To My Husband on His 46th

It’s been years and we’re still together
Outlasted doubters and bad weather
But with these handcuffs I’m still tethered
Though many said I should know better

I say to hell with their opinions
And laugh about their lack of vision
And stand firm ‘hind my decision
Marrying a devil’s minion

Our house may smell of rotting flesh
Hints of decay and mold and death
But babe I still think you’re the best
Well beyond my dying breath

Forever in the bowels of hell
A blissful life in which we dwell
The flames of burning bodies swell
I’ve gotten quite used to the smell

Dismembered heads, our home’s decor
We dine with sinners, ghouls and whores
And I could hardly love you more
Here’s to 6 hundred twenty more

Every year I pass the torch to my husband at midnight on Sept. 14. It’s his birthday now. Happy Birthday darling. I love you!

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Poison Pens

They say our love was toxic and
It ran it’s fated course
It’s no surprise we’re headed for
A quite ugly divorce

I didn’t like the way you breathed
I drained your life of joy
I cheated with the chauffeur and
You slept with the pool boy

You took the dog you took the yacht
Said you were unfulfilled
But I think it’s a little much
To go and have me killed

But if you want to play that game
Then go do as you please
Cause now you are a victim of
Venereal disease

You should have got that looked at but
You thought you would be fine
So now I’ll have to castrate you
Right there in chapter nine

And maybe that’s a little harsh
Or maybe downright evil
But you don’t even want to know
What happens in the sequel

Where there will be no limits to
The ways in which you’ll suffer
You just may lose your job and have to
Move in with your mother

Followed by such grievances
And all in my defense
Let’s talk about a series of
Unfortunate events

Most venomous of poison pens
That ever did exist
And leaves yours in the dust trails of
The Times bestseller list

The royalties are rolling in
But you have the last laugh
For your well planned hesitation now
I have to give you half

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Fifteen

Fifteen pairs of underwear
Left on the bedroom floor
Fourteen items I forgot
To pick up from the store

Thirteen times reminding you
About tomorrow’s plans
Twelve frenzied calls from freeways cause
I don’t know where I am

Eleven times of coming home
From a day from hell
Ten TV dinners eaten that
Did not heat up too well

Nine times I asked “the garbage out?”
You claimed you didn’t hear
Eight peanut butter Oreos
That somehow disappeared

Seven days complaining that
I’ve got nothing to wear
Six drains that need plumbing since
They’re clogged up with my hair

Five neighbors pissed because we are
Rehearsing on their heads
Don’t forget the four in-laws
I think that’s enough said

About three dumpsters worth of junk
That have since accrued
The two monkeys that lie around
And eat up all our food

And then one other sleepless night
Spent listening to you snore
But I love you darling
So here’s to 15 more

For my husband on our Anniversary!

Inspired with the help of Dina over at Wine and Cheese Doodles and her post 15 to Life.

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Picky Nicky

It was me and Eddie going steady
Thought we were bound for life
Till I saw him eat a pizza slice
With a fork and knife

So then it seemed Tyler might be
Worthy of my affections
Til a Nickelback CD turned up
In his record collection

I thought Caleb was a solid guy
But it just wouldn’t do
That he couldn’t seem to name each guy that
Was in Motley Crue

On to Marvin who within my heart
I would hold near and dear
But then he ate a sandwich and
Got mayo in his beard

And Jeff I thought him a sure thing
Til it ended in shambles
When I found out in the summer he
Wore socks under his sandals

And Charlie smelled of play dough, Ted’s
Laugh sounded like a duck
And Grant was over when I found
His band completely sucked

I guess that I will just give up
On all my love affairs
And sleep with Mr. Wiggles my
Trustworthy teddy bear

He’s sweet and cuddly and so cute
And every night he’ll hug me
Although that bow tie that he wears
Is really starting to bug me.

Inspired by a blogversation I had with Andrew over at his Lonely Author blog. Thanks Andrew.

