Tag Archives: just for fun

Death by Orchestra

Posted on 12 July 2024 | Leave a comment 
The strings were the most innocuous things,
Certain I was that no harm they would bring.
The mallets soft on timpani have bark,
But bite requires they miss their mark.
Horn may signal the hunt, but here it sings.
Trumpet's clarion call? Heralds a king.
Piccolo or flute? Shrill but a mere lark.
Clarinet, mellow trumpet, contrast stark.
Bassoon, formidable branch, trouble yet?
Double reed; not even on a long bet.
Trombones three, start with t, long, low, slide punch?
Let's talk over brunch if that was your hunch.
So come again to innocuous strings.
Viola turns, makes the bell for me ring.

Copyright ©️ 2024 H.K. Longmore

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The Moth and the Post-Workout Shower

Posted on 24 June 2024 | Leave a comment 
Laundry room: sweaty clothes deposited.
Bathroom: bathtub water set not too hot.
Bathtub: shower stop up, cold posited,
Stand back, let that flow pass me by, I wot.
Under shower: water warmed, start the soak.
Tile wall: crawling upward, a smallish moth.
Amygdala: spray it off, spray the bloke!
Basal ganglia: let live, be not wroth.
Under shower: turn my back and lather.
Cortex prefrontal: rinsing fixation.
Window sill tile lip: condensation.
ADD: watch drip lip-water gathered.
Tile wall: moth takeoff, on silence bent.
Water drips: direct hit! Down with intent.

Copyright ©️ 2024 H.K. Longmore

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Seven Year Pursuit

Posted on 17 February 2015 | Leave a comment

She sees him below,
The one she desires.
She finds he inspires
As her heart closer grows.

He doesn’t know
It has taken a year—
But it is now clear,
She desires to be friend, not foe.

Year by year she closer comes,
In seven, she perceives,
Her goal she’ll achieve.
With delight she softly hums.

Six have passed,
She draws nigh,
And lets out a sigh;
Leans in to be kissed.

Excited for gifts next year will bestow—
She’ll have him aye, by and by.
In anticipation she finds the right tie;
She’ll decorate herself with matching bow.

But the cycle is done,
Her goal upheaved.
‘Twas quite naive;
Still, her heart is numb:

To Aphrodite Cupid will confide
That Valentine’s will have to abide:
The day for George and Abe set aside
Will never with her coincide.

©2015 H.K. Longmore

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My Captor

Posted on 13 February 2015 | Leave a comment

There’s a song playing so softly
It must be coming from far away.
But it’s coming closer, getting louder.
I can neither draw nearer nor flee.

I am a captive; I am not free.
There is no iron filled with gun powder,
Nor chain about my neck that makes me stay.
The song continues, on the air wafting.

Louder, nearer, then stopping; a new song
Plays, and with increase is the volume changed.
Out of fear I want to escape;
Fear the approaching song will tear me from my dreams.

So loud, so close I want to scream.
I push off the cloth with which I am draped.
I face the captor who has me chained,
And break free to prove I am strong.

I leave my captor behind,
Covered in fluffy cotton and goose down.

©2015 H.K. Longmore

Give people high fives just for getting out of bed. Being a person is hard sometimes.

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