Category Archives: breathing

HE COULD BE SHOT…!

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The Poet could be shot,

Will be, likely as not…

Suggesting bras

Have their flaws,

For the well-endowed are healthy and hot!

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Those “bouncing” videos

Combined with torn muscle throes…

Unless contained

Could cause real pain,

Suff’ring of which somebody knows.

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Foreigners complain that we,

Over-emphasize  effacey…

Of the bra

For every flaw,

It shapes “them” daintily.

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“Lift and separate”…*

Room to breathe is great,

Constricting–yes–

But look at the “bless”,

With others you comiserate!

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–Jonathan Caswell

*A motto of PLAYTEX bras, if I remember!

IF A MIRACLE HAPPENED…?

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If a miracle happened overnight,

What would you do at morning’s light…

My counselor queried

‘Bout things I was worried,

How’d I show my delight?

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FIRST…cartwheels down the lane…

I’d hardly need to explain,

Making love to my wife

Each day for life (!),

Each of us healed of our pain.

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She said, my counselor did,

The solution within me hid…

Neutral in mind

Relieves stress unkind,

Toward this she me has bid.

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–Jonathan Caswell

ONE LAST RUN…BEFORE THE BLIZZARD???

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He knows what the guys go through,

He once helped run steam trains too…

One more run–

A little more fun–

Before the season is through!

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For us, little Number Twelve,*

An oh-four-oh “T” to delve…

Into steam

Locomotion…the dream

Of a lifetime…where we dwelt.

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That EVERETT two-six-oh,

Is a proud steamer we know….

Dimunitive survivor

With dainty drivers,

“Just one more run…before the heavy snow?”

–

🙂

–

–Jonathan Caswell

*Number Twelve, running back and forth on a siding at the Flemingville, NY , station site.  I stunk as a fireman shoveling coal…so I ran the little engine under supervision of the “old heads”(experienced railroad men).

VICARIOUS COLD SHOWER

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Vicariously feeling heat,

Of poetic lovers retreat…

Wanting to plunge

In mutual lunge,

Realizing there’s no honey to eat.

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Left standing  all alone,

These visions are not your own…

Kissing mid-air

A lover not there,

Embarrassed when bystanders groan!

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Stiffening love has power,

But time to take a REAL cold shower…

Her poetry

Powerfully

Has brought the experience to flower.

–

–J.E.C.

BAKED BEANS AND PASTA—YES!!!!

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Pasta with home-baked beans,

A way to combine proteins…

Producing less gas

The combined repast,

All he needs is to eat more greens!

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He went too fast in food stoking,

Stopping for a fit of choking…

Must better chew

His food or it’s true,

He’ll require some life-saving poking!

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If one is deceased and they ask it,

What made him choke his last fit…

Pasta and beans

Were the fatal means,

With which he was put in a casket!

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–J.E.C.

🙂

WHY EXPOSE IT ALL?

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Certain times he’ll confess

To any woman he might trust…

Certain things within his soul

He feels are a must.

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Not the best way to interest

A female in  his needy quest…

Exhibitionists

Are more honest!

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Almost as though the sharing

Prompted caring…

Exposing is supposing

That she’s willing to allow him in for a time.

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He’ll try this with anyone

He thinks will respond…

Even rejection or a small response

Is some kind of accepted response

(Though not the one rarely received–yet hoped for!)

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A cross between an mother and a lover,

An impossible cross to be…

Yet be exposed to him “without clothes”

Offering embraces free.

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I don’t know anyone who would

Submit to such a scheme…

Apparently can’t get it at home,

But at least the guy can dream!

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–Jonathan Caswell

(Another “hypothetical” poem!)

BLONDES, REDHEADS, BRUNETTES

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Listing his various loves,

And hair color of former doves…

He found these three

Most frequently,

Were treated with softer gloves.

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For blondes he’ll often fall,

One nearly got it all…

A job wasn’t found

And he ran aground,

Someone else got her all!

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A brunette is who he married,

And whose torch he’s carried…

For reds he’ll fall

And dream it all,

The brunette is glad he tarried!

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–Jonathan Caswell

MOTION DETECTORS!

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Sleeping in an office cubicle,

And not saying  I did…

Motion sensors keep the lights on–

The sleeper is never hid!

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Now is it from restless legs,

Moving so lights don’t dim down…

Or is it when waking up

Movement brings the lights on?

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Suffice to say the sleeper

Never quite could decide…

Enough that nobody caught him

The few hours he had to abide!

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–J.E.C.

COUNSELOR-CLIENT PROGRESS?

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How to define growing mental health,

Growing better from inside…

Counselor-client on different wavelengths

What standards are used to decide?

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His second arranged very last chance

To summon healing guides…

Mind-body-spirit is hardly his dance

Or find himself left outside!

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The woman he sees claims she relates

to nearly all of his ploys…

It’s hard when he communicates

Sometimes she  sounds like two-faced noise.

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A wall blocking trust is lower today,

With his loved one is much higher still…

Counselor is happy with progress anyway

Hoping that his moat won’t refill!

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Guided meditation she wants him to try,

It goes against his belief…

She tries keeping a non-judgmental  eye,

And tries to find other relief.

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So, what progress can they report,

Certain walls are inching down…

He’s watching for things that affect what he says

Healing that old inner wound!

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—-Jonathan Caswell

A.C. LAUD

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We laud the gift to mankind,

(We’ve Air Conditioning in mind)…

Comfortable air

Cooling off in there,

Refrigeration on the fly!

–

–J.E.C.