Writer's Block

.
He skates fast and controlled, but he clips
Errant rock. . . makes him wobble. . . he slips!
Oy! He’d had the lead nicely,
But the group’s on thin ice-ly –
How would you caption these comic strips?
.
.

Unmentionables In Passing

.
The short meet quickly came to impasse
As my ex- charged I only harass;
Though her bank accounts shrunk
‘Cause her earning skills stunk,
She did not like the term "working-class."
.
.

Opening Gambit

.
The few words she spoke, both prim and tart,
Made it clear we’re still miles, miles apart.
“You’re a prick, don’t you see?
And I’m sure you’ll agree
That your suit is way, way off the chart.”
.
.

Blessèd Ends

.
It’s a tour - there’s no need to compete;
Just enjoy the bike – helm, gloves and cleat.
Long-ass ride makes my bum
Start to chafe, then go numb--
Trade from shorts to my kilt with kick pleat.
.
.

Instead of You

.
It’s sexy-pink, and soft and warm,
It doesn’t thrash, or snore or kick ;
A body pillow I would pick.
I’d rather hug its comfort form
Instead of you.

At home, alone, where peace prevails,
Surrounded by the stuff I like :
Some simple food, the TV, bike …
I’d rather talk with garden snails
Instead of you.

Or on the road, with wheels spinning,
Small towns drift by – yet more to go –
Hills, rivers, forests, deserts’ glow.
I’d rather ride my bike (waist thinning)
Instead of you.

The double hull and sails of cat’,
Its cabins filled with friends of mine ;
Blue tropics, where we swim and dine –
I’ll spend vacation bucks on that
Instead of you.

Our children tremble, fear and cry
From hearing but your self-serve side –
The odious rants of “jilted bride” –
Good God ! Too bad your mom should die
Instead of you !

They scheme, connive, and truth condemn –
Slime lawyers from McOink, McFall !
Their progress billings count as all ;
Be sure, my coins will go to them
Instead of you !

Your life is dark and clouded o’er ;
You have no plans but well-stuffed purse.
A mean and haggard, dismal curse
Is so much better to adore
Instead of you.

( Addendum )

-- deleted --
.
.

Middle Earth and Present Earth

.
Every tree on the land is a snag,
All around there’s but fire and slag.
Hobbit life? There’s a dearth,
Ekeing out of scorched earth.
No white horse, just a black wingèd nag.
.
.

Election Results Moot

.
The truth is it matters not which
Of the parties got hold of the switch;
It’s the Fed Reserve “drug”
Got US pinned to the rug –
"Fat cats" now only ones getting rich.
.
.

My Lawyer's Bigger Than Yours!

.
While his ex- was asleep at her switch,
He filed motions designed to unhitch
His affairs from her grasp…
Awful, burbling gasp!
Eyebrows jumped! and she started to twitch!

“I don’t care for ideas that you pitch,
For they’ll all come to naught! Oh, and which
Of your balls will you lose
On this round, dear? You choose…
Or, I'll leave you with nothing to itch!”
.
.

Rave At Stonehenge!...

Hey there, baby, you got any glow-gourds?
Bring ‘em out to tonight’s Stonehenge slow-chords.
Plus, we’ll drop a few pills
To dispense with our ills,
Misbehavin’ out on the old mow-swards*.

*the old Scots word “mow” refers to that most ancient human activity.

reference: “Glow-Gourds at Stonehenge Raves All the Rage” http://www.npr.org/2011/05/14/136295663/listener-limerick-challenge .
.

All Hallows Eve

.
The Great Pumpkin, that kingliest gourd,
Rises up! – becomes fully unmoored.
Quickly floats yard-to-yard
And attempts to retard
The predations of over-age horde.
.
.

The Demonic Duo

.
Mr. Brinton and my poor ex-wife
Got together - they’re stropping a knife!
Stinging sulphurous smell–
It’s a match made in Hell!
Not much left of her mis’rable life…
.
.

Eyes and Ears

.
At the opera, Mame started to fret
That she may have misplaced her lorgnette,
But the music she heard
Sounded really absurd!
Was that 8-track or maybe cassette?
.
.

How This Ends

.
The air– it shimmers, then grows thick
And darkens. Time drags by.
Black storm clouds gather on the marge
‘Tween earth and leaden sky.

With sizzling Crack! the air reverbs,
Yet still it’s hot and dry;
The tears of Nature fail to drop–
She’s no more tears to cry.

Old shovels stir dust into clouds
And, choking, you and I
With slow and steady patience dig
The hole in which we’ll lie.

Too bad but one will shovel o’er
The box to which we vie;
The other stays through empty days
And hopes to God to die.
.
.

Slack Times

.
Now THAT was a most hurtful crack…
…And the reason you called me a quack?
I’m not God, don’t you know;
I can’t make your thing grow –
Have your wife help you take up the thwack!
.
.

Trimming It To The Core

.
Her body was svelte, sleek and trim,
For herself (and to look good for him),
Lest her frame become dense
And he stray o’er the fence–
Such domestic noblesse that we limn!
.
.

