is reflected in the lake
her rump’s creating ripples
making her pal rhea quake
rhonda’s been rhapsodic
pink is ugly
if you don’t wear it right
i haven’t slept for days & days
i only sleep at night
kids are really stubborn
when they put up a fight
but mosquitoes tend to come around
if you don’t turn out the light.
no, i don’t like bugs much
i doubt i ever did
so if you have a box of bugs,
please keep on the lid.
i am not illiterate
though i can’t read or write
it’s not the darkness scaring me
it’s just that there’s no light
i wouldn’t send a dog out
on such a gruesome night
but spiders are quite dangerous,
at least the ones who bite.
you know i really hate bugs,
i doubt i’ll ever stop,
so if you have a jar of bugs
please keep on the top.
this verse was composed for the weekly photo challenge, and here’s that photo:
but it’s gonna take all day
this meadow is enormous
and there’s not a single fence
i guess i never noticed
that this place was so immense.
except … i hear them giggling
they’re hiding there,
i prob’ly should have mentioned
i have impish sheep and goats
“Be a brick,” my ma would say
when she wanted something from me,
but a brick, I’d think, does not do much,
it’s kind of just a dummy.
It needs propulsion from an arm
to travel any distance;
it surely never fetches things,
not without assistance.
It surely never fixes drinks
without the needed fingers —
two was the rule for my dear ma,
the memory still lingers
by itself it isn’t violent
by itself it’s mostly silent
by itself it’s barely active
and that’s hard truth,
that’s just a fact of life for bricks…
Of course I get that if in tandem
with other bricks, in some non-random,
mostly matching symmetry,
and if they’re laid out skillfully,
bricks can be a lot of things —
bridges, chimneys, tall buildings —
but she didn’t pluralize,
so why, ma,
thick as a brick, ok that’s thick
slick as a brick, so not so slick
not quick, no tricks,
but solid, yes, and hard as rocks
and something you can build on
and in a pinch, if your butt is small,
something you can chill on
or use to mark a hidden key
or stop a swatch of weeds
and if the wind is blowing things
a brick might suit your needs…
the brick sailed smoothly through the sky,
whither to, I pondered,
and then it hit me in the eye
and now I am a goner…
or anyway I’m halfway blind,
but it’s okay
and I don’t mind
‘cuz I’m among the lucky few
who now know what one brick can do.
graphic verse for grown-ups
bi-product poems of living.
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A Bald Bard Blog, Doing Doggerel Doggedly
Writing and drawing her way out of dyslexia...
It started when I gave up smoking and went from there!
“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.” ―Edgar Allan Poe
Northern Irish Poet based in Belfast - Focused mainly on Romantic Poetry.
Things I should be telling myself
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Non-factional opinion, fiction, poetry and occasional humour
A little Flemish shack where I create my photographic art.
Everything and nothing in one place.
Confessions of a bookaholic
Love stories with a twist and other peculiar tales
The before, during and after stories, poems and photos of a homeless child.
Reflections on Life through poetry, essays and photos
I write because I can. I can because I want to. I want to because you said I couldn't.
Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why. -Kurt Vonnegut
Freedom to Break the Silence
The path to me: past, present, future and imaginary.
Fiction from Photos