Category: Observations

Old School

This is old school writing.
It is how I learned to write.
It is probably not for the
“younger generation.”

I write my thoughts.
Sometimes they rhyme.
People read my thoughts.
Sometimes they complain.

Nowadays, this should not
Just be words in stanzas.
There should be a video.
It would have me reading.

I would read the poem.
This way, you can just listen.
While you listen,
You can see me.

Nobody wants that.
Maybe just the words
Scrolling on the screen.
A lyric poem.

Watching it takes longer
Than just reading it.
Plus, before the video,
You can see an ad or two.

Also, the rest of the page
Should have stories about
My life, my wife, my dogs.
Anything that inspired me.

I am sorry, but I am old.
You do not have to film words.
You do not have to read to me.
I can read it by myself.

Another Trip Around The Sun

I woke up this morning.
Blind Faith was playing in my head.
That was a good start.
I may be old, but I’m still not dead.

I couldn’t remember the rest of the song.
Just one line stuck, because the singing’s sublime.
I hadn’t had coffee, but also, I’m old.
“When I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time”

It’s “Can’t Find My Way Home”.
Thank you, Steve Winwood.
(Thank you Wikipedia for reminding me.)
It’s melancholy but it’s so good.

The only problem with the song
Is the stuck line that he penned.
There are better ways to start a birthday
Than by repeating “near the end.”

Another Year

This is the last day of the Big 6-0.
A year that sucked from head to toe.
I broke my ankle and my foot.
Then COVID made us all stay put.
I left the house to see the surgeon.
Otherwise home, a vestal virgin.
The most excitement we had seen?
The line to get our new vaccine.
The year couldn’t have been much worse,
But at least I avoided riding in a hearse.

Dinnertime

Katie is a lovely dog
She knows that she is mine.
She only has one tiny fault.
She cannot tell the time.

Katie knows that dinner time
Is every night at seven.
So, she starts her dinner whine
At six-ten or six-eleven.

Sometimes, this will work.
I will feed them early.
Katie learned that dinner time
Arrives some nights prematurely.

Katie knows that dinner time
Is every night at six-fifteen
So, she starts her dinner whine
At five-thirty, six or in-between.

Once the whining has commenced,
She never tends to drop it.
Only puppy food in quantity
Seems to make her stop it.

Katie knows that dinner time
Is sometime after four.
So, she starts her dinner whine
Sometime the day before.

The one part of my dear Kate
That never needs explaining.
She only has two speeds in life,
Sound asleep and loud complaining.

NaPoWriMo 2020

Closing out NaPoWriMo 2020.

A month of poems has gone away.
I think I only missed one day.
I never wrote about my spouse.
Hell, I barely ever left my house.

Please don’t shed another tear.
I’ll be back again next year.
Deadlines make me write each day.
Even when quality goes astray.

Stay six feet apart,
Keep your hands clean.
I want to do this again,
While not in quarantine.

Rocky’s Anniversary

Rocky’s eighth birthday is today. Maybe.

Rocky arrived here
Eight years ago today.
He was limping pretty badly,
But still wanted to play.

He was hit by a car.
His back legs were broken apart.
A lady dumped him at our vet.
It was a rocky start.

(He’s actually named Rocky,
Because he was a Chihuahua
That took on a Cadillac.
Adriaaaaan!)

We were going to foster him,
Until he found his perfect home.
He never made it off the couch,
He wouldn’t leave us alone.

He’s been with us eight long years,
He thinks he runs the house.
He’s killed a couple of snakes so far,
And one quite bloody mouse.

So, here’s to Rocky FosterPup.
He’s our favorite little shrimp.
He’s running all around the yard
Because he never learned to limp.