
Homeless
Sweet, sickly scent — /
pine trees piled in the street, /
homeless from holidays.
.
.
#homeless #holidays #scent #pine #tree #street #photo #haiga #poem #poetry #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #january #friday #012624 #2024

Homeless
Sweet, sickly scent — /
pine trees piled in the street, /
homeless from holidays.
.
.
#homeless #holidays #scent #pine #tree #street #photo #haiga #poem #poetry #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #january #friday #012624 #2024

Drink the green
If the red runs out, drink the green,
though the green can be quite mean.
Served at room temp or a little warmer,
it is said to make you adore the former.
It will drive you out into the day,
groping, hoping to get away
from awfulness in your mouth
that tastes like a mouse gone south.
.
.
#122523 #poem # humor #holidays #christmas #davidebooker
Filed under 2023, Christmas, holiday, humor, poem, poet, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker

Holidays
The pumpkin laughs /
at the fat man trying to pass. /
The turkey flew the coop.
.
.
#pumpkin #holidays #turkey #coop #fat man #laugh #photo #poem #poetry #senryu #haiku #talltalestogo #davidebooker #oldnorthknoxville #december #friday #121622 #2022
Happy hard
There once was a writer of greeting cards, /
Who found this season a bit of a canard. /
All she had to say /
She’d said already for pay. /
To do it now for free was very hard.

Santa giving out Halloween candy
Happy Ho-Ho-Holloween!
From October 31, 2013.
A pirate and Mario green
On Santa’s front porch can be seen.
Oh, the memories from nine years past
May they give a smile that will last.
As the years raise, sails on the mast,
Sailing us to other shores, too fast.
To hold a moment in our hands
Is hard because of where we stand.
We want to be still, a rock on land,
But that is often not how it’s planned.
So, remember now all things seen,
Smelled, felt, and comforting.
Knowing most will be only a sheen,
A glittering moment from which we have been.
Filed under 2021, Old North Knoxville, photo, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker
She was pumped to see the candy. And she was pumped to see the pumps. She had been looking all over town for this type of candy: handmade, locally produced, just the thing to impress him with. After all, he had always given her handmade gifts. Then she saw the shoes, the pumps made from chocolate and candy. She’d always heard that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and she had a secret fetish of wanting a man to at least once in her life nibble and suck her toes. This was just the item. It combined both things, and he wouldn’t even have to know about her fetish until the moment he nibbled his way up to her ruby red painted toes.
Oh, could this be real? Could this actually be happening?
She wanted to click her heels like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and say, “This place is better than home. This place is better than home.”
Then the witch behind the counter yelled over at her: “I ain’t here for my health. You gonna buy or you gonna slobber?”
She thought about it for a moment and wondered what she would do if he wouldn’t nibble away her chocolate shoe? What if he didn’t even like chocolate? What would she do then?
“Well?” the witch was not pleased to be kept waiting.
“I’ll take them all,” she said, “And could you gift wrap them?”
The look on the witch’s face was beyond sour. “You know, you can’t really wear these. And you can’t bring ’em back.”
“For what I have in mind, that won’t be an issue.”
The witch shrugged and packed up all five shoes.
She young woman walked home in the cold and blowing snow. Her man would be arriving soon, so she hurried. When she got home, she left a note where here man would find it, then went straight to bed and waited … and waited … and waited….
When morning came, she awoke with a jolt. It took a moment or two before she realized what had happened. All the chocolate shoes were gone, except one, which was partially eaten, the toe area missing. She found a wrapped present in the bed beside her and a note which read:
“My dear Virginia, how you have grown. I almost didn’t recognize you. I hope you like the present. I made it especially for you. Thank you for the chocolate snacks. I tried each one on your pretty little feet and nibbled my way up to your toes. Maybe next year, we can try these. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. –S.”
Virginia ripped open the present. She stared at the gift for a few minutes before she realized what it was. She turned as red as S’s suit to think he thought of her this way.
It was almost amazing what could happen when you still believed in the jolly ol’ elf.
Filed under Photo by author, Photo Finish Friday
Glass sparkled roadway /
cold winds and clotted metal /
Christmas and cop lights.
Filed under Christmas, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
This is a note to tell you
that Wall Street has taken away
the things I really needed:
my workshop, my reindeer, my sleigh.
I now make my rounds on a jackass;
he’s old and crippled and slow.
So, if you don’t see me come Christmas,
I’ll be out on my ass in the snow.
Filed under cartoon by author, Christmas, poetry, Silly Saturday