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Phyllis Moorman

~ Author and Artist

Category Archives: Humor

Some Fifty Years Ago

22 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

friends, history, humor, life, poem, Poetry, shopping, stores

We’d sit on stools and spin ’round,
then face the drugstore counter
as we waited for our orders
from the high school fountain girl.

A strawberry shake for Susan,
for the boys, root beer floats;
and I’d take a hot fudge sundae,
with real ice cream scooped beneath.

I shopped the store’s two aisles
for toiletries and trinkets, then
when Tom brought my prescription,
we’d talk family and friends.

Today, the concept’s expanded
to big box, superstores,
giving buyers what they want
is what they’re going for.

You can buy tonight’s supper,
and Billy’s new school shoes;
Why, they’ll even change your tires
while you’re shopping other things.

Now if your order is small, and
you’d rather not stand and wait,
you can check yourself out;
a curt, electronic voice will
prompt you what to do and
announce whatever you scan:

“Red, delicious apples,
Two dollars; fifty cents savings;
Select your form of payment
on the pen pad found below.”

While this fancy automation
may be a quicker way to shop,
it can’t possibly replace

the voice behind the counter,
someone you’d known forever,
someone who truly cared…

some fifty years ago.

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A Dry Spell

30 Thursday Oct 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

bones, Halloween, humor, poems, Poetry, writer's block, writing

skeleton with chin on hand

Chin resting upon my hand,
fingers drumming the table,
I stare into space,
waiting for my head to clear,
for the writer’s block to disappear.

But I’m starting to fear
that I waited too long,
for my dry spell is broken
by a haunting melody echoing
through my empty head,

Dem Dry Bones is all I can hear!

***********

Dem Dry Bones is a song in which bones are connected and disconnected through the verses.

 

 

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at the bottom

20 Monday Oct 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

humor, life, poems, Poetry, Victoria's Secret

they always seem to be at the bottom:
the car keys in my purse,
the desired shirt (sigh) in the hamper,
my size in the Victoria’s Secret’s sales bin–
yet, they’re my deepest treasures!

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Served with Complements

18 Saturday Oct 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

humor, Poetry, writing

Ignited by passion,
words fuel the fire
simmering in my mind
until, like popcorn, they
explode into verse.

The reader may not know
the color of the original kernel,
how my fire changed it, or
how much seasoning it took.

They probably don’t even care
if I made a cinquan or rondeau,
or if it’s full of iambs or spondees.

But, like all chefs, I hone my knife,
tenderly slice into the finished dish
and serve it with my complements.

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My Superhero

17 Friday Oct 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Inspiration, Life, Love

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

hero, humor, inspiration, life, love, poems, Poetry

Some soar toward a target, their
red or black cape catching the wind
as they zoom in to battle.
Some defend with swords
and light sabers, dueling until
their enemy concedes defeat.

For others, it’s more subtle,
like an EMT attending to
a heart attack victim, or
the fabled Robin Hood,
equalizing the haves and have-nots.

But for me, it was when you
rescued me from myself and
offered me a part of your world.
That’s when I knew you were my
Superhero, someone I could
count on for the rest of my life.

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Fall’s a Mystery

12 Sunday Oct 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life, Nature, Seasonal, Weather

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

fall, humor, life, Nature, seasons, weather, Winter

Fall’s a Mystery
(Or I’ve Been Watching
Too Much Crime TV)

Weathervane night
Blustery winds bring seasonal mysteries, like
why once supple flowers turn crispy and still,
why leaves lose color and fall dead away,
why summer’s loud bugs turn eerily quiet,
and why some people fade when the sun disappears.

If I were a detective, I’d capture the flowers
and confine them indoors for, say, 90 days,
after which, if warm, they’d be returned outdoors.

I’d turn the leaves over to the homicide folks
and hope an autopsy could reveal why
once green and pliant, they’re now crunchy and brown;

I’d send my partner on a seasonal stakeout
along with a sensitized listening device
to determine if crickets have Winter sounds;

And for the people, if they’d consider a change,
I’d see them moved to a sunnier place,
and as their sponsor, of course I’d move, too.

Happy Fall!

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Changing of the Seasons

05 Sunday Oct 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Nature, Seasonal, Weather

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

humor, Nature, rearrange, seasonal, weather, women

Seasons change,
it’s nature’s way,
of helping things
to rearrange.

And that is why,
(And I’m sure it’s true)
that women control
the house and skies;

For who else
have you ever known
to rearrange things
that often. I’ll confess,

I’m a woman,
been rearranging rooms
like clockwork,
but that shouldn’t

shock you, as my mother,
and hers before her,
moved furniture
this way and ‘tother.

