Poetry | Posted by Jannie on 6 September 2011 @ 1:50 PM
They say Bob sported only
a limestone ascot that night.
Delilah was nude too, save for
her boa of lit birthday candles
and boots of Spanish leather.
— nice boots, with Samson’s
biceps tooled onto the thighs
and scrapbooks of his broken
ukulele and his grandmother’s
strudel carved into the soles.
Anyway…
As Bob and Delilah, holding hands,
plunged into a vat of stray cats,
they cringed at the landing sure
to hurt more than a guided tour
of the Early Dentistry Museum.
Yes, a place with photos like this…
But lo and William be Holden,
their fall was broken by a magic
carpet ride of lumberjack poems
whisking them safely to Danny’s
for a nightcap of caramel stew.
Danny’s, with patrons pretty-much
naked too except for fluffy crowns
of Russian flash-dancing squirrels
and socks knit from curtains of sky,
Bob and Delilah felt right at home.
Meanwhile Samson, chain-smoking
American Spirits back on the roof,
broke into the most heartbreaking
version of “Why, why, why, Delilah?”
since Tom Jones lassoed the moon.
~~~ end of poem.
(Sorry this poem is so nuts. Can you ever forgive me?) 🙂
Got poetry? Love poetry? dVerse is Da Poetry Bomb!
Open Link Tuesday goes live weekly at 3:00 EST, whoooohoooo.
Flashdancing squirrels from Rose Is Rose
No stray cats were hurt in the making of this or any other of my poems. 🙂
Flash Fiction 55 | Posted by Jannie on 1 September 2011 @ 6:49 PM
You wait and you wait for
the rumbling roar of the
yellow Space Shuttle
to reenter the hood.
And thar she blows.
Parachutes flaming, she slows.
PootCHAW! go the airbrakes. PootCHAW!
You wait and you wait for
your favorite astronaut to appear.
Ahhh, Moon Girl emerges.
Houston… Poinsettia Passion lunar landing complete.
Roger that!
Got 55 words of fiction? Go tell it on G-Man’s mountain, and happy little kittens will dance.
Poetry | Posted by Jannie on 30 August 2011 @ 1:50 PM
Welcome, dear blog traveler!
Come in from the blizzard of potholes
that have probably been spanking your eyes
and your mis-matched luggage for years.
Here, let me shake the time zones and the
tangle of dishwasher salesmen out of your hat.
Fling your shoes and worries wherever you wish.
You look thirsty. How ’bout a nice tall glass of
waterfall I’ve been stirring meadows of lemon into
since the evening you published your first post?
You look hungry. Here, help yourself to my famous
sand castle soup, followed by motherboard a la mode.
(All seasoned with hints of violin string, of course.)
Are you tired? There’s a beach on the sofa.
Are you cold? There’s a fireside chat in my heart.
Are you lonely? There are friends waiting
always
for YOU
in my lobby
and over at dVerse Poetry.
You need only knock on their door.
Talkin’ about dVerse’s Tuesday Open Link night. LOVE it! Week 7 already.
Tremont House in Galveston, TX. Book rooms for 50% off via Priceline.com.
Please note, no salesmen were harmed in the production of this, or any other of my poems. 🙂
Edit… please stay as long as you wish!!
Poetry | Posted by Jannie on 23 August 2011 @ 1:57 PM
If love has a library of every book you’ll ever read
starting with great-uncle Cromagnon Mike’s hunting
yarns passed down to cousins Billy Bob and Billie Sue
in caves where bear flesh sustained the future you,
through the years when printing presses clacked
where you apprenticed in growing up and growing
towards museums about men walking on the moon
and men stirring glowing cauldrons of binary code,
all the way to the final pages your eyes will read
in print so enormous you think of it as Jupiter now,
consider my name swirled into each chapter’s art
and my heart the light that’s shining on each word.
This is my post for Open Link Night, Week 6 over at the dVerse Poetry blog.
Got poems?? Check dVerse Out!
Photos from our recent day at NASA in Houston.
THANKS for commenting I’ll be over soon to read your poem, whooohooo.
xxoxoxoo
when poems vacation in Hawaii
they check into the best hotels
of course, and order up bottled
fresh air to pour into the sea.
When the margaritas begin to
flow right after breakfast, the
vacationing poems are usually
found swinging from the earrings
of ladies surfing in the ocean and
ladies surfing blogs on laptops
while lounging beneath palms.
That was 55 words for our favorite fictional flasher — G-Man.
Hula day photo from Kelly’s preschool when she was 4.
Poolside photo I took in Galveston last week.
I’ve never been to Hawaii. Have you?
Cloudia lives there. I love her beautiful blog!
And in parting, a Kauai Beach Hilton photo off Google. Meet me there some day?!
Toodle-oodle-oodle-ooo.
Kootchie-kootchie-kootchie-koo.
xooxoxoxox
