Writing Through The Night, Humor Options

[Guest__*]

Dear Jim:  You just keep getting better and better!  MM must be the home of insomniacs!!  I don't even Need caffeine.  My silly buzzing brain keeps me babbling brooks of poetry all night, and there's no off switch!!   You wouldn't like me on caffeine, trust me...
You gotta stick this one in Write On!  Just say I requested it!!:p

[Guest__*]

Seattle, I Should Have Stayed in Bed  :dance:


The alarm was turned up
way too loud.
It shattered my peaceful
dream upon a cloud.
Sat down to eat
at my breakfast place.
Read the bus schedule
while I stuffed my face.

Choked on my toast
as I ran for the door.
Down the stairs
and across the floor.
Instant egg substitute
still sliding down my throat,
as I hurriedly grabbed
for my hat and my coat.

Ran outside and chased
the bus down the street,
tripping over untied lace
underneath my feet.
I was busy untangling
a dangling, fuzzy cat
with nasty, Velcro claws,
a lost cause, furry brat!

I caught the bus
at the light as it stopped.
Fumbled for my change
and my school books dropped.
The bus belched and tore off, way too fast
I hoped to God, my breakfast would last.
I was feeling kind of shitty,
‘cause I could still hear the kitty.
Sat down in a seat
with a sigh of relief
As everyone stared
in mocking disbelief
at an inside-out shirt
straggled hair, and shoes untied.
Instant eggs still dripping
down my collar, I nearly died.

I shrank down,
in my seat.
Trying to look,
Indiscreet.
I began to feel,
very uneasy.
My head was spinning,
my stomach was queasy.

I drifted off into a slumber
as my stop sailed by.
Woke up three miles from home,
not understanding why.
There’s gotta be something,
wrong with my head.
‘Cause I knew,
I should have stayed in bed!


I used to rap this one out in coffee shops with bongo drums in the notorious University District.  And that was BEFORE rap was invented. Hey, Jim, be obliged if you'd put it in Write On!  Whatcha think?  You gotta get Ron in your magazine, too.  He does awesome rhyme and meter.  Goes by jdittier I think.
Later, alligators...

[Jim AKA Rapid-Fi...]

Preparing to write poetry all through the night,
     after I have checked through email and website.
     First had to have a big supper though,
     it was great and I'm ready to go.

     I thank my wife for a wonderful meal,
     turn up the heat to ward off the chill.
     Down to the basement where my computer's at,
     had to move back the chair, I've gotten too fat.

     Turn on the computer, monitor, and printer too,
     now ready for writing poetry, to post for you.
     Before the night is over, and I see the sun,
     there are some things that must be done.

     I have to have coffee to keep me awake,
     or I would never make it until daybreak.
     My coffee pot is primed and ready to brew,
     but for some reason, the water won't come through.

     Can't figure what's wrong, why it won't work,
     I'll dig out the old one, and watch it perk.
     This new fangdangled drip one must be broke,
     while waiting for the brew, I settle for coke.

     Got to keep that caffeine flowing in me,
     so I can be awake and write this poetry.
     My wife comes down, gives me a big hug,
     and as she leaves, says, "push in the plug."

[Jim AKA Rapid-Fi...]

Very cute reply CarrieAnn

[jgdittier]

Dear Jim,
Your adventures in attempting to schedule poetry writing may just extend to others of this hobby. A few physical complications might get in the way, but in your case here, you have overcome!
Cheers,    jgd

Dear Carrie Ann,
Seems to me that one writer can inspire another, vice-versa, and both benefit.
I'm hoping these two tragic good-time waker uppers don't motivate me to spill my pre-breakfast coffee on my keyboard.
I can say I'll enjoy my breakfast, no egg substitute, through a smiling mouth.
Cheers,    jgd

[Guest__*]

Thanks much, Ron.  I have been in contact with several editors who have begun working closely with me on that other matter we spoke of.  I believe they will be able to provide much assistance in the way of further resources!  Yes, I am a chronic insomniac.  My naturopath tells me that when an individual of a certain physical disposition gets around any triggering chemicals, the autonomic nervous system triggers the fight or flight response, and the brain cannot shut off as its primed to get the person away from the chemicals.  But there's nowhere in the city I can go...so, its off to the ocean to air out me Irish (plus assorted other mongrely constituted heritage) brain.  Jim needs coffee to stay plugged in all night and I don't drink it and CAN"T unplug!!  I do believe I'll be having a wee cup o' chamomile about now.  The taste is rotten, but its the number one calming herb of the old wives tales, and as you no doubt already know, one must never underestimate the tales of an old wife!!  In Kindred Spirit, CarrieAnn:

[Guest__*]

Dear Jim.  Thank you much!  Your own presence here really adds a lot of sparkle to this site!  How I have longed to find a venue where poets actually TALK to eachother.  MM has been a delightful homecoming!  Shadows is a wonderful place to post, but no one much talks to one another.  What a unique and wonderful new neighborhood Mosaic Musings is!!  Poets of the word, unite! In Kindred Spirit, CarrieAnn, and top o' the mornin' to ya!

[Jim AKA Rapid-Fi...]

Thanks for the comments Ron,  and thanks again CarrieAnn........

WRITE ON!!

[Jim AKA Rapid-Fi...]

Will take a look at that, it is over the 28 line limit, but maybe in smaller type???????  Please email it to me at jimnipoetry@yahoo.com

[Guest__*]

Dear Jim:  Awe shucks, I think I'll decline. I forgot about the line limit and don't want to add the inconsistency of small font into the magazine.  Small font's hard to read.  Just got back from a long backpack up the coast, and found the August issue in my mailbox. I love getting your magazette each month!!  Cheers!

[Jim AKA Rapid-Fi...]

Not to worry CarrieAnn,  set it up in the two center pages side by side as a continuation from one page to the next,  so got it in Septembers....

WRITE ON!!

Jim