I think this would be great for a divorce or a breakup greeting card:
We had some fun times while we were together
And many of those moments I’ll always treasure.
But I have to let you know just how I feel,
My muse has been crushed under your unappreciative heel.
So I’m freeing myself from your oppressive ways;
I hope to never see you for the rest of my days.
I’m sure losing you will improve my luck,
And from this day forward may your entire life suck.
Goodbye!
A question from a coworker:
How come you have to be a SMART ASS About EVERYTHING?
My response, in verse:
I am pollen to the allergic,
A bit of sand to an oyster,
A lit fuse to fireworks,
And a pick to a guitar string.
By my small irritation,
Beauty is manifested,
Reactions are intensified,
Life is lived.
If I failed this role
Think how boring work would be.
Embrace your reactions
There’s no need to thank me.
(Based on a dream)
She sets out for a ride,
Hoping to clear her head,
Mindlessly pedaling down the wooded trail
The woods strangely silent
Seemingly full of dread
An omen of what’s to come when she is frail
Birds fail to sing their song
Squirrels don’t scamper by
But her mind can’t stop, trapped by her discontent
She pedals on, not concerned for time,
Yet worried about the things to come,
Regretting what has already passed.
The soulless oaks have nothing to say
The leaves fail to speak, the wind is still
The sun marches cruelly
To its daily slumber
Changing from yellow to orange, then to rust
She sees the nearing night
The stillness amplifies
Looking for her sense of place, she knows she’s lost
Unable to help herself, she calls
He answers and asks, “Where are you now?”
“I don’t know, a path less well kept,” she cedes.
“The trees were so strong and majestic.
Please come find me, only you can help.”
“I cannot follow you
I can wait for your return,”
He replied with a shudder that she could hear
“I’m scared and I’m lost.
I can’t turn back now”
She cried with anguish and whimpered, “I’m sorry.”
I am always here
I won’t leave this spot.
Just turn around now, trust my voice, don’t fear.
Twilight slipped to night as she turned.
I hear whispering.
Ideas filling my head,
Voices dominating my thoughts.
It never stops.
I want them dead.
It is no wonder
My life is disorganized.
With dozens of governors ruling my day
And haunting my nights.
I’ll reason with them, I’ll get wise.
The voices are ringing
A never-ending word string
They are always wrestling
For the ear of the god king
I try to silence them
But the voices get louder
Give them what they want
Maybe I’ll pacify them
But they get prouder
What if I give up?
Would they die if no one listened?
I’ll stop feeding them
Ignore the noise
Over and over again.
In a scaffolding
Overlooking a field
In the heart of winter
Everything is asleep
The field is dead and brown
The trees are skeletons
Standing against the grey skies and exposed
The plants and trees are asleep
Cars and trucks rush by
Filled with anticipation
Of reaching their destination
But they are all asleep
The sentry looks around
And asks, “Who, who will listen?”
Who will listen to the wind,
Who will hear the creek’s story?
Not one stops, no one hears
They rush by on their way
Where are they going?
There is no threat here, yet I fear
They don’t understand
They don’t listen
They don’t love
They’re all dead.
