Internal Monologue ~ The Hellspawn Neighbor

Interior Monologue ~ The Hellspawn Neighbor

I curse the day my old neighbor sold his house

and let a drugstore farmer infest the block.

His waist-high grass harbors tick and flea and mouse,

a few copperheads for that cardiac paddle shock.

He came out to chew the fat and shake my hand

about the time he stopped cleaning out his swimming pool:

"We're holistically subsistence farming the land."

(must eat weeds and empty mulch bags, the damn fool.)

"I'm sorry those starving guinea hens got free--

and tore up all your flower beds like that.

Have I mentioned that I have an advanced degree?"

(was that in Freakazoid, or just Asshat?)

"..and something seems to kill off all my bees

in that hive I stuck in triple digit sun…"

(that you ignored, under dropping-limbed dead trees,

and all summer never watered even once?)

Now he's decided to mow just the front yard (half)

piles sour clippings high in giant piles.

Mosquitoes breed in his pool tarp's sagging raft

Is it wrong to hope it's him who gets West Nile?

~September 2012

Dead Hive~Note the Never-Filled Water Bottle.

Posted for   real toads

Kerry's Wednesday Challenge: The Internal Monologue

Kerry asks us to carry on an interior monologue which illuminates our feelings towards a human irritant with which we must deal. For me, that would be Idiotman next door.

VERY Optional Musical Accompaniment,

 cuz, Ten Minutes--still, a great song.

Photos © joyannjones

 

Bonsai and Pantoum

Two poems tonight; please only read as much as you are comfortable with. The second is a pantoum, for Sam's prompt last Thursday.

Bonsai

         At evernoon 
the garden burns again

scorched by a sun no less denying

          than the coquette rain.

Only  fools

 grow roses in a desert.

Pressed and cut,
transplanted too much

in  seedling stage

nothing takes root;

                               matured, only a dwarf of

what was meant                         
                                                             twisted in miniature,
stunted to be

a curiosity.

Those with a taste

                                                 for the odd, the extreme,

occasionally collect it

but soon pass it on

                       as too difficult

to maintain.

~August 2012

Photo credits: header Bonsai importado, by Kenneth F Andrade

footer: Bonsai,M J Ambriola, both on flick'r both shared under a

Creative Commons license

Posted for   OpenLinkNight   at dVerse Poets Pub

 ~*~

For those who participated in last Thursday's FormforAll, Samuel Peralta hosted a pantoum session at dVerse. It took me awhile, but here's what eventually bubbled up, with a few liberties taken. As always, late to the party.

Three Egg Omelet

(A Pantoum)

Three blue eggs nestle

no one can see

deep within the thistle,

down among the rosemary.

No one can see

three words miscarry.

Down among the rosemary,

two lives we bury.

Three words miscarried,

the moment passed beyond recall.

Two lies were buried;

sun sets, moon rises, stars fall.

The moment passed beyond recall;

planes crash, trains wreck every day.

Sunsets blind highrises, curtains fall;

hearts bend, love ends, songs replay.

Suns crash, stars wreck every day

and fall into the thistle.

Hearts bend, lies end, songs replay,

three blue eggs nestle.

~August 2012

If you'd like to hear the poem read by the author, please click below:
three egg omelet by Hedgewitch O'theWilds

Header image:Blue, by Jon Eriksen, on flick'r
Footer image: Robin's nest in trumpet vine, by b4b2, on flick'r
Shared under a Creative Commons License

Musical Interlude ~Who Will The Next Fool Be?~ Various Artists

This is an old Charlie Rich song I have a particular fondness for, having lived it several times. I'm including the original version, by Charlie Rich himself, and an unusual take by Mark Knopfler and zucherro. Last, there's my personal favorite, one by the best band that never made it, the Amazing Rhythm Aces.

So take your pick, kick back with your beverage of choice, and enjoy.