Crisis.
Crisis.
Really huge crisis.
Human interest.. until someone gets hurt.
Crisis.
I don’t really care.
Most of it doesn’t affect me.
Most of it will be gone tomorrow.
It’s just exhausting.
Can we have some good news?
Can we have some different news?
Actually, can we have some Rocky & Bullwinkle?
Hold the fort!
This piece is short.
Take me to court.
I’ll just snort.
Amen.
We should be on a ship,
Sailing across the sea.
Yet, we’re stuck at home,
Bored as we can be.
The living room’s our Lido Deck,
But there isn’t much to do.
We don’t have any contests,
There isn’t any pool.
Our buffet is open all day long,
It’s called the kitchen here.
There’s not a wide selection,
And bars don’t have any beer.
We can go out on excursions,
Just like on any cruise.
It’s now a bit like gambling,
With just your life to lose.
The back porch is our balcony,
The back yard’s our open sea,
The view just never changes,
We’re docked at Homestead Quay.
Last year, I hoped one of my poems would go viral.
Going viral used to be fun, not a prognosis.
I really can’t use that word any longer.
Now, it means what it was supposed to mean.
Sucks.
Stay home.
Daddy said, “It’s time to fly!”
I did not know it’s do or die.
I heard the coffee start to perk,
Then he and Mom went off to work.
Today, I left my little bed.
I fell and cracked my little head.
As I tried to clear my brain,
Help appeared to stop my pain.
A Chihuahua stopped to render aid.
He picked me up from where I laid.
I heard his Dad yell, “Rocky, NO!”
Why won’t he let him help me so?
Ouch. I feel teeth upon my back.
I think I may become a snack.
Wait. He dropped me on the grass.
His Dad just saved my feathered ass.
Some lady put me in a box.
She took me quickly, like a fox.
Wait. Fox is not the best example.
Foxes also like a bird to sample.
The lady put me outside the fence.
I’m starting to regain my sense.
I wonder how I get back home.
I should fly and not just roam.
I don’t know where I go from here.
At least there is no dog to fear.
I have a pain all through my head.
The lesson? Don’t get out of bed.
Editor’s Note: And so another edition of NaPoWriMo comes to a close. Thirty days, thirty poems. No guarantees on quality. If my wife likes three of them, it’s a good year – which is why so many were about our Chihuahua.
Another year is closing down,
I think I may head out of town.
Thirty days of writing poems.
I hope they all will find good homes.
Some I thought were pretty good.
Some (like this) are just dead wood.
I hope to see you all next year.
If you miss me, shed a tear.
Turkey!
Ham!
Mayo!
Pickles!
Onions!
Pita!
That’s a wrap!
Editor’s Note: Blind John Ellsworth is dedicated to animal welfare, and wants all pets to be safe. So, it pains him to see reports of neighbors “losing” pets because they are left outside unattended — or worse, are “outside” pets. So, here’s a reminder.
There is a majestic old owl.
He patrols when the skies are black.
I thought he was looking for Tootsie-Pops,
But I think he’s looking for a snack.
When the wind is low,
Behind my bungalow.
I can hear the owl’s song.
If you know it, sing along.
Who let the dogs out?
Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!
Burp.
Are we there yet?
I just so love being in the car.
Houston now seems very far.
We’ve been there other times before.
Each time it’s south-er even more.
I really wish you’d let me drive.
I can’t deal with all this right-lane jive.
My eyelids are about to drop.
I think I need a Buc-ee’s stop.
The GPS says two hours to go.
That I didn’t need to know.
Are we there yet?
I almost missed today.
I have no time to play.
Work led me astray.
My hair is turning grey.
Perhaps another day.
I am at an age where
I notice certain things.
I am at an age where
I notice annoying things.
Literally.
One of those this things
Infected a YouTube video
That my wife was watching.
I could literally hear the audio
Even though she was across the room.
Literally.
A lot of people have verbal tics.
They will literally say them
All the time.
It’s cringe-inducing.
Literally.
My tic is that I say “Um”.
I literally say “Um”
All the time.
I might even be saying “Um”
While I’m trying to write this,
But I promise I will edit them out.
Actually, I don’t type them,
I just hear them in my head.
Literally.
So, if I say “Um” to you,
It means my brain is working.
Perhaps.
People should just have a LED
On their forehead that says,
“Working.”
Literally.