Generic Pat Poems Patti Likes

CONTENTS

GENERIC

Somewhere in the Darkness

In Desperation

Subject of Reality

Roses Grow on Rocky Ground

The Willow That Will Survive

Some People are Chosen

Strangest Poem Ever Written

Dying is a Crazy Way to Kill the Blues

A Minute Past

Dark Night

The Home Building Rhyme

My Gift for You Two

Poem for James Marcal

HUMOROUS

My Jaguar New

I Woke Being Reassembled

The Story of Leprechaun Riley O’Brien

A Tale of Barking Woe Caused by Fatty Dog

REALLY ODD

In a Teacup Afloat Dream (Clown Afloat)

Naughty Wet Fat Cheetos Eaten With a Fork

“My Brain’s Mysterious Word Bend”

My Dog’s Poop or Poo

KIDS

Dolphin Fleas “O” (Cheerio Fleas)

Does a Witch’s Nose Grow?

The Tale of Black Buzzard Tex and Black Blob

In a Teacup Afloat Dream (Clown Afloat) – Children’s Edition

Children’s Version – The Home Building Rhyme

GENERIC

Somewhere in the Darkness

Somewhere in the darkness the sun starts to rise,

A storm is rolling in darkening the skies,

Nature belies the events that nature has begotten,

The force of nature is such that she shall not be forsaken,

Never will starlight fail to fall from heaven upon our earth,

The gentle twinkle continues to announce a child’s birth,

So many stars that each child could hold title with name,

Often overlooked are the heavens, much to our shame,

Enjoy and preach the virtues of mother planet,

She will provide for every child born on it,

The annoyance of people’s greed outweighs the child’s need,

Pray some day we unite and no longer live with greed.

In Desperation

In desperation I plan to amend and I need to atone,

Two embattled parties because I wasn’t alone,

My America died in the fifties I’m very sure,

Things were so much better then though not pure,

My heart has broken and in my memory I feel pain,

I remember knowing some as they yelled my name,

Protesters weren’t friends of the troops,

If you believe that to be true you’ve been duped,

Taken by force of a draft board’s call,

How can you the protester blame me at all,

My mind is a disgrace and shock treatment was strong,

Thinking with impairment my mind is sometimes wrong,

I’m mentally disgraced deep inside of me,

No matter how I try I just can’t manage to see,

How things would change by hitting and spitting on me,

I pray I find peace somehow, I don’t need sympathy.

Subject of Reality

The subject of reality makes most folks laugh,

Sometimes when it’s approached like a gaff,

You have to treat the reality of the subject,

In the laughing manner you do when you reject,

Finally figuring out the position you believe to be true,

Positioning truth to be believed is not hard to do,

If unhappiness and shame are side by side,

It’s a shame that the unhappiness isn’t taken in stride,

Subjecting stride to subjectivity is hard to understand,

Let’s walk in stride through the land hand in hand,

Let’s discuss reality and truth as two positions,

Then unhappiness and worry will never be your possessions.

Roses Grow on Rocky Ground

Roses grow on rocky ground and flowers abound,

A cactus blooms from hot sand and desert ground,

Beauty is in the darkest of spots if only we could see,

Magnify an insect’s wings or look closely at a bee,

Beauty is found in the worst of times and places,

Just take a look at young orphan faces,

Sometimes it may be hard to find and see,

Mostly it’s found in our mind and our idea of reality,

Beauty is sometimes what we choose to see,

The darkness of spite and hate will lead you blindly,

Find your enemies beauty one bright day,

Your life will be more fulfilled in every way.

End

The Willow That Will Survive

The willow that will survive has will indeed,

It was small in stature and had a lot of need,

A rooftop’s tar and blown dirt provide little to grow,

Then along came Isaac with will power and green know,

Uprooted from the rooftop and set free in soil,

The little tree whose will to live you could not spoil,

Soil in a cup is better than soil and grease on a rooftop,

This little willow tree whose growth you cannot stop,

Pity taken and a replant into a bucket gave two years more,

Little did this little tree know what Isaac had in store,

Planted again but this time given a permanent home,

A place where branches could grow tall and roots could roam,

Little willow loved its new home and soon welcomed Mathew there,

Rooting taking place and branches reaching high in the air,

Another birth soon and a little angel named Sarah was there,

Our tree is now majestic, shading the two with love and care.

Some People Are Chosen

Some people are chosen to be heroes and known,

Some heroes are hidden and never to be shown,

Silent heroes sometimes don’t even know they are,

For some heroes their badge is a fading scar,

Being a known hero is a burden to some,

It’s a title that they wish they hadn’t won,

While the flamboyant hero wants all to know what he’s done,

No matter how, they probably saved the life of someone,

Hats off for the courage shown to be a hero,

Accidental or thought through, we should let them know,

That what they did is appreciated and we thank them so,

For the person they saved could be someone you know.

Strangest Poem Ever Written

I tried so hard this morning to ignore the pain in me,

The motion even slight is so painful I don’t want others to see,

No desire to face the day is the hardest thing with which I deal,

Nausea brought on by kidney and liver pain is horrible and real,

Exhaustion is a permanent reality of a continual internal bleed,

Sleeplessness from pain and vomiting means sleep I need,

The only reality of comfort is my mind being on someone else,

I would much rather think of Patti than think of myself,

You would think that else and self don’t rhyme but said with rhythm do,

Never in poetry has this type lesson been said but in a poem for you,

I have to write but I mostly think of her so for Patti I write,

She is my world and actually she’s my guiding light,

In poetry you can refer in third person, about, and direct to you,

It’s all ok and whatever works you’re allowed to do,

So I return my mind and thoughts to loving you again,

I’ll love you forever but to make this rhyme say, “remember when?”

