Give Thanks

I don’t participate in popular social media events -unless I do so my way. When others share 10 Things I Hate, I share 10 Things I Love; if they tag a friend for One Photo Each Day No Description, I tag myself and post the most humorous artistic-looking picture in my feed.

November is no different. Sure, I’m grateful for stuff. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, after all. The reason I love it, however, is because it’s untainted and wholesome. It’s mine and my family’s. If I start telling everybody what I’m #blessed with, that’s bringing the public to a very private thing.

But, since November 20th, my Twofacebook feed has been different. People I hadn’t seen in ages, people who were only sharing political agendas, and people who only brag have all been giving thanks. It’s fantastic.

I have, too. For, I’ve loved the very different feeling I’m experiencing. I love the new stories about relatives shared by a cousin, the baby and grandbaby pictures from my neighbors, and all the photographs of nature and sunshine and happiness…

So, give thanks. It’s beautiful. Happy Thanksgiving.

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

…and, yes, I still share things my way -but I am participating. 😉

©2020 Chel Owens

WINNER of the A Mused Poetry Contest 10/9/2020

Just in time for Halloween, this week’s challenge was to write the wittiest message inside your next anniversary card. So, who wrote the wittiest?

Unaltered By Time, by Michael B. Fishman
148,920 hours since we said, “I do”,
and honey, baby, I still love you.

You always fight fair, you sometimes let me win.
And who really cares if you’re no longer thin?

You’re the mother of my children and one day you’ll agree,
that it’s probably a good thing that the kids look like me.

You’re the one and only entry in my little black book,
and it’s never been a problem that you really can’t cook.

Your eyes are as bright as that very first day,
and it doesn’t bother me that your hair is all gray.

All these years later, and I happy I met ‘ya?
Every minute, every day, oh sweetheart, you betcha.

Congratulations, Fishman, on a-musing me! You won for the clever, terrible, almost-sweet mentions to your sweetheart.

Others went a similar direction. Others, still, went farther for a good laugh. Read and enjoy:

Untitled, by Trent McDonald
Happy Anniversary!
(Only 4 days late)
Did I tell you today
That you look great!?

And can you believe
It’s been 10 years?
So full of smiles
(And full of tears…)
I remember that day
Oh so very well
(A party the night before,
I still felt like Hell.)

But you were beautiful
In your gown and vail
But my hung-over mind
Was only thinking of some tai..(BLEEP! – sorry, keeping it PG 😉 )

But overall it was
A day from Heaven
Even if the rings were forgotten
By my best man, Kevin

And since that best of days
When you were made my wife
I’ve counted my blessings
So thankful that you are in my life!

(Did I make it up to you
With my poetry?
Will you please unlock the door
And perhaps forgive me?)

Untitled, by Jon
Dear, Oh dear,
Another year!
Let me be clear:
I want to share,
as many as you dare!

An Anniversary Messsage, by H.R.R. Gorman
They say marriage is about sparks,
About that someone who in the dark
Sets your mind and loins aflame.
But isn’t that meager? Lame?

I’ve learned in this blissful year
That’s it’s more like cracking a beer
Open and accepting farts
Are made by those with good hearts.

So while I take a hot shower,
You grunt on the throne with power.
It’s the sign of your loving care
That you keep pooping and don’t stare.

Happy Anniversary!

Untitled, by Hobbo
Married now for fifty year
And I still think you’re hot
So, love is in the air, my dear
When you say,”Yes. Why not?”

Aunty Jess, by Mister Bump
To write this prompt, it wasn’t hard,
I hardly ever send a card.
My family is very scant,
Except down under, have an aunt.

Another aunt in Lancashire,
She’s eighty now, delightful dear,
Her birthday now is round about,
I’d better pull my finger out!

The card’s awaiting me to send,
My missus made it last weekend,
Better than I could have bought,
But to the message, gave no thought.

No flow’ry message was supplied,
Just “Happy Birthday” stamped inside,
As long as there’s no writer’s cramp,
All I’m waiting for’s a stamp.

Must keep my cool, not overkeen,
Her birthday’s not ’til Hallowe’en,
By then must break out from my bubble,
If card is late, I’ll be in trouble!

Untitled, by Deb Whittam
Roses are red
Violets are blue
We’ve grown old together
What are we going to do?

Hard of hearing,
You snore, I fart,
Thirty years together
It’s way too late to part

Untitled, by Gary
So sorry this card is late

So sorry I’m a bit overweight

I thought we had an anniversary last year

Do we really get them every year, my dear

Just 122 words is perfect for a food shopping list

Or divorce papers which I have chosen to miss

I’ve really got no idea why you put up with me

Especially as I’ve just spilled coffee over your settee

Untitled, by Ruth Scribbles
Thirty years ago

We tied the knot

You promised peaches

That’s all I got

Always on the cards, by Over Soil
Last second writing “All my love” so cursory,
Time and again made us forget each anniversary,
For us, protecting trees was always on the cards,
So what better than a trip to a nearby plant nursery.