And I’m sure
if they’d had their way,
seasonal changes would be
ten times a year.

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Multiplier Effect, Re-explained

17 Thursday Jul 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Family, Humor, Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

children, family, grandma, grandpa, humor, life

  Small boy
+Grandma for 8 hours
  Small boy who is soft-spoken, sits and plays

  Small boy
+Grandpa for 15 minutes
  Small boy turns up volume, boisterously playful

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What goes up, must come down…

12 Saturday Jul 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Family, Health, Humor, Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

family, health, humor, life, poems, Poetry

image

What goes up, must come down…

Balls,
Balloons,
Teeter totters,
Skydivers,
High tide,
My weight.

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Housewarming Gift Ideas

28 Saturday Jun 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

gifts, humor, life, moving, poems, Poetry

image

Excitement of a new home dwarfed by
wobbly knees,
tired, crooked back,
dangling, strained arms.
Sound familiar?

If anybody’s listening, I’d like
to suggest any housewarming gift
be held to things that don’t need
assembled, put on display or hung.

Just slip a gift certificate to a
nearby masseuse inside an envelope
with sincere wishes for a speedy recovery…
And did I mention I like chocolate and wine?

Sincerely yours,

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Never a Free Ride

27 Friday Jun 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Animals and Insects, Humor, Life, Nature, Philosophy

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Tags

animals, birds, free ride, humor, inspiration, oxpecker, philosophy, poems, Poetry, rhino, rhinoceros

Oxpecker on rhinoceros

Beautiful little oxpecker
atop the rhinoceros;

why doesn’t Rhino protest
as you perch upon his back?

Do you tickle his fancy as
you clean bugs from off his skin;

Or are free meals and transportation,
reward for screeching warnings
about dangers far and near?

No matter the rhyme or reason
for your symbiotic life,

You bear homage to the adage,
“There are no free rides anywhere.”

Photo: Red billed oxpeckers (Buphagus erythrorhynchus) on rhino.Sabi Sands, South Africa. Photo by Lee R. Berger. Attribution: Profberger at en.wikipedia

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A Bone to Pick

25 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Animals and Insects, Family, Humor, Life, Nature

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Tags

dogs, family, humor, life, Nature, poems, Poetry

Mama sat outside and watched,
not saying a word, as
her dogs fought over a toy bone.

She saw Rover snarl and
Tiny retreat, then watched
Rover and bone disappear.

Mama patiently waited
for Rover to come back,
then threw him a ball to chase.

As if King of the mountain,
he ran for the ball,
unaware of the closing door.​

After a while, he became
bored with himself and
turned to find his old “friend.”

But as you might surmise,
Tiny wasn’t outside, but
within the comfortable house.

Through the patio door,
Rover could clearly see a
real bone in Tiny’s mouth.

Now, it seems clear to me that
   a bone to pick should be
   chosen most carefully.

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War on Recession

20 Friday Jun 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life

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Tags

aging, humor, life, poems, Poetry, recession

I’ve declared war on recession;
It’s just gotten too personal for me.

My hairline continues to shrink
While my waistline continues to grow.
There’ll never be any equity there!

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Dichotomy of Summer

18 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life, Seasonal, Weather

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Tags

dichotomy, humor, life, poems, Poetry, seasonal, summer, weather

Languished complaint of hot body
on a sultry summer afternoon;
followed by
teeth-chattering complaint of cold shivers
after a cooling dunk in the pool.

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Quenching My Thirst for Metaphors

10 Tuesday Jun 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Family, Humor, Life, Writing

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Tags

college, education, family, humor, language, life, metaphors, poems, Poetry, words, writing

Mama used to say,
“Stop beating around the bush,
Just spit it out.”

But my poetry teacher says,
“Don’t tell us, show us;
Use metaphors.”

Well, I’d really like to comply
so with this story I’ll give it a try…

Little Johnny wanted to drink
but not from the kitchen sink.

So, after bidding his mother farewell,
he headed toward the new-fangled well.

Having heard it dug vast and deeper,
he borrowed Mom’s long-handed dipper.

Holding steadfast, he repeatedly dipped it,
quenched by words and concepts he scripted.

Four years of drinking up knowledge,
earned him a degree from this well-known college.

His mama, having known where he’d been,
wished us to celebrate with her and with him:

Come celebrate, we’re proud as can be—
our own Johnny, a college degree!
—————————————————————–

Now if you ask me,
I think mama was right,
No need to beat around the bush,
Just spit it out.

