I don’t do yoga, but I’ve got the pants
I have no rhythm, but I love to dance
Don’t play guitar, but I collect picks
Can’t play drums, but I’ve got the sticks.
I don’t fish at all, but I have a pole
I have the right shoes, but I never bowl.
You just never know what life might demand
So it’s prudent to keep this stuff close at hand.
At full dark the lights on the house across the lake come on,
Their reflection tracing a path across the still water.
If I were a little less substantial
I could trip across the shining pathway sending little ripples as I go.
Unfortunately, I am made of flesh and blood and bone,
And would sink like a stone on the journey.
Or maybe an alligator would feast on me.
And the fish could feast on the leftovers until only my teeth remain.
I’m not sure what good those would be
unless one wanted to make a gruesome necklace.
You said you want to meat me by the stares.
But I don’t no you that weigh or that well.
Don’t weight for me two long
I mite bee lost or confused.
You say yule give me your awl.
Butt I just want your hart, deer
And maybe your sole.
I just don’t want to loose ewe.
Our communication seams fatigued
Wee don’t always reed each other
In a way that nourishes or defends
But I like what I sea when ewe come around.
I am
words
Inside and out
Corridors papered
With shoulds
And should nots
Conduits some,
Obstacles others.
If I dance it’s only
Because the words
In my soul
Instruct me to twirl.
And if I cry it’s
Not for a lack
Of words
But almost
Certainly due
To an
Abundance of
Rules.
Two cats square off
One nose down
One on tippy-toes
Dancing around
Backs curved
Arching
Hissing
Much ado
About
Absolutely
Nothing
Except that
One was creeping and
One was hiding
And caught her sister
Unaware.
The meat in my sandwich
The cold in my ice
The onions in my taco
The dots on my dice.
The biscuit ‘neath my gravy
The tootsie in my roll
The water in my ocean
The statistics in my poll.
The sand in my bucket
The flowers in my vase
The chocolate in my chip
The smile on my face.
Love you, Studly.
Peace, People!
Psssst. Hey, you, yea you.
You got any good ideas?
C’mon man, I just need one.
That’s all I need.
Just a little hit and then I’ll give it up for good.
Oh?
I told you that yesterday?
My bad.
But, I picked up two more followers, man,
and they’re gonna want the good stuff.
I’m jonesin’ dude.
Yeah, I can stop writing anytime I want,
but you know, this ain’t the right time.
I’ll just write one more post.
I promise.
What’s that?
I should write about wine?
No dude.
I already did that like three times already.
Maybe I should find a new supplier.
You keep peddling that same old sh*t.
Pssssst. Hey you.
Falling asleep last night these words popped into my head:
I’ve lost Faith
Can’t find Hope
But I’ve still got Jane
If that doesn’t sound like lyrics to a country song, I don’t know what does.
I have a cousin, Effron White, who makes his living as a singer/song writer in Nashville. He’s quite talented. Maybe he’ll use my lyrics in a future song. Hey Effron, let’s negotiate!
Peace, People.
Playing with words:
A rudderless horse
A riderless ship
A butterbug and a ladyfly
Two conepines and a pinlinch
A bump that goes “thing” in the night
Beaver eagers and fly soxes.
As for Jomeo and Ruliette
A nose by any other name would still smell.
I got two hours of sleep last night. Maybe two and a quarter. My husband, Studly Doright, who by the way doesn’t have sleep apnea (we had him tested) snored all night long. And when I say he snored I mean he:
Snorted
Roared
Snuffled
Gurgled
Rattled
Plorked
And mmmphhed
Loudly
All night long.
There was never any pattern to the cacophony. He usually maintains some sort of almost hypnotic, metronomic rhythm that allows me to slip into sleep. But not last night. Just as a tango was established he’d switch to a rumba, then to a cha cha. There might have been a salsa thrown in, too. I would have loved a minuet, but that never happened.
I moved to another bedroom around 3:40 a.m. The cats found that amusing and wanted to play. I must have fallen asleep at some point, only to have Studly wake me up to kiss me goodbye when he left for work at 6. How very considerate of him. Thank you sir, may I have another?
Normally I’d have had the luxury of snuggling under my covers after Studly left for work, but I’d promised to meet an acquaintance at a fitness center for an early morning aerobics class. I went, and held on through most of the class, but I might have fallen asleep during the cool down. There was a trickle of drool on my yoga mat. I just hope I didn’t snore.
Peace, People
Praying for Eyebrowz 