Contributor Posts

A thought.
A frown.
A brainless
Old Clown,
On his way;
Going down.

My life will be over.
I won't even pretend,
When the time comes
And I can't pick up my pen.
Can I have a small prayer
and a hearty Amen?
If you do that
I'll always be your friend.

The path down the hillside,
through the slippery shale,
was taken carefully then,
but with little avail,
for my feet began sliding
down the rockiest trail.
Brace your feet in the stone,
don't let them sail,
as it can be dangerous
to avail a trail with shale.

The same old story,
retelling an old joke,
about a man on a tractor,
who was smoking a toke.
What does this mean,
you may ask of me?
I do not know,
for I write what I see.
I saw the tractor
and saw the bloke,
though his head was enveloped
by a large cloud of smoke.

A letter of love
I received an e-mail,
saying if I don't pay up
I will be going to jail.
I don't like it you see
when they say, now marry me.

Can you help me?
Can you help me, please?
Must I go to the ground
and get down on my knees?
For I need help, from someone kind,
as I search for relief
from this life, which I live,
with my old, old brain
so much like a sieve.

Hey there good looking,
would you like to dance?
Those questions are gone;
won't be given a chance.
Dancing is not allowed
during the modern romance.

Give me a topic.
Say the word to me
and I'll write out for you
a small, little personal ditty.

The new trucks are silent,
running on Natural gas.
The noise when emptying cans,
rattles the window pane of glass.

It is now 5 am,
which is all I will say.
My time for some sleep
has eroded away.

I look at the towel bar
on the bathroom wall,
realizing it isn't level;
not level at all.

A sip of brandy,
a beer and wine,
will tide me over,
until the Sunrise.
I normally don't drink a lot
but these days
are challenging my resolve,
to keep fighting
the good cause,
for that is all I've got.
A sip of grape brandy,
when starting the day,
will get the juices flowing,
it is what they all say.