Untitled, by Ellen Best
I love your beard … when its not there.
And the shine … that’s not hair.
The way that you snore sounded sweet
Well until, the first time it woke me from sleep.

I love the ring in your nose
The way you bite at your toes
Because you can’t be arsed,
to get the clippers off the shelf.

I like all the things that you do,
But you never bag the dogs poo.
Now that might make me mad,
just a bit.
I am glad we got wed,
Though you spent a week in bed
Because of jet lag
As I recall you to say.

Romance is not dead
We’ll have adventures you said,
So we married on a beach in the bay
Even the bomb squad didn’t ruin our day.

—–

Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

Thanks for playing!! Return tomorrow for next week’s prompt.

Michael Fishman, here’s a badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works

EH?, a poem

IT’S BEEN A TRIP
I CAN’T COMPLAIN
WE’VE BROKEN HIPS
AND SWOLLEN VEINS

THROUGH CATARACTS
I SEE YOUR FACE
YOU’VE GOT MY BACK
SO HAS MY BRACE

WHENE’ER YOU SNORE
AT TEN PAST LUNCH
I LOVE YOU MORE
THAN THIS OLD HUNCH

AND SO I SHOUT
SO ALL MAY HEAR
(‘CAUSE BATT’RIES’ OUT)
I LOVE YOU, DEAR.

©2020 Chel Owens

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Don’t forget to submit a poem for the A Mused Poetry Contest!

The A Mused Poetry Contest 10/3 – 10/9/2020

Welcome, one and all, to the A Mused Poetry Contest! We are very serious about humor here.

These are the specifics for this week:

  1. At Ellen’s suggestion, the Theme is the wittiest message inside your next anniversary card. (And, coincidentally, happy anniversary to her and her husband!)
  2. The Length needs to be short and sweet and easy on the ink. Let’s keep it under 122.5 words.
  3. Rhymes are a popular and catchy way to sell greeting cards, but it’s not a requirement for this contest.
  4. The Rating can be PG-13 or cleaner (please avoid cussing).
  5. The years have been kind to your sweetheart …or, maybe not. Either way, make him/her laugh. They’ve put up with you this long, after all…

You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next Friday (October 9) to submit a poem.

Use the form below to stay anonymous for a week.

Otherwise, for a more social experience, include your poem or a link to it in the comments. Drop a comment if you try to link back and it doesn’t show up within a day.

—–

Have a wonderful anniversary!

—–

Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

©2020 Chel Owens

Duty can pack an adequate sack lunch, but love may decide to enclose a little love note inside… Obligation sends the children to bed on time, but loves tucks the covers in around their necks and passes out kisses and hugs (even to teenagers!)… Duty gets offended quickly if it isn’t appreciated, but love learns to laugh a lot and to work for the sheer joy of doing it. Obligation can pour a little glass of milk, but quite often, love adds a little chocolate.

-Linda Andersen, Love Adds a Little Chocolate

Love the World

Broken friendless lying dying, lifts a hand for

-anything-

Walking talking presses buttons, flashes past within her world.

Why stop living in the mirrors, in the spotlight;
save lying dying friendless one?


.sneaky unseen creeping coughing, enters silent crownèd killer.


Broken homebound lying sighing lifts her hand for

-anything-

Walking talking, in his sunshine, stops outside her locked front gate.

Why not wave at silent windows, in the sunshine;
save lying sighing homebound face?


Then or now, we all are people;

Now or then, we all need love.

-Look around-

and nourish others

Smile, wave, and love the world.

photo of a person leaning on wooden window

Photo by Dương Nhân on Pexels.com

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Wandered in for Carrot Ranch’s prompt:

May 7, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story to nourish. The characters can nourish or be nourished. What else can be nourished? A tree? A setting? Does the sunset nourish the soul? Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by May 12, 2020. Use the comment section …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.

How Much is That Love in the Window?

One inch of glass was all that stood between them. She’d measured, knuckling her finger and squinting with her face against the cold, cold window. Still, one inch between her and her Tomàs meant little.

Some days -well, nights, really- she’d leaned a sunken cheek against her side and felt those serious, warm lips from his side. Her weak heart fluttered.

“Come away, child,” they told her; dragged her.

Stretching, grasping; she used what little strength she could muster. To stay. To keep watching.

