Cats
Clamber in laps
Convince you to nap
Crave things to unwrap
Cats
are good

On occasion of a cat deciding its agenda was more important than mine

Sitting and waiting
in electronic time

Digital tunes
ring out in space

Electrons vibrating
and nothing on my mind

Beachballs and hourglasses
hold me in my chair

If only I had more time.

On occasion of not working while working

My head follows
Where my feet care to venture
My mind wonders
Why that must be so

Have not we discovered
The path to serenity lies
In leading our feet
To places we know

They say it is better
If I am forewarned
And happiness comes
In embracing the flow

Avoiding the storm
That wracks the shores and the sea
Setting a course
Prescribe where we go

But as much as it pains us
The bedlam and discord
We do cherish the moment
Those smallest of victories will show

So look to to tomorrow
And hold dear to today
Let go past footsteps

And listen to what the winds
And waves
Have to say

On occasion of not being dissatisfied with my dissatisfaction

Beer.

It’s not wine, cold and clear
It’s beer.

It’s not coke, dark and frothy
It’s beer.

There’s no water, sweet and refreshing
There’s beer.

On days like this I hold it dear
Beer.

On occasion of needing a beer

Suddenly I realized
My breath was not
Synchronized

The rise and fall and in and out
Little to do
With wants did flout

No two no pair no pas de deux
Infernal turmoil
Argues anew

But such is the path that I employ
Conflict breeds
Such exquisite joy

On occasion of her complaining

Bunny poops
Like a bunny
Doesn’t say whoops
Thinks it’s funny

Hops along
Sneaking lettuce
Hums his song
Come and get us

Bunny poops
on our terrace
Snorts and giggles
He’s not embarrassed

Runs some more
Dodging mice
Nibbles ‘lions
And twitching twice

Ends the day
Curled on Mommy
No cares at all
Except, of course,
for his tummy.

On occasion of thinking Shel

I first thought
Hirsute.
But that was unfair
It was after all, just hair.

I saw her in a tangled
Space.
My gaze was riveted
On her shadowed face.

A razor glance
Creases.
I admired her lines
And coiffured graces.

But in the end the texture
Coarse.
The feel against my skin
Raw.
Rough.
I am too in love with skin.

My soul rises up
Leaves my mortal husk below
Checked in at FourSquare

A haiku on occasion of entering a contest on Whatever.scalzi.com

You know we like you… Right?

You know I like you… Right?

I like you.

Right.

If I was he
And in no way me

I would see my way
And own mastery

If I were them
In all their glory

I would sense my place
In failing destiny

But I am I
Quoth Sir Quixote

I can’t claim knowledge
Nor sense, nor foresee

I can only acknowledge
My own demise
My own fell mastery

On occasion of being petulant