This poem is being written in stages to highlight the things I do toward frugal living. Waste not. Want not. Growing up; my daily life was filled with the saying, “waste not, want not.” When you’re young, what clue do you have in lives dot? As we grow; we learn, “money doesn’t grow on trees.”Continue reading “Waste not. Want not: chap stick”
Tag Archives: poetry
National Poetry Month
Move it Checks have been printed. Ready. To our client, a message of completion please send. Steady. Get those check flying out the door. To boost KY’s economy a little more.
The pursuit of happiness
Happy Are you happy? This is not a loaded question; crappy. Defined, the feeling of showing pleasure. This section we can measure. Contentment, what? Those aren’t the same thing. Nope! Let’s depart. Content and happy, they aren’t even relatable. What planet are you from? I want. I see. I need. Dumb! Try being happy whenContinue reading “The pursuit of happiness”
I’ll wait here
Waste not. Want not: sandwich bags
This poem is being written in stages to highlight the things I do toward frugal living. This is what I have written so far: Waste not. Want not. Growing up; my daily life was filled with the saying, “waste not, want not.” When you’re young, what clue do you have in lives dot? As weContinue reading “Waste not. Want not: sandwich bags”
I’m the fool
For a split second. A brief moment in time. I thought. I prayed your apology might be genuine. The call you made. This game will fade. Then I prayed, “God if this is real, lay it on my heart to deal.” But the need, desire isn’t there. Quite to the contraire. Then I get anContinue reading “I’m the fool”
Sick days
I went to the doctor, GP. This event was anything but free. With the introduction of covid, I had to see. This thing started out as a throat tickle. Now, I’m in quite the pickle. Dry hacking cough, turned into nasty wet cough. I know there wasn’t an elephant sitting on my chest. Maybe aContinue reading “Sick days”
Beyond the weirdness: kinda cool
My fault, really?
I don’t deal with emotional stuff well. Life has taught me not to dwell. Crap happens. Move on. Who cares if you got your feelings hurt? Be done. ‘Oh, you got your little feelings hurt?’ Overrated. Moot, overrated, antiquated. I hear you. Don’t care. You’re the one with the problem, do you dare? So IContinue reading “My fault, really?”
I’m done.
I’m done. Sending me will be fun. Will you alert someone that my digits have been printed? For there are bills to pay, I have been minted.
Poetry & More 