saw Star Wars VII
was blown away,
but just what happened
i cannot say.
there were some droids
and space ships, of course
along with tons of action
and use of the Force.
scoundrels and wookies
who still own my heart
princesses grown up
and jedis apart.
there’ll be no spoilers
forthcoming this day,
but see it asap
so we can discuss, okay?
Like roly poly balls of dough
Both too stuffed to wiggle,
My spouse and I sat side by side
Our stomachs prone to jiggle.
Through one whole day we feasted,
Thanksgiving at its best,
Tom Turkey gave his life for us
Now L-Tryptophan bade us rest.
That amino acid played its card
And lured us into slumber
Listen and you’re sure to hear
My husband sawing lumber.
Peace, people!
Thanks to social media and WordPress I’ve become friends with a large number of people who* I’ve never actually met face to face. (*Should that be whom? I’m sure one of my friends will let me know.)
I enjoy these friendships formed over creative writing, political leanings, and witty comments. In many ways they are as important to me as friendships formed in old-fashioned ways, such as over a shared love of hopscotch in elementary school or while playing hooky together in junior high (not that I ever did that, of course).
Social media friends tend to be extremely forthright and plain-spoken. If one thinks you’re full of cow manure or a post is weak they’re likely to tell you, knowing they’ll never have to look you in the eye. If a fellow blogger doesn’t “like” or comment on a post their silence might indicate that they didn’t care for the piece or that they didn’t have time to actually read it. The Pollyanna in me always believes it to be the latter.
A friend I don’t know with whom I play Words With Friends (Roy S.) went missing from the game for more than a week, and I began to worry about him. Because the game is our only link, I had no way to inquire after him. Finally this week he played a word and in chat said he’d been unwell for the past few days. Whew! Of course I’d imagined poor Roy S. dangling from a cliff by one hand while trying frantically to type “a-p-r-a-x-i-a” with the other.
Similarly, if I don’t hear or read something from a blogger I follow I start feeling anxious. My imagination goes on overdrive and trust me, in my mind some of you have met spectacular ends. I’m so very relieved when I see a post from your site, and your make-believe death gets saved in my future fiction file.
This leads to the following question: Shouldn’t there be a way of making sure the friends we don’t know are ok? Maybe I’ll invent an app that generates one final note on social media upon one’s death. Something like:
Hey there. Leslie’s dead. She wanted you to know that your support meant so much. Here’s one last poem composed in advance of her demise to be shared on this occasion.
Gone
By Leslie aka Nana
Life was so wonderful
But my time has come,
No one thought I was sick
Guess they feel pretty dumb.
But I lived a full life
Full of all that is good,
Now sit and weep for me
Like any real friend would.
Leslie knew this wasn’t much of a poem, but, hey she was really sick.
Peace, and good health, people!
A long time ago
In a galaxy far, far away
A scoundrel and his wookie
Swooped in to save the day.
I could sure use a scoundrel
To besmirch my reputation
And if he’s just like Han
There’ll be no hesitation.
Peace people!
A glass of wine
a jug of bread
and thee.
i might be drunk.
My youngest brother Brent, or “Brentia” as we used to call him back when we pretended he was a baby sister, was one of only three friends who participated in my first annual “Guess the Arrival Time of the Comcast Cable Installer and Win a Poem in Your Honor” contest.
Amazingly, having given us a window of between 5 and 7 on Saturday evening the cable guy rang our doorbell at 5 p.m., and while none of my guessers came very close to being correct, Brent’s prediction of 6:45 p.m. beat out the others. Brent, I hope you enjoy your poem. I wrote it from the heart. 😉
“Brent’s Poem”
Hey, baby brother
You didn’t know,
but this is true
when you were born
I wasn’t crazy about you.
I was seven;
you were a pain,
too cute for words
while i was plain,
but you grew on me
as the years went by
like moss or mildew
you’re a real fungi.
Love you little brother!
Peace, people!
the most important
meal of the day,
or so i’ve heard,
is the one you’ll
eat upon waking.
who am i to disagree
with waffles and eggs,
pancakes with berries,
and mounds of crisp,
crunchy bacon?
but my favorite spot
has limited seating
and this morning an
incredible queue, i am
already weary of waiting.
looking
hot
for a
woman
like me
who
is not
takes an
exhausting
amount of
energy.
i think
now
might be
a good
time
for a
nap.
zzzzzzzzzzzz
Peace, people!
Love handles,
Spare tire,
Thick around
the middle.
A muffin top
by any other
name is still
my clothing
nemesis.
I tried on jeans today. Hence the poem. The jeans I loved fit just low enough on my hips to produce the dreaded muffin top. The jeans that hid my muffin top produced the dreaded mom jeans look. I’m thinking about embracing the bulge and decorating it with sparkles and sequins. Might start a new trend.
Peace, people!
I ran over a snake this morning.
Ewwwwwwww!
It made me think about other things that bring an ewwwwww to my lips and face and mind:
Things That Make Me Say “Ew!”
(To the tune of My Favorite Things)
Spiders in thick webs and
Baby poop in diapers,
Roaches in corners and
Squished bugs under wipers
Moldy foods in Tupperware
And stinky gym shoes
These are the things that
Can make me say ewwww!
Snakes underneath tires
And hair in my salads
Stepping in dog poo
and John Tesch’s ballads
Splattering sneezes with
Snot infused goo
These are the things that
Can make me say ewwwww!
When the kid pukes
When the farts smell
And I hold my nose
I simply reflect on these
Grossest of things and
All I can say is Ewwwwww!
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 