Dying is a Crazy Way to Kill the Blues (lyrics by Patrick King)

I feel like hell and don’t know what to do,

My emotions are weak and keep me blue,

The woman I love loves to torture my being,

I’m telling you this so you can be seeing,

How a man gets hurt and it’s ok to cry,

But I’ll be loving her even when I die,

Dying is a tough way to kill the blues,

It’s a crazy way to pay your dues,

She’s done it again, left me alone,

When she’s not here it’s not a home,

I feel so bad, I’m crazy and sad,

Might be high, yea just a tad,

Have a drink or two and another drink,

When the brain’s dead don’t have to think,

Dying is a tough way to kill the blues,

It’s a crazy way to pay your dues,

When the funeral starts you’ll find out,

The ones that love you without a doubt,

Too late now cause you can’t go back,

Keep drinking outta that paper sack,

She says that she loves me but I’ll soon see,

When they throw that shovel of dirt over me,

Dying is a tough way to kill the blues,

It’s a crazy way to pay your dues.

A Minute Past

It’s a minute past the last chance to be held tight,

Awaken to the world with eyes open to accept the light,

Memories are all we are in life; that’s the reality of it all,

Someone may wake to the morning with no ability to recall,

With no thoughts tied to the last processed moment all is gone,

History of love is gone in the mind and time will move on,

Time’s distance will exceed the chance to reunite the mind,

If the memory of you is gone are you still alive with no rewind,

One second past the moment he smiled with love in his heart,

Prior to that second his mind processed knowing each part,

A memory or thought is all we are if you think it through,

Without memory recall will he still know you as the loved you?

Weeping and tears will flow wishing that second would omit,

Each second the same except for the sad second that did it,

The memory of the moment when the memory ceased is sad,

In someone else’s life it is the best second they have had,

Always loving is only always loving if the memory is there,

Pray listen to these words of despair and take time to care,

I am but a memory of me in your mind with love if in the memory,

Take a moment and think will you always remember me?

It’s a minute past the last chance to be held tight,

A second past the last dance in the last night,

A moment too late because of the urgency gone,

Just missing the music is still sadly missing the song.

End.

Dark Night

In the darkest of night I realized so very much,

The reasons for love, departure, loneliness, and such,

It was the enlightenment of which scholars had sought,

Knowing such knowledge could put me out of touch,

A decision was made between myself and just I,

Such knowledge being precious I realized people spy,

It must be contained within me the wisdom I now hold,

If greedy I could turn such knowledge to precious gold,

Soon I was adrift in thought of treasures that could be,

I was a little embarrassed, though no one knew or could see,

It’s not like me, I thought, to become greedy from something held,

Soon the thoughts of greed stopped as if someone yelled,

The exhaustion of thought so deep and filled with greed,

Left me near sleep before I thought of those in dire need,

Monies to be given so cancer, AIDS and such are gone,

Those type gifts even help to keep our economy strong,

Feeling better about the greedy self I had crossed in path,

Better thoughts alone soon brought my conscience’s wrath,

Fortune received, I thought, must be shared with everyone,

Especially when benefit is there for all, overlooking none,

Give to all, I thought the secret is one I should not keep,

Thinking so deeply for long left me ready for a long sleep,

I woke ready to share with the world what I now knew,

Waking thoughts made me realize it all revolved around you.

End

I love you baby.

Home Building Rhyme

I am young, I am as young as I am,

I’ll never be old enough to eat spam,

Of pig my favorite bite is of cold ham,

But I’ll remain a kid and eat plumb jam,

As gravity grabs my bags and pulls down,

I won’t let it drop my lips edge to be a frown,

Now for my grandkids I may dress as a clown,

And since I am the King of Chill I’ll wear a crown,

Note how perfectly constructed each line in rhyme,

Is made to extend just a bit more each and every time,

Let’s see just for fun since I feel so young in my prime,

I’ll find words to describe youth in a downward climb,

I rise in the morning and listen to each joint crack,

Perhaps rise is improper if referring to my back,

But when I see my wife I plan for a love attack,

Invigorating a part is achieved plus cardiac,

Whoa boy I’m a man on fire inside of me,

I’m a youthful man when I’m sexually,

As climax comes old age must be,

If you look, our home you’ll see.

The end, by Pat for Patti.

My Gift for You Two

Hello, my son for you I have a surprise,

Properly used it will help penny wise,

It’s like magic what I have bought for you,

I bet my grandson Riley will enjoy it too,

You’ll find things you’d never dream were there,

But I know for certain you won’t find used hair,

Unless of course a bullet put the hair there,

It’s the bullet you’ll find entangled in dead hair,

That would be gross, to find such with this,

Riley, you may get rich and give grandpa a kiss,

I’m sure by now you’ve figured this out,

A new metal detector is what this is about.

Poem for James Marcal

You are a broken spirit of the night,

Whose wings seek air of flight,

He who has a broken spirit,

And must carry the pain with it,

From high in the sky you see well,

Sighting she that delivers a spell,

Upon your heart she takes hold,

Speaking love words laced of cold,

Yet you make effort to sing loud,

To the audience he sings proud,

Tightly tuned ears hear each note,

As he sings words to her he wrote,

Tear drops in his heart go unseen,

Those that know watch him so keen,

And a prayer goes out that he survive,

We also give thanks to see him live.

