Founders Day

I guess I'm not really grown,
cause I still dream
of setting the Founders Day picnic on fire -
the bandstand burning,
apple pies charring,
Mason jars of Everclear bubbling, becoming

bottle rockets ready to fly
straight to the socket
of a mascaraed eye
I still wish to hell
I'd blacked
way back then.

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

God's Country

We grieve with casseroles and pies,
celebrate with parted thighs,
live between with Sooner pride and Cowboy up.

Saturday - might drink a few.
Sunday comes; we're in the pews.
From your outside point of view, you call us dumb.

But when Jesus comes      back again,
he'll grin and call it heaven.

For Kerry's Eye of the Beholder prompt at Real Toads

Cost

If I hadn't gone here and here and here,
I would have never been there or there or there.
How could I bear

such loss?

But because I went there and there and there,
I never got here or here or here.
It's clear

there's cost

everywhere.

My slightly off kilter take on Izy's prompt at Real Toads

Feelings

From the garden,
from the orchard,
from the little corner store;
a bag, a bag, and one bag more
to feed my feelings.

For my Christian sense of duty
that clings like a case of cooties
to a second graders hair -
a pear.  Of course, I'll share.

For my unrequited lust,
my lady parts that gather dust,
and the dreams that wreck my slumber -
a cucumber.  I wonder . . .

And finally for my friend,
my boon companion till the end;
for my Fear when nothing's scary -
a big raspberry!  Thbpttbbt!

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

Terrors

My terrors
are familiar
as a black cat on my lap

kneading me,
needing me,
claws unsheathed - that

is a love
that fits me
like a black with buckle hat

calling
to coven
to cairn.

A bit more Halloween for Poetry Pantry.