Sir Wilma and Madam Walter: Compilation 8/8/22

Walter was a hen and Wilma was a drake
They were the perfect pair, ducks swimming on the lake
They spent their days in sun with energy replete
With added bliss of food right under their four feet
One day Sir Wilma cried for he had lost his gal
Overbearing sadness, some kind of living hell
Being pathological wouldn’t do him any good
So he went back to the car and he sat upon the hood
He waited til the dark made it harder for him to see
He figured he’d go home and make a cup of tea
Later that same night there was knocking on the door
In came lovely Walter and she was mad for sure
She was fit with rage at the actions Wilma had.
She told him she was angry, she told him she was mad.
He showed no reluctance to hamper her madness
to live out his life sentence, to always do his best.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Jewish Sugar-Glider: Compilation 08/07/2022

In a happy, little synagogue tucked up in the hills
there was a sugar-glider who mostly swam for thrills
He didn’t have the webbed feet like ducks and other birds
Soon he was just paddling no need for excess words.
He later went to Rabbi on a whim to seek a task
He wanted the whole testament, a bit afraid to ask
He knew he needed parchment to write down all the words
He understood it’s length was long, timing was absurd!
Nothing now could hinder him from learning his new faith
He didn’t seek approval so he waited ’til the eighth
For on this very special day the glider could perform
Surprising the old Rabbi as if swimming was the norm
He came to him quite slimy, his fur was feeling damp
But Rabbi said he loved the show, turning on his lamp.
What the Rabbi saw just then really made him blush
‘Cause Sugar-glider forgot his pants as he had tried to rush!

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

My Dreams: Compilation 08/06/2022

Atop our belvedere, I can view the lake below
home to many ducks blowing bubbles as they go
Behind my chair I hide the scene glued from long ago
A swatch of ugly wallpaper I never want to show
Each time I see the wall I catapult through space
wondering who the audience was who thought it was the case
that walls belonged to them, with horrid pictures of
trees and flowers, birds and nests, and all of the above.
So now I sit and ponder what life would be without
this ugly wall behind me, I get so mad I want to shout!
I want to make it pretty with some other sort of stain
And perhaps a silky painting in a circular-type frame
I just want to enjoy a touch downright and relaxed
and dream about tomorrow as I rest here on my ass.
I think I’m going to make a new tradition with the ducks
Just let me take your eggs and I’ll leave them other stuff
like bread and fruit from home or tiny little seeds
Anything they want and really anything they need.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

My Fantasy: Compilation 08/05/2022

I carved my name in water or so I told myself
purporting it’s my bijoux, fine findings of an elf
a triangle in shape so explicitly pronounced
Like a lesson from my mother my view’s what really counts
the recorder of my exploit is only my old phone
and if you don’t believe me, well sorry now it’s gone.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

A little about me: Compilation 08/04/2022

Part-time sewing is my passion
even though I don’t know fashion
I beat a drum to a different beat
I don’t pull strings or stomp my feet
I work part-time in my domain
Orchestra music keeps me sane
I write down a-many striking line
Any solecism makes me whine
This is true although its quick
Lying to people makes me sick
So drop on by and add your muse
Did I mention I like the blues?

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Utopian Relief: Compilation 08/03/2022

Invariably direct, the enemy proceeds
In tempo with the steps, measured-out stride speeds
A classic kind of surge, movement towards the top
Flushing out the meager, not willing them to stop
Remunerated gifts get handed to the crowd
Surreal sounds arise, cheers becoming loud
A melancholy lull comes down to stunt the noise
Little girls and boys stay quiet with their toys
Time has come to leave, some people are content
A historical milestone, a memorable event

Thinking of Me: Compilation 08/01/2022

I remember the day that I made my pledge
with a smile on my face, all my words had an edge
No major life changes, abundant success
No longer a kid, I greedily confess
For they have a slight trace of disturbed verity
A high on their horse most boisterously
But for me in my world a forest full of delight
only minor complications, no hate and no spite
My oration half over, like caramel in milk
Sinking and swirling cream covered silk
A sweet wintergreen with a flat outer shell
All things I think of, but I never tell
Instead I say things that sound masterly
My confidence rippled like a stone thrown to sea. 

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2022/08/01/wordle-281/

https://fivedotoh.com/2022/08/01/fowc-with-fandango-abundant/

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2022/08/01/three-things-challenge-m42/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2022/08/01/oration/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2022/08/01/rdp-monday-caramel/

https://thedailyspur.wordpress.com/2022/07/31/think/

Celebration: Compilation 07/30/22

One night in late July
We had a jamboree
Firecrackers fly
Song in harmony
The melody was right
The group in unison
Festivities with all
Automatic fun
Scintillating stars
Burning in night skies
Beauty is exploding
A wonder for our eyes. 

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

True to Myself: Compilation 07/28/2022

You know what really got me in my own small, guarded spot
was that this lifestyle of socializing was the only thing I’ve got.
The animus of my sharp mind was exclusively shut down
The guilt of my own actions had me feeling like a clown.
A column of my articles stood neatly in a row
a testament to how I liked my true being to show
The guile of the social group kept me spinning in my head
It made me realize what it was I wanted for my world instead

Crazy Lady: Compilation 07/26/2022

She’d been watching her old neighbor’s house
for weeks
and weeks and more
but she saw something impossible
that made her
lock her door.
Her desire to unlock it was an option
she disposed
the brutal looking man outside
made her quietly avulse
Approximately two days more
and she was overcharged
Reacting like a live wire
was feeling very large
She couldn’t share her upset
she knew they’d find her daft
She looked and sounded crazy
especially when she laughed.
She pulled out her old pistol
and aimed it at the door.
Thats where they found her body
a bunch of bones now on the floor.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry