A Meaningless Tale: Compilation 09/11/2022

During the homecoming they were happy to see
That the bush and the shrub weren’t hurt by the bee
There was no regret since no time went to waste
finding the ytterbite was for what they all raced
They wasted no time in this journey of life
like presented with teeth of a tenacious steak knife
For they didn’t know they were next on the list
A symptomatic response like a crack in the schist
they went rocking along, such an agile climb
They picked from a shrub near a dirty clothesline
You could read the response on the older one’s face
That satire here was the ribbons and lace
Tied to the tree to keep all pests away
wanting nothing to bother them during their stay

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Bath or No Bath: Compilation 08/28/2022

I’m on the straight and narrow as I follow down this path
Heading to the vet right now to give my dog a bath
This always is a challenge since my doggie growls lots
But if I fail to do this chore his skin will get hot spots
I wish the place was vacant like at night when no ones there
I breathe a sigh of relief and try to fix my hair
The fact I try concealing is slapstick to some folks
But building up a facade is like mountains with no slopes
I vicariously will cover regrets with a mock cape
Even though my ideas do not have a certain shape
I ask to use the toilet to erase my sweaty pits
Happy that they use a vent, while doggie waits and sits
This all sounds like a comedy with a genius who is stuck
I wish my body held its heat I really have no luck
But without obstructing further we head to the front door
Until I hear the barking, doggie’s sniffing at the floor
There is a tiny item hiding firmly by the wall
Is that a mouse or hamster? I think it is a vole
I tell doggie to leave it, they deserve the chance to live
After this I head back home, doggie’s bath I did not give.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Place – Vet
Emotion – Vicarious
Adjective – Vacant
Verb – Vent
My animal – Vole

Evil Gambler: Compilation 08/21/2022

How many numbers can one gambler count
When wearing a crown, I’d say any amount
But he is a fool who’ll request a memento
And cross all his friends, making them foes
He’ll be unrelenting and seek a new hat
But rumors will stir, he’s too exotic for that
There’s no chance that his soul is headed up north
Heavenwardness, Godly haven, so forth
‘Cause he’s mean as a bull with secrets to hide
with his bony, white hand, he’ll push you aside.
He’ll float past the crowd on his way to the top
Then have a repast before he really will drop
To the bottom of hell or wherever it is
That bad people go, and it ain’t just show biz!
He’ll stay there and rot like bad people do
And no one will cry or ever be blue.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Just Be You: Compilation 7/24/22

Our lives are filled with radiant heat we seem to pass around
We line up stones to make our soup, no taste is ever found. 
Its like a single snapshot of idols in our world
With timeless, kitschy bundles of memories left unfurled
A lonely individual who finds a ghost to haunt 
the wet kiss from your grandma or possibly your aunt
You try to be reflective of things you may have missed
Immersed in all your drama, two lips that are unkissed
We hold on to our memories, those ones we left behind
To keep up on our future, underwhelming we may find
But a candle keeps on flickering, it burns alone you see
Smoke meandering in the air, its billowy and free
Keep on with your focus, don’t lose your faith in you
For someday we all get our gold, whatever we are due. 

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

What I Need: Compilation 07/17/2022

On a luminous night three days from now
The spirits will come, they might even growl
Myths
are beyond doubt , I’m certain to say
things that I wish for, I hum and I pray
But shortages happen, discounts are lost
I’m glum without coupons, how much things cost
Like birds on a mission in regional fields
Without worms a-squirming, dirt without yields
My heart is so willowy, hope’s trickling away
So i’ll drag my bones out on some other day.
I’ll run to the supermarket open til nine
And buy what I need and then I’ll be fine.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