Phil's Catalina Sail - 2014

.
Entry made in the Guest Book aboard "Dutch Courage," owned by van den Bosch
(one week prior to Catalina’s Buccaneer Days at Two Harbors)

Where to spend all our pillage and plunder?-
On an island that's almost split sunder.
Every day we find more
Of its harbors galore-
But to pick just one spot would be blunder.

Both the rails of Dutch Courage got washed
(And the crew of said boat mostly sloshed!)-
Not a reef would stay pinned
In the 20-knot wind-
Marv'lous week was fair spent van den Bosch'd.

Grand adventure lived day after day-
Dinghy fun, moonstone sands, dolphins play,
Fragrant sizzling stove,
Awesome reefs that we dove-
It was sad to slip moorings away.
.
.

Tinkle-Toes

.
Beat the ravage of Time? All men flee!
But from life’s ups-and-downs we’re not free;
On this most human topic
We obey laws entropic—
When we hit fifty years, we can’t pee.
.
.

Mike M’s Birthday Dinner Toast

.

What's to say of Mike's personal skills

As he navigates through social ills?
"Scarlet! Don't give a damn!"
Puts on fez, takes a dram,
Smokes cigars, and roars, "Send me no bills!"

Yet the lady beside him in life,

In our estimate, acts as a siph-
   on of grace from above,
As he push-pulls and shoves;
His joy seems that he husbands this wife.

Who's to say if it's righteous or just?

But we're told that each Burning Man must
Show that fade and decay
Come as years pass away--
Brawley Mike has returned to the dust.

Friends, before us tonight, Mike is kilted

In a garment that he himself built'd.
At his age, there's surprise
(And delight, we surmise)
Should he find that his kilt... it is tilted!
.
.

UNBEFOULING THE NEST?

.
If the home is considered her ‘nest,’
And the kids have done well and progressed,
When the count drops to two
And her focus is you,
In all likelihood YOU she’ll divest.

Several decades, her feelings repressed,
Caused her female mind to congest.
So we’re done now because
(just believe me) it does
Absolutely no good to protest.

@Kiran mentioned the great ‘acid test’
Of a marriage. More like an Inquest!
“After years of your slop,
We have come to full stop—
I regard you as naught but ‘egest.’ ”
.
.

Matrimony and Alimony

.
MATRIMONY* [and ALIMONY]

By Mary Jones (1707-1778)

CLOE, coquet and debon- - - - - - - - air,

Haughty, flatter'd, vain, and - - - - fair ;
No longer obstinately - - - - - - - - coy,
Let loose her soul to dreams of - - - joy.
She took the husband to her - - - - - arms,
Resign'd her freedom and her  - - - - charms ;
Grew tame, and passive to his - - - - will,
And bid her eyes forbear to - - - - - kill.
But mighty happy still at - - - - - - heart,
Nor room was there for pain, or - - - smart.

At length she found the name of - - - wife
Was but another word for  - - - - - - strife.
That cheek, which late out-blush'd the - rose,
Now with unwonted fury  - - - - - - - glows.
Those tender words, " my dear, I  - - die,"
The moving tear, and melting  - - - - sigh,
Were now exchang'd for something  - - new,
And feign'd emotions yield to - - - - true.
Reproach, debate, and loss of - - - - fame,
Intrigues, diseases, duns, and  - - - shame.
No single fault He strives to - - - - hide,
Madam has virtue, therefore - - - - - pride.
Thus both resent, while neither - - - spares
And curse, but cannot break their - - snares.

* The rhymes first put down by a gentleman, for the author to fill up as she pleas'd.

[Source: Miscellanies in Prose and Verse, Mary Jones; Oxford, 1750.]

[Written at a time when divorce was not permitted and women could not hold property or employment; separation with alimony was the only alternative.]

  -- ** -- ** --

Addendum 2000:

Two-and-a-Half Centuries of Alimony

By RWB (1950's-) [who is no gentleman]

Until the State, in pond'drous  - - - glory,

Squats down and crushes all it's  - - quarry;
Systemic lies and false - - - - - - - accords,
A lifetime bounty it  - - - - - - - - awards
To treach'rous woman on her - - - - - claim
He brought her down-- that he's to  - blame.
True lawyers suckered all their  - - fee
To make him pay - - - - - - - - - - - eternally;
Their counsels held from him the  - - law,
His meager living fills her - - - - - maw.
The only chance he has to - - - - - - shed
This cursèd wife is when she's  - - - dead.

Then lo! a new day starts to  - - - - break!

A glimm'ring hope that he might - - - shake
A-loose slave-shackles from his - - - feet,
And wean her from his money - - - - - teat.
At last! a chance to start  - - - - - afresh
Without her taking pounds of  - - - - flesh!
Her cutting 'sunder hearth and  - - - home,
She's now obliged in agèd - - - - - - gloam,
For State's high law puts on her  - - back
The task of filling her feed- - - - - sack.
It is the call that each, her - - - - own,
Should fain eat harvest that she'd  - sown.
.
.