Grampy’s Burlap Underwear

♫ When your life is without care
And when your nether’s without hair;
To follow laws, you can’t be bare,
So try our burlap underwear.

Grampy’s Burlap Underwear!
Grampy’s Burlap Underwear!
You’ll want to swear
If you’ll but dare
To wear
Ol’ Grampy’s Underwear! ♫

Photo by Skylar Kang on Pexels.com

©2021 Chel Owens

I’m sure to get hired by a PR group soon… Try your own hand at a humorous jingle for a product that shouldn’t be sold for this month’s A Mused Poetry Contest.

Late for Work

There isn’t time for smiling eyes and toddling legs; fat fingers grasping loose Cheerios.

There isn’t time for “Uh-oh” cups of milk -thrown, giggling, to the just-mopped floor.

There isn’t time for biting kisses, hair-ripping hugs, or I-got-your-nose-Mommy.

There isn’t time for all the ‘helping,’ all the sighing; all the crying.

There isn’t time for childhood.

So go to work. There isn’t time.

Photo by Tatiana Syrikova on Pexels.com

©2021 Chel Owens

More Ranting, in poem form

C’mon, guys! Get angry and enter the A Mused Poetry Contest by this Friday. I promise that it’s fun!!

Assphorisms

Roses are red, ’cause they’re all full of thorns
That pricked you and caused you to bleed.
Violets are blue ’cause they’re feelin’ fed up
With being around all the weeds.

The bluebird of happiness doesn’t exist,
‘Cause Fate shot it, and served it with rice.
‘Fact, the only bird he and Karma will give
Is the one that isn’t so nice.

Think positive. Right; like my thoughts are the why
For pandemics; bankruptcies; death.
Moments that might take our breath all away
Are mostly just taking our breath.

The one thing I’ve got, right down to an art
Is lack of an income; cash flow.
Money can’t buy up my happiness, see,
So my mood ought to perk up tenfold.

My momma said there would be days like today
But not any days like the rest.
She couldn’t have known ’bout the last ten twenty forty years
When she said I should give it my best.

In conclusion, I’ve seen that the problem is all
The people we’ve voted to lead.
It might also be my life consequences
……
Nope. It’s th’ gov’ment, indeed.

Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com

©2021 Chel Owens

Genetic Dress Up

Granma said I had her hands.
From Mom, I got her hair;
In fact, I got her everything
But not her everywhere.

Daddy said we both could talk
‘Bout science or the sky.
Aunty found her backside’s home
And hips’, above my thighs.

Granpa gave me both my ears
And then he gave his nose;
If I had known, I’d’ve passed them by
And just gone with his clothes.

Unca thought we laughed the same
At similar, odd jokes.
Great grammie said, “Jes’ be yerself,
“Don’ blame yer looks on folks!”

She’s one to scouff;
She’s got my mouth.

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich on Pexels.com

©2021 Chel Owens

In response to Carrot Ranch’s prompt:

January 14, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about dressing up. It can be a child or another character. Be playful or go where the prompt leads!

Respond by January 19, 2020. Use the comment section [on her site] to share, read, and be social. You may leave a link, pingback, or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

What is the difference between dying and dying?

We, all of us, are dying
but only some are dying

What is the step between
this life
and the next

Is it like a step or a

misstep

into darkness

Or, is it many steps of a    journey       toward          LIGHT

Or is it
blissful
nothing

while those left behind hold your empty hand and shout your name
–in an echoed space–
and young children stand alone on the landing from whence you stepped, confusion fear loss fear hope fear sadness fear pain fear fear fear

in each

tiny

tear

We, all of us, are dying
but only some are dying

What is the step between
this life
and the next

and why do we not install a railing?

©2021 Chel Owens