You May As Well Convulse Into Hysterics

Why so serious?
Why all mysterious?
Let laughter overcome you,
Fill you up,
Body and soul,
It’s one of the rare things,
That can make a broken soul whole.

Its presence,
Heightens the appeal,
Of a personality,
I look for it,
To come from deep inside the belly,
To consume the whole being,
So much so,
Mind and body become unworkable.

After quick observation,
If one doesn’t possess it,
And would rather stress,
Or beocme depressed,
Communication,
Must come to cessation.

It’s like some peoples,
Have a stick up their ass,
The temperament,
So ramrod straight,
They’re very easy to hate.

I knew someone once,
Humorless and solemn,
Who would have been,
One in a million,
Except he didn’t know,
How to laugh and relax,
So he had to be told,
To make tracks.

One of those all-natural cures,
That’s been around for years,
But no one uses it these days,
Without first checking it over,
Thirty-thousand ways.

A real miracle medicine,
All it’s values are pretty impressive,
It even stops excessive aggression,
Preventing you from committing sins,
Amongst other things.

Better to be loud and bold,
Than cowed and cold,
Despite what you may have been told,
Go ahead,
Get drunk on it,
Altogether lose your head,
Save the gloom,
For your own private tomb.

Random Reflections

Things that could never happen,
Like a tree falling down,
And skinning its knees,
Or the sunrise,
Making the world appear to blacken.

Things that are a given,
Like a tropical cloudburst,
Causing flooding,
Or a vehicle gaining mileage,
Each time it’s driven.

Things that could never happen,
Like a laceration,
With blood that bleeds blue,
Or a cow dancing around,
Singing and clapping.

Things that are a given,
Like a stuffed animal,
Being full of cotton,
Or a loved one’s murderer,
Being unforgiven.

Things that could never happen,
Like an African elephant,
Squeezing through a doggie door,
Or a runaway animal stopping,
When the reins slacken.

Things that are a given,
Like Christmas decorations,
Bringing thoughts of cold and snow,
Or you pushing the door labeled out,
While trying to get in.

Things that could never happen,
Like life not changing,
As years fly by,
Or the stars rearranging,
To mend all misfortune.

Things that are a given,
Like hair growing back,
Each time it’s cut,
Or an asthma attack,
Being an actual brush with death.

Things that could never happen,
Like a fan,
Being enough in summer,
Or a marching band,
Providing good entertainment.

Things that are a given,
Like a dog,
Being the most loyal of beasts,
Or a rotten log’s,
Heat being brief.

Things that could never happen,
Like complete silence,
Bringing on deafness,
Or absolute reliance,
On a sworn enemy.

Things that are a given,
Like making it home,
Bringing a sigh of relief,
Or needing a comb,
For your morning routine.

Weird, But It Works……….

Prayer and whiskey,
Does that combo sound crazy?
Oh but darling, trust me –
It works splendidly!
Now add some sunshine to that mix,
And you got perfection, bitch.

Laying in the sun,
While sipping on a strong, strong drink,
Then thought of a prayer,
Just sent it up,
And the problems disappeared,
Right into thin air.

Even if they were still there,
I would not fucking care,
I wouldn’t feel them anymore,
That’s for fucking sure.

I’ve got that whiskey numbing my blood,
And protection,
From the Lord above,
I’m golden,
Thanks to the outlets I have chosen.

Good to go,
Because I’ve let it go,
The shit show,
Has all but been forgotten,
And it’s fuckin awesome.

Our Association To The Ocean

While looking out,

Over the ocean,

I was wishing I could bottle some up,

Kind of like a little potion,

But after thinking that through –

It’s not necessary,

As there’s something ocean-like,

Already inside of you.

Every day we make waves,

Some on the surface,

And others internal,

Ourselves we may not realize,

But when seen through another’s eyes,

They move a bunch of life’s bits,

Causing eternal changes,

To happen in every size.

Each and every one of us is powerful,

In body,

In mind,

Or in both combined,

In some it’s kept hidden,

Then in others it shows,

Whether it’s been brandished,

Or has snuck out unbidden.

We can all be colorful,

And yes sometimes that’s wonderful,

Though at other times,

Not so much,

Maybe our good moods,

Are like the Caribbean Sea,

Beautiful,

Translucent,

And aquamarine,

And our bad moods,

Are like the Bay of Biscay,

Dark,

Stormy,

And seeking prey.

Woven here and there throughout humanity,

Something sure smells fishy,

Of course I mean that figuratively,

I am referencing those with salty personalities,

Hence is the notion,

That they’re like the ocean.

Before

What is done,

And what should be done,

Too many times,

Are two different things.

Life at this time,

Has lost its shine,

Do people’s dirty little tricks,

Too make your stomach sick?

Let us rewind,

Hundreds of years,

So as to get away,

From so many vile liberal minds.

I’ve been known to wonder,

Why wasn’t I born,

Way back when?

Eventually though,

It’s concluded,

That I was,

But then,

Like everyone does,

I was reincarnated,

Time and again,

Until now here I am,

Part of this modern world,

That’s congested with hatred.

How many previous,

Lives did I lead?

What did I get up to?

And did I succeed?

Does that even matter?

To these I’ve no answer.

I’m sure there were many,

Some in the times when being rich,

Required barely more than a penny,

And other souls were so far off,

That a walk to visit neighbors,

Would wear a hole in one’s socks.

I hereby suggest someone,

Invent a spell,

That can take a body back,

To when things were simple,

To when for the most part,

Society was civil,

Rather than sinful.

I beg of you,

Let me go back,

To whenever it was,

That my first life was lived,

Modern conveniences be damned,

The peace would more than make up,

For what I would lack.

Moose On A Mission

Here is the story of a moose,

Who heard some people,

Like eating pies of chocolate mousse,

And so went about searching,

To find the Chocolate moose,

So as to save them from the fate,

Of ending up,

On people’s plates.

“They must be bitter and cold,

Like the winter months,

To think of eating one of us”,

Thought the Regular moose.

A make of moose called Chocolate?

He’d never heard of that,

It must indeed,

Be a rare breed,

Or he’d have heard,

Of at least one herd.

This particular moose,

His name was Deuce,

He was born and raised,

In the North Country,

In deep woods running along,

Interstate Ninety-Three.

It occurred to him,

That Chocolate moose,

Might not even live,

In a forest with birch and spruce,

Maybe they were farther off,

Where palms grew,

In flatlands of sand.

“Aha”!,

Thought Deuce,

“I can disguise my search,

For the Chocolate moose,

I’ll tell the whole forest,

I’m going on a vacation,

And I don’t know for how long,

Will be the duration”.

So he got his affairs in order,

And made sure to grab,

His lucky quarter,

Then he was off,

His undertaking a secret,

So his friends wouldn’t scoff.

He did not know,

Whether to look high or low,

As he’d never seen one before,

He did not know,

To what size,

A Chocolate moose might grow.

Every so often,

He would stop to speak,

With whatever woods creature,

Had a minute to spare,

He had conversations with ants and with bears,

But none had heard,

Of a Chocolate moose,

Living anywhere near there.

It took him a week to get to Florida,

Walking half the days,

And all through the nights,

Where he inquired with all the exotics,

Although they made him quake with fright,

But after quite some time,

Seeing no new leads,

He acknowledged it was time to head,

And in another two weeks,

Arrived in California.

Needing to gather his thoughts,

That first night after dark,

He made his way,

To a beach in Malibu,

And took a swim until,

He worked out his muscle knots.

All throughout the next few days,

He asked spiders, sharks, and lions,

And after being satisfied,

That they were not lying,

He started to trek back east,

But no,

He was not ready to admit defeat!

There must be a way,

To locate the Chocolate moose,

And keep them from dying!

Now Deuce decided,

That to not have at least a little fun,

Would be outright retarded,

Enough chatting with those,

Who gave him the creeps,

He would visit,

The City That Never Sleeps.

