Tag Archive: fun


Weddings*

She danced

Holding her dress

đź’“

He danced

Holding her heart

đź’“

Weddings

A moment

A celebration

A birth

A birth of joy

đź’“

The young

Alcohol excited their exuberance

đź’“

The old

Alcohol excites their memories

đź’“

The band plays on

Playing songs that vibrate a chord

A chord in us all

The chord that all is precious

Laughter and tears

Are heard between sets

đź’“

Weddings are a precious gift

Between life’s sets

đź’“

*Dedicated to Mandy and Brian

A Wine Affair

A Wine Affair.

You get out of bed hanging on to things.

You go to bed hanging on to things.

I am a suitor to wine, she has become my life vine.

A sleeping pill – not quite.

A crutch – not quite.

She is a smooth sultry succulent sensation.

We have a hankering to hold hands.

At times I question her motives,

she answers with sweet drops of love on my lips.

She tongues me.

Her body is an appreciation of allurement.

Cultivating curves so cool to caress.

My finger always discovers the dimple in her bottom.

Most are blonds – I always hold them gently.

It’s like foreplay – screw the top and relish in the rest.

Some guys put notches in their bed frame,

I place trophies in the recycling bin.

Sometimes I’m detected,

Bill Clinton and I can commensurate,

stains spill the story.

Nevertheless we retain our relationship.

With her, the stem of my glass is always firm.

Yes, she is pleased as I spin her skirt in my glass.

I see her around town, we glance, she states her price.

I pay for this pleasure and take her home disguised, hidden in a bag.

At times, in restaurants, her emergence embarrasses me.

You know, love is like that, especially with passionate relationships.

I do love her.

And when that bottle of Sauvignon Blanc sits in a in a cool sweat.

I know we are both ready for a delightful evening.

Jazz

Hear that rhythm

Jazz

I want to hear that rhythm.

I want to soak up jazz,

that, boom, boom, beat.

Licks fade but never sleep.

 

The language of jazz

is willing within.

Can’t be translated,

such a sensational sin.

You taste the feel.

You tap your glass.

You say “oh yeah”.

Hit the rim of your hat,

when they swing B flat.

 

Coffee compliments the feel.

Bourbon aids to heighten your zeal.

Love spins your head to the grooves

A perfect partner for your blues.

 

Live jazz is where it’s at,

discover your joint and call it a wrap.

That place is an intellectual key.

Your rhythmic finish is a footnote in G.

 

Find a stick and start the beat.

Read a poem to create some heat.

Snap your fingers for the fusion.

Life at its finest a musical illusion .

 

Starbucks and Me

Starbucks and Me.

 

I fancy Starbucks.

Such an enchanted place,

full of civil people.

Cooperative staff act as butlers.

A grande skinny cappuccino with 1/2 pack of raw sugar and a light sprinkle of chocolate powder doesn’t raise an eye brow.

 

The coffee is good.

Not great – but good.

 

Starbucks informs me of hunger in Africa

I like to buy coffee there because it’s helps those people.

Starbucks is green.

Every cup is made from some thing recycled.

Every cup asks me to recycle.

 

Clientele cradle their cups while debating in delicate dialog.

Laptops glow with enlightenment to the wi fi set.

Yes, I order my brew while mingling with intellectuals.

 

You walk away feeling honorable.

A good potion,

guiltless deeds

and all the while sustaining the earth.

I do derive pleasure from Starbucks.

 

And then,

then I go on with life,

gratified I saved the earth.

Gratified I helped the hungry.

Yet, no one notices

the beggar at the curb.

Why not recycle his life with gentle words and deeds?

Yes, Starbucks is an honorable experience,

but the beggar begs to differ.

 

Don’t be fooled.

Starbucks caters to the ME in us, not the WE in us.

 

Thoughts

Thoughts.

They say men think about sex 3 or 4 times an hour.

So when I’m at the bar with three friends.

We each have a few beers in 3 hours.

That means together we had 48 sexual thoughts.

But sex only came up in conversation 21 times.

What a waste of thought.

Cheese Please.

Farmers market was on the agenda.

Fish

………………….and fruit

and bread

……………………………..and cheese.

…………………………………….What a fool I was,

not to notice.

……………………It was I,

she wanted to please..