Poems and/or Drawings about the Weather and Seasons.
150318
Don’t be misled there’s always bed
I think I’ll just go back to bed
Wind blew the hat off of my head
My jeans don’t fit ’cause I’m too fat
My only friend’s a one-eyed cat
I found a bug in my sandwich
I drove my car into a ditch
I owe way more than I can pay
I got shit on by a blue jay
My job is slowly killing me
It sometimes hurts when I go pee
My doctor says I’ll soon be dead
I think I’ll just go back to bed
150311
What’s this wet stuff?
Drizzle isn’t really rain
Not enough to fill the drain
Sprinkling doesn’t really count
Comes in such a small amount
When it pours it’s way too much
Overflows the curb and such
Not a drought and not a flood
But sufficient to make mud
That’s the rain we really need
Just enough to grow a seed
150302
Hailing haiku
Bright and sunny morn
And then it poured cats and dogs
What the friggen hail?
141003
Malodorous vomit pancakes
It’s so fucking hot
And the Angels lost again
Eat a bag of shit!
140521
I’d like to solve the puzzle
Wheel of Fortune’s Pat Sajak
Is as dull as dental plaque
He goes trolling on twitter
And he comes off as bitter
He pokes fun at climate change
And takes pix at a gun range
He puts down women and gays
His opinions cause malaise
Please don’t follow Pat Sajak
Sony should give him the sack
140501
Hot enough to fry an egg…
78 at nine
Some people think that’s fine
But on the Central Coast
That’s when we start to roast
Ninety seven at noon
That’s when we start to swoon
When it’s still hot at night
It makes us feel like shite
We’ll all be in sorrow
If hotter tomorrow
We’ll be wearing a frown
If it doesn’t cool down
140331
I don’t care if I never get back
All across the US of A
From Seattle to Tampa Bay
From San Diego to St. Paul
It’s opening day for baseball
Through fall and winter I did mope
But opening day brings new hope
‘Cause when the home team takes the field
Last year’s suffering is all healed
I got my glove; I got my hat
My favorite player is at bat
Will he hit it over the wall?
Let’s find out, it’s time to play ball!
140301
It came quickly
This so-called storms was incomplete
It rained enough to flood the street
It washed my car and soaked our lawn
But quick as it came, It was gone
140129
You cannot deny warming’s not a lie
The rain is a lie
Bright sun in the sky
It’s hot as July
The soil is bone dry
The farmers all cry
Their crops wilt and die
There is no supply
Of fresh food to buy
A tear’s in my eye
As life says good-bye
140117
Just say nyet!
There are those that are gluten-free
But the world should be Putin-free
He’s as bad as Josef Stalin
Russia’s status is free-fallin’
They are hosting the winter games
While his speeches are fanning flames
His views are as thick as a brick
Vladimir Putin – you’re a dick!
140103
Light up that halo #AngelsWin
Halo around the sun
Halo around the sun
Means today will be fun
Halo around the moon
Halo around the moon
Means fun will happen soon
Halo around your head
Halo around your head
Means you’re probably dead
1209
Best one until next year
I don’t think I will ever see
A better looking Christmas tree
The ornaments that mean so much
Look at Tiny Tim with his crutch
And there’s Homer as Mr. Plow
And Spider-Man’s on the top bough
Santa’s there with a twinkling light
It’s perfect for this chilly night
1113
Heated haiku
Summer turned to Fall
Then Winter and Spring were skipped
We’re back in Summer
1110
Walk me out in the morning dew
There Will Come Soft Rains
By Sara Teasdale
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools, singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
1105
Highly colorful haiku
Vines have turned orange
The monarchs are back again
This is our autumn
1004
Harvest haiku
Leaves are turning brown
And here on the Central Coast
Grapes are getting crushed
0929
AKA the Fall
The Autumn
By Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them —
The summer flowers depart —
Sit still — as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart.
How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.
Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!
The dearest hands that clasp our hands, —
Their presence may be o’er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refresh’d our mind,
Shall come — as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.
Hear not the wind — view not the woods;
Look out o’er vale and hill-
In spring, the sky encircled them —
The sky is round them still.
Come autumn’s scathe — come winter’s cold —
Come change — and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth bound,
Can ne’er be desolate.
0925
High wind haiku
Watch the palm trees sway
Hot or cold, doesn’t matter
The wind is constant
0922
Slip slidin’ away
As Summer into Autumn slips
By Emily Dickinson
As Summer into Autumn slips
And yet we sooner say
“The Summer” than “the Autumn,” lest
We turn the sun away,
And almost count it an Affront
The presence to concede
Of one however lovely, not
The one that we have loved —
So we evade the charge of Years
On one attempting shy
The Circumvention of the Shaft
Of Life’s Declivity.
0715
It burns! It burns!
It’s not even one
I got too much sun
Will I ever learn?
Here comes the sunburn
0701
I need SPF googol
First day of July
Sun up in the sky
Making my skin fry
Think I’m gonna cry
0630
He scorches he glows
Summer Sun
By Robert Louis Stevenson
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
0618
Traiňs are äwesome
Leaving Prague by way of train
River’s swollen from the rain
Meadows full of red poppies
Hard to see through tall green trees
Fields of hay are cut and rolled
Trolley brings us something cold
Plzeň has a huge train yard
Crossing border with no guard
Now we leave Bohemia
And enter Bavaria
Bug flies in through the window
Jean laughs at how wild I go
I thrash about and kick it
Fräulein punches our ticket
It’s just about half past five
When Regensburg, we arrive
0408
Time for a good blow
All of the way to Grover
These gusts will knock you over
It is Sofa King windy
It would blow off your bindi
