"quipped" poems
when i was a freshman one of my friends told me that there was a girl who was talking about me
asking why i was pretending to be straight and that everyone could tell that i was gay
my friends and i laughed it off like children and i quipped “i’m not pretending anything, just ask anyone and they’ll know”
now, i think of the rainbow socks, the only thing i own with a rainbow on it, being shoved down to the bottom of my sock drawer as if it would pop out at any minute and proclaim it’s existence if it were any higher. now, i think of the rainbow highlight that i applies in the bathroom at midnight, pausing every now and again to make sure i was alone. Now, i think of the pride nail art that i scrubbed off my nails minutes after i painted it on. now, i think of the last word in a poem that i wrote and turned in, scared i was being too obvious with the word they.
now, i think of the horrible creature sitting in my chest that simultaneously begs to never tell my secrets and to also scream them from the roof tops. i think of the sludge that lives in me and climbs up my throat, whispering safety into my ear while also ripping apart everything it touches. i think of the pain i feel whenever i say that i’m gay, because it makes things easier if the works sees me as a girl who loves other girls.
before thinking of this poem i had sat back and wondered how many bottles it would take of the various prescription medicines that my parents kept in the kitchen cabinet to **** me. when i remembered the name they would put on the tombstone i stopped and walked away. i remember the time where i couldn’t walk away and i had reached in and grabbed a full bottle of ibuprofen and i took a single one, hoping that my screaming head could be sated by the feeling of a single pill crawling down my throat.
i had a dream last night about someone called addison.
they looked me in the eyes and before i even knew what they looked like their physical form flickered until they were a bright shining star in a vaguely human form.
they sat next to me as we floated in a void on a picnic blanket and they put their arm around my shoulder which felt like a hug from someone i used to know but had forgotten
i stared at their glasses that looked too much like mine as they flickered in and out of existence and they told me i was not where i was supposed to be.
i didnt ask them where but they heard it anyways as if breaking into my thoughts. they answered that they could not tell me and when i thought why they said they didn’t want to spoil the fun of a brighter future for them and me.
i woke up with the taste of lavender on my tongue and the desire to change my name.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
Far away in ancient Jerusalem
Stood a garden, long, long ago
Home to giant oaks and figs
And plants and shrubs of every kind.
On every season, from time to time
Merrily they would burst into bloom
Filling the air with fragrance sweet
And fuelling the hearts with joy and cheer.
Amid the riot of flashing shades
Where Poppies and Pansies held their heads
In a corner, there a Lily stood,
Sans scent and sans grandeur.
A poor loner never once noticed
Nor skilled to steal the show,
Those, brilliant in shade and shape
With contempt openly quipped
‘It’s such a shame
She grows among us
With such pallid shade
And nothing to rave’,
‘Lilies are such lazy lot
Giving only seasonal blooms’
Rang aloud their haughty comments
Rashly blurted out and blunt
The poor Lily wilted in shame
Wishing she had never been born.
Late that evening, through the garden
Into the newly dug up grave
A band of people came with lights
Bearing someone cut and scathed.
With blood oozing, drop by drop
From wounds, left by piercing nails
The body, carefully wrapped in linen
Was the body of Jesus - Son of God
The one who bore the sins of the world
And courted the most accursed of deaths.
The body embalmed was laid inside
And sealed with a giant block of stone
Soldiers posted to guard the tomb
And every vigil so prudently kept.
Early by dawn, three days hence
While it was still very dark
From inside the tomb had come
Rumbling sounds and a blinding light.
Flowers en masse blinked their eyes
Beheld a man, gently walking out
The wounds still fresh on his palm
And the linen that swaddled, lying behind.
As they watched this queer sight
In awful amazement, they did see
A host of Lilies, white as snow
Far more beautiful than any of them
Bowing their heads in reverential glee
And singing Hosanna to the Lord of Life.
All the flora in silent shock
Sighted from whence the Lilies came
They sprang unforeseen in those spots
Where drops of blood from his body fell
Then onwards, without fail
April sees the grandeur and grace,
Of snowy lilies - those delicate blooms
Sprouting suddenly from the crust of the Earth
Joggling their heads in whiffing breeze,
And giving delight to all who behold.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
Byron and I play
The All Topics Open.
