On Humor

Neanderthal

 

Awoke on this fine morning to the clamor of the day

i stepped in side my living room and wished id run away

As I looked around the devastation, the chaos and debris

I heard five guilty voices… their pleas “it wasn’t me”

Well heck… I guess I slept so sound last night… I guess I didn’t know

A localized hurricane… was whipping up a blow

Sweet hubby with his blatant charm, offered to set it right

It doesn’t matter... I smiled sweetly, you still get non tonight

All day I had to listen, to the repetition of his woe

I murmured placating comments… as I thought where he could go

He actually tried conversing with all the elegance of an ape

He started sounding reasonable… guess its time to medicate

I got these pretty pink pills… to help me make it through

“But seeing as how you’re the biggest cause… should I be giving them to you”

Perhaps if he were sedated… I wouldn’t be at beck and call

Perhaps I was mistaking…

to marry a neanderthal

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i do?

so long ago i said i do
      the flush of love was something new
      if i knew then what i now know
      i may of very well said no
      with several kids now under feet
      my once true love glued to his seat
      the house "i'll fix" i know he said
      but his tool now a refuge for a spiders web
      with my house my love in disrepair
      and my lounge now my childrens lair
      with toys across the floor wide strew
      foundations shaking with the latest tune
      my stress has grown to full extent
      my energy now fully spent
      but now i know in my insanity
      i should of said no .. when he said marry me

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landlady
Twas one fine day with snow abound
three inches thick upon the ground
The landlady stalked with torch held tight
to unfreeze her tenants frozen pipe
She looked at the pump with the water froze
cold cold snow now freezing her toes
Burning torch held over pipe
heating lamps both burning bright
Cursing cold that seeped through bone
with non of the tenants staying home
Was the water running ? .. she went to see
face lit up with jubilee
water flowed from faucets clear
a job well done and  full of cheer
Back to the pump went the shivering lass
with cold cold hands and a frozen ass
Packing up her tools of trade
as the light bulb broke a spark it made
The pump the torch the lighting blew
the snow the  housing the lass it threw
Strew all around and burning bright
was wood and filling and poor lass contrite
Legs on fire now cheating cold
this brave young lass now dropped and rolled
The moral of this story now taught to all
is when your out at the pump and you’ve got the gall
to use a bulb with such fragile glass
heres the secret........FIRST CHECK FOR GAS

landlady2
this is an ode to a sturdy lass
and the cure that she found for her frozen ass
now read this praise but please pay heed
an explosive temper if done a misdeed
with a smile and good humor shed perform any task
shed scurry through mud any job that was asked
but one day a pipe froze and she stomped through the cold
at the pump house she toiled to get it unfroze
it grew colder she shivered this poor frozen lass
working with heat lamps and torch till at last
the water was flowing but then with a bang
the pump house exploded her ears how they rang
fire was flying and now with hot pants
she was stamping on flames in a furious dance
now hot and burning she rolled to the snow
and in reading this poem im sure that you’ll know
an explosion and fire as now we are told
is no way to ease our poor lass from the cold
though warned we are prior the question remains
what did the pump do to set her aflame
i know that from now on the phrase will recall
explosive of temper ?....quick drop and roll

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romantic nights

dishes piled high...with in the sink

your suppers late... thats bad you think

your storming off... in a royal mood

screaming orders... for some food

complaining hard... that suppers late

im reaching now.... for that new cleaned plate

i smile sweetly... as i dish your food

the puppy cleaned it ... really good

i listen to... your vast complaints

as i clear away... your emptied plate

your full of shit... but not for long

laxative stew... do you think thats wrong?

it was over salted... and and dosed up well

i hand you coffee... and you cant tell

thirst is quenched... but its full of spit

because im tired ..of your constant shit

your playing cards... on computer screen

ignoring me... but i wont be mean

i watch the clock.. as i wait and smile

the laxative.. will be just a while

your belly rolls... and you clench your cheeks

an hour later.. the bathroom reeks

and yet still... you are... so full of crap

but dont worry dear... cos ill get you back

bed time's near... and you think we'll play

but no way darlin... theres non today

a final coffee...and you drink it gone

that was a doze of trazadone

feeling drowsy... you've your teeth to do

with that very same brush... that i cleaned the loo

so nag complain and bitch and squeal

ill smile sweetly.. as you call to heel

now snoring hard ...to wake the dead

your belly empty... though you were fed

i grab my pillow... as i ponder through

what the law would do ... if i smothered you

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forgive me... Mother Mary Moirae
because iv been... a wicked lass
for all the times... that i got even
for everything... that came to pass


for every time... he hit me
i evened up the score
till he finally reached that level
where i could safely... use the door


from work i'd smile and greet him
with a coffee... hot and sweet
the sleeping pill crushed in it
was my special little treat


a night of peace... and safty
till supper time came round
the laxitive... mixed in his stew
id watch him wolf it down


i confess i stiffled laughter
as he ran to bathroom door
as finish up the house work
and any other... given chore


when dishes washed... werent good enough
the pup... would clean his plate
and still he would be whining
that the house was in a state


id scrub the floor and bathroom
then id place his tooth brush back
and id smile...so very sweetly
as revenge i would extract


now moveing on to laundry
and his never ending jeans
a snip on every second stich
as i weakend up the seams


for a while then id rest in peace
as supper ran its course
untill he would then join me
and attempt to push and force


but there are ways around that
and i think i found them all
from laughing when he dropped them
to saying he was small


a yawn within the moment
or reaching for a cig
most affected once their mounted
i think i used up every trick


so forgive me... Mother Mary Moirae
for these examples are so few
but it would take a month of sundays
to confess to all... i used to do.

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