To keep loving Tomàs, the paper boy on the corner who never turned her way.

newspaper-boy-4

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Coming from a sad place, for Carrot Ranch‘s prompt this week:

April 23, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about distance dating. It can be any genre, era, or setting. Who is dating, and why the distance? How do the characters overcome, accept, or break up because of the distance? Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by April 28, 2020. Use the comment section …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.

Politics and Idiots

After composing a beautifully-worded rant against the stupidity of humanity, I decided the world would benefit more from a picture of my baby boy.

20200206_165710

This is from shortly after he began smiling socially -about two months ago, I believe. In all the chaos outside our walls, he is my motivation to stay well and my reminder to be happy with who and what we have in life.

—————-

And here’s my writings from the past week:

Wednesday, April 1: Thought about where things are going in “Let’s Make Some Order in This Chaos.”

Friday, April 3: Winner of the Weekly Terribly Poetry Contest. Congratulations to Writerinretrospect!

Saturday, April 4: Announced the next Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. The theme is a senryu about a small, innocuous animal. PLEASE ENTER!

And, an update on Coronavirus and life happenings ’round these parts.

Sunday, April 5: “How to Wake a Teenager,” in response to Carrot Ranch’s prompt.

Monday, April 6: An inspirational quote by LA, of “Waking Up on the Wrong Side of 50.”

Tuesday, April 7: “Going Postal, IV.” Poor Ron.

Wednesday, April 8: Today.

I also posted on my motherhood site. I probably ought to log in and check that sometime… Apparently, I wrote “This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.”

 

©2020 Chelsea Owens, including photo

WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 2/28/2020

My apologies, as usual, for the lateness of posting. As such, no more dallying.

The winner is:

Anniversary threnody

by Bruce Goodman

Today is our anniversary
And I’m just writing to say
I hate your guts.
No ifs or buts;
I hate your guts.
And God knows
You’ve plenty of guts –
Not courage but great wads of fat
Hanging over the top of your belt
Like a petrified tsunami
Brought about by eating too much pastrami.

We had known each other for almost two whole days,
And when you left
I was bereft.
That was a week ago today
And although me and me dog
Don’t want to flog
A dead horse, on the way out you should’ve known
That you were driving over my precious drone.

Congratulations, Bruce! You are (once again!) the most terrible poet of the week!

I had a good four or five poems I considered for the winner. They used different terrible elements, though all included a terrible subject. Bruce rose to first for his continued, annoying rhyming of “guts/buts/guts/guts” and his mis-metering overall.

If you’re looking for more love and nostalgia (and have issues), here are the rest:

Transcripts Used by the Defense at the Trial

by Trent P. McDonald

Happy Anni, my dear
Let’s celebrate and have a beer!
I know you like fine wine
But tonight a Bud is fine
I’ll even pay the fine since double-“A” says “No!”
That’s one club I think I’ll blow
I’m not off the wagon, dear one
I just want a little Anniversary fun!
Yeah, I know keeping me straight is your mission
Maybe I’ll just sneak some booze when I’m out fishin’
Didn’t I tell you about it?
The guys rented a boat and seven of us will fit!
Yeah, it’s later I’m going to catch some fishes
And you can stay home and wash all the dishes
Since I invite the gang over for lunch
Hurry and cook something for my bunch!
What’d you mean I’m leaving my paddle as I go up the creek
Since we’ve been married just a week?
You should dance and sing a song
I’ve never committed to anything quite this long!
So happy Anni, my wife
And just think, this is how it will be the rest of your life!!

—–

Love Puppies

by The Abject Muse

And they said it wouldn’t last.

Some days went so fast!

But others went so slow

I wanted to slit my throat.

All in all as time goes by

with lots of other fish to fry

and as I end another fling

I wonder what the next six will bring.

Perhaps we’ll fall deeper in love,

with lots of help from Up Above.

Or perhaps like Charles Bukowski penned

“Love is a Dog from Hell,” (Amen).

—–

Anniversary

by Bryntin

there have been many mrs bryntins
I think you are the fifth
but you’re the one that’s lasted best
and didn’t run off with the blacksmith
like the last three did
what he lacks in wit
he makes up for with width
but they only really run off with him
because he rhymed with fifth

anyway

we have made it to ten years
which for me is new frontiers
and I know for you
it is also new
so how have we lasted so well?
I don’t know, I must be hell
to live with
but you are largely
the woman of my dreams
you make great tea
and bring it with custard creams

do you remember
when you made me propose?
and due to mitigating circumstance
like the pain for example
I said yes
and asked you to marry me?
can’t believe that ten years
has passed without too many tears
of frustration so well really

we go together
like fish and chips
you all crinkly
and me battered
like strawberries and cream
you fat and full of calories
me fruity but likely macerated
like punch and judy
which also doesn’t work out for me that well

so happy anniversary my love
I know you’ll be expecting a present
so…
what do you mean it’s not till next month?

