Category: Humour

Alcohol’s Child

Funny, this present impulsivity –
am alone, overweight, a dreamer

self-propelled, looking for a friend
who doesn’t see me as last resort

not exactly beside myself with offers –
coasting asexuality (inside fickle)

will extend libations, marriage,
possessions – am willing to sell all

like an automaton, will deliver
drinks, manufacture abundance

Child of alcoholics in attendance –
a comic, in charge and hesitant

at ease, I am hopeful, the original
leisure queen – avoid rows at all cost

live for the moment, dream of beaches,
never married, non-conforming, team

quencher – will promote any dreams
(but my own) – like a mechanical bull

dizzy, in need of social management
or at least, a friend who finds me worthy

all needs met here – delegate away –
I am soda pop refreshment, slightly

oddball, restless, and okay, a little
needy – just not able to befriend myself.

Sales Tips

When selling a car, advertise
particulars – make, economy,
road worthiness – appeal
to labouring egos, mindful
of overheads, override objections
with promises of emotional gains,

everyone knows the vehicle
makes the man – corner lust –
it’s the money-maker.

Selling produce is all about
visuals:  market fresh- picked
(sanitize green harvest, mode
of transport, or exorbitant
gains) – organize stands
with optimum appeal,

everyone knows processed foods
lack nutrients – targetting health
conscious is the bottomline.

Selling self requires adaptability
experience counts, of course,
better to project confidence
than to stumble over failures,
project willingness to learn,
brush over personal rights

everyone knows that conformity
trumps self-love ; sealing the deal
is the name of the game.

(Image from 2social.ca)

Business Venture

Victim, whose season is always Autumn,
bloodied tears like fallen leaves trailing;
and Martyr, for whom worship and self-
sacrifice is a dietary requirement; propose
to venture into retail ownership – recreating

a former failed attempt; believing that if
you build it (again) they will come, as Ego
has promised.  “Well, it worked for that
Kevin guy,” Victim agrees; Martyr’s eyes
shine with adoration and eager anticipation.

Spirit says:  Let it rest.  Leave the past
where it belongs; there is a time for
everything and with patience your
future will reveal itself.  No need to
grasp; learn from failure and move on.

But Victim is headstrong, has something
to prove, believes her finest moments
are in the past, is certain she can change
it all if given another a chance, and Martyr
well, she goes along willingly, has faith…

They’ll serve the public, create a niche
that no one can ignore, save the world
with each item they sell, market health
and cure-alls, and invite miracles to
grace their square footage and forget

about reality, and bills, and licenses –
refuse to let overheads dictate downfalls,
convinced they are divinely guided,see
evidence in the motley crowds drawn
to their recycled vision, scheme to find

a new location, mooch off the unsuspecting;
Victim swearing not to repeat old patterns,
Martyr offering up her life, her family, to save
the dream – It will be okay, Ego says; It will be
okay, Victim echoes; It will be okay, Martyr beams.

Spirit emits a silent sigh, has watched this
carousel ride for some time now, has a strong
inclination as to where this road will end, yet
knows that lessons can only be offered, and
perspective only gained through release.

 

 

Compulsive

Malls possess a certain allure –
contentment-in-a-bag offerings,
an opportunity to escape reality,

except gossip travels in crowds
and I tend to shop for obligations,
will latch myself onto any drama

and take ownership  – it’s small
town training:  I am a passenger
on the responsibility rail – would

kill my own mother to gain lost
authority, be the person in the
know…lose these thoughts of

failure to the distress of disbelief
that we missed the signs, lacked
insight, could have been there for

someone more needy… Have you
seen me, browsing stories?  Career
changers are good, fired up youth,

father’s foibles… Don’t be taken
aback, I can be officious, intentions
not misguided – just need to fix one

piece of brokenness to assure myself
all is not totally lost – this shattered
core, this fictional characterization.

How much simpler life would be
if I shopped like normal people,
found relief in mall discounts…

(Image: tropicalcyclocross.com)

Vegas Vampire

Envision Vegas – the first time –
adrenaline pumping, palms itchy,
wide-eyed incredulity, and …

the most unreliable, stuck-in-the-mud
relative in tow, and no reservations made;
and while one wants to dive in the other

would rather be home knitting and
listening to bird calls than  traipsing
through costumed Elvis’ – glitzy hotels

are too taxing, so a more reasonable
accommodation must be sought out.
Add to that being stalked by a vampire

whose leering eyes suggest somebody’s
going to lose vital energy, likely soon,
and even though the 24 hour crowds

and lights, and bells, and musical strains
beckon, this party ends up off-the-beaten
track, in a non-neon efficiency – practicality

business number one, and Dracula has
checked into the same room – a guaranteed
killjoy… this is disability on New Year’s Eve.

(Image: www.horrorhostgraveyard.com)

Love In Aisle Nine

Lust ignores warning signals,
fancies itself a savvy consumer,
commits minor infractions with
confidence, sidestepping anxiety.

Loneliness – near-sighted – shops
without discernment, fails to
recognize that all life is transient,
and patience is the key to harmony.

Love – the main attraction – is not
a lone chauffeur, a self-serving
commander, feeding off helplessly
disabled, regressing into insanity;

nor is it initiated by determination,
a product of drive – brokenness
barreling through hurt’s congestion,
misinterpreting openings; the path

to intimacy requires compliance,
obeys service, calms egos, a slow
non-consumer based passage: no
bargains in the commitment dept.

(Image: imagineinfinitycoaching.wordpress.com)

Passion Exposed

Seduced –
the virility of youth
irresistible even for an old
duck like me –  so unexpected,
relentless, I ignore exhaustion
lean into the fantasy, allow
desire to embrace me,
cross a boundary,
surrender…

step up
to the stage,
bare-chested,
shameless, speak
into the mic, reveal
my words: those
childlike bits
of myself;
hope

my passion
does not offend,
the blatant sexuality
of my tongue, my voice,
raw desire, peaked arousal,
does not mar my reputation,
pathetic, really, that one so past
her prime should dare to grace the
boards – surely a younger woman’s game.

(Image: www.aspersstratford.co.uk)

 

 

Party Adverse

Will not catch me gavotting
at a party in the Carly Simon
vein – am reluctant at best,
certain my flaws are neon,
fear scrutinizing attention.

Throw a boss in the mix
and I am all bumble, cringe
with each idiotic phrase I
utter, terrified to implode –
immortalize my inadequacy.

Course, it’s all nonsense –
arrogance really, to imagine
others give me a second
thought, and typically, once
I settle in, I find a groove.

Seems I possess a certain
expertise, have endeared
trust;  in fact, in my self –
absorption have forgotten
to prepare my boundaries

protect against the influx
of attention seekers craving
validation or advice from me.
Isn’t this a strange state of
affairs; I the coward suddenly

thrust into such a position,
but such is life – pain begets
compassion; a trained listener
when it comes to issues of
the heart and mind – despite

personal misgivings, I find
a place, am challenged to set
aside imagined criticisms, even
actual betrayals, and extend a
hand to someone in greater need.

Might even be inspired to offer
an invitation – momentarily losing
sight of social anxiety – dress
myself up in empathy and break
bread with another – imagine!

 

Discombobulated

Conceding ability to focus,
yearning for a cause; tired
of sticking myself out, only
to be brought down; stilted

by this life, sick of taking
second best – No, I’m not
holding up – never the early
bird; or king shit – sagging

like breasts hitting thighs;
always showing up single,
slightly used, ripe for easy
pick up, dubious covers –

have rooms full of history,
would otherwise be retiring,
but unless God has some
secret passage, Heaven

only tortures me; a magnet
for worries – my problems
have more vision than I do –
once carefree, now I pray for

responsibility exit; wouldn’t
recognize Mr. Right if he
came in unannounced, seem
to cherish would be enemies

(not related, at least), store
intentions behind lollygagging
pursuits, rationalize guest
appearances from control;

seek support from transients,
am obligated to any protecter –
(affairs please apply within) – am,
as I said, conceding ability to…

(Image:  www.fluentu.com)

th-1

Goldfish Reflections

I’m a freshwater gal,
prefer murky, stagnant
pools to the onrush
of rapids, currents

annoy me, challenge
my delicate body,
content to feed off
lanky foliage, swim

in dim-lit passages;
fear it was the flash
of gold, or glimpse
of a mermaid tail

that first attracted
man, compelled him
to trap then breed me
artificially – in glass

houses, distorted
worlds colliding with
my sensitivity, absent
safe havens for retreat.

Worldly now, tossed
into constructs called
ponds – added rocks,
footbridges or lily pads

do not deceive me –
cellular memory is
not to be quieted, I
dream of night skies,

and morning dew, and
sun baking the water’s
surface, of diversity,
schools and families

cannot tolerate this
one-flush destiny,
need space to be –
not an illusion of

recognize my captivity
for what it is – concrete
walls cannot define me;
the wild, the free burns

deep – thousand years
of containment has not
defiled my DNA, and I
will remember long after

that final plunge, in
reincarnation may not
be so forgiving – no
longer a timid fish.

(image: http://animals.mom.me/goldfish-live-4748.html)