Marriage Jokes

1. Mine

2. I was recently working in the ER, everyone was packed into the room (radiology, nurses, respiratory, someone handing out pens to anyone who would sign their form relieving the hospital of any liability, a couple of assistants and one scribe.). I gently took the patients arm and ducking an X-ray machine and a few clipboards, I ended up on one knee. Looking down and noticing my ringed finger, she asked if I had knelt down to ask for my wife's hand in marriage. I said, "Lady, I got all the way on the floor."
Have you ever noticed that different people turn different shades of blush?

3. Last week I went to bed with a sore lip and woke up a GD herpetologist. I turned to my wife and said, "I thought you said it wasn't contagious." I get a lot of blank stares.

4. Later a friend asked me what I thought about Wikileaks. I said, "Look, I may have this 'coldsore' on my lip, but my wiki does not leak."

5. I thought there was more. . .

6. I already posted but it fits.
Everyday with you is like Christmas - I'm always a little disappointed and I never get what I want.

Space Invaders

I hear we have an alien problem
but I haven't seen many of them.
My troubles come from relatives;
family, friends and other kin.

There are so many opinions
about what is to be done.
I say move far away
and purchase a gun.

Unfinished

What is wrong with me?
I don't seem to be able to feel.
There isn't even phantom pain
where the connection broke.

Rip out those heartstrings
and play my favorite song.
They're so badly out of tune,
sounds like something went wrong.

Discordant melodies,
unfinished poems.
I've forgotten the words
to some of my favorite songs.

Something is missing. . .
still the music goes on,
it sputters and falters
  . . . and stops.

Missing Summer

The warm night
balmy - moist
on my skin
feels like. . .
you breathing
on my neck again.

The warm night
sweet - freash
fragrance in the air
I turn - breath in
feels like . . .
you are everywhere.

The warm night
enveloping darkness
holds me close
feels like. . .
your arms around me,
like you never let go.

The warm night
fleeting - fast
I try to hold on
feels like. . .
its not just Summer
but with daybreak
the feeling fades.

To Your Own Self

I believe in you,
all the choices you make,
everything you do.

Don't let anyone bring you down.
Make your choices,
stand your ground.

Late at night,
after the voices have all gone.
When you're the only one - left alone.

It's then - as you go to sleep
with all the secrets you keep,
your smile should be the brightest.

Expectations

She always said -
Boy, I'd follow you anywhere
 - even to the ends of the Earth.

But I never planned
on going that far,
for what it's worth. . .

I guess it wasn't far enough.

Keeping the Dead

Blue lays over and touches black.
Color becomes more brilliant
shining out of the darkness.

Ten thousand conversations -
all the things I would have said
in these short years passed.

Mantric chants, effigies and prayers
calling out to you - naming you.
I wear you like an omen.

Hanging on every word you never said
I breathe in every last breath.
I feel you near me - even now.

We don't talk about heaven much anymore
since you've been gone, the lines drawn
have worn away with time.

All the dreams and frustrations shared,
almost as natural as each new day,
with you and the thin air - keeping the dead.

SoHo

I listen to Sarah sing
but what does she know?
All those words bent around
a voice made in heaven.

Then Tracy sings
and you know that she has been there
where ever there is.
She has felt it alright.

and I'm in SoHo -
the tides are out.
There was no sun today
just lighter billeted gray.

The strangest thing -
me to think of you,
here of all places. . .
and I can't wait for the failing light
 - the streetlight sunshine.

This mist will turn to rain
or maybe the other way around
and I'll keep looking - (for something)
that doesn't remind me of you.

It feels like a world
without an ocean
 - like I could wish it all away
but it still rolls back with the tides.

I'll leave you here in SoHo
I've got somewhere else to go
Find a moments rest
until I remember your face.

The Zoo We Knew

   Our latest field trip to the zoo was filled with many exciting discoveries. The guide was very knowledgeable and well spoken, in spite of being only six years old. His attire bespoke a seasoned safari hunter and his manner was calm under the greatest pressure.

   As we neared the big cat exhibit and lunch drew nigh, out fearless guide seemed to lose that edge that proclaimed - "leader." Into this vacuum of leadership, I was able to provide a wonderful pearl of wisdom - that I can only hope will haunt educators for years to come. Maybe, given the chance to dream, information that can be passed to future generations and annoy teachers that I could never have the prospect of meeting personally. One can only hope.

   A question arose from one of the overseers regarding where cheetahs are originally from. Sensing the general lull in the crowd, I tentatively waved my hand and was called upon after two or three glances around the throng, I could not hold the delay against her, as she was a dullard, relinquishing authority completely to a six year old. No matter how well dressed, short people have an attention span limit. Anyway, back to the cheetahs: I cleared my throat for full effect and proclaimed -

"Cheetahs are originally from New York -"

   There seemed to be a murmur of disagreement from the mob. I had to speak louder to rise above the din.

"Its true!" I said, "They're wall street bankers who got caught lion."

   Which, of course, was the next exhibit and there was much discourse on how, when and where they were caught lion. It was a tremendous afternoon that will live on in the minds of many - if I have anything to do with it.

Echoes

Didn't something happen?
I never see you anymore -

Echoes - faint echoes

You never said goodbye
You never left my mind

Every now and then
Everything skips
Like echoes from far away
and I remember something -

You never said goodbye
You never left my mind

And I can almost hear
   your voice
I can almost hear
   I love you

Somewhere out there
Somewhere in the echoes
You never said goodbye
You never left my mind

Dry

Its a beat
There's a beat
Movement random
   Foot taps
Head held back
   trying to avoid a memory
that comes anyway

But this place is safe
You never come here
   except with me
My mind and its endless
banal excursions

Ice-cold brick
against a warm body
and too few libations
to ease the soul.

Cinnamon

He thought of her like cinnamon;
     not ground and spicy,
smelling like christmas time necessarily,
but sometimes like that too.
No, she was earthy and whole,
original in her shape and unchangeable,
no matter the contrivances begged.
Wholly elegant, a delightful addition,
while remaining at once and forever
true to every conveyance of her tongue.
Truely cinnamon, curled around the edges -
just enough, he supposed, to catch life
as it passed by.
And added to the illusion too,
by enjoining the zest to the life she lived.
Mostly, because it was not hers alone,
though it could have easily been.
He thought of her like cinnamon
and settled his taste buds for more.

Just One Night Alone

The light played about your face
and the pictures stole you away
to somewhere seething,
afraid of your emotions
or just letting them show.
This is how you learned,
all this life without expression.
Except, once the door opens
you find it difficult to close again.
The light outside died a quiet death,
hidden from view, I felt it go -
The last gasps and then darkness.
Maybe the room darkened too,
with your mood,
was that possible?
Your words carried only the slightest intent
and would not be drawn out tonight.
Besides, I had something to prove
 - look what I can do -
but you did not notice,
somewhere seething about something
spoken without intent.