids incantation
4
unfaithful
Snow covers valley—
Solitary raven staining world,
. . . Love has turned black
5
outcast
Many years alone,
Suddenly— old thoughts of her,
. . . Lone raven in sky
6
mischief
Lone raven cackles . . .
Clouds splinter across the sky,
. . . Mist cuts down the woods
7
marked
Full moon crowns tall pine,
Raven landing in cross hairs,
. . . Dark angels halo
8
Loki
Raven knows a charm,
A child's costume jewelry,
. . . Colours a black eye
9
tall tale
Zenith of winter—
Lone raven in naked tree,
. . . Spring only legend
10
dark angel
In his feathered dress . . .
Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,
. . . Even eyes are black*
.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
(Haiku)
.
1
Black God
Huge cumulus clouds,
Exploding into the blue,
. . . Shadowed by raven
2
Valley Morn
Dark hands working fields,
Raven tracing mountain crests,
. . . Carnal tillers wake
3
Raven Spell
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
. . . Druids incantation
4
Unfaithful
Snow covers valley—
Solitary raven staining world,
. . . Love has turned black
5
Outcast
Many years alone,
Suddenly— old thoughts of her,
. . . Lone raven in sky
6
Mischief
Lone raven cackles . . .
Clouds splinter across the sky,
. . . Mist cuts down the woods
7
Marked
Full moon crowns tall pine,
Raven landing in cross hairs,
. . . Dark angels halo
8
Loki
Raven knows a charm,
A child's costume jewelry,
. . . Colours a black eye
9
Tall Tale
Zenith of winter—
Lone raven in naked tree,
. . . Spring only legend
10
Dark Angel
In his feathered dress . . .
Raven shrouds beneath the clouds,
. . . Even eyes are black
.
Nov 14, 2021
Nov 14, 2021 at 12:46 AM UTC
Fathercraft
has been passed down
from father to father
losing and gaining
at each slow bequeathing -
less heavy-handed there
more soft-hearted here
as each generation rejects
the disciplines of the past.
So much so that I wonder
what's left of the original art
and what we've lost.
This is my food for thought
as I feed my daughter -
crumbled digestive
with mashed banana -
perhaps a favourite of mine
and my father's,
while she grins and chortles
blowing biscuit dust
and spittle bubbles
with absolute child-delight.
Food for thought
as I drink in her smile,
wipe my cheek
and laugh along,
prolonging the rare perfection
of this father moment.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 11:34 AM UTC
Brown oak leaves underfoot, last year's sodden
reminders that newness always ends. But
not today
while the creek, silent in summer, chortles
about last night's rain, full of spring vigor
far below
the limestone bluff edge where
I stand, chert nodules and fractals
peeking through
springy new undergrowth, broke down
limbs, leaf litter and dark soil. I came
for morels
but it's too early, too chill yet. Tomorrow's
predicted sun may bring them out. Early
mayapple
sprouts fool me, draw me to admire other
understory plants: trillium, maidenhair fern,
spring beauty,
johnny jump-up and more whose names
I knew once but forgot. I came alone and
I don't need
names. Names mean nothing without
voices and other ears. I love the silence
I bring here.
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
The elves congregated
In the back room of the shop,
Muttering amongst themselves
And chattering on nonstop.
One elf stood on a table
And scanned the angry crowd.
He raised his hand to shush
The others from getting too loud.
"Fellow elves, be quiet.
We have work to do;
This isn't just a trivial
Elven ballyhoo.
"Santa's expectations
Have risen exceedingly.
He takes no action when
I ask him pleadingly
"For a raise in pay
And better working conditions.
He only chortles and laughs
And speaks of old traditions."
An elf spoke up from the group:
"The reindeer have it made.
We work our butts off;
But see how little we're paid.
"Why they earn so much
Isn't really clear
When they only work
ONE night of the year!
"Platitudes and promises
Do nothing to assuage
Angry workers. Santa
Must increase our wage!"
"Yes," chimed in another.
"Not keeping up with inflation,
Our pay keeps us living
In serious deprivation.
"Our benefits also haven't
Kept up with the times.
They are slashed while
The cost of insurance climbs.
"I know we've a lot to do,
And I think we're pretty meticulous,
But the hours we're forced to work…
I mean…this is ridiculous!
"And what about part-time elves
Who have little enjoyment
Working for no benefits?
You call that employment?"
Disgruntled, all the workers
Considered taking action
And wondered what to do
To get some satisfaction.
Another elf said, "Santa's
Heavy demands are an onus.
And we elves don't even
Get a Christmas bonus!
"Frankly, it takes every
Ounce of faith I can muster
To think that dear ol' Santa's
Not a union buster!
"Furthermore, there's something
That I've got to say:
We all have to strive
For equality of pay."
"Yay!" the elves shouted
And in unison chanted:
"Equal pay: Yes!
