Category Archives: arcane wikdlife

HE BEWAILS AND MOANS

He wishes he hadn’t gone

To see what the computer had on…

His tormentor–

Chief presenter–

Told him, just leave the leeches on!

Images on a screen,

Exposure to the obscene…

Big regret

That he let,

Those pictures into daydreams!

Exposing more to the eye,

Continues the fading high…

Holding his ground

At least is sound,

But the germ in his brain won’t die.

More and more guys struggle,

Seeing will power puddles…

Melt to the core

Without God to shore

Up the man in his muddle.

–J.E.C.

we are…JUST LIKE YOU!

A radio ad often run

This neck of the woods for fun…

Exterminator

With a mouse translator,

Saying mice…are like everyone!

Mouse claims he’s just like you,

Running around for something to chew…

He stays warm

Doing clothes harm,

Or by insulation he’ll hew.

This mouse says he is polite,

Leaves calling cards by night…

Which he likes to do

‘Cause he’s “just like you,”

You SHOULD think his entry delight!

Got up early from bed,

This ad rolling round in my head…

By the lamp light

A mouse ran in fright,

Was just as the ad…said!

He ran from our back room to closet,

And no–I saw no deposit…

And then he went zoom

Into the living room,

No way that I could stop it.

I hope the guy’s poor at craps,

Maintenance put out the traps…

I hope there’s just one

Then it’s done,

Our clutter comes out from under wraps!

–Jonathan Caswell

WOOD SMOKE–SKUNKS COLLIDE!

Wood smoke and skunks collide,

In the evening-tide…

Strength of scent

Does compliment,

How close the skunk may hide!

From under cars people sprayed,

Wish they’d better assayed…

Danger zones

Close to home,

And learned to shoo it away!

Smelling smoke in the air,

Cooler weather we share…

Two cords at least

But the harvest’s a beast,

Three or more make enough to share…!

–Jonathan Caswell

SPOT-LIT

White spiders caught by spot lights,

Climb up inside most nights…

White in the glare

They climb in there,

Until cold winter nights!

Punished for blogging at work,

His collar was given a jerk…

He couldn’t post

Which discouraged most,

Some blogs he couldn’t read in dark murk!

Some things were allowed him

To add/subtract pictures at whim…

Working around

New problems he found,

He’s not very happy within!

Maybe tomorrow doing puzzles

Keeps him away from getting muzzled…

Already occurred

By his blog being curbed,

As down as clouds dropping drizzle.

The spiders go on with their climb.

Spinning web fills the time…

Spot lights’ warm

Light will not harm,

To blindness they can resign.

–J.E.C.

TALKING ABOUT THIS PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION CAMPAIGN…!

Some observations please,

In the midst of all the sleaze…

Republicans say

“Trump…AWAY.”

Wanting to bring him to his knees.

Last  I heard an report,

Democratic campaigners were FOUR…

Obama, his wife,

Bill, Hillary and V.P. strive,

All on the campaign tour.

Other than Gov. Pence,

Trump has no supporting defence…

Mean-spirit guys

Won’t lift their eyes,

Or do anything for Trump hence!

Your Convention really meant naught,

In selfish cruelty caught…

You’re saying “Go to Hell,”

To the people as well,

Acting like you’re Hillary bought!

It’s the hissy-fit people I implore,

FOR ONCE..put your egos out the door…

He’s not from your camps

But give him a chance,

In taxes we’ll always pay more!

–Jonathan Caswell

(An Opinionated Poem)

“LAZIER LAOS LECTURING”

(AN OPINION PIECE)

Obama lectures and moans

Over problems he, himself, owns…

His unending fame

Is to others blame,

Not caring who dies in their homes.

A fool acting crazy

Who can’t control squat calls lazy…

Folks who know

How things ought to go,

But won’t follow him—amazing!

In Laos we’re hardly loved,

Embarrassing is how he’s governed…

If so far away

Do we not hear what he’ll say?

A childish prank of the ungoverned!

J.E.C.

(whose opinion is his own!)

HAIKU OF EARLY AUGUST!

(Each haiku is an individual poem, though related to the others)

White dots gone from lakes,

Swans are training their young ones…

Soon…to take over!

–J.E.C.

Last-of-season sales,

Clearing out for winter stock…

Cars, clothes…furniture!

–J.E.C.

Cicada around,

Ringing waves of night time sound…

Sign of Fall’s approach!

–J.E.C.

Our Cottage refuge,

Once the family respite…

Has met a great fall.

–J.E.C.

When the landscapers

Remove summer plants and all…

Chrysanthemums awe!

–J.E.C.

Redheads turn back blonde,

Their hot summer is over…

Cooling off…is fun!

(Don’t “blondes have more fun?”)

–J.E.C.

Fat flies come indoors,

Escaping Fall’s chill…

People do so, too!

–J.E.C.

–Jonathan E. Caswell

THE MAN WHO DIDN’T ACCEPT HE WAS ONE AND DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO ACT.

Grew up with an absent Dad,

Mostly Mom, the parent he had…

Sheltered childhoods

Aren’t always good,

Not having male role models–bad!

His Mom tried the best she knew how,

Discipline, answering questions  till now…

But left much desired

On how a man’s fired,

Nor what in a man is allowed.

So men saying “all that’s normal,”

Didn’t help his clashes hormonal…

Took a long time

Accepting “who am I,”

But understands better his story’s moral!

–Jonathan Caswell

MUMFORD FOR REAL

The mighty Mumford’s appeal

Is that this river is real…

From cedar tree swamps

Past summer camps,

And ponds where fishermen  creel!

Conjoined, two different creeks,

Wander through back yards and sneaks…

Hardly impressive

Peaceful not restive,

Over waterfalls it speaks.

Riedell (“riddle”) brook merges

Into the Mumford which urges…

Water to flow

Far down below,

Down through mill ponds turbid.

Through Uxbridge it parallels,

The Blackstone River it swells…

In South Uxbridge reeds

The merging succeeds,

Complete with cleaned-up river smells.

When paralleling Blackstone,

It makes the old canal its own…

Flowing through locks

Stripped of big rocks,

History courses along.

–Jonathan Caswell

HAVEN’T SEEN OUR TURTLES!

Between a swamp and pond,

A turtle commute goes on…

Mamma lays eggs

On swampland estates,

And the young ones cross asphalt home!

Evenings its been quiet,

No inklings of a turtle riot…

Hotter weather proves

A snapping turtle moves,

And no one can deny it.

Tiny “painteds”too,

Show up trying to get through…

Painted turtles small

May not make it at all,

Being caught in door jambs  (boo-hoo).

–Jonathan Caswell