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Showing posts from May, 2011

The nation is controlled by

The nation is controlled by deviant mutant aliens from another galaxy.

First contact was established in Ancient Egypt. We mutants had to buy Cleopatra off. The slaves were no problem. The pyramid design opened a door into our solar system. It was all part of the Master Plan.

The second group, also aliens, scared the hell out of the Inca. There were too many white faced hairy sightings to ignore. Our gifted writers and artists shared. They used leftover blood as ink. Sacrifice was later outlawed and we left. The jungle took over.

We aliens later financed the Hollywood film industry. Drugs were routinely administered and abduction, a regular occurrence. We carefully implanted the ancestor's seed. We ignored the prime directive. Clean-up is beyond our compliance. The producers have run amuck.

My father, another alien, was banished to this planet due to a selective hearing problem and a low tolerance for rule adherence. Mom was an artist. She went to the dark side of the moon ahead …

For Better or Worse

Who Knew?
It used to be different
Your parents picked one out
You maybe got to meet him once
before the big day
And that was that; simple, right?


Today we have endless possibilities.
We get to shop
pinch, squeeze,
check for soft spots, and rotten cores
before we put them into the cart
and bring them home.

A sharp few get free samples!

Parents, relatives, the family pet, the goldfish, plants
and the residual offspring
from the last vain attempt at matrimony
all get a shot at playing detective.
If he looks, sounds or smells off
it’s over.
And so it goes, back and forth, round and round
until the happy day you say, I DO!
Especially if there’s a dress, cake, crystal and fine linen.
Never mind you are in hock for the next hundred years
And that the bank gets what’s left of your anatomy
You are in love!

Everything goes really well throughout the honeymoon
Just that little scuffle, over nothing really, too much luggage
But he’s perfect; he picks up after himself and; get this girls,
HE CAN C…

Published In Hawaii Fishing News

My poem "The Great Pacific Garbage Patch" is posted in the June issue of Hawaii Fishing News. My husband and crew had a recent encounter with a large cargo net, his story is called "No Fishing Tale". Both my poem and his story are on page 19!! Photos by David E. Johnson.

They're Loose!

Bull Mastiff puppies
explore their territory
hunting for tidbits.

Nothing else survives
on their watch. Chickens, lizards
observe puppy time.

To dance with these bulls
requires fancy footwork
most drop out, first day.

The English Teapot and the Ceramic Pitcher

T:The Queen sends her regards. She trusts her subjects are well?

P: I am humbled, that the Queen would take the time to ask. What does her royal highness think of the current world view?
T: What do you mean?
P: Why, the end of the world dearie! Do keep up!
T: Ah yes the end of the world, The Queen is taking a no comment approach to this matter. Personally I believe it is pure and utter nonsense.
P: Oh yes, well down here in the trenches, we are taking bets. Right now it stands at 100 to 1 against. So, are you in?
T: Good gracious NO! I have my station to consider. It wouldn’t be proper. After all what would the Queen say?
P: The Queen is in it up to her eyeballs! She’s wagered the crown jewels against it but she’s a crafty wench! The royals will stay in power either way.
T: So what kind of liquid are you holding?
P: Nectar of the gods, dearie!Dark warm ambrosia, guaranteed to cure what ails you. The Monks have been working on this recipe since the Dark Ages.
T: What’s the recipe?
P: I’ve been s…

Asses and Elbows

Image
*** Image of Contortionist by hagenrock on photobucket.com


Look Mom, I can stuff
my head plus one elbow, up my ass.
Quick come see, what do
you think of this? Maybe I
could get a job in the circus
you know one of the sideshows?
Say yes, please, pretty please? I promise
to send the extra money home.
What do you mean, what about the dog?
Of course, him too! I’ll make him
part of the act.
He can hold the flashlight!

I Should’ve Had a V-8

Tanka 5-7-5-7-7

Should have stayed in bed played with the puppies, practiced Zen meditation taken stills of three Pacu gliding through cool clear water.



On the Prowl

 A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc... until line nine that finishes with just one syllable. It can be on any subject and rhyming is optional.




Sprawled atop the comforter, clever
white whiskered kitten cries and purrs
wrinkles tiny nose at twin
scratches mirror double
meows at smudge when
mouse emerges
game changes
hunter
food.

Roar

Volcano's red howl excites rare Hawaiian goose, lava cracks dwelling. 

They Don't Bark

His didn’t.
Three months and forty pounds ago
we loaded
our new puppies, two Bull Mastiff brothers
into the
back seat of the car.
Our little bundles of joy
playful, cuddly, lick your face
tail wagging
pistons of power.
Muscle pups
that fly
eat rocks
like tissue paper, and
leap through the air
like they were shot
out of a gun.
Small giants
still growing.
Two heart throbs
tweaking
evocative cords.
That chatter in tongues
that only their mother,
a brawny brindle lass, with pink toenails
that lives in Aiea,
could appreciate.

Meanwhile
Uncle Zeus
his most royal Great Dane highness
has completed the first round
of inspections
and graciously agreed
to teach them the ropes.
So far,
he has taught classes in:

  I.   The Perimeter
 II.   Mapping out the exact corner where the neighbor’s dogs live
III.  How to mark your territory
IV. Where to drink water out of the pond
 V.  I have the bone and you can’t have it
VI.  Midnight Howling

They all got an A
in that last subject.

I am so proud.

Ou…

Blood Sport

I see you over der Zeus.
Did ya eat?
Did ya have a good breakfast?

Oh, Oh What are THEY eating now?

Apollo, don’t eat that! What is that?
OMG, He’s eating shit!
NO, Apollo
Ehh, Ehh! Ehh, Ehh!
Don’t EAT THAT!
PEW, talk about ya bad breath!
Drink Water Apollo!
Go rinse ya mouth!

