Saturday, July 24, 2010

Soy Milk and Flax Seed

This is my response to a posting on The Inferno about the dangers of using the last of someones soy milk and flax seed. Enjoy !

Oh my God! My head feels like a split melon! I’m afraid to open my eyes. What’s that smell? Oh lord, I think I have shat my pants! With all that Flax seed I consumed though, it’s little wonder. Thank God there are no budgies around, the seed and all that, well, the thought of a budgie pecked arse is way too much to bear just now.

Ok, open one eye, slowly. Uh oh, I recognize those nylons turned down to the knee and that floral print sun dress! Doris! Oh, her face looks like a fart through a barrel of nails. What have I done now? I would fake a smile, but I have neither the strength nor the desire. I think my left eye must be blinded! And, I can still taste vanilla soy milk in my mouth!

I should ask her for help to the bathroom. On second thought, seeing her there with the frying pan in one hand and the empty carton of Soy milk in the other, maybe it’s best I simply crawl away. I wonder when the sight will return to my left eye?

Ok, made it. Whew, them drawers will have to be burned! Lord, will I ever be normal again? Ok, let’s look into the mirror and assess the damage.

Good Heavens! My left eye is open but I can’t see from it! Wait, whew, I am starting to see shadows. Hey, what’s that? A tattoo? On my forehead? Huh? LAF-T ? What the hell??? How am I going to explain this down at the Legion hall?

Ok, I’ll shower and change and swallow a dozen Tylenol Extra Strength and take Doris out to breakfast. Let’s hope the sight returns to my left eye soon. Does this make me bi-polar sighted or something? I will fire off an e-mail to Oprah.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A Blistering Kiss

The moon and stars
Mean nothing to me.
They are, but a sailors beacon.
Wayward romantics,
And self righteous poets,
Wither in ostentatious reason.

Love is hot,
It scalds the soul.
No balm to soothe the bliss.
Sweat drenched sheets,
Loves burning coals,
A kiss that blisters the lips.

I have kissed the sun
Caressed her heat,
Smelled her heady scent.
Be gone, yee bards of night
With prose, calculated and sweet.
Your rhymes borrowed, sad and lent.

Love dwells in the light
Not in the dark,
Waning moons and midnight lust.
Give way to afternoon delights
Naked, and unafraid
Till at last with the coming dusk,

My love retires,
Spent in her love.
One last searing kiss she gives.
Succumbed to her charms,
In awe I see the heavens above,
And curse the night,
Curse that which poets believe.

The moon and stars mean nothing to me…