Image by Gerd Altmann via Pixabay
I have to admit
I’ve been syllabically
abusive to you.
I may call you poem
or po-em, depending on
my need at the time,
not even giving
thought to how this makes you feel.
Please forgive me, poem.
And please understand
this earnest apology
stated at this time
will remain sincere
whether at any time I
choose po-em, or poem.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
Don’t like my string cheese stringy.
Don’t care for fishy fish.
Don’t want this squash-y thingy
that’s squishing in my dish.
I’ll take my eggplant scrambled, please,
with not-too-toasty toast.
I feel so sad for black-eyed peas,
and for the poor shanked roast.
My coffee grounds me just enough
to move on with my day,
but navigating it’s still tough.
Will curds show me the whey?
You’re nuts about my pecan pie,
but beef about my stew.
And I just chuckle, and here’s why:
It’s so fun ribbing you. 😉
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
Splinters were the worst.
Tweezers first;
Needles if needed
While I screamed and squirmed
And wormed my way
Back out to play.
Skipping, flipping
Chipping my tooth
(Now it’th loothe)
Palms muddied
Bloodied nose drips
Split lips
Both knees shredded
Splinter still embedded.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
Inspired by the line “when the purpose of knees was to be skinned,” from John Tobias’ Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle Received from a Friend Called Felicity
(Thanks to my friend Lydia, who gifted me the book that contains John’s poem!)
You’re cute as a button, you mouse,
Discovered today by my spouse.
You’re pudgy and furry,
But you better scurry –
You do not belong in my house!
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
😀
When the weather’s nice and sunny
but your nose is kind of runny
and you’re feeling rather funny
that’s a bummer.
Then your honey calls a plumber
for your runny nose in summer
but you’re simply in no mood
and so you sit there and you brood
and then you get into a tiff.
*sniff*
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
You are who I toast.
Not to butter you up, but
just to spread the joy. 😉
#seventeenineighteen
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
“Honey, you’re sweet as a peach!”
Funny, you ‘cling’ like a leech.”
Two peas in a pod, they’re each
Using a figure of speech.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
He was handsome.
Warmhearted.
Excellent mind,
when it mattered.
Nobody more well-
mannered.
Clearly he had the world
at his fingertips.
Then came the diagnoses:
and they were many,
and they were hard to stomach.
This unmasking of
high impact issues
caused setbacks.
He felt he was
plunging into limbo.
No more spearheading projects.
No more chairing committees.
No more researching solutions
at breakneck speed.
But then good news was delivered!
He’d been misdiagnosed all along!
The moral of the story?
Though I try bloody hard to be humerus
It’s all in vein.
And you know what else?
For as long as you have breath,
you’ll never not see noses
in diagnoses.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
I thought I thaw a thnowball
Up on a thnowy wall.
How fun to throw,
but I’m too thlow,
and what I thaw had thawed.
