Waffling

This morning, I could not decide

Between French toast or pancakes

For breakfast.

Living on the Edge

My house seems to make people quite ill at ease,

Visitors, I'll admit, I have few.

It has a tenuous grip on the edge of a cliff,

But it has a fantastic view.

Absolute Nonsense

Squeegee

Gee whiz

Whiz bang

Pow,

Wow-wee

Zowie

Faster now...

Flim flam

Flambée

Bay Bridge

Okay

Amos

Seamus

Take a bow.

Canned ham

Hamburg

Big Bird

Black bird

Black dirt

Dirt poor

Poor Sam Mudd.

Mud flap

Flap jack

Jack Sprat

Pratfall

Fall guy

Stop quick

With a thud.

Unknown Beauty

She was filled to the tip top
With delicate things,
Like dandelion blossoms
And butterfly wings.
But she never knew love,
Just the withering sting
Of rejection...

Her beauty not easily seen.

A Random Little Thought About an Idle Brain

She kept her brain inside a jar
Tucked safely away on a high shelf
In the study, to be used only when needed.
Which, for her, was not often.
And so there it sat, just gathering dust,
Not thinking about anything at all.

My Thursday

I was deep inside a Thursday
When I heard the color blue
It filled my eyes with deafening whispers
Of a lonely, mournful hue

I don't know when or where it came from
Don't know how it came to be
Before I knew just what was going on
The waves washed over me

And I was swimming in a chorus
Of a thousand fallen tears
I caught the scent of baleful drumming
Winding rhythm through my ears

It was a symphony of sadness
Suffocating was the song
A taste of melancholy madness
And in a moment it was gone

Staring at the Sun

They sat on the grass, all bald heads and bare feet
And flowing white robes, as others poked fun.
They turned their eyes skyward in practiced performance,
They turned their eyes skyward and stared at the sun.
No one knows why they did it, they sat there in silence,
Unsettling scene in a picturesque park.
Tears flowed down their cheeks as they stared at the fire,
Unblinking until they saw nothing but dark.

The Last Man in the World

He walks through a desolate wasteland alone,
A fistful of daisies in hand.
He's not sure where he's going, forgot where he's been
He just aimlessly wanders the sand.
He belongs to no country, religion or creed
Adrift, the last man in the world.
And although it seems crazy, he clutches those daisies,
Just hoping to find the last girl.