THE SKY & I CRY
The sky keeps crying.
Dry inside, I keep crying
So nonstop, Iām also drying
With the salt of my tears
First, before dying of thirst
From drinking ocean water.
Iām Fireās daughter, and Father
Wasnāt pleased to see me spurned,
Twisted, overturned, and diseased,
Pleading with Drought to come out.
But Drought isnāt a spout, or so
It shouts each time I let rain out.
How long was my hurricane season,
And whatās the source of its reason?
I canāt say WHY, all I can say is its
Tenure is sure and has endured for
Three years; the LAST ones without
A shred of sun. How was it done?
It wasnāt even partially fun!
I experienced a dearth of worth, so
Doom and gloom took over the earth
To be my roomies. I became SO gloomy,
I leaked until I achieved a record rate
Of rainfall, a fact I canāt mitigate.
Iām now sorry to prognosticate rain is
Pain and its stains are my downfall.
When I cry out a downpour,
I breathe in the grim and poor
And pour down even more.
I close a door to stay indoors, only
To start a flood of nothing good
Coming any way anymore.
Iām also vain, so I have to complain
About my swollen and salty face:
I need libations of hydration to erase
The throbs of pain pelting my brain.
These are my āMonsoon Rains,ā
And if they donāt abate soon, best
Make more room on Noahās Ark, cause
No one but Noah knows that Iām a
Scaredy Cat who hides in the dark.
Poems Futuristic, Romantic, and Painfulš§Øš
Every Day is Tomorrow
-
HEAVEN-SENT CHRISTINA
I have a few friends Iām all in for, since
Theyāre always there and always fair.
Christina is one of the best of them, so
Hereās a poem I wrote to note her
Kindness, compassion, royalty,
Loyalty, and heavenly fineness.
She may appear tiny, but sheās mighty
And down to earth, and though busy,
Sheās never dizzy nor in a tizzy,
Sheās merely pretty with a comely
Demeanor which doesnāt demean her.
So Iām sure youāll agree thereās no angel
More lovely than Christina Anywhereā£ļø
Whether adoring on ground or soaring in air,
Sheās always the āmas finaā angel there.
She makes and brings food to my brood,
Feeding us with her winning attitudeā£ļø
Itās unfortunate earth angels must drink
From water-thirsty aquifers which sink
Us into another extended drought,
Since apparently waterās running out!
We need moisture to keep beauty in place,
Everywhere and on the faces we
disguise
To keep our inner beauty unrecognized.
Most guys in our town are clowns who
Masquerade in costume as worthy grooms.
Yet WE must polish our own haloes
And wash our own wings, which are
Very difficult things to do solo or down-low
On ground, where we get no golden crowns!!
This shoots us down without a sound,
And itās tragic not magic that our love is
Always true, always free, and canāt be bought.
This is why we were captured and caught,
But if we each GOT a second chance,
I want charm and romance with a man
Whoās strong, tender, kind, and wise.
Otherwise, other guys are deaf, dumb, and blind,
Since few see the divine running through
The feminine shine resting on us two.
Weāve lived long lives and itās our time.
So I pray Heaven makes a way in 2025
For Christinaās and my lonesome doves
To surface with the purpose of making
Our dreams come true, since thatās what
Long-awaited soul mates love to do! šš -
CONFESSIONS OF A SCARY BITCH
Iāll hunt you down
And eat you up;
Iāll screw your flesh,
Thatās not enough.
I wonāt stop there,
Iāll eat your hair
And poke your eyes.
Iāll make you scared;
Youāll try to hide.
You will be found,
Iāll be the one
Who drags you down;
Invades your corpse
Until youāre stuffed.
Iāll spear your head
To take to town,
Crawl through dead eyes
Until Surprise!!!
Youāll soon find
Youāre Dead and Blind.
You thought me nice,
You got me wrong.
You thought me weak,
Iām STEROID STRONG.
Iāll search you out,
You WILL be found;
Iāll fill and drown
Each coin and tear,
Then wash them down
With a brew of fears.
Iāll find your corpse,
There wonāt be much.
Iāll eat whatās left;
Your bones will crunch.
Donāt ask me to cry
When I eat your lunch,
Cause itās YOUR time to die
And Iāll tell you why:
Your taste is vile.
Your smell, rank and file.
Your demeanor, much meaner,
Is both infantile and coy.
You masqueraded as a Man
When you thought me a fan,
But when shit hit the fan,
You evaporated into a boy. -
WHAT I INDELIBLY REMEMBER ABOUT SEPTEMBER
If September eleven took folks to
Paradise,Nirvana, and Heaven,
Why does it still hurt our scared hearts
Regular folks were forced to depart?
