Writing a Classic

Pardon a bit of sarcasm and humor in this poem.  Sometimes, the early morning air produces something to laugh at and have fun with.  In all seriousness, I enjoy writing very much, and I appreciate you for stopping in.  And remember, it is okay to smile and laugh as you read this poem.

black vintage typewriter

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Sitting at my writing desk this morn

Feeling quiet peace, verses reborn

 

Actually sitting in the kitchen

Its table welcomes a mind, come in

 

At least the coffee is always close

Never allowing a mind to doze

 

Sometimes, words flow as a writer crafts

Other times, words can’t even complete a draft

 

Robert Frost’s classics, all awaken

Images of “A Road Never Taken”

 

Wondering now, what words will gather

Searching for a poem, words come faster

 

Hemingway understates how he writes

“There is nothing to writing” . . . just write

 

Just writing . . . crafting thoughts into words

Words gather now, like wild zebra herds

 

These best efforts resemble “pig slop”

Destined for the pig sty, one more flop

 

Sarcasm aside, writing with pride

Readers, appreciating the ride

 

Few writers ever craft a classic

As for me, never changing tactics

 

Well, tomorrow will bring much better

Fortunes change, wearing lucky sweaters

low light photography of books

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Rebel and the Red-Neck Bears, Chapter 3

brown wooden house near trees

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Here is the final chapter of the series.  If you missed either of the first two chapters, here are the links.

As Chapter 2 wraps up, Rebel’s curiosity is bring him more and more trouble.  In the meantime, the three bears are nearly back home.

With one hot tub left to check out, Rebel cautiously approaches.  He feels the warm water beckoning him to jump in . . . and he does, clothes and all!  The steamy water feels just right as he slumps down in the perfectly sized tub.  Hmm, he feels like he could stay here forever.

Soon, the perfectly heated water serenades Rebel to sleep.  His long trip away from home has left him more fatigued than he realizes.

A few minutes later the Bears arrive back home.  Finished with their walk, yet famished, each of them looks forward to enjoying a warm breakfast bowl of porridge with some of the berries that they harvested during their uneventful walk.

“What’s this!”  Papa Bear roars with frustration and anger.

In the front yard, all three bears witness the carnage done to their treasured four-wheelers.  In shock and disappointment, Papa Bear sees that his machine has moved a few feet from its accustomed parking spot, its headlight has been left on, and a huge blob of bubble gum is stuck to the seat.  Mama Bear, in disbelief, agonizes that one of her back tires is flat.

Junior Bear screams, “Who crashed my bike into the maple tree?”

Sure enough, Junior Bear’s four-wheeler is crumbled like an accordion against the magnificent tree, which now sports a nasty divot in its massive trunk.

Papa Bear’s temper is beginning to swell as the family proceeds into the house.  In the living room, they find that their sturdy, comfortable chairs are untouched.  “Thank goodness for that,” whispers Papa Bear in a quiet, uncertain voice.

“Oh my dear!” Mama Bear cries out as her eyes scan the rest of the room.

The three view the damage done to their prized video screens.  Paper Bear finds his remote . . . well, at least the shattered pieces left on the floor.  Mama Bear stands over her smashed video screen, which is lying upside down on the floor.  Both are feeling their usual calm demeanor heating up into a fiery rage.

Junior Bear frantically surveys the room and cannot find his brand new mobile game device.  He growls, “Someone is going to pay for this!”

Now all three of the Red-Neck Bears feel their emotions burning hot—nearly as red as the scarves that are tied around their necks.  Junior Bear runs upstairs to the bedrooms, looking for his game device.  Sadly, he returns downstairs empty-handed, but he reports that their bedrooms appear untouched.

Hurrying through the kitchen, the family barely notices the full bowls of cooling porridge waiting on the table for their starving appetites.  Their hunting instincts lead them all out the door into the backyard.

Papa Bear walks up to his gigantic hot tub, and he finds a pair of beat-up sneakers and dirty socks lying on the ground.  Hmm, someone has been in the backyard, too.  Mama Bear hurries to her tub, and she immediately finds Junior Bear’s gaming device drowned and dead at the bottom.  She begins to “bear” her teeth.

