One More Crummy Poem: Please Add Yours!

Supper’s on the table
With sour cream and chives.
One more day of waiting
To see if I survive.

All the pieces are in place
I even bought dessert;
Everyone is happy,
And I am going berserk.

I might sleep beneath a tree tonight,
Stay up until the dawn.
Something’s got to tear loose soon,
Or I am going down.

Forget the happy endings.
I ride the universe.
My hangnails all have offspring.
A thin shell over nerves.

So I conjure, and I write.
This path or that, I try,
Shove made up folks down fancied roads
Where I feel more sane and sigh.

I’m standing on one shaky leg,
Looking out for any handhold,
All preciously grabbed in gratitude
As I read tales I’ve told.

8 responses to “One More Crummy Poem: Please Add Yours!

  1. Salmonella, Botulism

    Last night I took a frozen chunk
    From the freezer, and with a thunk
    I set it on the kitchen counter
    Where I left it, and forgot ‘er.

    This morning when I found it there,
    All thawed out, I did despair.
    Do I keep, or throw it out,
    Was it safe? I had some doubt.

    Salmonella, botulism,
    Intestinal paroxysm,

    What a shame, I said aloud,
    Of this soup I was so proud,
    Baby limas, chopped sweet onion,
    Chunks of ham, then cooked till done.

    Dare I eat it? Is it safe?
    On me the stress began to chafe.
    Tonight I poured it in a pot
    And boiled it ‘til it was hot.

    I let it boil a little longer,
    With wooden spoon I did a-stir,
    Hoping it was safe to eat
    If I made sure to over-heat.

    Salmonella, botulism,
    Intestinal cataclysm.

    I smelled it first, then tasted it,
    Then I ate it, every bit.
    If I should die before I wake,
    Blame it on the beans I ate.


  2. Gullible you are too funny!

  3. Welcome rain last night prompted this tribute.


    Rain soaks the parched earth
    Bringing forgotten plants to life.
    A resurrection of my soul.

    Green arms gesture skyward
    Offering thanks to an unknown spirit.
    Prayers of silence seen not heard.

    Summer’s heat attacks without mercy
    And plant life surrenders without tears.
    Their time will come again.

  4. – Estate Sale –

    My horse is tilted
    and leans against the fence

    under the watchful eyes
    of bakelite crows

    who lust styrene corn
    faded white from the flash

    a Christmas Kodachrome
    alone in a box

    behind the dry sink
    picked up by the movers

    transparent keeper of
    frozen reflections

    raised up to the light
    shares a long held image

    of lazy childhood days
    oh so long ago

    on my happy farm
    with the lithographed barn

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