Pauly’s nerves threatened to cause his dinner to reappear as the tip of the knife pierced the skin on his throat.
“You couldn’t tell a joke if your life depended on it, could you?” the Master of Ceremonies asked.
Pauly should have known better than to enter Richard Bachman’s “The Funny Man” contest.
***
“Joke” is the one-word prompt on The Daily Post.
Luxury is defined
entirely dependent
upon the beholder;
a perspective of riches.
For some luxury means
pounds of gold
and mounds of caviar
upon crackers divine.
Some see a boat
a home
or a trip
to faraway lands.
For me luxury involves
only fresh sheets
upon which to rest
my weary bones.
It was late December and all the elves were busy painting eggs when Santa came stomping into the factory.
“Shut down the production lines!” Santa bellowed from the middle of the floor.
“What for?” asked the grumpy foreman elf.
“The Easter Bunnies have overestimated their order again. We won’t be needing them.”
A groan went out somewhere in the back corner and from the front line, an Easter egg came rocketing through the air and hit Santa smack dab in the forehead.
Thus began the great Easter egg food fight of the century. When it was over and the last of the elves were leaving the factory after sweeping up the mess, someone commented that it was lucky the eggs were hollow, though it would have been more satisfying if they weren’t.
And that’s how Creme Eggs were invented.
***
Paint is the prompt word of the day at The Daily Post.
I want to accept,
except accepting means
having to walk away
from having to walk
a mile in somebody else’s shoes
and let’s be honest here:
shoes don’t fit me.
I’m a dog, you see
although my owner thinks
I’m soft
I really don’t need
those rain boots she
keeps shoving on my feet
and the rain hat and cape?
Give me a break!
How does any
self-respecting dog
go out dressed like a human
and not expect
the other dogs not
to laugh?
Is that the front door?
My leash?
My… oh no, don’t tell me it’s raining…
I want to accept,
except accepting means
having to walk away
from a walk…
The shame!!
This unexpected poem is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here and join in! https://lindaghill.com/2016/08/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-aug-616/
Being praised makes Mary uncomfortable. So when Mr. Johnson, Mary’s new boss, called her into his office to pay her a compliment, she quit on the spot. After three days of anxious idleness, Mary found the courage to return, smile confidently, and accept Mr. Johnson’s praise. Mary is still unemployed.
Praise is The Daily Post one-word prompt.
I wanna take a bite out of everything:
a donut
some fish
a giant watermelon
the girl who sits next to me in math…
I could chew thru the floor
’til I get to China
and then use chopsticks
to eat a Buddha
or maybe just a fortune cookie
that might tell me
how to get home
to my donut.
Craving is the one-word prompt at The Daily Post.
muse, you travel through me
like a song
in a dream
on the tip of my tongue
your kiss
is a whisper of magic
possibilities eternal
your touch
a gentle push to create
and through your eyes
we see worlds
until now unfathomable
your thoughts flow through me
at times unwanted,
they invade my mind.
and yet,
i can’t live without you.
wet me with your tears
shake me with laughter
shock me with your
delicious ways
and i will follow you
as though i have no choice
for the truth is
you command my every word.
The job posting was a juicy one. One that I wasn’t qualified for, admittedly, but I wanted it so bad. I’d already asked around and no one else in my department had applied. So, I thought, what the hell?
I filled out the application and lied about having taken the university courses they required the successful applicant to have. But sure enough, a notice was posted a week later that someone else had gotten the job.
The bulletin read: Pro found.
Damn it.
Profound is the word of the day on The Daily Post.
I’m a two-dimensional figure,
posed for a display in a shop window
unable to move
unable to speak
but people walk by and laugh
and point at me as though
I have no feelings.
I do!
I am not the one who put me here
not the one who chose my pose
and yet I bear the brunt
of the ridicule meant
for my poser.
What a hoser.
He won’t even apologize.
***
Apology
“Oh my God, Micky, I love your new living room! It’s so dramatic! Let’s make love in it right now.”
“But… George. You’re not gay.”
“Oh, right.”
“Or are you?”
“Of course not!”
“Because not only did you just suggest we have sex, but you used the word “dramatic” to describe my decorating job.”
“I did, didn’t I? Can we sit down for a minute?”
“Why, so you can tell me you’re gay?”
“Would that be so bad?”
“No. Because I am too.”
“Oh my God, really?”
“Uh huh.”
“When were you going to tell your wife?”
“I dunno. I thought maybe she’d figure it out when she sees the living room.”
***
The Daily Post word of the day is Dramatic.
Linda G. Hill 