Spend the whole week waitin’
One night a week that I can bust loose,
Where the rooster is a’crowin’
And testosterone is flowin’
And a guy can give the devil a goose.
It’s a ritual demand
That the girls don’t understand,
They can’t figure out what it’s all about.
It comes on like a fever
And there’s only one reliever
When it comes around to boy’s night out.
Ooohh, I got to get it goin’
Got to have a little fun.
Got a few seed left that still need sewin’
Put the devil on the run,
In a place that’s void of inhibitions
Where I won’t be afraid to shout.
Just keeps the beer flowin’,
Don’t care where I’m goin’,
Cruisin’ by on boy’s night out.
I’ve been workin’ for a dollar
Til it makes me wanna holler
And give the boss a piece of my mind,
But I try to hold it in until Friday night and then
I’m able to relax and unwind. We play a hand or two,
Maybe shoot a round of pool
And complain out loud til there’s no doubt.
Every challenge that we air,
Every problem, every dare,
We solve it all on boy’s night out.
Finding Myself in a Sugar Bowl
My Wedgwood sugar bowl
burgeons with scraps, crumpled,
stuffed with promises. Sad,
limp fragments, unused,
or pencil-faded. A recycler
at heart, I think I must use
them, know a lifetime
not enough to make poems
of them all. The future of cold
is infinite. Poetry an uneven
equation, one shredded
idea not another's equivalent.
One only. One hope. One that pops
itself from the pot, makes me
maybe you'll be like your dad
maybe you'll be better than your . . .
Carolyn Howard-Johnson, Award-winning author of the HowToDoItFrugally Series of Books for writers http://www.blogger.com/”http://www.HowToDoItFrugally.com”
One Moon Leaps From A Jar
Filled With Honey
Now Covered In Bees
It Becomes A Center
I Spin Like A Spoke
To See My Self
As Another Moon
Caught In A Milky Way
Another Moon Drips In Carmel
Licking Its Lips In Silence
As Energy Splits A Hair
Filtered Dreams Bake
A Moonlit Shadow
Conscious Fragments Protrude
From Sun Spots
While Numbers Crack
Meaning On Half Moon’s
Full Moon Drifts Alone
To Smile About
They ‘jacked her from the fast food drive-through.
Car-jacked the Lexus from the drive-through.
Then the ATM; they needed cash, too.
You know, the ATM; they needed cash, too.
They drove through a parking lot full of kids.
Parking lot full of screaming, shouting kids.
Showed her off; that’s what they did.
Showed off her and the Lexus; that’s what they did.
Quiet little voice inside her head,
Quiet little voice inside her said,
“Make them like you or you’re dead.”
“Better make them like you or you’re dead.”
“Guess that waltz sounds funny to you.”
“Probably the opera would sound funny to you.”
“Just let me out; keep the car and money, too.”
“Please let me out; keep the car and money, too.”
They drove to the lake in the bright moonlight.
Down to the boat ramp, moon was shining bright.
They pushed her out, drove away; she was alive.
They pushed her out, drove away; she had survived.
A screaming, laughing voice inside her head,
Screaming, laughing voice inside her said,
“They must have liked you a little, you’re alive.”
“They must have liked you enough, you survived.”
I know that woman; her name is Julie.
She’s smart and strong, and sweet.
Because she’s smart and strong and sweet – she survived.
She’s smart and strong and sweet, and she’s alive.
Jan Bossing © 2007; Joelton, Tennessee
Ode to Autumn
Trees show off a new wardrobe
of red, yellow and orange leaves.
Pumpkin pies beckon to you
to take one home on Thanksgiving Day.
And a turkey filled with apple & cranberry stuffing
is waiting to be carved.
It's that time of year
To say thanks for all we have
To remember those who have less
To tell someone "I love you"
To live life to the very fullest
To be the very best you can be!
Most of all, on that lovely Autumn day,
remember to pray!
Irene Brodsky, Author of Poetry Unplugged