Eighteen holes
Invariably draws nostalgic.
Byron mentioned he went to the WWF in Detroit.
I sliced into a childhood memory
Of midgets at Cobo Hall:
Cobo Hall, Saturday Night. Be there!
Byron started pitching old wrestlers and holds:
Leaping Larry Shane, great with the Anaconda Vice;
Killer Kowalski vs. Bobo Brazil, pinned by the Crucifix and Abdominal Stretch;
**** the Bruiser* tagging with The Sheik
To defeat Gorgeous George and Crybaby McCarthy.
Byron went on in detail, with tabernacle authority:
“It was a Bear Hug that quickly swung in to a Quarter,
then Half,
then Full Nelson;
Crybaby bounced off a knee,
Was driven to the mat and pinned
By a Front Sleeper.”
(Jimmy's newborn picture faded in,
and the pose he naturally struck
baby arms
cocked like a sideshow muscle man
Daddy quipped: **** the Bruiser*.
I was Leaping Larry Shane.
Daddy quipped: Larry the Stooge.
I didn't see that move)
Byron was intense. I could hear, but
I was zoning.
Crybaby and Front Sleeper dazed me.
How time Venns.
I was pinned today.
I recognized the feeling.
Tagged, then pinned by
The inescapable
Baby Nelson.
You know the hold.
On your back.
Baby on chest, face down.
Pinned.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
We sped along the highway,
Faster than two hundred year old clouds;
All at once a yellow blur of sunflowers
Filled the only view we had.
Fields and fields of sunflowers
Facing the south sun like a choir;
And ready for harvest.
Denise remarked she liked the seeds,
And the oil is good for pharmaceuticals, etc.
We use them a lot, I quipped.
But we were in a rush to see
Stratford's As You Like It,
So they never got a second thought.
Til now, you see,
For I'm feeling somewhat vacant.
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 7:06 AM UTC
we were driving home
taking side roads in a roundabout way.
and you spotted something on the side of the road.
bloodied, broken and (i assumed to be) dead.
you pulled over and we inspected it.
i was rather disgusted, but you picked it up and coddled it 'cause it had fur.
you kept coo'ing at it and asked it what it's name was (expecting no answer)
but it struggled to utter "Love".
we begrudgingly decided to take it home
and made a bed for it and nourished it back to health.
a week later we were drinking Earl Grey by the fireplace,
heard a rumbling
and looked around to see it standing there looking at us.
it was 7' tall and had an expression of awe, wonder, and terror
as if it thought we would ****** it at any second.
each night it had a different face, resembling one of your former playthings.
you never called it the same name twice.
a week later, it couldn't fit through any of the doorways.
we always came home to plaster, paint and drywall scattered everywhere.
i complained.
"Love has broad shoulders", you quipped.
it had grown too much for us.
a week later, i spent the afternoon at the bar and you were shopping.
we rendezvoused back home at 3PM.
only to find a gaping hole where the front door used to be.
everything inside totaled.
precious collections, expensive technology, jewelry...
all gone (or destroyed beyond recognition).
i railed, "Love ruined EVERYTHING!!!"
you seemed to take no note, kept your composure and muttered, "It always does" and just began sweeping.
the next day we got a kitten from the animal shelter,
and were laying in bed with it at night.
i asked, "Do you think Love will ever come back?"
you answered coldly, "It never does".
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
I thank you for moving out of my life.
Nowhere else is my own happiness,
Or rather it is my self-satisfaction,
Winning the 7 Minutes of pleasure.
Greatness I see in me after she departed,
Red-faced she seemed purple with shame,
Equipped with a pump I see myself,
A pump of self-satisfaction and relief,
Tasked I am with my own happiness,
Looks interesting this lonely pursuit,
Yet I know that I can be easily happy.
Advancing alone on the road of love,
Demands of my own body I listen to,
Minding not that I require a female,
If I wanted to make strong kids, 'coz
Ravishing my body has always been,
Even before I ever requested you to stay.
Maybe you can get a better husband,
Yet I am going to be really very satisfied.
This is the life I have always been loving,
Hindsight is never going to be pleasing,
I am so aware of this fact I have known,
Checked fully is that one best gift to self,
Kingly is this feeling of self-satisfaction.
Enjoy information I do in my life alone,
Just like before you or the others came,
And I now realise that before all I came,
Chiseled is my muscly pump after pumping,
Up & down, round & round, up & down,
Laid before I did in Agra like a clown,
Awesome is the feeling self-satisfied,
Tremendous is my relief each time,
Ever happier I have been pumping.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:51 AM UTC
I reached into the bag and
pulled out what I got
They said I had to live with it
like it or not
It didn't seem fair
They insisted it was
Life is what your born
I asked why? Just because
So please go stand
in that line over there
A biped will approach you
pretending to care
At this point I tossed
my grab back towards the sack
Quipped I'll pass on the offer
and dove into the black
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC
How Brave you must be~the squaw exclaimed to the Chief. " Why, I am more than a Brave", the Chieftain quipped.! " Just look at my feathers and the scalps hanging by my side, do they not tell of My many Deeds ? Her reply was a simple ,, "YES, I can see how you have adorned yourself ! " He retorted ~ " And you certainly can't miss all the colors by which I have claimed MY-STATUS ! " The Squaw responded~ "YES, the HUES on you, certainly tell me who and what you are, now that I look closely ! " And he added~ "Look at the careful way in which I have displayed my Collection of SCALPS, Spaced ever so carefully around my waistband ! She questioned further, "Have you ,Oh Mighty Chief, Properly named each of the Scalps , SO YOU won't forget from whence they came ? ? "OH, My Goodness, YES, he answered. "I wouldn't ever want to forget where they came from, SO~I admire each and Call each of them, By Name~ Everyday. "SURELY" She continued, "YOU are much more than any other Chief, and by the way , DO you use Windex or Glass-Plus to clean your mirrors ? ? " HE exclaimed, "I, really don't know what cleaning agent my servant uses, to clean my many mirrors ! BUT, they certainly do shine, when I look into them ! The SQUAW queried~ " BUT what about your shoes, moccasins , if you would, WHAT~~ is that Green-Gooey Stuff all over them ? ? HE-Commented~ " I guess that when I take my mighty steps, toes and feet, IN THE WAY, Fall under the Prances that I make ! ! ? " Then,She asked~ "Do you do your War'Dances often, or just as you are called on, by your mighty warriors ? " AND,,this Brave-Chieftain PROCLAIMED~ "WHY, I"ll have you Know, I do all of these Prances and Dances ~BY MY OWN CHOICE, NO-ONE tells me when or what to do. Except my visits with the Prince of the Air !" The Squaw thanked him~turned~then turned back~Asking " Measured by~ Scalps~Prances and Dances ? ?
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
There was a man from blighty
of mature age yet spritely
whom quipped and joked
till others choked
upon their laughter mighty
...... ....... ...... ........
There was a man named Martin
that had a central partin
so he wore a hat
and thought that's that
until it started smartin
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 10:02 PM UTC
What will you have, asked the waitress,
A death sandwich I replied,
Mustard and ketchup, she continued,
Yes and slather the mayo, double the cheese, I answered back politely,
You’re aura is a spiral, she said, whole wheat or white,
White with butter and does it come with final fries, I queried,
Included, she replied
And a new indelicate sugar fix by the pail.
Make mine to go, I suggested.
Want to quantum up and get a piece of plague cake
Maybe **** cookies in a bowl.
What a wonderful time to be alive I remarked,
The only generation to ever eat itself to death she quipped,
We’re special I said and looked away.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Sunrise was just a red line in the inky void, as Lisa and I reached the harbor decking stairs,
but at once, the brazen slash began widening, like a silent, slow motion explosion,
thin, smoky wisps of cloud, like flammable tissue, prismed the stage light ignition.
bee-de-deep my phone chirped. It was Peter (my bf).
“Hey you,” I pronounced, as Lisa took off her left sneaker and shook it, upside-down.
“How’s the harbor?” Peter asked. I glanced at my watch, it was 5:32 am in New Haven.
Peter must be at lunch (in Geneva) and tracking our morning run with the ‘Find My’ app.
“Beautiful,” I pronounced, “they’re really putting on a show.”
