Saturday, May 4, 2013

Radicalized Republicans

Radicalized Republicans

I had a plan called “Radial”
To show the sins of Right
I decided to make a meme for me
I worked hard through the night

I have a pic of Michelle and Mitch
The ugliest on the net
I learned to us my paint program
Attention I will get

The bombing of Boston hit my heart
The men were radicalized
But in our land we have our strange
If people would just surmise

Being Left or Muslim is
No different if you’re crazy
You mind can still succumb to crime
When thoughts get skewed or hazy

If those you know have bad agenda
And work beyond the fray?
Notify authorities
And tell of their radical ways

Thursday, May 2, 2013


If you have a teenager, or if you are "blessed" with the joys of being ADD, Then you will appreciate my situation. I am over 50. And as I get older, I struggle more and more to stay calm, stay focused and stay at my desk. ADD isn't something one necessarily grows out of.

It’s the little round amphetamines
that I mean to take
That keeps me on my tasks each day
But don’t keep me awake

Perhaps I can do some Adderall
Down the hall today
To hasten on my profession
And in my seat I’ll stay.

I wish it wasn’t anxiety
That gets so serious
But I’m inflicted with such pains
I get delirious.

ADD’s prescriptions are
Tons above the rest
For giving me the peace of mind
So I can do my best

An elderly broad I might be
Maybe not a young chick
But give me tax code for the rich
And my drugs will do the trick

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Ode to the Jellybelly

We are all victims at some point in our life. Everyone of us (who have access to candy) will or have been victim of the jellybean. Here in Kansas City we hear people say "I'm going to the store. What flavor of Koolaid you want?" And response is usually something like "my favorite flavor is green" for example. What's your favorite flavor of Jellybean, green, red or blue? Today I walked past my co-worker's desk and was offered  a snack sample of jellybeans and almost died when I bit into what I though was a banana flavored bean and it turned out to be - ugh, lemon. There ought to be a law.

Silly yellow jellybean
Taste like a potato
I think I should be able to buy
a bean that tastes of tomato

If we had a salad bean
Roquefort would be the taste
That had us run to the store
In hoards we’d go with haste

Don’t forget the steak and peas
Made of these jelly rounds
We’ll say that they are calorie free
So we won’t gain the pounds

Saturday, April 27, 2013

A Bug's poem

I grew up with a father terrified by spiders. When he was very small his grandmother used to lock him in their root cellar (basement) because he was so hyper. As a result we were whipped if we thought it would be funny to throw a piece of lint on him (or anything really) and say "spider".  After a couple of whippings here and there, we learned there were other ways to tease daddy that didn't hurt as bad. This is one small poem to honor my father.

A Bug’s poem

A little bug of the hive,
not a Whoville who
Called me on the phone one day
But all I said was “shoo”

She buzzed around my living room
And lit upon my shoulder
“Scram you little mighty Mite”
“Take off’ is what I told her.

The little bug, small and blue
Did not become too vexed
Instead she girded up her might
And hid her thoughts perplexed

And then she brought me tender sweets
Like honey fresh and new
And aphid-suckle fruity drinks
And sugar from honey dew.

She caressed my shoulders softly
And tickled me on my ears
She whispered sweet little words
And soothed my buggy fears

She is my little baby bug
A texting chatty dork
Who finds and soothes my woes away
At home or when I’m at work. (c)


One of the hardest lessons I have had to learn as a adult is the philosophical statement "Just because someone is nice to you, that doesn't mean they like you". I've always been so honest with my feelings about others. That, if I didn't like you, I ignored you, didn't talk to you and avoided you rather than talking to you. Yet, I was so blind to others lies, pretentiousness and deceit, I never knew how far it could go until...

Tell me why I gave a damn, or wonder if you care
Tell me why I needed you, or ask if you are even there
Is it your acceptance that I seek to gain each day?
Working in your shadow hearing the things you say

Is it the loyalty you’ve earned, or my mistaken grace?
That flowed from me freely as I sat here in my place
You’ve really not done much, but listen as I cried
You offered a kind word now and then. I wonder if you lied

Tell me! Who are you now? I see through your poor guise.
Your Midwestern conservative robe has fallen before my eyes
The sun is setting quickly cold sets across my land
I am seeing more clearly now. So, I will take a stand.

You may not know you betrayed me and I may not tell you so
You may not even notice me gone. But still, I shall go
I will not be the butt of your jokes, or the one to scorn silently
Instead you’ll find another one to mock diligently

My character is all I have to show or dictate what I say
But instead I’ll wear a frown, withdrawal and quietly walk away
You’ll be left in your position missing just one friend
Quietly, I will retreat and you’ll never remember the end

I now can see your frailties and know the truth I see
You no longer hold my heart; I’ll no longer stand with thee
It’s funny how we hid our truth and wear robes of colors bright
But yours has fallen from my eyes and I bid to you, “good night”

Friday, April 26, 2013

Screaming Rain


The other day I was just mindlessly scrolling down my Facebook news feed when I read a very interesting statement from a girl in Germany who subscribes to one of the pages I also subscribe to. And, she used the phrase "screaming rain". I wasn't in a mood and honestly was rather numb, tired and needed to sleep. But that phrase; those two little words hit a nerve. Why? What was it? An oxymoron maybe? Nonetheless, I couldn't leave it alone. I had to write it. I had to click over and write. Within a moment I had one of the best poems I've written so far in life.  Tell me what you think.

Screaming Rain

What could this be? Who am I? Oh My!
I’m rolling. I’m falling. I’m wet.
My family is clustered around me now
Tis something I’ll never forget.

The jet stream is busy, it pulls me about
It’s scary and noisy. I’m tussled.
I grab my breath I cannot hold.
My screams cannot be muzzled.

Rolling and turning about with my family
I reach out to hold those around
We are all screaming pitifully now
As we plummet onto to the ground

Agitation is my quandary
As we fall on the land again
We are all just a family that falls and falls
We are the muted screaming rain. (c)



Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Should I thank a slug?


Have you ever had one of those days when the birds are chirping, the air is fresh and it's so beautiful outside that you think you are going to die from cabin fever. So, you look up anticipating it being close to go home and it's only 10:00 in the morning. Um yea. It happens to me. I couldn't stand it another minute. I needed a break from the slug's osmosis.  Outside the air was brisk. The birds were singing in the trees, the sky was clear and work was the last place I wanted to be. Cold or not - I wanted out.

So, who do I thank for the inspiration to go outside? Who else? My favorite slug.

Get your coat on (c)

Setting here, feeling flustered
Thinking of stuff and yellow mustard
Wishing slugs slept in winter
You think it’s time to go outside.

She’s a pisser, yep that’s right,
There is no one here more uptight
You can re-assign my cubby
I think it’s time to go outside.

How much bad can one beotch find?
Before she leaves us all behind
To descend below the fire.
I really NEED to go outside.

Now she rags on other kin
And gets deep beneath their skin
Her fangs are hot, overworked
Get your damned coat on!


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