bugger

—–

Anniversaries

by Deb Whittam

It was love at first sight.
I knew you were for me.
The moment I tugged you on.
My heart expanded and I ceased to be
Without fear, without heartache,
You were so perfect, I could not
Believe. That I had chosen you,
And you were there for me.
We went everywhere together,
Up hills, down hills, onto the dirt.
Round the corners. In the rain, the wind,
The hail, the sunshine, the darkness ….
You were such a right fit, I felt
Like I was floating away but now as we
Reach our 3 month anniversary
We have begun to drift apart.
Seams are fraying, your soul is growing
Hard, you have lost your bounce and I
Am losing mine. So perhaps we should
Part? I will remember you always,
As Adrenaline 22/11/2019 – 429km
Buy Runners. I will love you always.

—–

A gem of a marriage

by Geoff LePard

We married young and liked our fun
As do healthy boys and girls
We stayed quite flirty at year thirty
Romping on a bed of pearls.

We didn’t brag cos we were glad
To bounce around like newbies
We’d kept it naughty at year forty
So we deserved those rubies.

Time has passed, we can’t be arsed
And faking it’s not clever.
Still the wife’s still frisky at year sixty
So these diamonds are for Eva.

—–

Perce P Cassidy and the Sunblock Kid

by Doug Jacquier

60 years they been ridin’ together
only these days they ride by rail,
Perce’s face like Nebuchadnezzar,
The Kid a whiter shade of pale.

Despite all that Hollywood drivel
These two are indefatigable
Although The Kid has developed a dribble
And Perce has a ring that’s inflatable.

Just when The Kid thought he’d forgotten
Perce flourished a diamond ring
It’s origins of course misbegotten
But The Kid always loved the bling.

Now don’t go round town flashin’
that ring, old Perce he roughly croaks
Folks might get the wrong idea, Kid,
That we’re not pure manly blokes.

The Kid smiled and said he’d ne’er tell
And closer to Perce he did scootch
And whispered into his ear-like shell
‘Oh, Perce, you were always so Butch.’

—–

Anniversary

by Joanne the Geek

I want you to really know right now
This day I’m going to make you go wow
Surprise! It is our anniversary today
We’ve been together for one whole day!

I treasure every moment I’m with you
And I really hope you feel the same way too
I just love following you around
Even when you seem to go to ground

I just can’t wait when we dine tonight
With your skin looking lovely and white
I love it so much I’d wear it myself
Or possibly leave it dangling from a shelf

Anyways, this night I have a big surprise in store
It will probably make you drop your jaw!
I’m going to ask you to marry me
Because I think we are truly meant to be

So please say yes because I don’t know what I’d do
Without you, say no you’ll really end up in the poo

—–

Cheers

by Peregrine Arc

Annually I greet thee
Laying among the leaves scattered on the ground
It’s almost winter here now, you would have liked it.
Frost in window corners, school buses making their rounds.
It’s too bad you smacked your lips one too many times at the dinner table
And belched Beethoven’s 5th at every chance you had.
Maybe I could’ve overlooked that and the many other troubling manners you possessed.
If only you had faster reflexes than I when I sat behind the wheel…

Ah, well, ’tis life.
Ten feet to you under ground, I toast my wine glass to you above.
A delightful pig lies here, sending up a treadmarked, contented burp.
I picked Merlot this year.
From me to you, cheers. 🐖

—–

Little willie

by Ruth Scribbles

Little willie got married
He always felt harried
He said to his wife
Just stab me with a knife

Sixty years later
He said to his mater
Why did you marry me
You could have had Larry

—–

An Awful Anniversary Assembly.

by Ellen Best

Sixty years, well here’s to it, I raise a glass; into it, I spit.
Jerk my head to call him near, passed his glass feigned a cheer.
He swallowed with greed; saliva and all. I curl my lip; soon he’ll fall.

A drunk, a bully full of hate; tonight, they will see his colours
spread out on the dinner plate. I served tripe and jellied eels.
This food, both banal and grey; like him, had seen a better day.

I smile at those around my cloth. His cronies and the hangers-on
those that doff their cap, those that think him a super chap.
“Please sit” I cry. Having previously dressed his tripe
with little crushed garlic to disguise the arsenic’s taste.
It was with finality he gorged in ungentlemanly haste.

—–

Thank you all, so much! These were a great lift at the end of a busy day. Please check in tomorrow for next week’s prompt.

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Bruce: Here’s a badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2020 The poets, and their respective poems.