NCiR’ Pilin’ On

And I love it!

Image for post
Image for post
Photo by Todd Quackenbush on Unsplash

The days approaching Christmas
get tougher every year.
The drives I take down to the lake
to see if you’ll appear.

I’d hoped that you were in it
when they pulled up the car.
Was sure you died, but questioned, “Why’d
you take my new Jaguar?”

I loved you called me Eddie,
Endearing, but I’m Sam.
You prob’ly knew — forgot yours too,
that’s why I called you ma’am.

I can’t believe you left me
o’er dalliances coquettish.
I loved your warm beguiling form,
the others, my cold fetish.

You know those girls I bedded?
Lost souls seduced with ease.
Arrived bereft, they never left,
I keep them in the freeze. …

Chalkboard Prompt for January 7, 2021

Image for post
Image for post
Image Source

Yesterday’s now history,
when we thought we were immune.
Last week wondering, “what was it like,”
before it entered our cocoon.
History is happening,
must engage — it’s not too soon!

©2021 HHThorpe. All rights reserved.

Your Turn

THEME: History

Share your own one-line poem (30 words or less) on the theme as a response to this post, or write a stand-alone piece if you prefer. Tag your piece ‘One Line’ or if it’s 15 words or less, ‘Chalkboard Espresso’. If you have a stand-alone poem, be sure to leave a link in the response section below.

As always, thanks to our hosts, Kathy Jacobs and me (🙃), and the rest of the talented Chalkboard team!

NCiR’ Pilin” On

Tagging-on to Wendy Scott’s fun poem, “The Birth of Baby Becky

Image for post
Image for post
Photo by Dragos Gontariu on Unsplash

Our second son, a gorgeous guy,
my role was in conception.
It wasn’t me who carried him,
my wife’s job from inception.

We waited patiently— nine months,
morning labor pains were tame.
I said, “It’s time?” She said, “Not yet.”
So I finished my golf game.

I returned in the mid afternoon,
after shortened happy hour.
She greeted me with “it’s time” face.
“Be right with you. Got to shower.”

Fast forward to the hospital,
I was coaching “pant-pant-blow.”
A World Series playoff on TV,
home team headed for the show.

I could always multiprocess well,
Came in handy on this night.
I’m “Pant-pant-blow —it’s a hit, they won!” …

An electrical spectacle

Image for post
Image for post
Image Credit

Dennett said write about my own guilty pleasures.
I assume feeling guilt is one of the measures
that must be satisfied — like sneaking a twinkie.
My first idea crashed when she said nothing kinky.

Perhaps she was worried my piece would be rude,
but if kinky means sex, there is still swimming nude.
I realize both “sports” are played in just birthday suits,
otherwise, there are very few common attributes.
But don’t worry, Dennett, that’s not where I’m going,
’cause I had no pics that were not privates showing.

My music brings pleasure, but guilt in harmonics
is not a real thing. What about electronics?
It’s probably true, if you count my devices,
you’ll think like my wife, “This is one of his vices.” …


Harper Thorpe

Engaged citizen, poet, musician, humorist, family man. I value irreverence, soulfulness, and a big heart. Offering insight, introspection, shock & aw shucks!

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store