Now,

The answers we seek,

Tend to be revealed,

At the most unusual of times,

And so it was this time,

For after searching weeks and weeks,

He learned that eating Chocolate mousse,

Was not even a crime.

Deuce arrived in New York City,

At the start of a busy weekend,

He made his way to Central Park,

Where he found some woods,

And napped ’til almost dark.

About the time he woke,

A voice on the nearby trail spoke,

Said she to her chum,

“After that run,

My favorite chocolate mousse,

Would go down so yum”!

“Oh this is too easy”!

Thought dear little Deuce,

“I’ll follow them,

And be led right to these Chocolate moose”!

And so,

From a safe distance behind,

He kept the ladies in his sight,

Hoping with all his might,

That the Chocolate moose she hoped to devour,

Had not yet been prepared,

In the pastry made of butter and flour.

Really,

He did not know where he was expecting,

To find this unheard of breed,

But to be sure,

It did seem strange to collect it,

From a bakery.

Yet that is where they were,

And as it was a pleasant evening,

The business had propped open the door,

So he heard them make the order,

Then watched them go take a seat,

At the table in the corner.

Moving then,

To stand at the wall,

Where he could hide behind,

The two decorative pines,

While looking in an open window,

It pretty near blew his mind,

When the food was brought,

For there was no meat,

It was actually a sweet!

Hmmmmm……….

I don’t know why,

A storm rolls in light before sound,

But I do know this,

The rain it brings,

Makes the browned ground rebound.

I don’t know why,

Black is associated with evil,

But I do know this,

Colorful things can be lethal,

And darkness can be regal.

I don’t know why,

Trees can produce paper,

But I do know this,

If we keep being takers,

We’ll regret it later.

I don’t know why,

It’s normal for heads to grow hair,

But I do know this,

I’d wear a lot more hats,

If up there were bare.

I don’t know why,

Green means go,

But I do know this,

There’s always at least one,

Determined to go too slow.

I don’t know why,

Good belongs on the road less traveled,

But I do know this,

It’s supposed to be worth it,

At the striking of the final gavel.

I don’t know why,

Pies are made round,

But I do know this,

I’ve found they’re not worth,

The extra pounds.

I don’t know why,

We let machines replace people,

But I do know this,

Progress’s side effects,

Spiral down,

And cause something else to cripple.

I don’t know why,

The movie is never as good as the book,

But I do know this,

So many will never know,

Because the book they’ve overlooked.

I don’t know why,

It’s impossible to get out of life alive,

But I do know this,

Lately it’s a wonder,

If there’s anything left,

For which to survive.

I don’t know why,

Hearts are commonly drawn in red,

But I do know this,

It makes perfect sense,

Because any time they’ve gotten hurt – they’ve bled.

I don’t know why,

Wasted time seems to fly,

But I do know this,

What you must do next,

Will force your expression to wry.

I don’t know why,

The sun doesn’t shine at night,

But I do know this,

Missing its light,

Doesn’t make the dark,

Any less of a welcome sight.

I don’t know why,

Time can’t stand still,

But I do know this,

It would be a convenience to have it at the beck and call,

Of my own free will.

I don’t know why,

Fire is hot,

But I do know this,

It makes marshmallows,

Taste as they ought.

I don’t know why,

All religions believe themselves correct,

But I do know this,

It appears they all,

Need to be fact-checked.

What Does The Wind Say?

Just like us with souls and goals,

It seems to have many sides,

Also expressed by voice,

Which we all hear,

Without much choice.

How good it feels,

Prancing across my skin,

As I’m outdoors soaking in sweat,

Working hard,

So as my needs will be met,

Still though,

That is not its reason,

To be out today,

It’s speaking a language,

Meant for one of its own,

Meant for another,

Of nature’s wonders.

Whether it’s letting out a shriek,

Or a sound almost meek,

I listen with interest,

And try to imagine,

What might have happened,

To spark its voice into action.

I hear it raging down the ravine,

I know it’s not talking to me,

But rather to,

The old oak tree,

Still I wonder what it’s saying,

The way I hear it howling,

It’s sounding mighty mean.

