One wants six of one, or half dozen of the other
Because he'll cook a fine kettle of fish.
Fully aware he can't please everyone
For some see the grass is always greener on the other side.
So, he's busy, meets oneself coming and going,
And knows, come hell or high water,
That there's no time like the present.
Busy as a bee, one prepares the meal.
He's a book you can judge by the cover.
One quips, The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
I knew he'd say that.
One's words speak louder than actions.
One's enough to ******* the Pope.
Believe me, I have an axe to grind,
And I'm at my wit's end.
Better safe than sorry,
*Avoid one like the plague.

I've been struggling
To create a poem
With the fewest words.
Once I got down to one word:
"Yes."
That's it, "Yes."
Now, I have accomplished the unthinkable,
For me,
A minimalist's Eden.
A no word poem.
Here it is
(except for the title)


                          History of Our Planet
...ooooooooooooooooooOOooooooooooooooooo...

She brushed the ash off her jeans, though managed to rub some in.
She separated the roses from the weeds, but a few petals ended up in the bin.
She tried to let him down gently, yet she managed to bruise his heart.
She is full of good intentions, but sometimes her plans fall apart.