The end,
by Pat for James Marcal

HUMOROUS

My Jaguar New

The stereo in my Land Rover is awesome to extreme,

It takes me to my studio and of songs I write in dream,

The bass pulses so deeply it places my heart in rhythm, too,

The ultimate pleasure of my stereo is to share it with you,

To take me to a level beyond is what’s in my “Jaguar New,”

Oh my “Jaguar New,” the things dual super chargers can do,

Meridian speakers so divine the heavens must hear the sound,

AWOL Nation singing “Sail” into my mind lifts me off the ground,

Instruments so crystal clear in both my rides it lifts me to the sky,

When so engrossed I have such a heavy foot that I could die,

Thus, I conclude it’s best to listen to the sound when in park,

The ultimate thrill in my Jaguar New is kissing you in the dark.

I Woke Being Reassembled

I woke being reassembled by you late one dark night,

I was quite upset at being apart and tried to put up a fight,

Your expertise in assembling human parts left me quite amazed,

Quickly you said to me “you’re lucky that you were only grazed,”

Now all of this seemed quite strange to me, just to awaken this way,

I wondered how you acquired such skills since only yesterday,

Nonetheless I was concerned about me being so apart,

Then you said, “be still so I don’t stick you in your heart,”

What could have caused these strange events to unfold,

Plus, what was it you might pierce my heart with; what did you hold,

Next, I was really shocked, and I mean it was a shock that was real,

Answering me telepathically you said, “I’m using electricity on you to heal,”

The shock of the current running through my flesh and bones,

Must have changed my voice because I only emitted tones,

“What the hell is going on,” I thought to myself, “is that really my wife,”

This time to my surprise, tones emitted and said, “you bet your life,”

Strangest of strange, trying not to think and have my mind read,

In English you comically said, “your mind is pink and gray, not red,”

All this humor, speaking telepathically, and surgical skill,

Strangely I’m attracted, but in our vows this wasn’t part of the deal,

“What do you mean,” I thought to myself thinking you would hear,

“Only grazed, who was shooting at me?” read my mind, please my dear,

Busily you kept working so I thought you could no longer read my mind,

“My mind was on something else,” an answer came, “I was trying to find,”

“Isn’t this just like her”, I thought, ” to leave out words when in mind speak,”

Then vocally you said, “watch what you think or I’ll make your dick leak,”

I was so happy to look up and see a humorous smile on that beautiful face,

You were busily reassembling me as my parts were everyplace,

Relieved to see that smile I asked how a graze did so much damage,

You thought to me, “honey, remember you stopped to pay homage,”

Once again I’m at a loss, what the hell is going on around here,

Opening my skull I heard you think, “here it is, you’ve a chip loose dear,”

Suddenly it all became real clear as you said, “let me turn on the light,”

It was a dream and I was able to sit up much to my delight,

“Boy am I relieved,” I thought, “imagine Patti being the brains in all this,”

Amused you said, “be careful what you think and give me a kiss.”

End

The Story of Leprechaun Riley O’Brien

To my readers, Riley is one of our grandsons. Riley is the son of James, our son and his wife Robbie. Riley is a creative child and at the age of five had created the persona of Mr. Squidstone, a monocled, top hat wearing, handle bar mustached upper lip, cane bearing, villain of a man. Recently I received an email picture of the same sweet grandson bearing a beard and mustache appearing as his own. I bestowed upon him the handle of Leprechaun Riley O’Brien. Then, I thought what happens if the two personas should meet? Thus, “The Story of Leprechaun Riley O’Brien.”

Riley O’Brien the Leprechaun was a funny little lad of lads indeed,

He was best of friends with a gnarly man that appeared mostly greed,

Mr. Squidstone with his top hat and eye was a tall presence to behold,

A strange friendship indeed because leprechauns are so fond of gold,

And the friend of this friendly little bearded Irishman loved the little lad,

Little Riley trusted Squidstone while others envied the friendship they had,

The mustached, one eyed fellow had many friends whose gold disappeared,

Yet steadfast in trust was the little guy nicknamed R by those he was reared,

“I’ll black your eye,” he’d yell out to those that spoke a bad word of his friend,

Many would ask if two are never seen together what message does it send,

Poor Riley O’Brien being of such sweet heart that his kisses left sugar lips,

So sweet was this little fellow that his lady friends grew large shapely hips,

All the while Mr. Squidstone with his greed manipulated a penny into a dime,

And the riches of all the land would be old Squidstone’s if given but a little time,

Now old Riley R, as his grandpa said his name, began to worry just a little bit,

Worry crossed his mind as Squidstone’s greed was a thing he couldn’t forget,

Many in the land began to wonder about this strange friendship in their land,

Another troublesome thought was why haven’t we seen the two hand in hand,

Now Leprechaun Riley O’Brien was so sweet it broke his heart to hear talk of such,

Riley knew old Squidstone well, he wasn’t greedy, he just appeared so too much,

One morning ol’ Riley woke to find Squidstone’s attire upon his face and head,

The monocle in his eye had left an imprint, no doubt Riley was he to his dread,

Squidstone agreed that day to Leprechaun O’Brien’s new rule of just one little thing,

Riley O’Brien is now past tense as is Mr Squidstone too, I am just Riley, the “King.”

The end, by Grandpa

By Pat King for R

I love that little lad.

