Hold Your Hankering Horses

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Hold your hankering horses
You know you really must
A little patience is so important
Or else you’ll surely bust

Hold your hankering horses
And quit being so demanding
Don’t you know life is always better
With a little bit of understanding?

Hold your hankering horses
Your antsy attitude needs to go
People don’t like impatience
This is something you ought to know

Hold your hankering horses
Just sit still and listen to me now
I’m explaining your main issue
And if you want to fix it, this is how

Hold your hankering horses
Get a grip and don’t wind up in a tizzy
I’m sorry to say that your behavior
Is only making the rest of us dizzy

Hold your hankering horses
This is the last thing I’m going to say
If you can’t calm down and be patient
Then please just go away

© 2019 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  Hold your hankering horses

 

Caught in confusion

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There’s a message
Within the song
I recognize its face
All day long

But I can’t understand
Why it’s there
It seems to have caught me
Unaware

Somewhere a lesson
Will likely be had
Slapping my wrists
Reminding me I’m bad

Until then
I’ll wrestle with confusion
Which a few I know
Will find quite amusin

And in the end
I’ll be back in that room
Breathing in more
Of that cheap perfume

For that’s what this life
Has become
May just guzzle it down
With a bottle of rum

© 2018 Michelle Cook


*Written ages ago and I don’t even remember what I was thinking about at the time.  Just cleaning out the notes section on my phone.  😉  So beware, I’ve got over 200 more notes to look through, and I’m guessing there may be more of these weird ones to come.  😉

An indecisive tale

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Peering out from the dark cavern
A brilliant light shone from the other side of the lake
Her intuition told her to be cautious
And yet her curiosity was more than she could take

The light flickered in luminescent waves
Dancing across the water’s edge
Captivating her inquisitive mind
She didn’t hesitate to forgo her pledge

So off she went to explore the island
Lured by the radiance of such an unusual sight
And as her boat landed on the southern shore
Her senses began filling her with fright

Savage beasts appeared to be dancing
Amongst the glow of flaming embers
And she watched as screaming prisoners
Were all mercilessly dismembered

Before long she was spotted on the shore
And those barbarians sought her without delay
A prize she certainly was
A sitting duck on carnivorous display

And though she tried her best to escape
The cannibals were far too many
They looked at her as a gift from the gods
As if she were a lovely bright shiny penny

It seemed she was far too beautiful to kill
So instead the chief made her his wife
And now she lives in the lap of luxury
Resigned to eating people with a fork and knife

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  A brilliant light shined from the other side of the lake.

 

The cobweb cloaked coven

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Pearl was a pistol
Janezza was a jerk
Glenda was a grumpy ol’ git
Who drove everyone berserk

Nilda was the nice one
But Irma drove her insane
And because of Henrietta’s hexes
Neither one now has a brain

Daniella was a devil
And yet she was always liked the best
But mostly only by male devils
Who liked staring at her chest

Wanda was the youngest witch
She’d bring warlocks home each day
But because of her venereal diseases
She could never get any of them to stay

Tilly was the tallest
Until Shirley shot right past
Now they’re both so old they’re shrinking
And wondering how life went by so fast

Lastly there was Lily
The prettiest witch of all
Until one day her wand exploded
Causing bits of her to be strewn across the wall

The cobweb cloaked coven has since retired
Put up their brooms and stored away their wands
And if you ever want to find them
You’ll have to go looking beyond the beyond

But be careful if you go there
For those old biddies they aren’t so sweet
And if you visit them for Halloween
You may just get a trick instead of a treat

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here; The cobweb cloaked coven

Sick

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Buried beneath
Your featherbed cover
Feeling so bad
You hope that you’ll smother

Everything aches
You can’t lift your head
You pray for relief
But just wish you were dead

Slinking to the bath
Nothing matters anymore
As you lay there vomiting
On that cold tile floor

You could easily perish
And you’d be thrilled
For it would end what feels
Like your head being drilled

With your eyes bugging out
You pray for mercy
But none of your friends
Offer murder as a courtesy

And you curse their names
For not offering a way out
While your body heaves
And purges another bout

And you decide if you make it
You’ll never speak to them again
Good thing for everyone
Death takes you in the end

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Wilting efforts

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If success is only measured
By man’s own heart
Than what the hell have we been doing
From the very start

We live each day
Trying so hard to get ahead
And with all this mindless shuffling
It’s a wonder we aren’t dead

We scurry and worry
Then we sigh and we cry
While all along never realizing
We’re really just living a lie

Because this isn’t actually living
It’s not about what we’ve done
At the end of the day
We aren’t even having any fun

Instead we’re torturing ourselves
Frustrated by our lack of gain
Each day is just a wilting effort
Driving all of us insane

We’ll never accomplish everything
And never be all we’d like to be
It shouldn’t take our entire lives
For us to finally see

We’ve got to stop measuring our happiness
By the world’s standard views
And take on the dauntless challenge
Of living a life of a whole new hue

Daring to risk it all
Our regular lives might come with a cost
And yet without even trying to change
We forget we’ve already lost

© 2018 Michelle Cook

*This is what my brain produces at 3 am when I can’t sleep.  Lol… Have a great day everyone!  😉  ~M


Writing prompt:  Wilting efforts

Buckets of Wishes

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Scattered haphazardly
Filling the great expanse
Lies infinite buckets of wishes
Created carefully in advance

Each one brims to overflowing
Radiating iridescent dreams
And pools of liquid star dust
Gush out between the seams

These shimmering streams of magic
Mesmerizingly cascade
Throughout the mighty caverns
Searching for crevices to invade

It’s a curious sight to observe
A spectacle most will never behold
And some believe it a mere fabrication
Because they trust what they’ve always been told

After witnessing such an extraordinary scene
And watching moonbeams slosh upon the floor
I can honestly tell you without a doubt
This bizarre place really isn’t folklore

So I invite you to come and take a glimpse
Into this world of whimsy and fun
Come fly with me to the moon and back
The merriment just can’t be outdone!

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Almost there…

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I’m at the very brink of rhetoric and rhyme
And I can almost taste each and every delicious word

These savory and sensational tidbits
Have begun to form on the furthermost tip of my tongue

The texture and flavor of each specific thought
Bursts forth with vitality from my baffled brain

Tickling and teasing the remainder of my senses
As words spew spontaneously and sporadically

Each notion captured in a technological realm of space
Where perceptions and ideas flood the world

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Warty

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Warty was her loathsome name
And magic was her very best game
She put other witches to awful shame
With her unrivaled and eagle-eyed aim
She seemed a fairly normal witchy dame
Except for her keen ability to maim
Which was actually sort of depressing and lame
As she could inflict the worst ever pain
And after a single swish and flick of her cane
It was horrendous what some people often became
The majority were certainly never the same
Since her barrage of enchantments left most insane

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Witchy warts

Popsicle periscopes and other strange things…

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Popsicle periscopes
And other strange things
All seem to spurt out
Whenever she sings

So run for your lives
As the next thing could be
A rhinoceros tumbling
Right onto your knee

Or perhaps she’ll sneeze
That’s sometimes even worse
Oh the things that come out
You might just curse

She seems to be okay
Whenever she stays quiet
But when she coughs
She often starts a riot

Her shouts can get nasty
Things often burst out
Right from her insides
Which make people shout

The worst thing I’ve seen
Is an elephant with a tuba
She just spewed it right out
As she sang a song about Cuba

So don’t get too close
If she begins to make a sound
You’ll likely be squashed
By whatever hits the ground

 

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Popsicle periscopes

 

Testimony of a peeping alien named Tom

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It appeared to be liquid love
Consisting of a mercurial matter
Which then showered across her chest
This curious essence completely splattered

She was then drenched in translucent passion
From his apparent spasmodic contraction
And this all seemed to be the consequence
Of some unknown gravitational reaction

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Liquid love

Rubbish

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Writing through writer’s block… Take #347 😉

It’s a bright sunny day
Hardly a cloud in the sky
And yet I’m at a loss for words
And I don’t really know why

There’s plenty of things
I’m sure I could write about
Instead I just sit here
With such rubbish coming out

Many people have told me
To give it a rest
Some say it’s simply
Just a meaningful test

But without determination
How can I ever overcome
Isn’t this the best way
To get out of my slum

This poor keyboard
Has seen better days
And she’s begging me to stop
This foolhardy craze

And yet I’m determined to write
If it’s the last thing I do
Sorry if you’ve gotta suffer with me
Though all of this too

© 2018 Michelle Cook

The Crazies

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The Crazies as it’s defined
Is a neighborhood of all kinds
Here is some of what you’ll find…

A pastor
Who is always scheming
A polygamist
Who is usually beaming
A newlywed couple
Who are active and fit
A snobby white guy
Who acts like a twit
A homeschooling mother
Who hides in her house
A serial killer
Who is quiet as a mouse
A traveling duo
Who live the good life
An old geezer
Who has no wife
A preppy family
With a dog named bogey
An obsessive control freak
Who is always smoking a stogie
A hoity-toity couple
Who spoil their dog
An ordinary girl
Who likes to write stories and blog
And last but not least
Let’s not forget the seniors
Or the girls that lay in the grass
We call them dreamers
All of these people
Can be found on our street
So come visit sometime
I’ll save you a seat!

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Originally written, 2015