There once was a gnat who hungered for gees.
He nawed and he nashed on narly young trees.
The nome, his old friend
warned the gnu round the bend,
he’s coming, use Deet, as fast as you please!
In limerick style:
3 long and 2 short lines, aabba rhyme.
We walk, you in front of me
one created flesh and bone
the other born of sun
elongated faceless gray.
Seamlessly
we stroll the beach
arms out wide, now close in
darkness plays with light.
I stop you stop
your head turns as mine.
We follow a gull’s flight
rising from the sea.
If I turn, reverse my course
will you dance behind,
like the kite that zigs and zags
when its master loosens hold?
Revised, revisited from a very early post. How I love Cape Cod and playing with my shadow!
There it was. Audition.
Wanted: 100 dancers
for three months prep
to perform in Boston’s Copley Square.
No experience required.
I did the same thing,
twenty years ago
in Iowa.
Auditioned.
And was selected to perform.
Ninety-nine hoofer-wanna-bees
plus Gene Kelly and me.
Thousands watched us
in the Big-Ten half-time show
or took a trip for hotdogs
and the john.
So I did it. Again.
And made it.
Again.
Ninety-nine plus me
two nights every week.
Loud fast rehearsals
with slow
every day repeats
at home
to video
online.
I should have known.
I was twenty years older
not newer
and certainly not digital.
One month to go.
On our burgundy shag carpet
five-six-seven-eight
and again
right-turn-slide-spin.
Repeat at studio
on unforgiving wooden floor.
Five-six-seven-eight……
Crap.……dancer down.
Legs sag. Muscles be damned.
Relegated to RICE.
Rest-Ice-Compression-and-
– – oh hell. I forget
what the E stands for.
Originally posted on March 23, as Self-Portrait: Dancer Down, just my third post ever….revisited and revised. No Likes then, no comments, two followers (my family members)!
….and she looked at me
frustration in her eyes
anger on her lips
and screamed sooo loud:
Can’t you just somehow,
get all your ducks in a row?
I know, I know. The picture is of geese. But eider way ~ the scene on the Charles and the pun ~ make me smile! Just havin’ a little fun this AM with my morning cup of coffee….enjoy your day 🙂
Breeze whisper-whistles through window
lids struggle with sand-grit eye corners
brain muddled like dislodged silt
no sun, energy slogs, slowly moves
gives in, gives up, covers over
it’s a turtle kind of day.
Pull down pale green husks
some easily, others with a yank
discover soft fine silken hair,
gossamer strands cling to yellow gems
kernels of sweetness
in perfect rows of delicious.
Assaulted by bubbling water
slathered in butter
ear by ear, cob by cob
they succumb to energetic chomping
sacrificial sustenance
for the Summer Devourer.
Drowsy day snippets
up too late
trying to find some words
pen in _ _ _ _
words flit in _ _ _ out
eyes a _ _ _blurred
mind foggy too
time to give _ _ up
and j_ _ _
take a _ _ _
zzzzzzzzzzz……..
He took to soap and water from an early age,
standing on a stool, sleeves rolled up
playing in the suds.
As a college chap,
he was a regular with his chums,
second stool from the left at Chauncey’s Pub.
Not in it for the guzzling,
he liked to watch the suds drip down his glass
and feel the foam against his upper lip.
Retired now, no children of his own,
he’s become a summer legend
in the neighborhood corner park.
Washtub at his feet,
nets of string on two long poles
he dips and waves, and dips again.
Magic billows out across the lawn
this man, doing what he loves
is now, and always has been
the bubbles man.
She tickles my funny bone
two front teeth, gone
bare space, a badge of honor
exchange rate higher now
fairies demand more.
She slung words at him like wild pitches
and he shrugged them off for years.
Until one day,
she threw a perfect strike.
Well, what can I say?
The Red Sox are in the basement and we Boston fans need a bit of humor!
lillian the home poet 