I believe weāre collectively extremely sad
Other moms, dads, and singles were
Made to mingle, taking final breaths,
United in a violent and horrible death.
Though it makes me sick, I predict
Americans will always think of 9/11
Whenever we reminisce or remember
The entire month of September.
I canāt believe itās been 23 years, and
Infinite shed tears since that fateful day
When innocence was forced to pay an
Unquenchable debt held by the West
To prove us neither ābestā nor āblessed.ā
So when Terrorism met Tragedy, it set
Its sights of violence on Humanity, since
Life-takers caused life-makers to meet
Their Makers before God, Allah, and
Mother Nature were ready, killed by the
Steady hands of each man who disguised
The villainous hatred within enemy eyes.
Instead, the rest of us were numbed
As lives succumbed on 9-1-1 when
Terrorists weaponized the gift of flight,
Provoking death at heavenās heights
While we all held our loved ones tight,
Riveted as Terror saw no error in sight
When planes were targeted to inflame
The gilded might of the Twin Towers.
It didnāt hold the structural power
In that desperate early hour.
In freedom and safety, I currently bask,
So I feel tasked to ask how we can ever
Forget what terrorists donāt regret?
They crashed our own commercial jets
To scratch at a fanatical debt held
Solely and absurdly by the West.
My condolences to the many families
Of victims who soothed global hostilities
Temporarily, unfairly, and arbitrarily.
Those of us NOT in the air or anywhere
Near Ground Zero werenāt heroes, since
Weāre still alive to ābe all we can be,ā at
Liberty and free to believe we can achieve
Our wildest dreams, rather the nightmare
Of the screams of those dying and scared,
Huddled into puddles and gasping for air.
So I guess itāll always haunt me,
Confuse, and mentally taunt me
That, unwillingly yet vicariously,
Strangers paid my debt for me. -
UNLEASH THE FRIGHT AND LETāS FIGHT!! šš
Breast cancer is lifeās final answer!
Iāve survived with no children to survive ME,
So why am I alive instead of better peeps?
This type of thinking keeps me sinking
To the point Iāll take up drinking
When I Should be thinking how to cure cancer;
The only appropriate answer so that we –
Rather than the dreaded disease-
Are the Cure that ENDURES!
Just a little reminder from a two-timer š
-
RHYMES WITHOUT LINES
Iām killing you with drilling,
Feeding and filling you with
Rhymes in your head.
I urgently need to be fed
With gummies which still
And soothe minds with
Funny crap most folks
Donāt even laugh at.
Oh well, drats for that!
I donāt really like to joke
Since Iām hopelessly broke,
And hope doesnāt float!
Thatās all she wrote
Since Iām not here to
Promote myself; I prefer
To actually hide my hell,
Not kiss and tell,
And not pass mustard
By being so crass as
To mention the passing
Winds of long-trapped gas.
If you opine about the why
Iām not fond of Scatology,
Iām publicly acknowledging
I had class in the past,
But those days have passed. -
Donāāt let your guy get a Girl Crush on me
Because itāll only lead to jealousy.
Talk dirty, buy some lingerie, and kiss him on his ear.
Heāll whisper the words you long to hear.
But if you take no action, youāll soon be
Driven to distraction with Fatal Attraction!š©ø -
SEARCHING FOR EMOā¦AGAIN!!
Hello! Itās your favorite indecently-clothed adult bird (AKA, the one and ONLY āBIG BIRDā), walking down Poppy Street before heading left on Sesame, because God gives no rest to me with all the nut jobs and bad seeds who live on this street!
I hate it to admit it, but Iāve been tasked to track down an immature nitwit and foolish ass who thinks he lives in A Looking Glass!! Doesnāt he know he needs a BOWL or watery hole if he wants to swim? š
So, yes skewered viewers who are no longer friends, Iām SEARCHING FOR EMO EVER YET again!!
Iām been condemned to search for him since producers have indulged him and his ridiculous āWish to Be a Fish,ā divulging itās a-ok to chase each errant WHIM.
Since heās both spineless and fin-less, his stupidity is stupendous! But even without functioning gills, heād still make us all ill! š¤®
His flaws are endless, but I have to shorten and finish this āpoison penā to vent on āthe Internet,ā a concept our show āforgetsā but hasnāt āofficially acknowledgedā yet.
But who even cares or cares to listen? We teach simple letters and the parents play forgetters. Still itās all goal-driven and fully forgiven. At least with no villains, parents neednāt be scared about the killinā of innocent children.
Poems Futuristic, Romantic, and Painfulš§Øš 