NaPoWriMo

National Poetry Writing Month (April)

Oncor Haikus

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

Notes from the author: Woke up this morning, having trouble breathing. Looked up to check the time, and my projection clock was out. That’s when I realized my breathing issues were because my CPAP was not running. Took off my mask, and watched as the ceiling fan spun slowly to a stop. The power is out again.

Warmness engulfs me.
Ceiling fans no longer run.
Power out again.

Bleeding quietly.
I was shaving in the dark.
Blades of danger.

Messages flowing.
Oncor status emails sent.
Email needs Internet.

Living in darkness.
My world is in the shadows.
I am powerless.

Sailing

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

I want to sail the ocean blue.
The open waves that we once knew.
Alone at last and feeling free.
I can’t, because the CDC.

Wuhan has some poison labs.
WHO first blamed the bat kebabs.
But the CDC has some key tips.
Disease is caused by cruising ships.

Writer’s Block

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

I had a great idea.
I even had a rhyme.
This was a brilliant poem.
It ran in 4/4 time.

I was in the midst of writing.
I had it all, no doubt.
I started on the third stanza.
And the Internet went out.

No worries.
I have it in my head.
I can wait until it’s back.
But my Internet is dead.

I’m off to find a notebook,
And a pencil or a pen.
I don’t want to lose this moment,
And AT&T is down. Again.

Bug Killer

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

This is not a poem as much as self-therapy, from watching the great white hunter track down and kill a poor, defenseless housefly.

My wife saw a fly in the house.
She knocked his wings off.
Now, he is a walk.

(I love that joke!)

It was time to relax a bit.
I was lying in my bed one night,
I was trying to go to sleep.
A buzzing gave me quite a fright.

I looked up at the ceiling.
A fly circled around my head.
I really don’t like flies.
But my wife wants him dead.

I try to say “Live and let live.”
My wife says “Live and let die.”
She has her trusty swatter.
My wife will kill this little fly.

She started swinging wildly.
The dog dove under the bed.
They don’t like her swatter.
I pulled the covers over my head.

Next stanza is in Phil Rizzuto’s voice.
Swing! .. and a miss!
Swing! .. and a miss!
Wow! That one’s outta here!

A fly never flies in a straight line.
Unless, propelled by swatter.
In that case, it’s a fast, straight line.
Leading it to the slaughter.

My wife killed a little fly.
I wish that it would fall.
If it hangs on until morning,
I will scrape it off the wall.

NaPoWriMo 2020

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

A month of poems has gone away.
I think I only missed one day.
I never wrote about my spouse.
Hell, I barely ever left my house.

Please don’t shed another tear.
I’ll be back again next year.
Deadlines make me write each day.
Even when quality goes astray.

Stay six feet apart,
Keep your hands clean.
I want to do this again,
While not in quarantine.

Rocky’s Anniversary

~ John Ellsworth ~ Leave a comment

Rocky arrived here
Eight years ago today.
He was limping pretty badly,
But still wanted to play.

He was hit by a car.
His back legs were broken apart.
A lady dumped him at our vet.
It was a rocky start.

(He’s actually named Rocky,
Because he was a Chihuahua
That took on a Cadillac.
Adriaaaaan!)

We were going to foster him,
Until he found his perfect home.
He never made it off the couch,
He wouldn’t leave us alone.

He’s been with us eight long years,
He thinks he runs the house.
He’s killed a couple of snakes so far,
And one quite bloody mouse.

So, here’s to Rocky FosterPup.
He’s our favorite little shrimp.
He’s running all around the yard
Because he never learned to limp.