Thoughts 4
Thoughts 4
Not A Good Day
Woke up rested this beautiful morn
heard a noise down the hall
words I never heard in my life
It's not a good day
Coffee pot grounds spilled on the table
the cat had an accident on the floor
Spotty the dog ripped up a new shirt
It's not a good day
My burnt toast set off the alarm
bacon fatty and eggs not set
now the stove is a big mess
It's not a good day
Last vacuum bag is too full
lipstick in the washer ruined my sheets
lunch at the burger house was so dry
It's not a good day
Mowed the lawn and hands all worn
weed wacker chopped up a toy ball
this day is so crazy with so much strife
It's not a good day
I'd like to hire help if I were able
but this is the worst day and goes on more
then dang I lost my contacts in the dirt
It's not a good day
Maybe I should have never left the farm
or perhaps I should take off in a jet
to a place with more exotics leaving the rest
It's not a good day
Life is not always so full of bull
my wife smiles at everyone she meets
I'm a stay at home Dad...that's why!
You have a good day
© Julia A Knaake
Connecting
The feeling of your touch
when physically not there
brings great joy and pleasure
feeling forever connected
When time to say I love you
it is said by both in unison
it's a natural occurrence you see
feeling forever connected
united for a mutual cause
makes the quest smooth
and meaningfully bound
feeling forever connected
Little things may not be much
knowing that you really care
is more than a golden treasure
feeling forever connected
Pleasures sensing what you do
feelings for that special person
being in love is a choice to be
feeling forever connected
There are no hand written laws
it's only in your heart that does move
where joined feelings united abound
feeling forever connected
© Julia A Knaake
Sent a little smile today
You brightened my day
when I heard your cheerful
voice and I was so glad.
Sent a little smile today
Our conversations are
filled with brightness
and joyful merriment.
Sent a little smile today
At times silliness flies our way
other times thoughts are dual
and the connection is ironclad.
Sent a little smile today
Wishes upon a falling star
with never say neverness'
out love has been God-sent
Sent a little smile today...
© Julia A Knaake
333
three thirty three watch it and see
angel wings will be there for thee
glaring at first with blinding light
the body all tensed with fright
bound, twisted and turning inside
dripping sweat they are your guide
an instant of blinking made it weighty
the angels have brought you to safety
© Julia A Knaake
A REAL TOAD
Your leathery fat body
and your wart-like glands
are a real turn off to me.
back to the Tropics where you belong
Amphibian surely is a good name
given for you, it is oh so true,
as you are absolutely so full of bull.
back to the Tropics where you belong
Your wide stubby body with short
fat legs,warty and dry skin all over
your ugly self is too much to behold.
back to the Tropics where you belong
Your family, friends and everybody
else you have contact with are not fans
as your darkness is not pleasant to see.
back to the Tropics where you belong
With this attitude you play a game
most people learn to be sick of you
and lying bull is what you are so full.
back to the Tropics where you belong
If only your meanness you would abort
then life would be full of sweet clover
and together we could have grow old
back to the Tropics where you belong
© Julia A Knaake
Day Dreaming
I have noticed the tiny smoldering dent
in your chin quivers when you laugh
and when you smile your lips curl into
the most sensual and playful little grin
Oh my sweet, your spicy scent drives me wild
with raw wicked desire and my heart
skips a beat when I see you move slowly across the patio
Your pure white shirt open is an invitation of deep desire
The way you sip your coffee in the morning is so silken when you
sip the very last drop then look into your cup with enticing lust
for more to be there long after it is gone. I have such an insatiable
and unstoppable desire to jump up and fill your cup with estacy
You arouse the animal instinct in me
and I would wish to pounce upon you
to hunt for your quivering lips and savor their sweet taste
upon my own lips smoldering with desire
Whenever I dream of our skin pressing
hungrily into flesh my self-control erupts.
Oh how you delight and tempt me.
I've such an erotic crave for you that is overpowering.
