—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
MORNING BLUES
Morning routine, all set
bib tied below the neck
angel-faced, perched on a high chair
rocking furiously
war cry on petulant lips
scowls…what’s this?
Again, those gassy green peas
mouth clamps shut,
eyes wide with judgment
as if served betrayal on porridge
A spoon flies, missing Ma’s glasses
The bowl of peas scatters like confetti
landing on the sleeping cat.
The diaper swells up in protest.
Morning routine, all set
bib tied below the neck
angel-faced, perched on a high chair
rocking furiously
war cry on petulant lips
scowls…what’s this?
Again, those gassy green peas
mouth clamps shut,
eyes wide with judgment
as if served betrayal on porridge
A spoon flies, missing Ma’s glasses
The bowl of peas scatters like confetti
landing on the sleeping cat.
The diaper swells up in protest.
TODDLER TANTRUMS
“Nope!” said Owen with a shout,
“Nope!” said Owen with a shout,
Tossed his diaper, ran straight out.
Bare buns gleamed in morning light,
Zoomed past Grandma. Oh! what a sight!
Neighbours gasped, the cat took flight,
Neighbours gasped, the cat took flight,
Dad just sighed, “Not again… right?”
Owen sprawled on the lawn
Paid scant attention to the loud guffaws
The previous night
Mom had read the parable
Of “The Emperor’s New Clothes”
Owen saw no wrong in being alike.
Paid scant attention to the loud guffaws
The previous night
Mom had read the parable
Of “The Emperor’s New Clothes”
Owen saw no wrong in being alike.
BOOBY TRAP
now, who would ever imagine
that a booby trap
would be strapped
onto the cutest bums
speed-crawling across
a just-vacuumed carpet
a smug little landmine
now, who would ever imagine
that a booby trap
would be strapped
onto the cutest bums
speed-crawling across
a just-vacuumed carpet
a smug little landmine
plotting the next detonation?
LAUNDRY DAY
Ma hollers, “Laundry Day!
Toss your dirty duds in the porthole!”
Big bro chucks his socks like a pro
Little Tim, age two, follows
Obedient, proud,
Always willing to help
Pushes his soiled diapers as well.
Spin cycle whirs; suds fill up
Machine comes to a stop
Out flops garments, yellow-stained
That fail the sniff test
The stench hits hard
Faces turned green
Tim just blinks…
What? Didn’t I help clean?
Ma hollers, “Laundry Day!
Toss your dirty duds in the porthole!”
Big bro chucks his socks like a pro
Little Tim, age two, follows
Obedient, proud,
Always willing to help
Pushes his soiled diapers as well.
Spin cycle whirs; suds fill up
Machine comes to a stop
Out flops garments, yellow-stained
That fail the sniff test
The stench hits hard
Faces turned green
Tim just blinks…
What? Didn’t I help clean?
WALK IN THE PARK
The stroller rolls with grace
a royal palanquin
for the chubby face
binkie in mouth, eyes wide open
surveying the birds, bees,
and blue skies overhead
Mama is pleased, hums a tune
serene and sweet,
while dodging dog poop with her feet.
Then comes the wail, a banshee cry
That says, “I’m done with Nature study
Now deal with what has collected
In my Huggies”.
Mama takes a U-turn
returns to the flat,
The stroller rolls with grace
a royal palanquin
for the chubby face
binkie in mouth, eyes wide open
surveying the birds, bees,
and blue skies overhead
Mama is pleased, hums a tune
serene and sweet,
while dodging dog poop with her feet.
Then comes the wail, a banshee cry
That says, “I’m done with Nature study
Now deal with what has collected
In my Huggies”.
Mama takes a U-turn
returns to the flat,
Park's debut goes kaput!
MIA AMD THE MAGICAL JUICE
Curious Mia, cheeky and free,
Curious Mia, cheeky and free,
Climbed the table at just age three.
Spotted a glass, all sparkly and bright
“Ooh, lemonade!” She squealed with delight.
Tasted yummy! Sort of lemony
Nowhere like milk; Oh! so yucky!
And then magic just happened
Mia felt extremely gladdened
She danced around, hummed a tune
Balancing in her mouth, a spoon
Mama looked up and froze in time
Tasted yummy! Sort of lemony
Nowhere like milk; Oh! so yucky!
And then magic just happened
Mia felt extremely gladdened
She danced around, hummed a tune
Balancing in her mouth, a spoon
Mama looked up and froze in time
“Oh NO—she drank my gin and lime!”
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
I have American in-laws, and I care about the environment. We don’t use disposable diapers, which, of course, creates an environmental problem of our own.
—Yakov Smirnoff
____________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Snigdha Agrawal for today’s fine poetry as we tackle a first-ever for the Kitchen: Diapers!
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
I have American in-laws, and I care about the environment. We don’t use disposable diapers, which, of course, creates an environmental problem of our own.
—Yakov Smirnoff
____________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Snigdha Agrawal for today’s fine poetry as we tackle a first-ever for the Kitchen: Diapers!
For info about
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