What a Day!: Compilation June 11, 2022

Call it retrograde amnesia or just a flickering impulse
I conjured up my strength, as if I were someone else
My friends they did not know me, my family they would say
But I attribute all my happiness to that crazy single day
It started as a gaffe but soon turned into a cruel hunch
Disguising my whole face as I stalked away to lunch
To elevate my mood in this rare prolific phase
I sighed and ate my sandwich as I looked off in a haze
A mystery unfolding was putting all my strength on hold
The magic of a master was all that I was told
Ejected from his alter and landing with a thud
I saw my pet go flying, then a monsoon of his blood
I ran back through the hallway, the library was in sight
I didn’t leave a line of crumbs nor turn on any lights.
I hid among the books so afraid that I’d be seen
What a nightmare of a morning this day has truly been
I escaped out through a window and climbed down a brick wall
I didn’t want to wait for more I know I couldn’t stall
Suddenly I woke up, not knowing where I was
Grateful that the only thing was my alarm’s loud buzz 

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

My Writing Montage: Compilation 6/19/2022

As I sit now and think about the words here today
I catenate my words in my roustabout way
Its not an emergency this is no jubilee
but as I proceed I feel it does amuse me.
Like a blackbird who flies in the dead of the night
to a flame going out in the wind
Nothing surprises my mind anymore, so now it is time to begin
I will think of an ambulance whirling away as it seems to cross by on the street
While a meek little woman searches her purse, wondering who she might meet
She may need assistance here on the ground, her bare feet attached to the earth
Or getting her butt up on the bus, the door is too small for her girth.
I find that I am like a grain of the sand that covers a wide open beach
playing my part in this writing montage wondering who I will reach.
Now that I’m done and she’s riding the bus my search for the words has to stop
Like a saint kneels to pray the creed that he knows, my brain cells are ready to drop.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Our Time Together: Compilation 06/12/2022

Sit right down and don’t be shy while stories I do tell
I’ll catch my breath, you hold on tight, then feign a dizzy spell
We’ll run real fast to placate friends who wait on down the road
We pat a dog and pet a cat, then kill a nasty toad
Mysterious men walk on by and influence my tale
And here we are too far apart, my whispering will fail
I talk of thirst and food for thought, potato chips and dip
you think of praxis testing for a job on a cruise ship
I try to share my chain of thought but then I see you stop
You say you have an aching pain and feel like you might drop
I tell you first that we must go and then you follow me
Under stars and the bright moon we walk and then we see
Subscribing to a healthy way of eating is the best
Drink your water and I drink mine and in a pit we rest
Now when we stop you will say you cannot stand my charm
I smile slight and bring you home, I never meant you harm
I hand you now a blossoming flower with its roots
to grow in your own garden for the tree to bear you fruits
We make up then and laugh a lot of what we had just done
and realize we’re still good friends and it was all in fun.
©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Barfly: Today’s Compilation May 8, 2022

Barfly

In the middle of trouble
Where nothing makes sense
A fool will be pious
But to his defense
The drunk at the bar
Is quite erratic you see
With dirt clod fingernails
Never silver money
The heat of the moment
When one should take flight
Sometimes refuses
and imbibes in a fight
The alchemy there
In the core of his brain
Is like a carnation
After icy cold rain
Physics should surmount
The bright gold lit light
Is really a senseless
Brainwave from the fight
A snack will help fix
The untimely glow
on the poor drunkard’s face
As it’s part of the show
A ticket to nowhere
Will be true, you see
Is where the barfly
Should put his money.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 551

Brenda hosts The Sunday Whirl

pet eternity box trail flash detective check relish planets embellish moon tip

Dreamscape

My mind is flying high as I somersault through space
Looking for eternity, I dash then my slow pace
The planets soar right past me on my way straight to the moon
Knowing of my mission, the end can’t come too soon.
I embellish all my plans with a box that I can check
To see if I am happy, I feel just like a wreck
With my faithful pet beside me, relishing my speed
We leave a trail of silver lightening, a flashbulb is my lead
I act like a detective with a mission to complete
Tips and tricks abound as I rise up to my feet
I see the bed before me and know I was asleep
But the dreams I had regarded remain there, buried deep.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry