Drink and be merry,
Happy Hour starts at five sharp,
Or any time today.
From draft to craft beer,
Whiskies, daiquiris, coolers,
Liqueurs, wines, and more
Thirst quenchers galore,
Choose your poison, fill ‘er up,
Slurp until you burp.
poem
Make My Monday
Image: Pixabay
I’ll make my bed
I’ll make my breakfast
I’ll even make it out the door
But, make my Monday.
The first day of the week
Makes me feel weak
Thinking of it makes me ill
More so than paying a bill.
I’ll crawl back to bed
I’ll forget breakfast
I’ll lock the door.
Make my Monday.
Leave
I couldn’t believe
He told me to leave;
This nice gnome
From his cozy home.
Me, his roommate
Since 2008.
Why the boot?
I’m just an old coot?
My space is a hole
Not even much for a vole
I’m a plain pushover,
I only eat your leftover.
I will admit
For longer than a bit,
I’ve been filling up your studio
I never thought I’d outgrow
But why couldn’t you be a diplomat,
And not simply call me a FAT RAT?
Layered French Onion Soupwich
French onion soup base
Topped with melted cheese on bread
Capped with ‘shrooms and squash.
NYC
Tasty big apple
Chomp, romp, stomp all day and night
A buffet of life
Times Square, the High Line,
Central Park, Harlem, Soho,
Destinations all
Each place is unique
Many adventures to plan
See which clicks with you.
Uncontrollable
Image: Pixabay
Guerilla tactics
With the same dynamics,
Out of control,
They’re on a killing roll,
One after the other,
This is truly war.
They’re desperadoes
Showing they won’t be cowed,
Displaying their bravados
By ramming through a crowd
Of innocents,
Forcing their dissonance.
Time to shed the politics
Register both citizens and aliens
To identify ISIS and other lunatics.
Weed out the barbarians
To stop this downward spiral.
This is now a matter of survival.
[In reference to the Bastille Day truck massacre in southern France today.]
Salad Bar Biopsy
Image: Pixabay
Popular option
For weight, taste, and health reasons.
Carrots, berries, squash,
A plethora of choices
With a film of spit and slime.
Toy Cemetery
Frayed,
Tattered,
Faded,
Gutted,
Once glorious and shiny,
Bouncy and fun,
Now all pounced on and flattened.
Some pieces missing,
No longer enjoyed,
At the bottom of the pile
In a tomb known as a toy chest,
Where they linger
Until the next spring cleaning.
Image: Pixabay
Fourth of July
O, America
A cause for celebration
Land of liberty.
Faithless
Image: Pixabay
Suicide bombing
A manipulated act
Brainwashed by cowards.
Nothing more but waste
A blight to humanity
They’re the true zombies.
Soulless, purposeless
Vessels for Satan’s bidding
Nothing more, nothing.
Karina Pinella 
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