Of course, I meant the universe, the sun, the turns who were already at work, and Long Island Sound.
The gulls, perched on whatever, and grousing at each other, obviously haven’t had their coffee.
I read that AI had decoded bird talk and on a wire, they chittered, “Move over, you’re in my space.”
“Just wanted to say good morning,” Peter confessed, “Good Morning.”
“Good morning,” I wished back, “gotta go,” I replied, Lisa had finished de-pebbling her shoe.
“Yep,” Peter agreed, “Seee ya,” he quipped. “See ya,” I chuckled, smiling.
My watch asked, in my Air Podded ears, “Have you finished your workout?” because I was motionless.
I pressed the crown of my watch and slid the phone back in my pocket, our jogg’s only half done.
We began our harbor exodus, by turning our backs to the haven. It was already beginning to busy with boats.
We slipped on our hats and protective, polarized sunglasses as we began to run directly into the blazing sun.
.
.
Songs for this:
Sail on Sailor by the Beach Boys
Dancing in the moonlight by Toploader
Cold Heart - PNAU Remix by Elton John, Dua Lipa, PNAU
Apr 25, 2024
Apr 25, 2024 at 10:07 AM UTC
I stroll into the bathroom
newspaper tucked under my arm.
The silent morning ambience
holds for me a special charm.
Whistling,I lift the toilet seat
to take my morning leak.
I'm stopped up short
when I hear someone speak.
"Morning bro,what's up?",
came the voice from below.
I stared in utter disbelief
at the toilet saying hello.
"Don't freak out",it said.
"Just do your thing,I'll do mine.
We can be the best of mates
till the end of ***** time."
"Oh well",I thought
and started where I left off.
Aiming into a talking ***
Isn't easy..Hey!Don't you scoff!
"Wow!You've got a lot stored up"
quipped the rude toilet.
"No wonder they're saying there's
a drought in the nearby hamlet"
On-off,on-off came the flow
as the seat moved up and down.
Only later did I come to know
I own the most loquacious loo in town.
Irritated I told it to shut up.
"Bro,what will you p### into?",
it laughed,splashing water around.
No arguing that,it speaks true..
"Hey did you hear?
Old Loo-pin next drain
got married to Pottyara.
I hate her,she's too vain!"
"Work on your technique mate,
I've seen toddlers do better...
My,my!Seriously?!Still got more?!
I'm getting wetter and wetter!"
"Will you hold still!"I shouted.
"Hey don't take that tone with me.
Being watered in the maw ain't fun.
Swap places and then we'll see!"
"It'd be a lot more easier",I reasoned
"if you would stop yapping.
Who cares about super toilets?!
Now just start lapping!"
"Okay sheesh,someone's grumpy.
What?!show some pity on the loo!
Hey!Wait!Stop right there!!
Sh##,now I've to take poo too?!"
"Okay get this over with quickly.
You're choking me!!Aaaahhh!!!
Okay,never ever again take
chilly sauce with pizza!"
As I flush and leave,it cries
"Oh the horror!the horror!!!
All the perfumes of Arabia
cannot wash away this odour!"
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
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Royale Rococco rigged remarkably regular referee reefers red reddit reeder recuperating. Reconnaissance recluse really rabid. QVC quotient quoting, quo quoi quivering quite quirky. Quisling quipped. Quintuplets quintessentially quiet. Quids Quicken questions.
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Proletariats professors' problematic. Pro privileges prioritized. Principle primates prevaricate. Preppy pregnant, praying prattler possibly Porgie. Poseidon pooping poodle ponders poppycock. Plum? Polite poison pods ply pitiful pinterest.
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Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
"I'll take that," I said.
"No, it's fragile," she said.
"Ah, your heart!" I quipped.