Oh, no now I must hide my face in the morning news
I am smelling the strong pungent aroma of strong coffee
and warm croissants with spicy marmalade
my neighbor will soon be on his patio, to smile and nod hello
© Julia A Knaake
...---...
She stood at the edge of the Mosi-oa-Tunya. The mighty waters created by the Livingstone ancestral spirits roared with such a powerful force, but Kathy was not going to let that stop her from jumping into the magickal waters that some had told her granted one eternal youth. She closed her eyes, and clasped her palms. Then said a quick prayer. "Grant me eternal youth, o great ancestors. I only have this..." She took out a small blade from her fanny pack made from the fabrics imported all the way from Trong. Underneath the moonlight's night glow, she gazed in awe at the trickle of blood pouring from the cut she made in her right palm. She winced.
When she looked around, and over the other point of the mighty waters, many beastly eyes were staring right back at her. They glowed with a dark crimson hue, and then she heard a piercing howl coming from behind her. This startled her, and she slipped falling into the arms of the smoking water that sounded like thunder.
The next day, a young man who was kayaking along the bottom of the waterfall stumbled upon her body. He screamed, and alerted the authorities.
The local news channel, Livingi 1, who had been dying for a hit story rushed to the scene and caught footage of their latest of what was trending, and happening in the tourist capital of Livingstone.
The young man was speechless. The local news channel broadcasting team and the reporters had tried to ask him to explain what had happened. The only thing that he kept repeating was: "Her face's gone. Her entire face's gone. Her face's not there. Her face's missing."
The reporting crew sighed. This was not going to work, maybe they would wait for a little while before they asked the man to further elaborate, and if he knew what had brought about the death of the faceless Jane doe.
The police officers after a thorough investigation were pleased to report that they at least knew the Jane doe's name, Katherina Bwalya.
Her body was left at the morgue. Once there, the investigation would begin on trying to figure out what caused Katherina's death, and how she died.
The detective called in for the case was Jane Chintu. She had graduated top of her class from the Livingstone Detective and Investigative Academy (LDIA). This case rattled every bone in her body. This was nothing like most of the cases she had had to solve during her internship with the police in her final semester at the academy. For this one, she would have to end up using the local resources to try and figure out what exactly was going on here. Quite alright her methods relied on a blend of the methodologies of deduction learned at the academy, including various legends of the peculiar happenings, or going-on's that took place near the magickal Mosi-oa-Tunya.
Her partner, Daniel Sekelani, grinned. "I see the spark in your eyes, Ms. Chintu!"
Jane smiled, and replied, "Oh, Daniel, please just call me Jane.
"Yes, of course." As she said this, she raised a fist, and punched the air with gusto. "You already know that I am determined, and ready to find out what happened to Kathy."
"So," Daniel spoke almost in a whisper,"do you think 'twas a ghost that..." He moved his hands and acted as if he was choking himself.
"Please." Jane said as she rolled her eyes. "There are no such things as ghosts, Daniel."
Daniel stared and froze in place. Jane walked ahead, and then noticing that her partner was not by her side, she turned around to face him. "Hey." She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Stop being a joker. Let's get to work."
Mr. Sekelani burst out laughing, and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Alright. I promise I will stay alert, and focused on this case." He grinned, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his thick cold season jacket.
"The police officers mentioned that when the found her body, and took it to the morgue something peculiar happened....
"The only thing that Kathy had across her face when she was pulled out from the bottom of the waterfall was three dots, three dashes, and another set of three dots.."
#...---...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9A3tBINRdiE.
26th June, 2023.
Ladybugs
Ladybugs mean love, especially in winter.
Don't you just love ladybugs?
A snapshot from my childhood --
Scavenging ladybugs, their
tickly legs prickling my skin,
their effervescent wings
unfolding into hearts.
Hundreds of them, all bound together into a huge nest.
I was six then,
and Angela lala was the girl down the street.