Take nothing for granted!"
The work discussion lingered
Well into the night.
They knew that gaining ground
Would require a fight.
(In thinking about life,
Struggles, work, and fairness,
It doesn't hurt anyone
To have some elf-awareness.)
Eavesdropping here,
You've seen for yourself
That life's not always peachy--
Even for an elf.
Let's just hope that Santa
Doesn't be a ****
And save a few bucks next year
By outsourcing the work.
- by Bob B
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
Her bitter coffee is
everything she’s got
Stale toasts and a
sickening migraine bout.
Every time she chortles,
She is hiding an inept
hiccup filled with despair
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
The lady's large legs
shuddered, spreading
-becoming broader-
as tears treaded
descending down
corpulent cheeks and chins
(like a rill running from
narrow eyes undulating upward)
She laughed... Oh joy!
this wonderful woman
seated shaking on her small stool
hardly holding in
chortles of cheer
palms on her plump potbelly
erupting with euphoria
as her heavy heart hurt heaving
boiling blood battling
plaque packed into
every artery to
locate luscious lips that laughed loving life.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 7:34 PM UTC
They start as a single
before moving to unity
a chorus of chortles
to those who listen for that
It’s hard not to
when they rehearse in your right ear
and perform in the left
You said that they could
lent them the key
thought about drowning out
with a little symphony
What a ******* mistake that was
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
Nursery
Blurred shapes, lines of
hazy memories.
Babbling and wailing and curiosity,
Why, why and whys, and kissing boys
And not caring how others
thought of you.
Bright-eyed smiles, hopeful
Kindergarten
Fun-filled days of
Tricycles and grass under my feet
And swinging and falling and
Getting up.
Of giggling and friends forever and
Most of all,
Innocence that know no bounds.
Primary
No more tolerating of
Un-done homework.
Punishments and ugly laughter
And friends who ditch you
No more chortles, guffaws,
Only eye bags and rumours
brought by knowledge.
Secondary
New chapter, new
Friends, new school,
new, new, new...
Balancing precariously on an
Angry horse,
Threatening to buck and
--send you careening--
over the edge...
What's new?
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
Druids incantation.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 5:25 AM UTC
*Dream I
We are underneath a treehouse.
He pulls the cord
to raise the platform on which we stand
and I splinter my hands
gripping cedar as we swing against gravity
stomach lurching in the heights.
He chortles
as I beg to be let down again.
Dream II
We are in bed,
yet I feel lonelier than if he were
a million miles away, or under another's sheets
and I grimace
as he tells me not to speak -
that my voice annoys him
even when my whispers, my caresses
are merely my love incarnate.
Dream III
We are in a bar without walls.
He smiles, dances on the bar top
backlit by a blue mirror and bottles
with a dark-haired wisp of a girl in white
and she isn't me.
No, I was unexpected.
I say hello and his smile disappears.
This observation spears my guts, as
he pretends not to hear.
I order a drink and pretend I never tried.
Dream IV
He leaps and gestures and goads,
poking fun and inspiring deepest belly laughs
and I should be blissful
but he flits from table to table
always passing mine.
Saving his jokes and witticisms
though I can think of a billion replies
better than everyone else's.
I turn to our mutual friend
who shrugs and lets it slide
saying this happens all the time.
Apparently, I am an audience
now considered too cheap
to buy.
I Wake...*
The television flickers.
His heads lolls onto my shoulder
and his longshank of a leg twitches.
I want to weep or ***** so
I move and
his arm tightens around me.
I want to shake him, when
his lips that are even softer, pinker than mine
uplift at the edge, and
part to whisper,
"Stay."
Each night I fear I have lost him forever
and each day I wake to find he loves me still.
What will it take to convince me in the dark
of what I, in the daylight, know by heart?
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
Druids incantation.
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
"let's do it." says i one night
"no no i daren't." (pronounced "durn't") says she *"m'father would be
so angry.."*
the next tuesday i say:
"hey we should get together go wild and get into some shit--you might really like it!"
she says "noo.. well, maybe sometime. b-but you can't let on to my sister! oh would she be jealous of it all."
"mum's th'word" i says.
"and you can't get her to do it instead!" she cautions.
"s'alright. i like those mirrored freckles on your lip. she doesn't have those."
