Photonista's Blog

Good times …..

My Poetry (at your own risk people) March 11, 2010

2 Day old Coffee

2 day old coffee’s a funky sort of brew
Not Chunky, but Thick, an oil spill stew.
A tad bit more brown, than it was the day before,
Not enough energy this morning to make more.

Open my mouth and pour down the sludge.
It’s just the thing, to make my butt budge …
off of the couch and on to the chores,
and on to the little things, that make us bores.

Hot and black, i fill my giant cup
drink it, eye twitches, fill ‘er back up.
I finnish the next … sad, that empty brown ring
I contemplate maybe doing something.

Something productive, what to do what to do?
perhaps go exercise, or organize my shoes?
The wheel’s are turning, but then they stop.
I think i must need another full pot.

March 2007

There’s Coffee on my Pants

There are Puffs, Puff’s Galore
covering the nice clean playroom floor.
Smears of mini pancakes, and milk drops,
don’t even know why this mom mops.

Crumbs mashed in the carpet, snot in my hair,
hot coffee in my lap, not doing me much good there.
Dora’s not working, it’s Blue’s Clue’s for now.
Folded laundry has been unfolded…..
wonder if the little monsters know how.

Dish washer smells like ass with dishes still to do.
Got stabbed in the toe, chips in my slipper shoes.
The garbage is overflowing, courtesy “the King”
The Queen’s ’bout ready to cut off his “thing”.

Im sitting in coffee pants at nine thirty six a.m.
and a shirt made of snot and strawberry jam.
I look back fondly on those 30 seconds i was fresh,
you know, from the shower, till i got dressed.

Came down made some cofffee, fed the little dears
then the skalding of my thighs confirmed my worst fears.
Today is NOT the day, everything gets done.
The house will not be sparkly, i will not have fun.

I will not be the domestic goddess i planned to be,
With everyone dressed in white, no mess to see.
Dinner on the table, candle’s lit everywhere,
Everyone dressed …. using their silverwear.
Sex every night, when the kids go to bed,
Never too tired, no “pains in the head”.

It’s a nice dream, i shake out of my trance,
then look down at my nice coffee pants ….
Pour another cup, light up a smoke,
calm the twitching eye,
avoid impending stroke.
It’s 11:17, i guess things are looking up.
The kids may make it to naptime alive,
I may not have to wear another cup.

my morning,

march 2007

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