With suitcase in hand as she leaves, the thought of it drives her to heaves. Oh what joy it might bring but it isn’t her thing, so she now leaves it up to Rick Steves. © Marie Elena Good, 2021 (Would love to know who to credit for this image.)
“No more pennies,” we
were informed, and we could make
no cents of this change.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
(Hardly a poem, but it was fun to write!)
Her argument couldn’t be finer:
“Don’t want you to think I’m a whiner.
I’m not just a shirker
I AM a hard worker!”
She said, from her threadbare recliner.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April PAD Challenge: Day 4 – Writer’s Digest (Day 4: Write an ACTIVE poem).
I put my feet up
and sip down hot tea,
then fall fast asleep.
(That doggone T.V!)
I climb up the stairs
and head down the hall,
then into my bed
I sluggishly crawl.
Too soon I wake up,
‘cause I have to pee.
*sigh* Back down the hall …
(That doggone hot tea!)
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
The once-mighty turkey is … slight.
There’s not a potato in sight.
The gravy’s spread thinner –
More snack-like than dinner.
The fridge was attacked late last night.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
The Blob was unearthed
in the year of my birth.
It debuted the iconic McQueen.
Still, I’ve not seen a scene
on the cinema’s screen.
(I’ve an awkwardly fragile fright gene.)
But the theme song is neat –
it is hip and upbeat.
For a ‘horror’ble soundtrack, a feat!
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
In case you are interested, here is a link to the theme song. And yes, I feel old! 😀
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=theme+song+from+the+blob&docid=608056112507847468&mid=E4288864AB1DBA1089BBE4288864AB1DBA1089BB&view=detail&FORM=VIRE
This debate was more civil than first.
But responses seemed vague and rehearsed.
Though some orderliness was restored,
Many questions were simply ignored.
Undecideds, I’d just like to ask:
Did you learn who is up to the task?
Or perhaps you just think it’s a crime
that the fly did not get equal time. 😉
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
My first job, at The Niles Bank,
I worked between two men who smoked.
The office held a haze that stank.
I wanted to speak up, but choked.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
He says hi there;
she says hello.
“Which floor?” he asks.
She doesn’t know.
His finger waits,
then starts to tap.
Her face turns red.
She thinks, “Oh crap.
Why can’t I think?
Just pick a floor!”
Her brain congeals.
He taps some more.
“Just. Pick. A. Floor.”
That thought now slips
from clotted brain
through tense, pursed lips.
With sideways glance
and impish smirk,
he presses 12.
(Joker? Or Jerk?)
Long, silent ride
can’t end too soon.
It seems to take
all afternoon.
She ruminates
entire ride,
should parting words
be kind? Or snide?
She isn’t sure
how this should end –
Just like my awkward
poem, my friend.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Photo of “The Bean,” by Poppa
When your leader suggests disinfectant,
ingestible or an injectant,
should you chuckle or cry
or heave a big sigh
and wonder what you were expectin’?
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Okay so part of me feels guilty about this one, but we gotta laugh, right?!