A Tale of Barking Woe Caused by Fatty Dog

I awoke this morning but I didn’t really want to,

An ugly little dog repeatedly barked right on cue,

As it continued I wondered why it would do that,

Maybe for a treat explaining why it’s so very fat,

It’s most likely spoiled and Fatty does as it pleases,

It’s master or slave comes running if Fatty sneezes,

A smaller fat dog stood by, I guess as bark back up,

These dogs are yappers, both brains fit in one cup,

Now, I’m not one that wakes to insult dogs of breed,

But the yapper breed lives by but one barking creed,

Perhaps if the unmerciful barking goes on all day,

I’ll find a noose and see what “slave” has to say,

Now my niece is a wonderful beautiful loving me child,

But her forever yapping dog is driving me totally wild,

And anyone, though rare, that loves me I should keep,

But if “it” tests my will not to “kill,” I may start to weep,

I’m very good at kill so I hope Fatty doesn’t test my will,

Sadism isn’t my trait but I did imagine one act of thrill,

In a bark-nightmare my boot is against Fatty’s fat head,

It thrilled me as I pulled out it’s tongue until near dead,

How did I dream with the bark from hell in rhythmic beat,

To be honest I think, perhaps I hallucinated in my defeat,

I have done so when weak and standing at death’s door,

It comes to a man when his body just can’t take anymore,

I may purchase or borrow a shock collar and stand by,

If Fatty continues to bark after shocking, I may start to cry,

The fat little dog may be blind or just too stupid to know,

I was ignored by Fatty dog as I yelled at it a short while ago,

As sanity departs my mind I have to ask anyone why,

Does a fatty dog eternally bark just to make me cry,

Patti’s desire to be sweet and loving to all is in play,

Because I love her so I’ve taped my mouth for the day,

An insult or two is riding the tip of my tongue today,

Words riding like a surfboard on the tip with lots to say

Ready to burst forth in but a bark of the last bark heard,

I hope dogs understand “bark” as a dog universal word,

If so Fatty dog just close your eyes and let me say,

Bark, bark, and more bark every other second today,

Yep, that’s bark, bark, bark, right back at Fatty, bark you,

Bark, bark, bark, I promise to bark at you, right on bark cue.

The barking end, by barking Pat with bark to all.

King family disclaimer:

(The King family does not condone violence or acts

of cruelty to sweet little animals, we have had Pat

tested for rabies and tranquilized him so he can sleep)

Yellow Joe The Bird

Yellow Joe and the other birds never got along as they should,

He is a little bird that lives to explore trees and houses of wood,

Now you may ask how do I, a human, know about ol’ Yellow Joe,

One thing about ol’ Joe, he is the silliest darn yellow bird I know,

Now Yellow Joe, is not one to be deterred without a doubt,

Found a place about one inch on the opposite side of out,

The place Joe so desired to live within is within my bedroom,

This is a predicament because I wasn’t vacating the room,

To intimidate me, Ol’ Yellow Bird Joe and his middle aged beak,

Would fly from the tree into the window until his beak would leak,

I bet you’re wondering, how does he know Joe’s a middle aged bird,

As crazy as it may sound but it was from a pretty blue bird I heard,

Joe’s plight is worry, worry he won’t marry before he is an old bird,

These little treasured birds of Texas live but six years I have heard,

So now I’ve gone and done it as Joe hates for me to discuss his age,

He is near the middle age of three, middle aged at such a young stage,

To discuss his age brings Yellow Joe’s rage because of a phobia (fear),

Also afraid the pretty little blue feathered bird won’t listen or even hear,

Hearing is recognizing sound but to listen to, is a need to understand,

Understand I beg, at first I guessed as to why Joe took such a stand,

A fat little fluff of mid-life bird slamming his head and beak into glass,

Today poor Yellow Joe has hit glass so hard he has fallen onto grass,

As I watched him slide down my window glass I thought I saw a smile,

How can a bird’s hard beak bend to form a smile I wondered for awhile,

Joe thinks he’s intimidated me I’m sure, that’s what brought Joe’s grin,

When he returns from his slide down the wall the true battle can begin,

Joe being Joe just hated being Yellow Joe because Joe was no coward,

No doubt yellow only pertained to color but this made Joe act awkward,

It was hard to deal with a name that could be his color or action taken,

Perhaps I should say action not taken, for once when Joe was shaken,

So it was then that a little yellow bird got “Yellow” as a handle or tease,

See Joe is friendly, so friendly he could speak to lady birds with ease,

But for one, a pretty little blue bird named Skye, made Yellow Joe weak,

This little Skye blue bird was the prettiest of birds with pretty little beak,

For her Joe would do anything but first to prove he wasn’t yellow, yellow,

Skye bird had said she would never nest with a bird that’s a yellow fellow,

She was referring to a cowardly bird, she didn’t care what was his color,

I’m sure by now you’ve figured out that ol’ Joe wasn’t the smartest feller,

But try he did with all his heart to show to Skye bird he was the right bird,

Then suddenly came the loudest noise, the loudest bird noise I’ve heard,

It wasn’t a thud but more of a bird meets glass with beak plus thunder,

Concerned, I ran around to hear a weak “tweet” that made me wonder,

Was all this worth what poor Ol’ Yellow Joe was putting himself through,

And there sitting, watching, atop a branch was a pretty little bird of blue,

I then understood, I truly did, what poor Yellow Joe’s woes were about,

My brain went wild as I gave it thought, I fell to the ground with a shout,

Little Pretty long feathered Blue Skye bird never saw what I did then,

I placed half awake Joe atop my face, then I saw that bird beak grin,

While laying there my mind was clear and I understood the bird’s word,

He had chosen a Goliath to defeat to remove the yellow from Joe bird,

Not the color of course but the implied coward he had worn all his life,

She finally saw that Joe wasn’t yellow and agreed to be Joe’s bird wife,

Before left he gave me a wink and said watch for little birds of green,

I thought to myself little birds of green is something I haven’t seen,

What made him think and how could he know they would be green,

Yellow Joe had thought it through it seems, his future he’d foreseen,

Yellow and blue does make green so ol’ Yellow Joe could be right,

It’s good to know why that little bird seemed to be picking a fight,

It’s been four months and Joe is back slamming his head into glass,

Maybe it’s the twenty little greens in tow without the little blue lass,

Perhaps haste is not the best when birds pick a mate for remaining life,

As with the human race, time is best taken to avoid a lifetime of strife,

Funny but somehow I hear little greens yelling “do it again daddy please”,

Ol’ Joe had so much practice he now slams his head into glass with ease,

He wasn’t there to fret but bragging of how he’d won over their mother,

In the distance I could see a little blue pretty bird so proud of bird father,

What I thought had been wrong but it does prove what true love can do,

Most anything can be done from love and our heart, it’s like how I love you.

