Waxing Poetic: Blame It On The Full Moon

Another year has passed us by, seemingly at double time for me,
But through it all, the only things that I did see,
Were the soles of my boots with big holes underneath,
From dragging my feet, attempting to slow those circles down.

Used to be the shoemaker could save me some cash,
By resoling the bottoms to once again dash.
But the cost at Wally Mart to buy a new pair,
Was cheaper than the price of the cobbler’s repair.

So I purchased myself some that were brand-spanking new,
Waterproof, insulated, and quite comfortable too.
Didn’t even have to break the boots in,
They feel so good, I’m wearing a big grin.

It doesn’t take much to make me happy,
Something simple like this can make me sappy,
By writing a rune that some might consider crappy,
Causing them to want to take a nappy (Zzz).

I decided to scribe this poem,
While sitting at home on Saturday night all alone,
It doesn’t require much effort to conjugate, so I’m told;
Please allow me to rant, if I may be so bold.

This is my weekly sacrifice to the gods of Internet blogs,
These verses have been slaughtered and should be thrown out to the dogs,
Instead of presenting them to my readers, whomever they may be,
I only know of a few who sometimes leave a comment for me.

But most of the time it seems these words of wit are written in vain,
The silence I hear is driving me insane,
But then, again, it is me behind the wheel,
It’s all my fault, so what’s the big deal?

I’m afraid like van Gogh, my fame will be found,
After my body is laying six feet in the ground,
And that’s a good reason for feeling so damned down,
And sitting here tonight with a big, fat frown.

Why am I saying always, “Woe is me”?
Is it for attention that I seek?
Nay, that’s a big waste of time, if I may be so bleak,
No one loves you when you’re down, so to speak.

Now it’s time to say goodbye to all our company,
M-I-C: See you real soon;
K-E-Y: Why? Because we like you;

As a postscript to the prior tirade, posted on January 4th, the Eagles ended their season last Sunday unfortunately, falling to Seattle. Yesterday felt more like spring than winter, with temps in the upper 60s/20C, making me look forward to baseball. Hopefully this will be the Phillies’ year to shine.

About Mike Slickster

As an early retiree with an honorary doctorate degree from the proverbial "School of Hard Knocks," this upcoming author with a lot of free time on his hands utilizes his expansive repertoire for humorous yet tragic, wildly creative writing that contains years of imaginative fantasy, pure nonsense, classic slapstick, extreme happiness and searing heartbreak; gathered by a wealth of personal experiences throughout his thrilling—sometimes mundane or unusually horrid—free-spirited, rock-'n'-roller-coaster ride around our beloved Planet Earth. Mike Slickster's illustrious quest continues, living now in Act Three of his present incarnation, quite a bit on the cutting edge of profundity and philosophical merriment as seen through his colorful characters, most notably evident in the amusing Thirty Days Across the Big Pond series, all of which can be found at Lulu.com.
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2 Responses to Waxing Poetic: Blame It On The Full Moon

  1. Jack says:

    Good going Mike as usual I learn something from your posts.

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