I had a crush on Angela,
along with the other six-year-olds from my neighborhood.
Us younger kids - not yet jaded about nature,
not wanting to point our magnifying glasses at the ants
percolating through the cracks in our moms' front steps,
igniting and killing them.
Or putting salt on poor, unsuspecting snails to make them shrink into themselves,
like dogs who had seen too much of the world.
No.
Junie, my friend, and I were innocent. Cruelty hadn't tangled our hearts.
So we swarmed around the bush in front of Angela's house,
stuffing the sidewalks with chubby arms. In angular, not-quite-grown knees.
The older kids just shook their heads.
We peered into the nest of black and red
Irridescent in the sun
and said, "Look!" "Wow!" "Awe!"
These friendly insects let us touch them,
gently.
Almost like the sea anemones at the beach,
With their sensitive blush of tendrils,
they responded to us.
Tiny slick browns when we angled our hands, caught one
- or many -
weeding their way through tiny-child-sized hairs.
No wonder I gasped,
as my dad lay dying,
at a single ladybug lounging on the back porch,
effervescent on a February morning.
#Ladybugs #Childhood #Death #Grief #Magic
Where There is Hope
There is more hope
God's precursor
To disappointment
Softening the blows
Hope is a readying mechanism
It's a broken kite string
It's a cancer ward vibe
It's a Valentine's Day card
From the ugly
To the undeserving
Never let anyone tell you
They hope someday...
Whatever it may be
We've all got something
Don't let them off the hook
Help them off the floor
Hope is the concession of the dazed
It's the inability to accept
That maybe you are fucked
Just because you feel it
Doesn't make it true
I wish you all
The best of luck
David Burdett
6/23/2023
Eye of the Needle vs Humps
No problem for the unhumped
My humps explain
My difficulties getting through
The hump I carry for each sin
The hump I profit for my avarice
The humps grown in disloyalties
Lick the end of Clotho's thread with a forked tongue
Still creates a taper for threading her spindle
While Lachesis salivates
The eye of the needle accommodates
But only so far as Atropos' decision
And my fate matures
The shape of destiny is a landscape
Of humps on the horizon in stark relief
To the sunset we all ride off into, through contracting needles' eyes
Iris-out and fade-to-black
There's always room for fluid hope
When leaving the humps behind
A matter of metre
So many wonderful words we write,
When we dream of a seed and sow it.
A novel or sonnet may come to light
If we take the time to grow it.
And many are they but plenty are we
Who would yearn to be the poet.
Lovers embrace on the moon tonight
Should our pens' pretenses show it,
And an angel's wing will want for flight
Should the villain reveal what's below it
For limitless bliss or the fury of those
Who would yearn to be the poet.
From the dawn of man at the start of time
One would pick up a verse and bestow it
Upon thirsty mind set afire by a rhyme
A fine lyricist would overflow it
And words were like wine dripping down upon those
Who would dare to be the poet,
Or might care to undergo it
Remember the past or ignore the day
Come the troubadour, minstrel, and bard
Leaving doubt behind, keeping woe at bay
And distresses, disregard
When the words of a beautiful, dutiful voice
bring a healing to the scarred.
Very few children understand
And many who do outgrow it
The Raven, Silence, Fairy-Land
And his name, you surely know it
For it was Edgar Allan's hand
Which put the Poe in poet
And as a child, remarkable he
Was a poet and didn't even acknowledge the fact.
Loud (r)Love(327) and a Moon of Assisted Suicide...
Hello, Writers and Dear Readers.
On the channel today, we feature a tie for first in last week's challenge, and announce Challenge of the Week CCXXIX, which is linked just below this small paragraph, which will technically consist of four lines, because four lines just adds up on this hot and bright summer Thursday. Hope you sexy-minded beasts are keeping cool.
Number 229: https://theprose.com/challenge/14099
Channel link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6baahLzdXPY
And.
As always.
-Thank you for being here.
The Prose. team