The end, by Pat

My Blood Yet Sleeps

Baby, my darling, my angel of morning light,

It bothers me to ask but I must deal with my plight,

I need my blue hard drive that rests in the chair,

I’d retrieve it myself but I’d have to quickly get there,

I’m afraid I will chill since my old tired blood yet moves

I’m wet you see and too lazy to dry so to you it behooves,

Yes, I’m lazy and trying to say it is your duty please,

If I wasn’t submerged I’d beg on my bended wet knees,

But you couldn’t see that since I’m warm in this hot tub,

You may save me from danger as my toe could stub,

Many dangers and perils exist if I move before fully awake,

I’m so dorky in the morning I couldn’t even feel an earthquake,

Just another reason to love you even more than before,

Keep adding mornings until we hit evermore. I love you.Baby, my darling, my angel of morning light,

It bothers me to ask but I must deal with my plight,

I need my blue hard drive that rests in the chair,

I’d retrieve it myself but I’d have to quickly get there,

I’m afraid I will chill since my old tired blood yet moves

I’m wet you see and too lazy to dry so to you it behooves,

Yes, I’m lazy and trying to say it is your duty please,

If I wasn’t submerged I’d beg on my bended wet knees,

But you couldn’t see that since I’m warm in this hot tub,

You may save me from danger as my toe could stub,

Many dangers and perils exist if I move before fully awake,

I’m so dorky in the morning I couldn’t even feel an earthquake,

Just another reason to love you even more than before,

Keep adding mornings until we hit evermore. I love you.

REALLY ODD

The Whisper

Where I wonder did a whisper begin,

Was it someone didn’t want to hear the end?

Did some person say an obscenity in from of Him?

I think someone thought of something on a whim,

When uncertainty grasps the mind a whisper is heard,

I’ve also heard a whisper when a child is unsure of a word,

Perhaps also when a kid used that four letter word for turd,

It could be also when someone reads this poem to be heard,

More likely it was shame of this rhyme the whisper came,

I know I once whispered when I accepted shame of blame,

I guess a whisper may be appropriate in a lineup name,

I bet the first time VD was given no whisper came.

Tragedy of the Bee

To taste honey is a treat unknown until the nectar hits home,

Oh, the sweet taste of paradise is there no wonder bees roam,

Oh, sweet bee, do the things you do to make more honey for me,

Flap those tiny cellophane wings to prove flight happens if a bee,

I need to know little bee who dresses a bee in those prison stripes,

When I see your outfit I’m not even a bee but I still yell yipes,

Why not wear your stripes in a vertical plane for just a little bit of fun,

Mom and dad bee might confuse you for a mud dauber some,

I just said little bit did you know there is a candy called little bit,

Yes there is, it’s called a little bit of honey, Mr. Bee, and it’s a hit,

You sure look funny with that big belly hanging down as you fly,

And why do you make such a nasty buzz when you go flying by?

Is that where a buzz cut comes from, is it the work of a mad bee,

Hey now, bee, don’t get mad at me, you may sting but I’ll kill thee,

Gang up on me with your killer friends and it’ll be a bunch of bee’s end,

Yes, it may be me but, Mr. Bee, I have seven dollars and 98 to spend,

I have something to cross your eyes or should I say erase your “B?”

Ouch! That hurt what you just did to me, Mr. Bee, what a B tragedy,

Here comes my spray and it’s got B written all over it Mr. Stingerless,

No aim needed cause you’ll buzz through this fog to make you a mess,

When I have this in my hand they call me Eliot B Mess, you know why,

Though you may bite my butt real hard you are now going to die,

I’ll eat your honey, Mr. Bee, but the rest I was trying to be nice to you,

You just taught me, don’t trust a bee unless he is painted sky blue,

The moral of the rhyme or this poem of B that’s not a spelling B,

Is that a bee doesn’t need to spell but it couldn’t hurt if poison could be,

While discussing bee I must ask why is it a spelling B and not an A?

Too much B in this rhyme so I’ll stop till I write of a King starting with K.

