I Still Like "Nice Guys" Better
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMXIV)
So morning is a warmly golden tale
Of all last season cherished, heat from hence
To be expected like folk wanted, whence
Let these enjoy their cut-offs still, the trail
Ahead full with such pleasures like t'avail,
Where setbacks trouble me as if fr'intents
My place is not quite here, or sans defense,
Til I maunt smile is't? Elsewise which detail?
Alas! Lo, I must train agin?! In poor
'Scuse my time's NOT me ain because those two
Would rather pass the buck til I as t'were
Pull all the work ALONE. What shall I do?
At least he's nice; drinks all my coffee. Stir
Fun in our last hour, as LORD, I wait You.
11Oct24
(Guess I musta been leaning on the desk too much Friday?)
My Wrists Are Killing Me?!
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMXV)
Say "road construction" nice and slow, til sense
Wakes up to realize "parked" upon the trail
To yonder is no jest at all. Avail
Me of the wilder flowrs as we sit thence
Upon the highway, driving some pretense
Stoked by whom thought it meant to travel. Frail
As aught excuse, I find no means of bail.
And "late to work" revives its image. Whence?
Have baby back pork ribs, pork egg rolls too
For lunch, and breakfast's omelet'd languish, poor
Though aught reply cuz, hunger sated, were
There else to eat, a spinach smoothie'd do
For in between, as I'm mixt up. Stir
Thyself and oh return, LORD. We wait You.
12Oct24a
Looks like "Party OVER!" now.
Don't Look At Me... I'm Getting NOWHERE
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMXVI)
October's but twelve days in, and the trail
To yonder looks as bare as erst wont hence,
Trees naked by the score as yellows thence
Look orange for age, and drop. Oh me! In frail
Excuse it's "Game Oer" ere I realized. Hail
Next season with the usual mourning, sense
In black, as Death stalks joys like no defense
Exists. What happened to the féte's detail?!
And wherefore am I yawning, listless, fer
All that, so very dull?! I'd coffee to
Be certain, in a big mug too. In poor
Reply, now eat Chobani under blue
Heavns no rain haunts, and be as t'were
What, eh? What do I need to do? Seek You.
12Oct24b
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 13th, 2024 11:06
- Comment from author about the poem: Well, he repeated Daddy's line "...less is more--" and very graciously drank every drop of that late morning coffee I brewed him, insisting that song was a parody of Eminem... and after that, I dunno.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments6
Tremendous work.
You're too kind, thank you very much!
Wow! Great!
Oh, wow, thank you!
The more you do the more is expected is the rule. Another fun read.
Love it
Thank you!!!
You're welcome
"I Still Like Nice Guys Better" - wisdom beyond your years - however long they may be.... Oh - woz it a song?
Eminem's is the original, apparently, and "Nice Guys Finish Last" is allegedly a parody and much better song. One of my six brothers introduced me to the latter, it being his complaint. I loved it.
Thanks for an informative history, Missy.
You Missy are a credit to your species ma'am .. but it aint no bloomin wonder them they're wrists are giving you some jip .. You need to slow down some ..
Either that or? Funny, reality took some twists after that and I suspect I'll not need to worry. But I'll try to remember your wise advice. Thank you so much!
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