The other night,

It whipped around real strong,

Blowing in all directions,

Not letting up,

The whole night long,

Was it maybe forewarning a comrade,

Of some coming mourning?

During a storm,

Letting out ferocious gusts,

Could it just be playing rough?

Or is it emanating its power,

Over some rebel flower?

On a warm calm summer day,

All is still,

But the slightest whisper,

As it lightly puffs,

Not even strong enough,

To raise a cloud of dust,

Now where did that come from?

And why did it even bother?

Was it maybe murmuring some reassurance,

To the Mother Earth?

Down by the ocean,

It’s heard loud and clear,

In the lap of the waves,

Against the shore,

When its voice gets louder,

The waves pound fiercer and faster,

Showing the world,

Just whose voice here is master.

If Only I Could Raise The Dead

*************************

Forever grateful I would be,

If you would but come back to me,

Haunt my life,

Make it again worthwhile,

And bring upon my lips a smile.

Feel free to be a weekend visitor,

Or a constant in my world,

I’ll take anything my friend,

Just to unite with you again.

*************************

If you feel like coming home,

I won’t tell anyone you’re here,

So next time you decide to roam,

I hope you end up near.

Don’t you worry,

Your place has been saved,

Never to be taken by another,

Now what are you waiting for,

To knock upon my door?

I’ve heard that these things happen,

And I know if you appeared again,

Wrongs would right themselves,

And this life full of desolation,

Would soon be dazzlingly bright.

It’s a sure-fire bet,

If you’d show your silhouette,

It would brighten my days,

Better than Florida’s sun rays.

If you’re waiting on an invitation,

Well here it is:

“You are invited”!

And for more than a vacation,

I’ll see that the way is lighted,

If you be sure your journey gets expedited.

Creepy With No Name

She saw bright red eyes,

Following her,

And knew they must be part of a body,

Covered in fur.

She would sometimes speculate,

As to whom or what they belonged to,

And she made quick to navigate,

The well-worn way,

That over the years,

Her feet had trod,

Over the sod.

So many things,

Could be the owner of such awful eyes,

And so many reasons they could have,

For using them to spy.

As far as she could tell,

She was the only one who went this way,

And so she settled on the sentiment,

That the way was haunted,

And the Thing was not,

A Thing Heaven-Sent.

For how could it be a human being,

When the eyes in its head,

Glowed such a fiery red?

And when it was out,

Only when most peoples,

Were abed?

A werewolf?

A demon?

A possessed fellow human?

Tonight,

Thoughts of what it was that lurked,

Ran rampant through her mind.

*************************

Dinner-time was long past,

And getting safely home,

Past that thing that roamed,

Seemed a barely attainable goal,

And even more so,

When she heard that feral growl.

Assuming it to be The Thing,

With adrenaline,

Her blood began to sing,

She was frozen in place,

Then before too long,

Something raced and filled the space,

Between it and her.

Nosediving into a boulder,

Smashing her face and shoulder,

She thought herself done,

And expected any minute,

The Thing would tear her to pieces just for fun.

She could feel it,

She could hear it,

Something sniffing around her fallen frame,

She lay all still and quiet,

But inside her head,

There was a crazy riot.

After nearly a minute passed,

She ventured to open her eyes,

And then,

She got a big surprise,

For there,

Right there in front of her,

Not more than twenty feet away,

Were the bright red glowing fiery eyes!

*************************

And through the immobilizing fear,

Her mind began to work again,

Why was it,

She could still feel her aggressor’s breath,

When she could swear that was he,

Right there up ahead,

And slightly to her left.

But there was not much time for theorizing,

For whatever was sniffing at her,

Was too drooling now,

Like she was steak and fries,

And the red eyes just leapt through the air,

Headed right towards her,

Oh now!

What else was going down,

In this living nightmare?

*************************

And so there was a wrangle,

Between the one actually evil,

And the one mysterious,

With devilish eyes,

And would you know,

She was in for a surprise!

Indeed,

An entity did reside,

On her path,

But it had defeated,

The one who had left her mistreated!