The end

In a Teacup Afloat Dream (Clown Afloat)

As I float I sense change is about and wonder where I’m going to,

In a flash I saw where I’ve been as well as anguish I caused you,

Soon I found my footing and stood upright in a beautiful place,

Was this a park with beautiful gardens where birds gave chase,

Perfection is a word seldom used by me in my descriptions of anything,

Perfection is here I must say but one minor flaw I found, just one thing,

Your absence ruined it all when suddenly I found myself in a teacup afloat,

It sounds silly I know yet here I sat in a ceramic cup instead of a real boat,

How can such occur I wondered and then I thought I would think it through,

To thought I would think doesn’t sound right but that’s what I decided to do,

As I sat in thought of thinking I traced my thoughts of how it came to be,

My thoughts were “if this were water and I had a boat but first a big cup of tea”,

I realized this land I’m in must be of thought and if so how did I get here,

Thinking to myself aloud I thought “you clown, now you’ve done it, think clear”

Befuddled and a bit confused I set sail in my cup for tea that was oversized,

Worried about my odd state of “think” it was quite sudden that I realized,

I looked over the side of my cup for tea to find my reflected self on the surface,

That clown staring back at me is no doubt me with clown makeup on my face,

Although I smile it wore a frown to exemplify my state of mind no doubt,

I decided to try not to think but instead to let my subconscious mind out,

Quite suddenly there were things happening everywhere just above the water,

Memories so painful I had hidden away played out such as a wartime slaughter,

I saw men lined up and machine gunned down by a brutal man we took out,

Resisted temptation played out all around as well as law of man I chose to flout,

Orders I had followed and had to do were covered in red as I again saw the scene,

Filthy places I had been so disgusting it’s better to burn than attempt to clean,

Heartache I had buried was there covered in blue within my subconscious mind,

Painful torture, surgery, shock therapy for war memories I didn’t want to find,

Words that broke my heart poured out “No Mail Pat” as mockery not concern,

Little boy, baldie boy, queenie, kill him, traitor, memories I would like to burn,

Sexual things I had thought of once but hid away in hopes I wasn’t that man,

Deciding my subconscious is meant to remain that way as a trash disposal plan,

With as much think as I could muster I thought away the subconscious me,

Remnants dribbled through as it continued showing things I didn’t want to see,

I was slowly gaining control instead of the water being aflame from in my head,

Deep in thought I thought of you as my heart would rather think of you instead,

It seems the subconscious needed to force one more thing for me to see,

I see me laying in feces and urine, beaten so badly I don’t recognize me,

My heart is breaking as the sensation of pain is alive in my conscious mind too,

Praying I will survive and wondering if I do am I still in thoughts and prayers of you,

To know our love is real and true loneliness and separation will test the heart,

For over a year each beat of my heart and every cell carried love of you in part,

O two had to be there too otherwise one hundred percent love of you flowed,

Had I seen you a month before would my state of self worth have showed,

I felt the great anguish, fear I’d never see you again, and such loneliness inside,

No doubt was within my being, I loved you so deeply that inside this cup I cried,

Thoughts of loving you came flooding through and sunshine shown down again,

Rose petals of red were afloat upon the water’s surface as rose scent wafted in,

The ingredients of you I thought, “no doubt are sweet with red n other roses too,”

My mind went deep in thought as I saw angels of beauty and things I love of you,

The little giggle so slight when pleasures just right filled the air slightly with sound,

Butterflies and hummingbirds, an island with kittens, puppies, children all around,

From within deep thought I woke to find all those things around with islands too,

Thinking these things has created so much in this land of think, all but you,

As I tried to relax to continue my journey afloat in my oversized ceramic tea cup,

The creations of think faded away, so if that’s the case, why not all, what’s up?

If this land of thoughts allows my thoughts to be real why can’t I think up you,

As a face painted clown in a cup to say I was perplexed would be so very true,

There must be a way in this land of thought to think my way to you somehow,

Afraid to think a thought of anything or afraid to see animals such as a cow,

As quick as I thought that thought before my eyes swam a cow trying to get in,

What in the world is wrong with me to think of a cow and now she has to swim,

If only this poor cow had a stable to be in she wouldn’t be in such a bad way,

I need to be cautious for now a stable protrudes above the waves, I hate to say,

Thinking clearly I imagined an island with a stable so the poor cow could rest,

Trying to think a linear thought while avoiding other thoughts would be best,

Then suddenly I realized I needed to think away this land of think I thought,

Thinking with all my will and might I thought it away with everything I’ve got,

All this thought left me exhausted, I quietly fell asleep until I finally woke,

As strange as this may sound I woke with my foot on a teacup, it’s no joke,

When I wake I must go to relieve myself so I almost ran to the bathroom,

The mirror showed a man with lipstick appropriate for an idiot in bloom,

Not only were my lips smeared but white shoe polish covered my face,

I’ve always been a talker in sleep but a walker means I must be all over the place,

I love you my darling and I’ll understand the next time you want to time me down,

Being tied did excited me I must confess, I remember now to being your clown,

Please don’t let me get carried away again, I prefer remembering the next day,

If I am taken back a bit when a tea cup is near, know I will likely push it away,

But if you should happen to see me sitting upon a ceramic tea cup so small,

With a shoe polish face, lipstick, and smile, know I’m asleep and don’t let me fall.

The end, by Pat. I love you baby. I had a weird dream.