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
charcoal smudges and
indistinct hazes of darkness
phrases laced in harshness harnessed
and armed with my conviction
addiction to truth even
when sharp enough to harm you
disarm you
dis-arm
dismember
sever limb
from limb
tongue from clever whim
from quipped retort
designed to thwart
off the largest offender
up wind down wind
I don't remember really the direction
from whence one came nor
name nor much anything
other than
charcoal smudges and
indistinct hazes of darkness
phrases laced in harshness harnessed
and armed with my conviction
addiction to truth even
when sharp enough to harm you
disarm you
dis-arm
dismember
sever limb
from limb
the smother hot tension seething
wriggling writhing ringing in my head
sirens throwing up red flags
at catch phrases
stated like razor blades
repeated like mantras
she said she said
he said they them,
my head
they said I was lonely
they said I was weak i think i thought
I believed
they loved me
someone told me
I wasn't worth a cent or sense
or that I had no sense
or that I was nonsense
all of it I think I thought all of it
I tense, became tense I tensed
over overwhelming disapproval
even at a distance
for my depreciating assets
the expense of my existence
my penance for loving myself
when it so inconvenienced
those I was living around
was letting myself
think I was worthless
forgetting
how to count
senseless
centless
arbitrary
I have digressed
I guess this is all jumbled concept
an attempt to recreate the conception
of my desecration
of the crumbling of my foundation
of the ashes left
when they, when she,when all of them
broke inside my head
to watch the walls burn
from the inside out
ashes
and charcoal smudges with
indistinct hazes of darkness
phrases laced in harshness harnessed
and armed with my conviction
addiction to truth even
when sharp enough to harm you
disarm you
dis-arm
dismember
sever limb from limb
sin from sin
self
from worth
you hurt me
they hurt me
I hurt myself
because I believed you
were telling me the truth.
I became dark
charcoal smudges and
indistinct hazes of darkness
phrases laced in harshness harnessed
and armed with my conviction
addiction to truth even
when sharp enough to harm you
disarm you
dis-arm
dismember
sever limb
from limb
kin from
kin
i'm gone now.
think of me as charcoal.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:36 AM UTC
a couple of days ago we visited a land inhabited by deceivingly accurate portrayals of life. we grew so entranced by everything we saw. we spotted a very strange looking crustacean flanked by a really thin looking squid positioned upright. she quipped about how it looked just like a pen, and when we went to the store we made it our life's only mission to find it and buy a replica so that every time we confessed to our journals we'd remember the day. but it wasn't there. i think about it now and i laugh because what kind of a mentality is that? to just be so sure that something will be there, will work out in our favors, will come back despite all odds. i can't afford to think with such ironclad naivety. people are not infallible. funny as it is, i can't expect to find a squid pen, and no amount of determination can make tangible something that doesn't exist.
but the whale, above our heads, floated as lifeless and seemingly ordinary as a chandelier. a half idyllic half menacing scene at the bottom of the ocean. we laid underneath it and felt so small. our worries and problems themselves seemed even more infinitesimal. i pretended i was submerged underwater, letting all of my troubles disappear and become one with nature, and she was the only person who could listen to my thoughts.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
Suffering said to Pain,
"Sister, how can this be?
Why are are we here?
When will we be free?"
Said Pain to her sister,
"You whine too much!
You ask too many questions..
You don't accept God's touch"
Angered - Suffering quipped,
"God's Touch sister dear?
Our world so full of ugliness
Have you not looked in a mirror??"
Pain rolled her eyes
"Suffering, how long has this been?
Since the beginning of dawn
Til we reach each night's end.."
Suffering sighed, exasperated
"Pain, I love you..I do
But how do you go on??
Tell me, how to settle without truth?"
Pain softened.. replied,
"Dear sister mine, be still..
I know not more than you
But, I see it is God's will."
Suffering, now resigned
Knew the argument she'd lose
Pawn pushed across chess board
"Sister Pain, its now your move.."
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 5:12 AM UTC
The water lies
opaque,
and still on the highway,
glistens, then evaporates as
you draw near.
O’er the left,
windswept, dry
to a brittle chalk white,
that barren floor of
alkali.
Just to the right,
subdued, honey-hued,
a flame that doesn't glow
as bright.
Clamped by the vice
of dread,
as the road before us spread,
farther than our own eyes
would bear to see.
Wisps of feelings had,
trapped hot against the
rocks,
on the hills
rolling by, beside and beneath.
Misplaced words,
quipped obliviously,
snuffs, buries
the flame.
This soul sits
opaque
and still,
riding across the highway,
as dry as the ghost of that sea.
When you draw near......
You end me.
