Out of It

I don’t have much to say

No one listens anyway

Just share stuff with my dog

And post it here on this blog

Because he doesn’t read

And only cares about his feed

Or if I scratch his scruff

Obsolescence can be tough.

Treasured

I try my best to give my hoard away

Despite a less-than-consequential stash,

At times I do it every single day

But couplets aren’t the same as cold hard cash,

They’re worth a whole lot more (at least to me)

Each word a priceless treasure on its own

And value will go up substantially

When proper placement chills one to the bone.

I hope some future person on a quest

Alights upon this shore in cyberspace

Excited by a shining gem or two

And feels a sudden thrumming in their chest

As their quiescent heart begins to race

With passion that I helped them spark anew.

***Well this is it true believers, today marks 20 years of posting on this blog. The first poem I put here was about classic poetry books I found at a garage sale, and to me they were worth their weight in gold. I shall continue writing and maybe get another 20 in. Thanks to all who have read and commented over the years. I love you all – RCH***

Subject of Interest

Our overlords are little dots of light that cross the sky

And you can only see them if you take the time to try

But once you actually notice them, there’s not much you can do

Except to pray with all your might - they haven’t noticed you.

Dynamic

Consistently inconsistent 

Described him to a tee

Apparently only persistent 

At always wanting to be

Undeniably different 

Than anyone else alive

Consistently inconsistent 

A curious way to survive.

Another Lonely Song

Her hips will hypnotize

Luscious lips will tell you lies

And you are hers to compromise

You knew it all along

For when you watch her walk that way

You feel your heart begin to sway

There’s nothing you can do but play

Another lonely song

Another lonely song

To listen to all night long

While wishing she was there by your side

A haunting melody

That you can sing in any key

To help you forget your wounded pride

Her legs are looking good

So much better than they should

It’s time to quit, you wish you could

You know you’re not that strong

Remembering way back when

Turn your guitar to ten

Then grab the nearest pen

And write another lonely song