“Johnny graduated college.
Party tonight.”

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Shopping by the Mile

29 Thursday May 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Family, Humor, Life, Thoughtful Thursday

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

family, humor, life, shopping, thoughtful thursday

Thoughtful Thursday

The most expensive vehicle to operate by the mile is the shopping cart.

Shopping cart

From Reminisce magazine, August-September 2010, pg 44

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Clothes

27 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

clothes, humor, laundry, life, poems, Poetry

20140527-204618-74778289.jpg
Hampered,
they seem abundant;
closeted,
they seem few.

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Missing You

23 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Animals and Insects, Family, Humor, Life, Love

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Tags

animals, companions, dogs, family, humor, life, longing, love, poems, Poetry

Staring pensively,
I keep watching
for you to come home.
I can’t remember how long
you’ve been gone,
but I miss you so.

I’m sure sitting listlessly
won’t bring you back
any sooner, but
I just can’t seem to focus
on anything but you.

We have such fun
when we’re together,
and I get so lonely
when you’re not here.

May wishing you here,
make it so.

Lovingly,

Fido

20140422-204153.jpg

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Modern Day Spring Cleaning

07 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life, Seasonal

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

electronics, humor, life, poems, Poetry, seasonal, spring, technology

Hours I used to spend cleaning
bed springs,
closets, attics and such,

I now spend updating, syncing,
adding, deleting…
all with but a single touch,

Whereas I used to battle heavy lifting,
now I merely sit,
I don’t move my body much,

just a finger tapping, instructing
the electronic gadget
to change or scrub the stuff.

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Facebooking It

02 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Life

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

caring, Facebook, friends, humor, life, poems, Poetry

Posting on Facebook is not for the faint of heart,
viewers judging your images and your posts.
Hoping they look better or appear more smart,
friends post things about which they can boast.
They select only photos where they look their best;
it’s as if they’re entering a beauty contest.

They vacation in the most exotic places,
(or perhaps they merely photoshopped it).
Their children always have the cutest faces,
with accompanying comments so full of wit.

But you know, I’m just as hooked as the next guy
as I daily check in to see what they’re doing.
It’s not like I’m counterintelligence or a spy,
I’ve come to care about them and how they’re doing.

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To Receive is To Give

31 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Children, Family, Humor, Life, Love, Nature

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

children, family, flowers, humor, life, love, Nature, poems, Poetry

His small hand
tightly clutches the present,
the one he picked himself.

So full of pride is he
as he hands me
a golden yellow cluster
of petite petals dangling
from its spindly stem.

“I picked a flower,
‘specially for you.”

Carefully, I take the
delicate gift and
find a mini vase
to showcase its beauty.

“Oh, thank you, honey.
I love it!”

I don’t have the heart to
tell him I’m allergic to
dandelions!

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Jingling Innocence

24 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Children, Humor, Life

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Tags

children, humor, life, poems, Poetry

20140324-215654.jpg

Cinderella kissed her fellow,
Georgie Porgie kissed girls,
yet virtue was not in question
as we spoke these little rhymes.

We weren’t exposed to TV;
theaters were all PG.
Our innocence was real;
we knew not otherwise.

So these silly jump rope jingles
were just words upon our ears;
simply rhyming ditties that
kept us occupied.

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Bird Talk

22 Saturday Mar 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Animals and Insects, Humor, Nature

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

birds, language, Nature, poems, Poetry, talk

20140322-212100.jpg

Tweets and twitters,
Chittering chatter.
What must they be saying,
and to whom do they speak?

Do robins understand sparrows?
Do doves and owls converse?
Do you think they speak languages
geographically unique?

If a sparrow from down south
would move to the northern shore,
do you think the Southern sparrow
would have an accent and say y’all?

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Cheap Medicine

20 Thursday Mar 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Inspiration, Thoughtful Thursday

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

humor, inspiration, thoughtful thursday

20140320-205941.jpg
Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.

Lord Byron

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Happy St. Patrick’s Day

17 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by P Moorman in Humor, Seasonal

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

green, humor, luck, poems, Poetry, seasonal, St. Patrick's Day

20140317-205437.jpg

The wearing of the green, they say,
on this, St. Patrick’s Day,
should bring a spot of luck to those
with green about their clothes.

My shirt has many shamrocks,
same color are my socks;
but, if you can’t see these greens,
just look for emerald jeans!

If you think I’ve overdone it–
perhaps, well just a bit;

though not born a bit ‘o Irish,
I think if I’m more greenish,
my chances should be greater
of having good luck later.

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