Rocky?
NO, Rocky, Eh ,Eh! Eh, Eh! Leave that chicken ALONE!

OMG, that feral chicken is in his mouth.

He’s clamped down on it.

Oh shit, the chicken’s ass is gone!

There are feathers everywhere.

I can’t look!

No ZEUS No,
not you too!

Apollo stay!

Zeus!
Rocky!

God, are you watchin this?
I need a break!

Little Monsters

The door slammed,
echoing down the long hall.

Mom gasped,
Quick, hide the wrappers,

the cookie monsters are home!

Pacific Golden Plover

Aloha, Rain Bird flies home to Alaska.
** Plovers migrate home to Alaska during April-May and are back again August thru October for the winter.

Beach Walk

You got ya walkers and ya talkers.


Oh how cute, are they PUPPIES?


SIBLINGS?


What BREED Are They?

After tha first few minutes and
definately by tha end of our walk
I got tha speech down.

Yeah lady,


Dey’re Bull Mastiff braddahs


five and half months old.


Der well behaved, even tempered and


Yeah, dey’ve bin NEUTERED!

Look at those PAWS!

Yeah Lady
Der gonna be massive!

Only Five Months, Looks like You’ll Have Your Hands Full!

The puppies want ta say hello ta everyone.

Rocky likes ta wade in da surf, gonna catch a big one!

Apollo wants ta inspect everything on da sand,
pick it up
chew on it
and den spit it out. He’s da smart one!

YO—AND dey like ta drink der water outta
a plastic water bottle too.

Some people just walk on by
dey like to look da odda way
not dog people, I guess?

Der walkin- is more important
gotta keep dat heart rate up
or you ain't aerobic.

Won't be able to eat dat
extra donut or MacFlurry
if ya get my drift.

But, like I said
You got ya talkers
And ya walkers

Later!

The Dark Side

Rain Bird Launch Party 2011

Image

Rainy Day

I’m old and cold my body creaks
my posture is inflamed,
I am resigned to be confined
my teeth have been reclaimed,
but I won’t lie, I’d rather die
before I go insane.
***

The yard, a pool
for howling dogs
to paddle in a boat
will rush and swish
reward a fish
for flying over moats.
Oh happy fish
I sure do wish
to eat your white fillet
but I must swish
instead of fish
And so my meal, I feel
will get away, today.

Freelance

I've carved a creative niche
bitter sweet
difficult to deal with
as I saunter down your street.

My verse is clipped
And NO, I’m not a waitress
my heart beats true
my wits, a tender matrix.

I’ll stay for endless hours
to snap a simple view.
I direct my burning lens
to puke a primary hue.

It may affect your estimation
you see I have a reputation
It requires lots of concentration.
MY degree is in DEDICATION
to MY WORK.

You can’t be caught obscene
with dis drama queen.

Yeah my BAD
I mean
my gear is often stuck in
some balls hairy
places
lacking social graces
with dried egg plaster
embedded in our faces.

I’ll frame
you full of life
smug and satisfied
bare-assed naked
soaked
in all your lies.

SNAP DAT!

I am an artistic dish
itching
to generate, maybe palpitate
because I can imagine
you was once a gift, your mama’s boy
her pride and joy
intact, a sap-- JAIL-BAIT
that wouldn’t DREAM of being late
or make me wait
full of phony excuses
foul abuses
to face the boozers
sucking users
that …

Thor’s Hammer--A No-Show!

Thor’s hammer threatens
Kolohe Wahine golf
at Pearl Country Club.

Weather remains dry
forecast updated to cloudy
thunder a no-show.

Five Women golfers
laugh hysterically over
piss poor performance.

Saimin and Pepsi
lunch, revives tired bodies
Sun comes into view.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom!

She gets up early
to dress and shower.

Today she will slide
into a comfortable pair
of slacks, large top,
and Reeboks.

She will comb her short gray hair
clean her glasses
take another Aleve
as the coffee brews
while she straightens up
before she gets into her car
to drive into town.

It is Sunday.

Today she will earn double time.

Tomorrow she has the day off.

Tomorrow she will celebrate
eat pizza at the mall
with her youngest daughter
the one who remembers to call her every day
the one who drives Dad to the Doctor
and isn’t too busy
or too far away to spend the
afternoon with her Mom.

No Flowers

Send me no flowers


no pretty petals

velvet soft.

Send me no long stemmed

beauties

whose dewy fragrance

waft.

Send me no posies

that require

casual note

if you care.

for they will surely die

their purple blooms

will choke

into a speckled brown despair.

Send instead

a cactus or a weed

that will not wither

or get into a dither

from neglect

that can be left

to survive in a

brown thumbed void

unchecked.

Pleasant Dreams America

Obama proclaims

Osama bin Laden, dead
pleasant dreams tonight.


The Barber

He looks competent enough


standing there in his white shirt and dark trousers

as he makes slow deliberate steps

in a well worn semi circle

pivoting left and right

his sharp scissors shaping and clipping

carefully clicking along to a favorite tune

as dark mounds pile up on the floor

a shaggy witness to his art.

A trusty comb is well positioned in his back pocket

at the ready, set for its cameo appearance and then placed back

as the razor continues to hum

as he finishes up the Asian man before me

his neck freshly shaved and brushed

as the cologne is dabbed and the smock is removed and shaken.

The black and white checkered floor

quickly surrenders her dark wispy curls

as he turns from the polished chrome

and black leather chair

and announces

the next lucky customer.

It is gripping

like a one act play

and I am in the front row

then he looks at me and smiles repeating the invitation.

I smile back

it’s too late to retreat.

I walk the lonely mile

and surrender my locks

to his sharp shea…