Dishwashing Blues
[Another silly poem, and “first world” problem? Well, we need to laugh sometimes! Life can get a bit heavy. Blessings.]
Oh, I hate to wash dishes
But mama said I must.
But I hate to wash dishes;
I’d rather eat dust.
Oh, the dishwasher’s broken
Oh, what can I do?
There’s a pile a foot high
On the counter; it’s true.
Just put on some music
And sing my way through.
Dance to some verses
And tap to the tune.
Each verse that is sung,
The dishrag is wrung.
The clean pile gets higher
‘Til all of them done!
clarakatalin 
Blues assignment
[For a Music assignment, we had to write some Blues lyrics, so here are mine.
Hope you can imagine it to a blues rhythm. I was imagining myself as a young
woman again, not knowing how to deal with aggressive men.]
———————————————————————————–
[Parentheses indicate speech]
I’m leavin’ the city, gonna find me a country home,
(You know) I’m leavin’ the city, gonna find me a country home,
You know the city ain’t so pretty; it’s just got me down.
You know, it just got too crowded; people all around.
You know, it just got too crowded; people all around.
No place for a girl to breathe, and they all clownin’ around.
‘Course when I got to the country, things were just as bad.
‘Course when I got to the country, things were just as bad.
What’s a girl to do? — all the men are mad.
Well, I’m back in the city; nowhere else to go (don’t seem to be).
Well, I’m back in the city; nowhere else to go (right now).
Just ask God to take control; and I’ll be heaven bound.
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