Ode to Gunk, Rubbing Alcohol and Real Poets

This morning, I’m playing Solitaire –

Because laundry is swirling in the washer –

Or drying on the line –

And I still don’t feel like tackling the gunk in my kitchen sink –

I’m trying to beat my best time –

Hard to do, when the mouse feet are fettered –

By months of dust, grime and other unknown films –

I open the new bottle of Rubbing Alcohol,

Grinning as I remember why I bought it –

Seems the child unit thought the previous clear bottle held peroxide –

And dutifully poured the entire bottle over the scrapes on his legs –

Wounds incurred from weeds, tree branches and pellets –

As he and his band of brothers waged an imaginary war –

On the wild plains of the prairie –

Where no one actually dies – and remain friends as soon as “Uncle” is called –

Wars should always be fought with air-soft guns…

And adequate eye protection – –

How he howled and vowed never to use peroxide again –


Soak the cotton with liquid fire –

Swipe over tiny mouse feet –

Turn pure white to grimy black –

as I clean the witness to my neglected garden plans-

And partner in frenzied work to pay for said garden plans –

aka, my desk –

And then resume my game – only to find

The Queen of Hearts blocking my win –

New game – and how fast I stack the deck –

As the mouse skitters across my clean desk –

On pristine feet –

Perhaps I need to wipe the gunk from my soul –

And skitter across my garden –

Or kitchen –

To do that which needs done –

Or perhaps

I should rescue my laundry from the approaching rain clouds –

And be satisfied, at least,

the mouse,


and hamper

are once more clean.

As I beat the Queen of Hearts in 1.05 minutes…


I’m not a poet and don’t I know it!Ā Ā  If you want to read real poetry, from a master – Check Out Ed’s End of the Planet Books – to see what a real poet can do!Ā Ā  šŸ™‚

6 thoughts on “Ode to Gunk, Rubbing Alcohol and Real Poets”

  1. I hope your laundry got rescued. and isn’t it just grand to get lost in a game of patience every now and again…… and I just love watching the fire works go off when I complete a game šŸ™‚ xxx


    1. I play solitaire when I need to think – Guess it’s a form of meditation for me – years ago, I was asked to handle a full days training session, a day before the training – and though I knew the material, I had never put on a training before – 8 hours of playing solitaire later, I typed out the handouts, made my outline and went off to do the training the next day – despite hubby poking his head in every hour or so, saying, “You better start working on it…” We were newly married and he came to know that if I’m playing solitaire, I might as well have a sign on my door
      “Keep Out – Genius at Work” – – ROFL šŸ˜€


      1. Haha! :-D. Brilliant…. Painting for me clears my head.. šŸ™‚ I painted for 4 hours today… thoroughly enjoyed it šŸ™‚ Now to catch up in WP again.. I never will, but it keeps me out of mischief .. šŸ˜‰


    1. Thank you so much! I printed it off to frame!

      I wrote poetry during my teenage angst years – dutifully, it had rhythm and the last wordy of every other line rhymed – šŸ™‚ –
      supposedly, the rules of Haiku and other types can be learned by kindergarteners, but I never did seem to grasp the concept – –
      But now, NOW! šŸ™‚ that I’m an adult – I can write it anyway I want and if it breaks the rules or doesn’t exactly conform to ‘poetry’ so what?
      Somedays, I’d like have every conversation in this voice’ – LOL


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