“Mama, Papa! yells Junior Bear.  The Bears surround the final and smallest hot tub.  Sleeping in the tub is Rebel, the thirteen-year old, delinquent boy, who has turned their tranquil and contented world upside down.

All three of the Bears hiss and growl!  Their razor-sharp teeth are showing, and their ferocious claws look ready to carve up the skinny, teenage boy from the big city.

Jumping up awake in an instant, Rebel takes one look, and his final expression says it all.  He is frightened, and his face turns totally white with terror.  Will he be the Bears’ morning meal?

Screaming, he jumps out of the hot tub and rushes back into the woods—barefooted and soaking wet!

Rebel continues running all the way home.  When he reaches his destination and safety, he tumbles into his warm bed—exhausted from his frightening ordeal and escape from certain death.  He has never felt so frightened or tired.  Sleep overtakes him almost immediately.

But hang on . . . the story is not finished yet!

Several hours later, Rebel wakes up from a deep sleep as the morning has started without him.  He quickly realizes that he has been dreaming the strangest of all hallucinations.  His shoes are scattered in a corner of his disheveled room.  His dry clothes and socks are piled on a chair, and he is wearing his worn and faded “Three Bears” pajamas.  Everything looks and feels just right.  He sighs and smiles . . . being home feels just right!

Meanwhile back in the woods, the Bears have returned from their usual morning walk.  Their four-wheelers, waiting for an afternoon ride, are perfectly parked in a straight line in the front yard.  In the living room, the furniture and video equipment look like they are ready for another day of use.  Junior Bear looks out the kitchen window, and he is already thinking of some hot tub time after breakfast.

The Bears’ morning is going just right.  Their world is unspoiled here deep in the woods.

Their porridge has cooled, and it tastes just right.  Everything else looks and feels just right . . . except!

Junior Bear walks past the kitchen counter and discovers three red-colored scarves resting there.  He asks, “Where did these red scarves come from?”

Haiku Series #47 (Humor)

Sad, But True

Another gray day

Wintertime, always dreadful—

Must be Ohio

2019-january-20-frosty-and-foggy-morning-in-ohio-001.jpg

A frosty and gray day in central Ohio (January, 2019)

 

Quick Exit

Waiting at the dentist

Somewhere, a drill does its thing–

Hey, I’m out of here

business care clean clinic

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Miserable

Thunderstorm pours down

Soaking waterproof matches—

No campfire, cold food

selective focus photo of obalte green leafed plants during rain

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Monday Memories: The First Tree Is Mine

Today’s “Monday Memories” poem was previously published in February, 2019.  Enjoy its short, yet humor-filled verses which tell a bit of a story.

gray concrete roadway beside green and brown leafed trees

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Farmer Fred lives near an insignificant, small town

His atrocious driving skills are very well renowned

 

He pops into town usually once a week

Leaving his farmhouse to take a peek

 

After a day filled with nothing and too much fizzle

Fred stops over at a local tavern to wet his whistle

 

He orders a cheeseburger and a sweet sarsaparilla

When a wayward woman spots this handsome fella

 

Marge is a forgotten classmate from their high school

She navigates quite well when playing a game of pool

 

She stumbles over and sits down—a bit wobbly

Ordering another drink seems to be her hobby

 

Fred informs Marge that his driving is now restricted

He has been crashing too much and been ticketed

 

Marge asks, “How do you then drive that old Ford truck?”

Fred replies, “I just need a navigator to bring me luck”

 

He asks her, “Interested in helping me one final time?”

“Sure my dear friend!  But . . . the first tree is mine!”

 

Rebel and the Red-Neck Bears, Chapter 2

brown wooden house near trees

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Welcome to Chapter 2 of the story.  Previously, in Chapter 1, Rebel has discovered the Red-Neck Bears’ cabin, with no at home.  Being a boy filled mischief, Rebel enjoys having the run of the place.  In case you missed the opening chapter of the story, this link will take you there:  Rebel and the Red-Neck Bears, Chapter 1.

