Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2015 04 04 Poetry: Past Due April 4, 2015

Hello again and welcome to April 4th. I know, I know, you’re saying to yourself, “Man, I can’t believe it’s April 4th already!”

What? You’re not? Hmm.

Either way, it is April 4th, and that means it’s time for another installment in in my personal poetry a day challenge.

Wait! Don’t leave!

Are you still here? Phew! I thought I lost you.


I have always relied on my sense of humor to break the ice, probably because of my pitifully shy state of character. Nothing breaks the ice like humility of self, put into words that propel humor into the mix.


Sometimes I surprise myself at how much I don’t say sometimes.

Fact is, I love humor, and how it relates to everything relative to our lives. After all, humor is based on truth. That’s what makes it so funny.

Ok, ok, ok, I’m rambling. Sorry.

Here we go with my poem entry for the day. I thank you for stopping by, and hope you drop by again.

Take care and here we go.


Past Due

A broken vacuum to my left,

A loose screw to my right.

My pc screen turned blue, then dark.

My sweat pants are too tight.

Blue Jays screaming all day long,

Turkeys lining up.

Black oil seed’s been gobbled down.

I should use a bigger cup.

The furnace runs throughout the night.

The winter’s hanging tough.

March is gone and April’s here.

I’ve had about enough.

Frozen pizza, man’s best friend.

The oven’s getting hot

Where are all the oven mitts?

That’s right. The washer’s shot.

Sump pump’s running all day long.

Electric bill’s unkind.

Squirrels are hanging upside down.

I think I’ve lost my mind!

The porch door’s broken. The cats are gone.

The internet just died.

Remote control has walked away.

I think the freezer’s fried.

Pizza’s crust is nice and burnt,

Just like last night’s stew.

My sanity is all I have,

And that’s three months past due!


One Response to “2015 04 04 Poetry: Past Due”

  1. carol clyons Says:


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