Naughty Wet Fat Cheetos Eaten with a Fork

I wonder why I wonder how it happens so many times,

Somewhere in your mind you must think, my husband whines,

I plead I do, I really do, I’ll plead if that is what it takes,

If I must crawl I will if that is the difference that makes,

Surely you feel the buzz especially if down low and near where bare,

Near what you say, well place it near the fuzz patch called no hair,

If it gives a thrill when I buzz know I do it with full intent of fun,

If you feel the vibration come it’s so a quick cum can come,

I do these things as a thrill for you motivated by tremendous love,

My love for you is so hot baby to touch my dick you need a glove,

I do things for you because I can’t contain the the things I do,

I hope you realize this only old man (I hope) you know loves you,

Let me ask one little thing of you and I hope you will tell me true,

I like to eat fat fluffy Cheetos with a fork when I write poems for you,

I drink a beer to relax and every time my mind drifts away to you,

With so much love coursing through my veins trying to get through,

It’s hard to contain it all without shouts for all the world to hear,

So baby doll let me ask, why serve wet fat Cheetos with my beer,

Have you heard me gag real loud the way I do when I projectile puke,

Doctors have come from miles around to watch my projectile nuke,

Place a Cheeto that’s water borne onto my reflex of tongue,

I gag I really do, so hard I gag that time reverses until I’m young,

If only we could hold it there but the muscles that I use to projectile,

Must me used in recoil mode or my innards of me will blow for a mile,

Although it’s hard to believe I can puke to other planets too,

It happens so fast when I gag you must watch it all through,

Little green men have appeared or was I lacking enough oh two,

If it’s not true it is to me, I swear I’ve launched rockets in my spew,

But for now if you don’t mind, may I have Cheetos without a soak,

If you feel I’m wrong try a water logged yellow to check your choke,

As insane as it sounds please know my mind is very clear,

I’ve sat here but a minute or two and only drank one beer,

Now I am filled with lust inside, I can feel it in my right big nut,

Add to my display of lust just know I really love your little butt,

Been watching you all day long as you shook it to get my full attention,

If I didn’t say it to you, I saw you swing it hard with full sexual intention,

So baby doll please bring me but one yellow without any soak,

As a bedtime reward I will reveal my fellow from beneath his cloak.

The end, I love you

“My Brain’s Mysterious Word Bend”

Hear me please, anti q’s must be the small missile q’s we fire to fend off que’s,

To me it’s odd that after so many years it doesn’t or has not made the news,

May I ask, what means the word uni “que” does it mean the uniting of the word,

Or is this to describe the famous que’s that must be in reference to the que word,

There are many important things that go unheard of when discoveries are new,

There must be a new discovery for making leafs green, it’s called chlorophy 2,

It’s true as I read of it, it’s chlorophyll’s little brother or is it always two “L”s to end,

My brain works words in mysterious ways that I sometimes call my “word bend”,

Once someone said I live in a state of confusion and I thought that’s not bad,

Fake fusion sounds okay as long as it works much like plastic is not ironclad,

Don’t get him started someone said of me and I wondered why’d he say that,

Someone gave me a little push and I wandered for days wondering where it’s at,

I returned from my wondering while wandering a meandering path of thought,

Was it a path of thought I wandered or was it I thought I wandered or did I not,

Let’s take a different path for now and return to the written word or what is said,

You have no idea what it’s like to have all of this bouncing around in my head,

Who determined and from where that a mouse is a mice when with others,

Let me ask this of you when using letters to from words from other, like mother,

Who determined m is mother, br is brother and if so why not s for sister or sother,

D of course should be daddy or dother, yes I’m aware there is also f or fother,

(For the purpose of rhyme fother is pronounced as f-other)

(In my future the “o” will be pronounced as the “a” in father)

Think of all the things we could do when using a base word such as other,

If we redefine other to mean a sibling that is the other relation to my brother,

Then from other we can use letters to denote how the family member occurs,

No longer would it be necessary to say our kinship in such way that it blurs,

They are all available and haven’t been taken to be used by some non meaning word,

Let’s clean up others lineage to remove common other (like now) uses you’ve heard,

Webster hasn’t laid claim to my new derivatives of “other” as being family lineage base,

Perhaps I’ll start a company to claim words and charge to register its use anyplace,

Please join me in my attempt to get this word used as it was meant long ago,

Dissimilar or ulterior, or “not that one” but we can’t use other as we now know,

No longer will another be used except that aunt is another and uncle is unother,

Thank you for reading my babble and know that untouched will be “grandmother”.

Much to your relief, The end, by Pat

Although most won’t understand this poem and most of my poems are written for Patti,

The love of my life, the angel forever at my side, the most beautiful woman I know.

I hope this made you smile Patti, I love you my beautiful little girl.

My Dog’s Poop or Poo

My dog is a cute dog that now spreads his poop around,

It’s nay special this poop, being sent to the Texas ground,

It falls to our earth with a special odor, it’s aired all around,

Should you follow said essence of pew that’s earth bound,

He’s got a two spot drop to be found with stink not sound,

Unless of course you’re fielding said poo as it falls to ground,

Seasoned collectors of such poo uses knowledge he’s obtained,

Bits and pieces of the learned or stricken such as “it rained”,

Buddy come here, for a friendly conversation with Riley,

He is the collector of your poo and of late he’s not smiley,

It’s the double poo scoop you’ve caused by pooping twice,

Hear Riley speak his say about your twice, not being nice,

We have written a lot of words to document said poo in rhyme,

Said poo is also poop in order to prevent confusion this time,

Please poop only once when pooping your “poop high rise”,

Buddy says “it touches my pooper if not spread beneath His skies,”

It’s a huge pile of poop or even called shit when it touches it,

You don’t stand a chance of a clean butt as dogs don’t wipe shit,

Nothing to hold such wipe as our thumbs are akin to classic paws,

Making a point for sure as Buddy said, “pick it up using your jaws”.

Realizing that what the dog said is for sure and certain true,

With no opposable thumb they are left using jaws to wrap it too,

Perhaps we should rethink our say and simply scoop up debris,

Use it as composted ‘lizer to create green as far as you can see.

A new end. The end

KIDS

Dolphin Fleas “O” (Cheerios Fleas)

I was sitting in my hot tub when a sound was heard,

I thought to myself, “I recognize that little ‘help’ word,”

So I searched all around and what did my eyes see?

