Our family tree
Woah is me
Has termites

No pictures to prove
Who is who
Boo hoo hoo

Should it matter
Would it make us sadder
If we searched the history of us

Would we find
We are royalty
Or just of the toilet seat

We might find the dad
Who went away
Or was just led astray

Find the town
We are from
Exact locations say some

A can
Of worms
Or just deserts

Do we have to know
Will it make us
Grow

Maybe all we need
Is these little seeds
Of us now to plant

The small tree
Start fresh
Of just you and me

Stop feeding the fickle ones and they will go away.

Keep feeding the loyal ones and they will stay.

The fickle won’t starve for you.

But the loyal know they need you to survive.

Sometimes there
Just isn’t a pill
It’s just the will
Of a grey day

Go away ugly coat weather
Hide under my bed
Come out when we need you
But just not today

Twirl in my PJs
Because that’s what I need
I crave more sleep
So down my head I lay

Maybe tomorrow
Maybe not even then
I’ll deal with it when i need to
Then I can pick up my pen

How do you get your hair to do that?
Don’t wash it
Brush it real gentle
Throw in a few rats
Then give it lots of treats
It will do anything I want
Such a good girl!

Will it make you full of joy?
Will it be too many calories?
Will it make you worry?
Will it help you not worry?
Will it make you have regrets?
Will it make you sick?
Will it be calling your name?
Will it make you happy?
Will it satisfy you?
For... how ...long?
If you can, you should.
If you can’t, then don’t.

The butterfly lay on the ground
Fluttering and screaming
Someone had hit it
With their big machines
Knocking it to the ground
With her babies nearby
Someone with no heart
Someone who took no pride in life
She couldn’t tell me her pleas
I couldn’t understand her agony
She was in pain I could see
Distressed little one
Delicate we had to be
Got her wings straight
She will fly again
Hope she repairs fully
She looks worn but still pretty
How could anyone just leave it
Still alive or not
From here or not
Rich or not
Speaking the same tongue or not
Is the conscience dead
Or are some just not born with one?

Some words
The four lettered kind you know
Seem to be so overused
That their primary meaning
Has lost its use
It doesn’t make sense
To hear a youth
Or on a show
Or at the desk next to you
Over salting it between
Regular words ruined
I know you think your cool
To the rest of the school
But really it’s just sad
That you talk so bad
I can’t understand this language
You claim is human
It’s made up of a few tacky letters
So don’t talk to me anymore Mr. F
Nothing’s getting thru
You are now a word whisker
It even hurts my ...blank

Live it up as usual
Spring breakers
Life on the edge
So close to the ledge
Learning nothing of use
All that education
Given enough stupider
Was really all in the computer

Celebrating
The impending train wreck
Showing up doubtful
Mourning the losses in advance
A ticket to ride
With an expiration date?
Putting in an preorder for
Refunds on congratulations
Hoping this train doesn’t jump
The tracks once it leaves the station
You aren’t the conductor
Or the passenger
Step aside and watch
Get out of the way
Cringing, hoping and praying
You can’t look away
This is not a game
Now pronounced farewell
Yourselves will be to blame

While I discreetly
Wandered around
Looking for nobody
You quietly found me
And made me
Your somebody

Social distancing: difficult but doable

Social security distancing: they had better not!

Sociopath distancing: no problem

Social media distancing: impossible

Socialite distancing: also no problem

Social worker distancing: probably shouldn’t

My dolls hair is *****... ewe
It’s kinda full of grit and goo
Fired her styling crew
Due to layoffs... boo
Is there any doll shampoo
Or is that out of stock too?

Butterflies get all the love
Get all of the attention
Come out in daylight
When you can shine in the sun
Fold your wings
Beautiful to peer
Slender smooth stance
Grown in a fancy house

What about me?
I’m pretty too
Stout and fuzzy
Come out at night
Shining in the moonlight
Show my wings on display
Like a jet plane
Grown in modest house
Clothing not as daring as yours  
Name is small and dull

But I can still fly just as far
As you can... if I wanted
I’m not an ugly butterfly
You’re just a fancy moth

She made floaty
leaves blow
towards her
stretched out
pressed paw
to grab
under the screen
so the wind had
something
useful to do

Two ply or one
Rough or pillow soft
Squeeze or don’t squeeze
Just don’t sneeze
Someone said stock up
Now everyone needs
To be locked up

Readers can see the pain
Writers can scribe the pain
Artists can sketch the pain
Physicians can ease the pain
Loved ones can kiss the pain
Music can drown the pain
Food can comfort the pain
Laughter can endorphin the pain

What remains?
The pain—always there
No matter what we try
Physical or mental or emotional
Can blend into all of these
No matter how, it’s there
It’s there, it’s there, it’s there
Suffering our own is tough
Trying to understand the pain
In someone else’s shoes...
Even harder

Pain wants to yell and scream
Or be silent and groan inside
So why do we care?
Because of empathy
Lend an ear to hear to listen
To comprehend
To have compassion

We may have no answers
But catching someone else’s pain
When they want to throw it
Even for just a moment
Time offers a chance for relief
Just knowing we are heard

Your physical heart
Needs your figurative heart
Your figurative heart
Needs your physical heart
Take good care of both
One cannot live
Without the other

No one gets you
Your not useful
In a crisis
Poor box of donuts
I will buy you
And you’re on sale?
I will buy two

"Days may not be fair
Always
But that's when I'll be there
Always
Not for just an hour
No, no, not for just a day
Not for just a year
But always"
----

Phil Collins " Always " Live in Berlin 1990

Lyrics by Irving Berlin

Pookie the velvety frog
Charlie the blue tailed purple rat
The little grey mouse with pink ears
I couldn’t leave them
All alone in a separated bin
In giant second hand land
They needed me to save them
Or they may become trash
I begged Grandma- see!
Help me-help them!
Relief... thank you Grandma
They became my “best ofs”
Second hand toys
But not second hand friends

The Jar Jar hot pocket
Unicorn on the cob
Chile verde beak plate
Pickled innards sensation
Most of it recalled
Or no returns accepted
Last dinners of choice
During the panic invasion

Adam said to Eve
I got a little something
Up my sleeve
Very funny honey
Do you think me naive?
Replied Eve
You don’t even wear sleeves
You can make me some
Then I can say
I have something up my leaves

I’m sure you would
Very funny

My prickly underwear's
You insensitive laundry monster
Why on this big round earth
Didn’t you use more softener?


By: Evil Snarf and The ****** Poet

“After an orchid stops blooming
Take it gently from its ***
Shake off the old bark
And cut off any dead roots with a Sterile razor blade or scissors

Don’t make the mistake of putting
It into a bigger ***
Because orchids don’t like that
They like to have their roots
Crowded in a small space

So *** it into a same size ***
Holding its leaves so the roots
Dangle into the ***
Add bark and gently mix the pieces
Around its roots to hold them
Snugly”

(I thought this “how to make a orchid bloom again” was like rekindling love using words like gentle and snugly, caring for the roots and taking great care of this most precious delicate thing)

Running away from yourself

Shows you have the strength to run

And it’s ok to run away for a while

Just make sure you come back