Pedal or Coast?

HEAD DOODLING BACK

I have come to a place 

far from where I had been

a very long journey:  

there to here – 

and between

and although  

it has been 

a wild ride – even so,

there is something, I reckon  

I never will know . . . for

sometimes I pedaled; 

and sometimes I’d coast

but I still couldn’t tell you –

which one . . . I like most.


Note:

Sherry Blue Sky (STARDREAMING with Sherry Blue Sky) of Poets United - A Community for Poets who Blog -  recently interviewed me for the Blog of the Week feature and that interview appears today at Poets United - Blog of the Week ~ Wendy Bourke.  Thanks for this, Sherry. 

photos:  Stanley Park Walk and Bike Path by the Marina – W. Bourke
W. Bourke - M.S. Bourke

© 2013 Wendy Bourke

"Thanks for the Heads Up."

HEAD DOODLING BACK

as he went to step down from the ladder,
the rung gave way under his foot  –
he tried to climb back up the ladder,
but the ladder just wouldn`t stay put  –
it started to slowly lurch backwards,
so he grabbed at the wide window ledge  –
which made the blamed thing start to wobble ...
and he managed to just miss the edge  –
he seized the old weather-worn shutter,
and tore off a chuck of the trim  –
he dropped and bounced out of an oak tree,
attempting to straddle a limb  –
he lunged for the thorny rose trellis  –
and as he was flipping through air ...
somebody yelled out the window:

"That ladder's in need of repair."

note:  a bit of silliness posted for Poets United:  though, for many years - with 4 teenage kids coming and going -   "Thanks for the Heads Up" could often be heard, sarcastically delivered on the heels of "Oh, I forgot to tell you ...".

Light poetry has a centuries long history of making a serious point in a subtle (usually amusing), less disrespectful or insulting way.  Pinned (often somewhat surreptitiously) to much larger "real" situations, light poetry was a means of bringing "off-limits" subject matter  into the public consciousness.  For that reason (and the fact that I love rhyme, done well) I like to have a go at it every once in a while - though I know its popularity has greatly diminished.  Smiles.

photo/graphic:  ``Thanks for the Heads Up.`` - W. Bourke

© 2013 Wendy Bourke

magic mall lady

almost immediately, I concluded 

she was a storybook character 

who had wandered from

the pages of a wonderful fat tome – 

(or perhaps, she was cast out 

by a dastardly sorcerer)

for though, at first glance, 

she looked as humdrum 

as the rest of the tuesday 

afternoon aging mallsters, 

she wore highly mysterious

– likely magical – little red boots that 

(when she clicked them together)
would dance all through the town

(or so those boots implied)

but, for now, she sat down 

quietly – shyly, even – 

on the mall bench beside me

naturally, I couldn't take my eyes  

off of those little red boots –

as my mind began 

flipping and thumbing 

madly through rhymes: 

searching for boots – little red boots – 

(in those far away lines)

and a broom – a twig broom 

strong enough to hop on 

and fly . . . . . .

loop-the looping

through the sky

backwards through the sky 

and then . . . . . . 

and then . . . . . .

when, after a while, 

she stood up to leave – 

she flashed a smile 

like a bolt of pink petunias . . . . . .

and was gone. 

note:  posted for Poets United.

photo:  Pink Petunias - W. Bourke 

© 2015 Wendy Bourke

Pink Tulips

HEAD DOODLING BACK

He had left

pink tulips 

nonchalantly perched 

near the still steaming coffee pot.

(sentimental – but not gushy)

And they greeted me 

in gobsmacked giggles.

(apparently, they were in on the joke)

Then I noticed: 

he had sliced a cinnamon bagel in two 

and placed each half in the toaster, 

ready to go.

I smiled – out loud – 

and whispered:  Flirt!

  

photo:  Pink Tulips – W. Bourke

  

© 2013 W. Bourke