Category Archives: humour

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Canada Day Finale

Fireworks

(photo credit: dianegottsman.com)

promise of firework celebration
draws crowd hours in advance
like iron shavings to a magnet
seduction of even most staunch
early bedtime proponent

champagne cork “pop” and glint of color
turn all eyes to east
an organism unified by quest for entertainment

Snap Flash
Bang Fizzle

myriad colors light the sky
Bursts of Sparkle cascade outward
from cores of intensely concentrated energy
Rainbow sparks spray upward
gushing geysers
arcing ever higher
still glass skyscrapers
offer moments of gauzy reflection
Kaleidoscope colors
weave and wend across the night sky
starry paint by number
to satiate throng’s appetite
for glowing color spectacle

Applause, cheers echo
along hillside, rooftops, riverbanks
broad smiles of delight
fading into the night
like spent explosives
 

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The Chase

Self compassion peeks
tentatively
around a corner
aware of censor lurking
ready to pounce on any opportunity
Forming an unholy trinity
along with self judgment and perfection
this triad wields a hefty mallet
capable of quashing any forward progress

As compassion takes a chance
stepping into the limelight
the chase is on
Prudence and caution
dart in and out
with guilt and blame
they hunt
grace and tenderness

Hope and resilience join
to give compassion strength
together they soundly rise above
negative quibbles
They giggle with the realization
that censor is not the authoritative leader
it deliberately claims to be

Compassion’s gentle trio
add a breezy freshness to outlook
Sending censor, judgment and perfection
back to the shadows
void of their influence

by

Sidewalk Hustle

sarasvati

(picture credit: sitarsencat.com)

Alive street
brimming with people
Ants on anthill
Flurry of activity
sunshine and warm temperatures
lure people out of their homes

Half naked children
cavort in fountain
water arcs jumping hole to hole
slip effortlessly through grasping hands
to squeals of delight

Androgynous orator
long purple hair
tie dyed skirt
slender body
spews rapid fire rap verses
with deep male voice
crossed legged listeners
seated on soft green grass
rapt

Jugglers toss balls
dangle
dangerous looking knives
contortionists
squeeze
through string less tennis racquet
vie for attention of passersby
vie for opportunity to separate
observer and contents of their wallet

Festive atmosphere
brisk business
ice cream and gelato sales flourish
chocolate and vanilla stained faces of children
witness treats eaten

Above hustle and bustle
floats
ethereal sitar music
haunting melodies
images of orient
exotic far away regions

As the notes rise and fall
calmness is felt
in the heart
of the street side activity

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Rhythm

Dawn stretches her colors gracefully
behind an accumulation of grey cloud
rendering a rhythm
to start a new day

Breath of my sleeping husband
joins the diurnal pulse
his chest rising and falling
like gentle waves cresting

Percolating coffee
pfft, pfft, pffts
as it tries to contain
energy within the beans
struggling to maintain tempo
to find a perfect blend

Rain patters on the window
knocking for entry
to escape its own wetness
adding to pattern flow
already set in motion

Windshield wipers wiping
kind of like singing off key
their meter gasping disappointment
at the incessant downpour

The day’s cadence quickens
acquiring a staccato feel
stop and go cars
interrupting honks

The surge in percussion
throbs in my temples
requiring an end of the day sip of wine
a sunset beat slowing things down
to match dawn’s graceful rhythm

by

Napkin Writer

Words gush to the surface
like bubbles in a poured glass of Prosecco
rapidly fill a glass
then settle, continuing to gurgle, roil and fizz
These words are unsettled
want to be expressed
need to be released
before disappearing into oblivion
unable to be recalled
simply gone

Like pop rocks on the tongue
producing an explosion of flavours and sound
that quickly disappear
these words are a flash
of concepts and impressions
in danger of dispersing
without being understood

Furtively I look for a vessel
for these tumbling thoughts
no paper to be found
a large white dinner napkin
becomes the carafe

This unlikely flagon
now absorbs and holds the ink of a pen
breathes words unspoken
Meant to be crumpled and disposed
for a moment this simple means
designed to wipe away excess or spillage
becomes a keeper of words
thoughts made conscious
Alive on soft white cotton