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For A Good Time Call

One day when Mother Nature summoned
Johnny was in the stall
When he saw words and numbers saying
For a good time call

And so he called the number and
Through giggles did request
If he might get some action and
So oddly she said yes

And so he went to meet her but
Imagine his surprise
She looked more like an angel he
Could not believe his eyes

And there would be romance that day
But of the sweetest kind
And Johnny loved her humor too
Her beauty and her mind

And in the years their love did grow
They made themselves a life
Which soon erased all memories
Of how he met his wife

Through thick and thin sickness and health
Poor Johnny never knew
That that was how Nick, Ned and Hal
Had met his dear wife too.

Buggy Bart

Oh, what child could not assert
Their love of playing in the dirt
Or digging sticks into the ground
For creepy crawlies that abound

And through the murky soil slick
They lift them with fingers or stick
Til goosebumped shivers make them weak
They throw them downward with a shriek

But there’s one boy who sits alone
Frantic searching under stones
Deep in tunnels beneath stems
For thorax, legs and abdomens

The beauty which he loves the best
Would outweigh long hair, leg and breast
Although he loved the fairer sex
None reached the heights of the insects

Who’s ultimate perfection found
And never ever let him down
And for those who would dare to try
Would watch him stare at compact eyes

With patience wearing somewhat thin
Behind a glass terrarium
Though our unlikely hero knew
He found a love so pure and true

So heartfelt natural and so easy
He identified each species
But those who cared not bout his heart
Would simply call him Buggy Bart

And laughs were laughed and names were called
As he walked through high school halls
Wedgies and I just assume
What happened in the boy’s bathroom

Curse those who made him feel inferior
For it was the cafeteria
Where Bart chose to volunteer
And those who teased him live in fear

Of what gets blended in their smoothie
Chocolate chips, raisins and sushi
And carefully inspect their food
To make sure that it doesn’t move.

This post is dedicated to Andrew at All Downhill From Here, who needed some cheering up.

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Roller Skating Man

Oh I never will forget that day
I saw you at the Moonlight Rollerway
You were probably 6 foot 7 or 8
But 6 foot 10 when you put on your skates
Bet you didn’t even break a sweat
When you did plies or pirouettes
And who but you could ever make a spin
Look so impressively masculine

Now the lights are beginning to fall
And they’re bustin out the disco ball
Babe do you know how you make me feel
Looking like a John Travolta on wheels
And in the meantime I’ll have to dream
Some day we’ll dance to Abba’s Dancing Queen
And until then I’ll just have to wait
Till we can do the couple’s backwards skate

And you know that I would be delighted
If my love for you was just requited
But for now I guess I’ll never know
Seeing you play Red Light, Green Light Go
Look at me, you know I’m just a hot mess
Oh my god was that an arabesque?
And as I’m staring at your animal grace
My wheels they slip and I fall on my face

This was written after a recent trip to a roller skating rink (after God knows how many years). I saw a guy there who resembled a 7 ft. tall Dave Grohl on wheels perform roller skate ballet in the center of the rink. These words are meant to be just as wonderfully cheesy as everything about that afternoon was.

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Love Schmove

The way she puts up with his morning breath
The way he puts up with her indecisions
And when they swore that they would part at death
Did they consider bodily emissions

The way his underwear stays on the floor
The way her voice is just a bit too shrill
The way Saturday nights became a bore
And then he asks her if she loves him still

The way she rolls her eyes, screws up her mouth
And moves a little closer on the couch

I’d like to thank Christy Birmingham for challenging me in the Love in 10 Sentences challenge. I honestly thought I’d never write a poem about love.

 

 

 

Who Knew?

Oh that poor Mr. Coldwater
His wife would drive him mad
The way she was so paranoid
It really was too bad

She hounded him relentlessly
It went on day and night
It seemed that she could barely stand
To let him out of sight

If she picked up the phone to find
None on the other end
She’d deduce rather quickly that
It was a lady friend

And if he were but minutes late
Home from anywhere
The Mrs. would accuse him of
Off having an affair

Strange smells they were suspected too
To set off mind and nose
And stains she questioned as to how
They had got on his clothes

So it seemed their relationship
Was soon to come to bust
For surely what was love built on
If not that of trust

And so the mister packed his bags
And to the night he’d flee
I hear that he went and ran off
With his secretary.

*inspired by the Carol Burnett skit Wrong Number-SML

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