Let’s check back at the final part of the previous chapter.  Enjoy this chapter of a three-part series.  

Jumping off, Rebel steps over to the final machine.  Everything feels just right as he sits on the seat.  He eagerly cranks up the motor and takes off for a spin around the front yard.  Being a city kid, Rebel has never driven anything like a four-wheeler.  He quickly loses control.

Crash!

A mammoth maple tree blocks the path of the small four-wheeler.  Unhurt, Rebel hops off.  He seems unfazed by the damage done to the tree, much less the mangled front end of the machine.

Meanwhile, the porridge continues to cool in the kitchen.  The Bears are enjoying their early morning venture into the woods, but they realize that they must soon turn around and begin heading back before the porridge becomes cold.

Rebel scampers up the front steps and boldly enters the cabin without any fear.  He has assumed, correctly of course, that the home is empty.  After all, no one came running outside when he foolishly crashed into the majestic maple tree.

Inside the living room in plain sight are three different sizes of video screens.  The Bears enjoy gaming on each of their individual screens.  Walking right past the three comfortable-looking chairs, Rebel checks out the enormous video screen, but he cannot figure out how to operate the remote.  Frustrated, he throws the remote at the wall, and it shatters into several pieces.

Sliding over to the slightly smaller screen, Rebel becomes frustrated with the poor quality of the video.  His impatience ruptures as he slams the screen to the floor, cracking it in more than one place.  Anyone can see that young Rebel has a temper that boils over quickly and easily.

Last of all, Rebel spies a small mobile game device sitting on an end table, and it looks just right.  He has used a similar device before at a friend’s house in the city.  Happily, he begins playing on the device before slipping through the kitchen and dashing past the cooling porridge.  He takes the device with him, thinking that he will keep this for the journey home.

Meanwhile, the hungry Bears are nearing their home.  With a brief stop to gather some fresh berries for their porridge and some firewood for the wood stove, they will be back in less than ten minutes.

As Rebel glides out the back door, he realizes that his family is probably quite worried about his sudden disappearance.  He is set to begin his walk back through the woods towards the city, but three hot tubs catch his wondering eyes as he hurries across the backyard.  A morning dip appeals to him before he begins his journey for home (and a stern talking to from his parents, who have been distraught all morning).

As he approaches the tubs, he kicks off his shoes and socks.  Rebel dips a hand into the enormous tub, but he discovers that the water is much too hot for him.  Moving over to the next tub, he dips a bare left foot into the calm water, but swiftly pulls it back out.  With the water feeling like ice cubes, he accidentally loosens his grip on the gaming device.  The device falls to the bottom of the tub where it suffers a frigid, fateful plunge.

With one hot tub left to check out, Rebel cautiously approaches.  He feels the warm water beckoning him to jump in . . . and he does, clothes and all!  The steamy water feels just right as he slumps down in the perfectly sized tub.  Hmm, he feels like he could stay here forever.

Soon, the perfectly heated water serenades Rebel to sleep.  His long trip away from home has left him more fatigued than he realizes.

Rebel and the Red-Neck Bears, Chapter 1

brown wooden house near trees

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Deep in the woods stands an enormous and beautifully built cabin.  The cabin has been the most magnificent home in the immense woods for many years.

The cabin provides a well-to-do home for the Red-Neck Bears.  They keep the inside of their cabin looking pleasant, and the yard is always maintained to look better than any found in the woods.  Someone always asks, “Why are they called the Red-Neck Bears?”

The Bears always wear colorful red scarves around their necks.  The bright red color separates them from the other bears that live throughout the woods. The Red-Neck Bears are a family filled with plenty of sophistication and class, and their lifestyle is the envy of all who live in the woods.

Some may feel that they already know the story of the “Three Bears” from childhood stories from long ago, but this is the sequel that few have ever heard of.  Sit down now, relax a spell, and enjoy the story.