"okay well i daren't do it now tho."
a month later i say *"well do
you wanna, donna?"*
a sly smile then "how about a drink first?"
so i buy us hennessy and we drink
**** near the whole bottle
and she, real drunk now says only
"noo noo i daren't do it!!" (here bad timing chortles leerily at me with that
"oh ohh ha ha ha ... ooops!!" shit-eating grin)
while the bottle rolls round under the table.
so i pass the year away
with a few casual encounters
and
then she turns up some tuesday night on my porch with a moan sayin'
"oh i wanna!"
so of course i
did it, twice,
and she, while rubbing my belly after said:
*"ohh. that really is nice!"*
& so i did it once more for kicks ...
holdin' her down on that big king bed.
th'next week she comes in wearing
new leather boots/hair curled/breasts overspilling
she asks
"have you ever seen la dolce vita?"
while we're sweating away
"yes."
so she gushed *"oh but doesn't it show
how beautiful it really is?
the joining of two people so hot
& sacred?"*
"geez." says i, "so become a catholic already."
she giggled ("you comedian!") and wanted to keep doing it again
a few times
but you know, i was quite serious.
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 4:38 PM UTC
Desdemona's engine stalled
she chortles contra possibilities,
neither of which are pellucid.
The night sky
reels in
mornings flight.
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
I have no qualm with Christ,
insists the common man or woman,
My thorn lies with "Christians."
Interesting. It makes me think.
Perhaps there is a difference, then
between "Christian" and "follower."
One can deride a "member"
as one chortles at an arrogant child
for presiding over a tree house.
His father planted the tree
and his father nailed the boards to it
yet the child excludes as he sees fit.
One cannot demean a "follower"
for the follower acts the part of his father
and invites the other children in.
He learns their names and smiles
and shares his sandwich and cookies
with the ***** hungry faces.
So many among us will
step forward and throw the first stone
at the stain glass of a church
Yet who among you would
pluck that same stone and hurl it
at the face of Christ himself?
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
TEETHING TROUBLE
Armed to the teeth
with
teeth
(all newly acquired)
you delight
in biting me
leaving little
indented marks
like moons
that glow on my arms.
“Don’t let her bite you like that! ”
Her mother scolds
both her & me.
I laugh.
“Let her practice! ”
My flesh willing to be
bitten
to ease her
teething troubles.
she looks up
at me
(all chortles and drool)
takes another
nip of me
“Naw...naw...naw! ”
gnawing at my flesh
smiling up at me
with all her little teeth.
I kiss her
on the top of her
adorable
head
adorned with
a classic kiss curl.
“Da...da...da! ”
she thanks me.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
Our lives are like a comedy series
From the 90's and classic recorded cackles,
Black and white screen tickle our fantasies,
Autumn patters deliver chortles
A box of popcorn
And a ticket to be seen,
The audience inpact overjoyed
To each hilarious scene,
Signature idle of Charlie Chaplin
History remained into our brains,
'Till the thick red curtains are finally falling
Bows and gertures
Do not mess with thr jesters
Because if you do,
They will give you bullets of chapters,
Of laughing,
Laughing,
And laughing
Think thrice, why do you collect these mixtapes?
Zodiac's sunflower suddenly became cozy
Most of the time the crazies,
Make you feel sane
And the normals,
Could make you crazy,
Or worse
Cutting our mourns,
Then savour the sweet devour
During depression—
Then soon,
Came the after laughters,
Laughing,
And giggling,
And laughing
Happy Gum-ball machine
Rainbow Russian roulette
Delighted condolences
May or rather be an insult
Not all 'after laughters' end up—
With good results
Dec 16, 2017
Dec 16, 2017 at 12:04 PM UTC
Tonight I saw a Falling Star
So I made a wish to dream on
I wish you time to try and to fail and try again
I wish you an uncluttered mind and curious soul
I wish for you a steady friend to hold in your heart till time dost end
I wish for you a stunning sunrise at beginning of every day
I wish for you a place of comfort and solace when your in need
I wish also for trials and tests for in completing these you will
gain both strength and wisdom
I wish you laughter ... great big chortles... giggles and shy sweet smiles
I wish you empathy and its sturdy twin tolerance.
and at days end may you sleep deep, dream sweet and safe under Our Lady's silver light
All these things I have wished for you
none can you hold in your hand...
or cash at the bank or even exchange it for something more grand
Because this wish is my wish
wished on a falling star
I make this wish with all my heart
I make this wish with all my spirit
I make this wish for you
All the ones that touch my spirit
met and yet to be
I will never force nor bind anyone with this wish
it is a gift and as with any gift
..you must accept it or deny it
In my Lady's name ...
MAY IT HARM NONE
These are my WORDS
This is my WAY
Solita Shadoewalker -2007
Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 3:01 PM UTC
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
Druids incantation.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC
It's a pleasant scene really;
calm breeze whistling,
bonfire glowing,
uninhibited chortles rippling through the air.
But I'm not feeling like myself today.
I'm just forcing a smile
through split, bloodstained lips
and the sizzling of alcohol
on open wounds is
amusing.
There are too many conversations.
Entertained by slurred statements
and detached from subject,
I am void and vacant space
occupying this camper chair.
But when a muffled interaction begins, things finally get
interesting.
"You've got a little bit of crazy in your eyes."
The observation haunts me.
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC