3 Poems of HumorA Poem by Gedalya^ From Autumn 2013.Token: I watch as my father’s weary eyes begin to bleed. Tremors set upon his hands; his fingers curl within; His mouth opens, “That foul fiend of hell has planted a seed!” “Where father. . ?” I ask, for I know he speaks of the beast. He covers his eyes and shakes; his mouth twists to a grin. In agony, “It shall arise from the waters of the East!” “Tell me more!” I scream, excited and yet terrified. His olive skin tightens now; his breath wreaks of aged gin. Laughing mad, “Imbecile! Can you not see that I have lied?” “No father!” ashamed, for this is not the only time. Slapping his knees, revealing the ketchup bottle; “Watch the news!“, We’ve just struck new oil! Aint that a lime?!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I will never blink: - Paralyzer, Paralyzer! Why do you stare? Can you not see. . . that I can no longer bare, That most petrifying. . . and disturbing glare?!” - Paralyzer, Paralyzer! if you don’t mind. . . Can you not see. . . that an answer, I must find? “You poor fool! I cannot see. . . For I am blind!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ In Cajun Country: A Latino man stands alone, beside of a dark bayou And clutched in his hands: Purest white powder sealed in black balloon. A French man comes and says: “Tengo Hambre, senor. . .” The Latino says no ‘¡hola!‘ and he bids no ‘adieu‘. He hands him the bag: “Here’s a remedy . . . for needle and spoon.” The French man nods and says: “Gracias, Au revoir. . .” © 2014 GedalyaAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorGedalyaVAAboutI am a Professional Writer dipping my feet into the Indie world. This is my second account after a 2-year absence. I am very open & honest, but equally private. I'd like to see a new generation of wri.. more..Writing
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