I took this picture from afar so you would believe me,

It was a dolphin flea in an “O”, he seemed tired n’ slow,

I studied it hard to detect that little clear dolphin flea,

But kids you’ve seen them so tell adults to believe me,

We call them fleas those little hot tub bubbles full of air,

Watch your tub with bubbles on and they are everywhere,

But when my stomach is hungry it will eat any type of grain,

I ate that “O” so now it can be said, Pa Pa has a tiny flea brain.

The end.

POEM: Moral of the Tale of Dolphin Flea and Cheerio

Dolphin fleas shouldn’t float on Cheerios with a hungry man around,

Because that Dolphin flea may be swallowed to become ???? bound.

Men can’t fight “Cheerio urge” if he hears the word or crunchy sound,

“Cheerio” he will say, meaning see you later, I am breakfast bound,

My grandkids have said “Cheerios can be used for many things,”

First on my little geniuses mind is that they make very good rings,

No doubt that’s true because most circles do form into a ring,

I sit and I wonder to myself, ‘if brought to church do Cheerios sing’,

We must agree the oat filled goodness of Cheerios is a great snack,

When I was a kid I crunched on them from my tree-house shack,

It’s easy to see what a Cheerio can do as it has me way off my road,

I have no doubt you thought track was next but I wrote this as I rowed,

I get Cheerio strength to row my boat as I search to see a dolphin flea,

Moral of this story of Dolphin flea, “if on a Cheerio you’ll be inside of me.”

The end,

I love my grandkids I do, I speak in rhyme in all I do,

To keep from hurting any feelings, I love Patti too,

For without you, those little rascals wouldn’t be

Nor would this crazy little rhyme of “O”and no flea.

Photographic evidence of dolphin flea on Cheerio life ring.

Does a Witch’s Nose Grow?

Does a witch’s nose grow and would you know,

Does a wart belong there and should it show,

Put upon her face that special place a nose would go,

I knew you knew you are very smart, you know,

A witch’s broom is known to fly up high in the sky,

I wonder can a witch really ride a broom and fly,

When you use a broom do you fly or clean the floor?

Do you sweep dirt into a dust pan or out the door?

Some witches wear a dress that’s so long and black,

Do they have pockets or wear a backpack,

I bet they have trousers with pockets and they are deep,

Thus they have a place for their valuables to keep,

Can you say valuable correct for me to hear?

Do you know it means things that to you are dear?

A new word in a poem each day will help you read,

And it will teach you words you will someday need.

You did very well today, did you know?

And it’s okay if you go fast or go slow,

I’ll write more verse and words for you,

Each day we will read together just us two.

The Tale of the Black Buzzard Tex and Black Blob

I was watching the buzzards out back circling. I wondered what they were waiting on to die when I suddenly realized maybe me. To my great relief I saw one dive, then all of rest dive at once. The first to dive was big and ugly. Big ugly landed upon a black, a black is all I can say cause that’s all I could see. This big, baddest black buzzard I’ve ever seen lifted off with all abandon dangling huge black beneath. I guess we could write a rhyme about this vulture venture.

Above me I watched buzzards circle in awe,

Then a sudden thought that brought a dropped jaw,

Perhaps it is I these buzzards seek to feast upon,

I could just see them pick my bones until I’m gone,

Would I be zesty or tough as nails in buzzard meal speak,

Thinking of buzzard meat as a guest is not for the meek,

To be the guest of honor may or may not be okay,

If it is I they feast upon, I will pass on that scary day,

A thought of sickness crept through my brain till dead,

Would I attend if they were serving me steak instead,

Now to serve me could mean more than one thing in rhyme,

If I was served on a silver platter as a main dish of flesh of mine,

That is number one with the other to mean I was served food,

This has to be the weirdest poem you have ever withstood,

Perhaps I’ve spent too much time on being buzzard served,

To be honest those big birds have left me unnerved,

As I stared in wonder I myself began thoughts of wonder,

What is it these big birds have in mind that’s down under,

When at last I saw what can only be described as black,

A blob of black lies in the grass trying to get its legs back,

Legs? Now how could I possibly know how black gets about,

If not for these protective windows I’d render aid with a shout,

I noticed the circle seemed more festive or perhaps intense,

With big black buzzard abandon it might make more sense,

Try as I may to enter the buzzards mind of eat black blob need,

I realized it’s impossible when I felt a sudden need for speed,

This speed brought cause of concern, was I inside,

If inside the mind of a buzzard I’ll take it for a ride,

Too glide freely through the air on wings would be supreme,

But to do so while driving a buzzard’s mind is a bit extreme,

I never made it inside the mind of Black Buzzard Tex,

That’s what I named him so there’s no need to perplex,

On with my tell all tale of Black Buzzard Tex and his tail,

I included his tail so all spellings of tell would be in this tale,

Suddenly with no reason or rhyme this meanest of buzzards dove,

Shot off like a bullet I should say, or as if a jet airplane it drove,

The blob of black had no chance I thought as Buzzard Tex struck,

I must say as black blobs go this black blob had very bad luck,

So many buzzards above and black blob the one they sought,

All the buzzards followed Black Buzzard Tex and what he got,

Black blob was hung in Tex’s toes or to be correct, perfect claws,

As buzzards pee on their feet we know Black Buzzard Tex had flaws,

To catch a black blob while diving so fast they must be good feet,

To catch a black blob while diving so fast it must be a good feat,

Into oblivion and who knows where black blob and Tex buzzard went,

When you see a big black ugly buzzard poop it might be a hint,

Once that poop was more black blob than poop take time to consider,

And when Tex buzzard pees on his feet for cooling it may be to rid her,

Perhaps I’ve been wrong all along and Tex was a buzzard female,

To rid herself of all the male buzzards in tow, she made herself smell.