True, there are three bears.  The family’s patriarch is Papa Bear, a mighty beast with a loving and soft heart.  His lovely wife, Mama Bear, keeps the home running smoothly with tender love and care.  Their child, Baby Bear, is so grown-up now that Papa Bear likes to refer to him as Junior Bear.

The Bears awake early on this warm summer morning (as they always do).  Each puts on a fresh and clean red scarf as is the family’s tradition.  Mama Bear prepares the usual breakfast of porridge (some habits never change).  As expected, the porridge is much too hot for anyone to eat so the family leaves their cozy and comfortable cabin for a quick, morning walk while the porridge cools.

Now, let’s see where the rest of the story goes.  Remembering of course, this is a sequel in the storyline of the “Three Bears”, aka “Red-Neck Bears.”

While the Bears are away, mischief arrives in their front yard.  A curious and sometimes naughty thirteen-year old boy, Rebel, stumbles upon the cabin.  He has run away from his family who live in the big city on the other side of the woods.  Rebel is always in trouble back home, and his parents have threatened him with a harsher life filled with fewer privileges until he shapes up.  He is on his way to becoming the most obnoxious of all juvenile delinquents.

As Rebel steps into the yard, he quickly discovers three four-wheelers parked in a perfectly straight line, just like they have been waiting for his arrival.  The Bears enjoy taking rides throughout the woods on their splendid machines.  It can be quite exhilarating to experience the vastness and beauty of the woods while riding these sporty vehicles.

Rebel jumps on the gigantic four-wheeler, but the seat feels much too large and too hard.  He accidentally spits out his hunk of bubble gum, and it lands squarely on the seat.  Looking to his right, he moves to the next four-wheeler.  The seat fits better, but it feels much too soft.  Frustrated, Rebel deflates one of the tires just because it seems like the right thing to do.

Jumping off, Rebel steps over to the final machine.  Everything feels just right as he sits on the seat.  He eagerly cranks up the motor and takes off for a spin around the front yard.  Being a city kid, Rebel has never driven anything like a four-wheeler.  He quickly loses control.

Crash!

A mammoth maple tree blocks the path of the small four-wheeler.  Unhurt, Rebel hops off.  He seems unfazed by the damage done to the tree, much less the mangled front end of the machine.

Monday Memories: Twelve Forgettable Christmas Gifts

Here is a humorous poem filled with amazing, and quite forgettable Christmas gift ideas.  I am not sure if I see one for me, but perhaps you will find something unique for yourself.  The poem was published in December, 2018, and it has been updated.

man in santa claus costume

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Imagining a zany list of gift ideas for another year

Let’s make Christmas cool again, as it comes near

 

Sitting here tonight in Ohio’s Buckeye land

Not too certain about Santa’s helping hand

 

Hoping that special gifts will await under the tree

Thinking that “some” might be pleasing for thee

 

A self-stirring coffee mug looks quite neat

Stirring my cup o’ Joe will be an easy feat

 

Christmas tea bags offer a fresh twist

Leaving my cup filled with a tasty mist

 

Is that Darth Vader defending the door?

Inflating him brings fear and much more

 

I’m not really into checking Twitter most of the time

Looking at a set of framed tweets, could be just fine

 

My stocking might be filled with a hockey stick snow brush

Cheering for my beloved Blue Jackets on the ice is a must

 

Someone spies a cassette tape collection of familiar songs

Wondering where to find a cassette player that is long gone

 

Golf ball finder glasses will most likely do the trick

Searching for each wayward shot in rough so thick

 

My daughter tempts me with chocolate Brussel sprouts

Wishing for “just” the sweet chocolate, leaves no doubt

 

A senior moment’s memory workout DVD should be slick

Keeping my brain’s recall functioning, makes a great gift

 

Coffee drinking in the morning, wine sipping late at night

Using a “Flip Over” glass, makes switching work just right

 

Last of all, needing to conceal every doughnut so sweet

Receiving a doughnut mug may hide it—isn’t this neat!

 

Warming myself in front of a blazing fire this cold night

Hoping that another lump of coal, will never be in sight