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
When for the Muse shall I wrangle those Songs
And carry them Gently to your Heart's place
First my Errors make Pure; Then Right my Wrongs
To listen, dear Talent of Promising Grace
If such my Words be too Quipped for your Pick
Since I, abandoned the Once-Supporting Friend
Shall I bite Sincere; Then hear your Voice unique
By Faith my Cloudy Attitude amend
Then crank this Ampled Recorder to Like
Which by Prayers fast weave a Chuffled Tune
To capture those Drums; From Snails such Elves devise
And summon the Crowd to revere you soon.
That is my Wish; Though Hoodwinked I become
Blow Notes for your Pen; Such Pen your Gift's Sum.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 3:07 AM UTC
When we got in the car
She turned on the GPS.
"We're only going to London," I smirked.
"It's sixty miles on a straight road."
"I know, but this makes it easy," she smiled,
"And tonight, I'll make you an Irish stew."
"Is that easy too?
"It's a straight road! she quipped.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
We shared the same bunk bed
in the tiny Astoria projects apartment
I laugh to myself recalling the 3 AM singing sessions
we crooned right along with the Bradshaw brothers
stocking caps plastered to their heads
doo-wopping on the benches below
beautiful voices framing the cold,
unforgiving, angular brick buildings and ghetto nights
Sis, you were my head pall bearer
shouldering the shoe-box casket
along with an odd collection of project kids
forming a procession up 27th avenue
towards the green steeple church on the hill
solemnly we laid Pixie the cat to rest
“Last Looks” I quipped before lowering the box
she had accidentally slipped out of the window
and was not as lucky as Winston Parks
a young toddler who had fortunately
landed in the bushes
when our newborn twin brothers, Chris and Pat
surprised our parents bringing the count to 5 siblings
I officially became the 2nd mom
a reluctant teen, my head buried in a book
simultaneously rocking a twin carriage and stroller
LOL...seems like only yesterday we were camped out
in apartment #6B planning all sorts of mischief
now there is a pile of little shoes next to my door
and the next generation trudging in
with water pistols, bubbles and coloring books
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
“Lool, maybe I could come whisk you away”
He quipped
Be serious! I’d love to
A date, on a date with you,
Nothing too serious, of course.
Maybe lunch, dinner and discourse.
I’d love to watch you laugh over a meal!
....delete
Well, if you’re serious we could fix
Something. I think I like you and it’d be nice
To meet. Let’s do something, Maybe ice cream?
Rufus and bees? Or a movie?
...delete
“Lool, big head”
... Enter.
“Hehe” – he goes.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 5:41 AM UTC
Not to greet the dawn of the day
At care free weekends
Leisure infused lethargy
For him it was up 7 at 10 AM
He was at sixes n’ sevens
Quipped from cuddle of bed
At the warning warrant
Of piled up weekend errands
He sipped tea n’ clicked on screen
To play music of unseen scene
As he surveyed household
To bring home into his fold
Cutlery rattled prattled
Vessels cranked in sink
Threatening to stink
If not surfed to shine
Used clothes hanging banging
Summoned washing wearing
Carpet in sequence flared up
To mop it up long along
Bathing tub demanded its bath
Well before he had his bath
As he peeped out a while
For refreshing breeze
Waving blades of grass
Accosted to trim their size
Sinking hope of a post lunch nap
Grouse of grocery then unveiled
And kid’s unrest for the day-out outwit
Took a long drive for the joy ride
Week end outing weakened though
Alas! Weary weekend seemed longer than week
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
As though the breeze would carry
Her words across the sea
Right from within this cosy bower
To some far away places
And be heard also in the palace
Of the Queen of England,
When she whispered to me--my grand--
Delightful dame, in the raw:
"Art thou a one-trick pony
In play, my stallion honey?"
"Nay!" quipped I with guffaw.
I can mount fore and aft,
Thy fount, as it's apt.
Then did I turn on the shower--
The showers of blessing on her with care
From the station she did to me declare.
And therefrom I did hence perspire,
Besides, in deference to her soul's desire.
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 1:20 AM UTC
“How do you want it?” the hairdresser asked.
“Bald.” I quipped.
Shalini Nayar
© 2002
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC