Famous Fictional Couples-Where Are They Now?

Jack Sprat would eat no fat
His wife would eat no lean
‘Til Mrs. Sprat got really sick
Of being size sixteen
She traded all that fatty food
For a much lighter fare
And much to Mr Sprat’s chagrin
She ate his cupboard bare
But not for aggravation would
He soon decide to dump her
Oh what to do with a size two?
He liked his women plumper.

 

*************************************

Danny and Sandy were to marry
Things were hot and flirty
Their mamas said “Dears college first
You both are pushing thirty”
And so they went to different states
Dan said “I won’t forget ya”
Came day or two twas “Sandy who?”
Cause Alice hand jived better
Then came the sixties and free love
The years of ‘feed your head’
As Sandy gobbled mushrooms and
Toured with the Grateful Dead
So question love’s claim to success
Attested in a song
That credits couple’s chemistry
To ‘Ramma lam ding dong’.

 

These were written in response to a prompt I found on the  Once Upon Your Prime blog. The original prompt can be found here. You’ll see it’s for a writing contest and they are offering an honest to god cash prize. Unfortunately, on closer inspection, I found that it’s past the deadline…and they don’t accept poetry. Oh well, still a great prompt! And here is Stephanie’s entry: Could Captain Von Trapp & Maria Be Headed for Divorce?

When Millenials Rule the World

Somewhere in Iraq, March 28, 2035 9:56 AM PST

The head of ISIL is discovered
On the button his hand hovers
Advisors ask him “Are you sure?”
As sweat comes out of every pore
He says “The weak make second guesses”
And so fateful, down he presses
With nothing left he must await
Reaction from United States

Washington D.C., March 28, 2035 10:04 AM PST

We find our leader in good health he
Photoshops his morning selfie
Erases wrinkles in his neck
When suddenly he gets a text

He can’t believe what he is seeing
And so he calls for a staff meeting
And so his people come abounding
For the news he is announcing

ISIL sent the atom bomb
In form of an emoticon
No one really had a clue
As to the next thing they should do

Till one suggested that perchance
They ask the President of France
So logical it seemed that next
That they should send to him a text

And so they sent it right away
And waited on what he would say
And by the phone they sat absorbed
Till they got back “That’s totes adorbs!”

They texted back “About the bomb”
Got “Sorry, was meant for my mom!
But don’t worry I got your text
And think I know what to do next

As serious as this all looks
You should unfriend him on Facebook
Or maybe it’s got to the stage
To troll him on his Youtube page

Or maybe something like this calls
For a mean game of volleyball
‘Cept this time there’s a winning team
And only they will get ice cream”

“France I like how your mind works
But the truth is I’m really hurt”
“Well U.S. if that’s the deal
Then call and tell him how you feel”

“Forgive me while I am digesting
What you seem to be suggesting
Me the leader of the nation
Having a phone conversation?

Does anyone still do that now
Don’t think I can remember how
Plus he won’t pick up at all
You know he prob’ly screens his calls”

“You’re right, forgive my impudence
It’s utterly ridiculous
The only thing that can be done
Is if you bring out the big guns”

“Oh no surely you can’t mean…”
“Oh yes, go to your iPhone screen!”
And so with a mind for revenge
The leader types in and hits send

And so he is up to the challenge
America’s fate in the balance
So eagerly he does await
The answer to his frowny face

A poem inspired by a blog by Phil Taylor Hey Millenials! WTF Are You Gonna Do?

Getting It Honest

Well it says the wheels will spin
It sings and plays the violin
And then it does a big old flip and splits in two
Well you might want to say a prayer
Or throw some salt into the air
But best to be prepared with duct tape and some glue

So you find a doll that’s nice
And so conveniently priced
She cries out mama as she blinks a thick eyelash
But do consider if you please
The added cost of batteries
When they run out you’ll probably throw her in the trash

I don’t know what they think they’re doin’
It’s another birthday ruined
And quite frankly it’s all getting kind of old
They’re so excited to be getting
But if Betsy isn’t wetting
Might as well just throw her in the toilet bowl

Now it’s completely up to you
But I say time to get a clue
To purchase faulty toys as seems to be our wont
But it’s hard to teach a lesson
Battling 6 year old’s obsessions
Yet the more they say they do they probably don’t

And though they may be sad and blue
Tell them that mommy needs new shoes
The strappy kind with those high heels that kind of hurt
But I guess they got it honest
The shoes just sittin’ in a closet
Right by that walkie talkie set that never worked

Resurrection Misperception

Every year they wait for me
And my divine perfection
They speak of the spring day when I
Will have my resurrection

But they don’t realize that they need
Not to wait anymore
For here I am this year just like
The many years before

I guess my form is disguised so
They barely do detect
Since I don’t really look like what
They have come to expect

One year I was granola formed
In a yogurt parfait
The girl just said “That looks like Christ”
And ate me anyway

Another time I came back as
A big filthy cockroach
Another as burnt offerings
On someone’s well done toast

A homeless man with shopping cart
And cardboard sign and cup
I tried to speak the scripture and
They tried to lock me up

Once as a punk with combat boots
Hair spiked every which way
The psalms did not fit to the tune of
‘Anarchy in the U.K.’

A street hustler out making deals
On cheap Armani suits
A worm, a rat, a sunflower and
Transvestite prostitute

And so each year I cringe to think
Of my wordly reunion
‘Is that the same mouth that you use
When you’re taking communion?’

But maybe this year will surpass
How other years have been
Perhaps this year I will come back
As a Kardashian

No goofy comment about coming back to life as a house cat!

Grim Reality

The next 2 year old pop star who
Can also sing and dance
People who look like their pets
Will try and find romance

A competition made to see
Who cleans the cleanest dishes
And nude celebs square off to see
Who’ll catch the biggest fishes

Or find a washed up band who’s members
Each in turn abhor
And see what happens when they’re sent
Out to do a world tour

Or witches vie to see who’s evil
Holds the strongest curse
Or lock two jerks up in a room
And see who kills who first

Or maybe a juice cleanse with some
Pubescent beauty queens
To see who’s first to fit into
A pair of size 2 jeans

So I look up expectantly at
The industry rep
Who says “These are all dumb some not
Politically correct

Others just plain violent as
I’m sure you would agree
And pushing boundaries found in most
Reality TV”

Then she shakes my hand, accepts
The price that I’m asking
And throws them on the intern’s desk
To get them off to casting

The Muses Are At It Again

All my nine muses sat so sweet
A pretty row there at my feet
And to those dear girls I did say
“What should we write about today?”

Calliope said “To please aesthetics
Let’s make this no less than epic”
To which Clio said “Oh please
Those no one has the time to read
Though you would find me most euphoric
If we chose a theme historic”

Erato yawned said “Boring, boring
Who’s up for a little whoring
We know sex sells, so why bicker
I’ve a wetness in my knickers”

“All you think about is sex!
Let’s consult a religious text
I feel a need for veneration
Do your best to leave out Satan
For your mortal soul I’ll pray”
So Polyhymnia had her say

Then Melpomene said “Enough girls
With all the sadness in the world
Let’s write one so they’ll end up crying
I’m thinking say, some puppies dying”

“How could we write ’bout such things
I’d so much rather dance and sing”
“Oh Terpischore let’s make it plain
You dance just like Seinfeld’s Elaine

Oh doesn’t everybody see
We’ll likely go with comedy”
Said Thalia sporting a smug grin
Urania whined “You always win”

Thalia said “Your whining pains us
How ’bout some jokes about Uranus!”
“And some music?” Euterpe crooned
And Clio said “You’re out of tune!”

Then such a sight, I live and breath
As Euterpe pulled at Clio’s weave
The claws were out most horrifying
Fake nails, underwear went flying

Thalia made a ninja move
Then punched Erato in the boob
So from the room I made a sprint
As someone screamed “Oh no you didn’t!”

But don’t you know this awful fighting
Happens often when I’m writing
Every time there is a doubt
Of what I want to write about

So your reading experience might make more sense, here is a brief summary of The Muses:

Calliope – epic poetry

Clio- history

Erato – eroticism

Euterpe – music

Polyhymnia – religion, hymns

Melpomene – tragedy

Terpischore- dancing and singing

Thalia -comedy

Urania – astrology and astronomy

Thanks to Aquileana at La Audacia de Aqulies for the information and inspiration.

Sample Letter of Resignation

Dear Boss, I’m herby turning in
My note of resignation
It’s been great but I’m overwhelmed
By other obligations

And wearing proper clothes just really
Isn’t quite my style
And I haven’t seen an episode
Of Oprah in a while

I’m strengthening old relationships
And getting reconnected
Like yesterday my couch told me
It felt a bit neglected

There’s been highlights of my career
I’m sad to leave this place
Like when you tripped in the brake room and
You fell flat on your face

Or when Jan from accounting came in
Looking all composed
She didn’t know her skirt was tucked
Into her panty hose

Guess you’ll need time to find someone
Right to fill my position
I’d love to say I’ll stick around
To make a smooth transition

But I must binge watch Game of Thrones
And catch up on my napping
So let’s be real we both know that
That just ain’t gonna happen

A fond farewell I bid, guess that about
Does it here for me
(As I hover on the Smith files and
Hit the delete key)

Optical Illusion

Got a great white knuckle car chase
Full of crashes, bumps and skids
Got a sexy family mom and dad
With two wise cracking kids

Got a real good looking fight scene though
The kicks don’t quite connect
And I’m sure we’re up to the wazoo
On the special effects

An unexpected nude scene should have
Everybody talking
And an hour in, a cameo
Made by Christopher Walken

A boy gets girl boy loses girl boy
Gets girl back again
A feel good dance routine with boy bands
Scheduled for the end

A cinematic masterpiece in
Every single shot
Which hopefully disguises the
Apparent lack of plot.

Matchmaker Muddle

Did I tell you bout Aunt Nettie?
Thought she was the schiz
Of self appointed matchmakers
The greatest in the biz

Her ears perked up her radar sharp
Her scalp and ears would tingle
She’d be the first one in the town
To know if you were single

Then phones would ring into the night
The spreading of the news
Who knew a single Jewish man
Who looked just like Tom Cruise?

Nonsmoker with a puppy dog
Who liked to sing and dance
A sexy hunky fireman
Pref’rably from France

A manly man who had a beard
Kind of a dude’s dude
Who also liked walks on the beach
And skydives in the nude

Or an aging gentleman
With vast amounts of wealth
Who let’s just say may not quite be
In the finest of health

And so her skills preceded her
Or so she’d like to boast
Though often not the perfect man
She tried hard to come close

So women did their best to try
Not to act too appalled
When their tall dark and handsome showed up
Short and fat and bald

Or Laurie the librarian
She’d found her match for sure
Till he’d end the night by asking her
The best places to score

Told Earlette she found a keeper for her
Best that she could meet
Turned out he was a homeless guy
She picked up off the street

And so it seemed that Nettie’s failures
Came out quite a cost
All hid from her following each dismal
Breakup and divorce

And though Nettie would notice how
Her friends would all steer clear
This did not ring the death knell of the
End of her career

Quite opposite her passion grew
There would be no forsaking
She now has her own website in
The world of online dating

How’s That Working Out For You?

Suzanne looked in the mirror spoke
Her daily affirmation
Best way to start her day her need
For her self validation

She said “With the earth and the stars
I’m happily in tune
And I am like a joyful breeze
That’s entering room”

And so a joyful breeze indeed
Most peaceful and content
If only she had showered and
Put on deodorant

Next day she mused “I am pain free
And so in tune with life”
Until making her breakfast cut
Her hand with a fruit knife

Said ‘F**k!’ about a hundred times
It made her late for work
Where she showed up with fruit juice and
Some blood stains on her shirt

Next day her image before her
Did once again appear
She said “I’m content with the girl
I’m seeing in the mirror”

When she noticed that on her chin
There clearly was a zit
And also the old jeans she wore
No longer seemed to fit

Next day’s reflection showed a girl
So far down on her luck
Said “I’m a complete loser today’s
Prob’ly gonna suck”

And so became her mantra because
Suzanne realized
Disappointment’s worse than to
Be pleasantly surprised