I’m not yr punching bag
Not yr piñata
So give me a break
what is it you are after
I’m not yr pincushion
Not yr whipping boy
so why are you so intent
on stifling my joy
Yr not my parole officer
you are not my judge
so don’t cross examine me
& please don’t call this love.
Penny has a new pet.
A Labrador called Lucky.
It’s what she always wanted.
He sits, jumps and spins around
and chases after frisbees.
Penny takes him for long walks
on the screen.
When he’s tired Penny puts him to bed.
His kennel is a black microchip.
When Penny slips it in the game console
Lucky comes out to play.
He woofs with delight and rubs
his snowy head against the screen.
Penny would love to cuddle him.
- pic courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
We’ve come to a quiet place
beyond the squalls and storms
where nerves frayed
we tore each other’s hearts
a quiet place
to berth our frail vessels
a good place to stay
- photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
* picture courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Come to me, says the garbage truck to his love,
Waiting on the edge of the road for him,
You’re late, she says, looking at her watch.
I’ve been here since early morning.
Never mind, he says. It’ll be worth it
Grabbing her firmly around the waist,
Clutching her with his cold metallic hands,
You could have warmed them first, she says
Never mind the temperature, feel the grip,
he answers. Come into these loving arms,
Now. Doesn’t that feel good?
Wasn’t that worth the wait?
I bet you say that to all the bins, she says
As he gently places her back on the sidewalk.
See you next Thursday, he calls back.
I can paint by numbers.
I can paint a picture for you in one thousand words.
I can even play ‘Paint it Black’ on air guitar for you
But every time I paint myself in a corner
I need you to pull me out.