The Joy of Stipulations

Thank you, WordPress, for three wishes,
I think that is just the thing.
But, I’ll add some stipulations,
Making it more limiting —

First of all, no pageant answers:
No end hunger, no world peace.
Secondly, no request “metas”
Just three wishes, no increase.

Thirdly, none to help out others,
Friends or family, old or new;
Fourth and last, I cannot wish for
Things that only God could do.

All of this, I did with purpose.
Setting boundaries realizing
That my wishes must be selfish,
Real, not self-aggrandizing.

One: how ’bout a life’s supplying
Of Five Hour Energy?
I’ve one helping ev’ry morning,
It’s been very good to me.

Two: I’d like to see a home game
Of the great Celtic FC:
I have never been to see one,
It sounds like the place to be.

Finally, and most emphatic,
I would like a Steinway grand:
(Grand piano, if you don’t know)
That would be my last demand.

So, WordPress, I am now waiting –
Caffeine free, football deprived –
For my brand new honking Steinway,
Which has not (as yet) arrived.

But I’m sure this is a mix-up
That I’m waiting for this prize:
This can’t all be academic,
Just some sort of exercise

= = = = =

A Daily Prompt post.

One more color

What he told me.

I’d wanted to add just one more color,
  but then, they took my painting away

I thought there was still time for art and love,
  but they said, no, it was time for my meds

Who hears me now, that I can’t scream? When
  even my prayers are monitored for content?

It needed umber or siena; a forest scene.
  We walked in the woods on our first date –
    You’ve never heard her story, so
      I need to tell it while I can —

I talk a lot with the air conditioners, here.
  Do you? They help my paintings dry.

I needed to add that one more color

I need you to know how beautiful she is

She was


What’s “high tech” is always fleeting…

Drive-In at Sunset

Nineteen seventy-nine, and waiting-
Life had largely passed me by
Finally I started dating
My last year of senior high

I, an antisocial creature
Rarely came out of my pen;
Took a date to see a feature
Film, down at the old drive-in

Like to say we steamed the windshield
But instead we had a fight
Out there in the cars in that field
On a muggy April night

Only time I ever “Drove-In”
It was no fun in the end
Drive-Ins died before I dove in
But they could come back again

What’s “high tech” is always fleeting
What’s on the up or downswing:
But I guess it bears repeating
Drive-Ins, once, were quite the thing