As a reminder to set the clocks and all that. Here’s an alarm clock poem.
I roll over to hit the snooze bar
which is all in all, kind of bizarre.
Rather than getting up late
I rise early to procrastinate.
Hope you enjoy… and sleep in or something tomorrow. PS, I’ve missed you guys.
Untucked or tucked
I quickly turned around, realizing that something wasn’t right.
Leaving through the door I put the sign back in my sight
So that I could examine it and understand why
All those women were giving me the eye.
I looked back and forth between the two signs,
Then down at my shirt thinking mine’s
Obviously not tucked in.
The crumpled bill diet.
I just Passed a glassed trapper,
Containing a reflective wrapper
Framing a high fructose frustration
In my lack of a sugary sensation.
Looking through the force field of glass,
I punch in the code and pass
My dollar bill through the slot
But it’s not as flat as I thought
And the machine returns my dollar bill.
So I do some reverse origami but still
My single just won’t mingle with machines,
So a dollar less of candy fills my jeans.
I couldn’t help but look and think oddly,
He was a man trapped in a woman’s body.
This was when he was younger, obviously not now.
Now he was a grown man that somehow
Found the strength to stand up and share
That he had been stuck in there
For nine long months, unprotected on this earth
Until his mother gave birth, giving him worth.
If I had my choice, I’d not repeat
That warm feeling of heat
That caught me off guard today
In an uncomfortable way
As I sat on the toilet seat.
You come down the aisle
in ala carte style.
methodically, you lock the cabinet on wheels
that steals my attention,
It’s a survival-of-the-fittest thing
So that you bring
Me a drink.
Eyes look up
Longingly for a cup.
“notice me” they blink,
motioning for a drink.
“Fan-freakin’-tastic” I think.
Your serving everyone but me
I’m sitting here, hands free
Fingers on the traytable unfolded
Tracing an empty cup indention molded
Into the plastic,
Then your lips move setting sail
To words that prevail
In the motion of your lips.
A precursor to my sips?
I couldn’t hear what you said
Over the hum of the airplane,
Panic is sent to the brain.
Confused, I sniff my armpits
I thought the lips I read had said
“Good that you don’t stink.”
Turns out she had said instead,
“Wouldn’t you like a drink?”
But since I was checking for armpit slime,
I didn’t respond in time
And I’m now left with out a drink
Sitting in fictitious stink.
Absolutely I’ll ride the moving walk-way
Walk-on and sway
To get some sort of joy
Like a little boy
on an escalator toy
that doesn’t rise,
but smiles my eyes.
Absolutely I’ll smile
While you walk slower than me standing
Until I trip getting off and my landing
Catches your eye
Facebook Happy Birthday
Absolutely nothing that I’m about to say
Is going to top the others who consistently relay
A “Happy Birthday” message with a personal aside
But with this cut-and-pasted poem, I can say I’ve tried.
Taking down the Christmas tree
The most effective way to see
The needles flinging off the tree
Would simply be to set it free
From living room captivity.
Stripped of all of its décor,
We’ll try to get it out the door
Leaving memories once more,
As treeless needles on the floor.
My Little Fixer-Upper
I am constantly running out of space
In this absurdly small little place
I call my own. Clearly, I’m outgrowing
This mobile home. I’m showing
Signs that I need to get moving,
But with laziness improving
This fixer-upper’s frequently
Content with what you see.