Welcome to Cozy Poetry Corner by Debra A Winter (Richter)

“Tormado Humor of Some Kind of Life”

Three steps forward, four steps back—

Isn’t that how it goes on a bad‑day track.

We lose our glasses, we can’t see right;

Can’t find our keys. No fast food tonight.

~

We grumble at the neighbor’s barking dog next door,

Tripping over our own dog sprawled on the floor.

We try to do everything just up to code—

And what happens? It just worsens the load.

~

Can we ever win this great game of life?

Can’t find butter because I lost my wife!

She was good at finding what I could not.

Now you know me… I love being a snot.

~

But with three steps forward; four steps back,

Can’t remember if I left my lunch in my sack.

But I can say one thing, and this is a fact:

This noggin is on pause, ’cause it can’t react.

~

Are the trees striped green or is it the grass?

Is my car filled to the brim with unleaded gas?

I’m four steps away from the sliding door—

But my booze bottle is on the second floor.

~

Mother Teresa, come have a gracious sip,

Then dance away that toga with a heavenly flip.

This body of mine is getting boozed up to the hilt—

Cause I’m walking around naked without my kilt.

~

Humor has a strange way of sneaking out,

Grab me another bottle; I want to shout.

For I stubbed my toes on the whatchamacallit thing;

Time, to pass out, – I’m simply too unfit for anything.

~

Ouch—here are my glasses; I still can’t see.

Can’t find the car… must have parked it up a tree.

I guess it’s good to have an awful bad day.

Is this my bed, or a garbage sack that’s full of hay?

~

If the light shines bright, the sun is out;

Then I’ll head to the bathroom and shout:

“Turn the darn light off; it’s blinding me.”

I’m a drunk old man who has to go pee!

~

I’ve missed the toilet — what the hell?

It’s dark in here, impaired, can you tell?

Back to my bedroom — where’s my bed?

Darn door anyway… I smacked my head.

~

So, if tomorrow comes backwards again,

And my thoughts fall out like a fly‑away hen,

I’ll blame the tormato for spinning in my bed—

Then pull all my covers up tight over my head.

~

I’ll pass out now; as I sorely understand I need my rest;

I think that will be this king’s royal best.

It’s three steps forward? No—six steps back!

Hand me that booze in the brown paper sack!

Authors note: Sometimes life gets so hectic you don’t know which way is up. This was one of my days where the fingers kept typing whatever they wanted- wherever my brain took them and stopped at the brown bag.