A Poem For Bob

          You used to look so alien
Black holes for eyes, a daunted gaze
at all you saw. My heart ablazed.
Your soft, white fur, tiny body,
Oversized cranium
Again, those eyes, which still amaze.

           You're my alien baby Bobby.

"Gulls"

Why is it
you did it?
That streak on
my window.

I contemplate
"An aim?"
You counter,
with my cat's name.

By Laura D

A Nursery Rhyme by Laura D

*Tick tock* "Marjorie Dock" 
Who in the hell are you?
I've never hear of you before
And put down that bomb.

By Laura D 

First posted on Twitter HERE

Coffee Stirrers - A Poem

Coffee stirrers, two
Clouding out my worded page
Changing it's hue
It almost looks staged
That stupid cross
Upon mine page.

By Laura D

A Joke

Have you heard the one about the guy with amnesia?
Neither has he.

Thank you, I'm here all night.

Literally, here all night. I don't sleep.

Thank you.

From The Heart AKA At My Wits End

         The woodlands were damp and dark that April night, her eyes reflected magnificently in the moon's glow. I was neither handsome nor cool. But she was stupid, so I convinced her I was both handsome and cool. She looked up at me,

“You must be the tallest in this whole country!” 

She hadn't seemed to notice I was sitting atop a tree.

“Of course I am! Come sit up here by me, my dear. It's cold down there on the grass, and up here we can see the whole town, all the houses!”

She tried. Boy, did she try. But those stubby legs were getting her nowhere.

“Come on, I ain't got all night darlin'!”

After 45 minutes of watching her struggle I made my way carefully down in an awkward, about to lose my footing sort of fashion, like the hero I am. Rubbing my cheek against hers, I said,

“Let's take a walk, baby. There's a house yonder I have my eye on.”

Now is when I, Laura D, the editor of this beautiful story must insist on cutting in and then cutting out what the original author had written next. It was graphic and unnecessarily silly.

And now is when I, the CEO of D-LightFilled Publishing®, for legal reasons would like to step in and clarify a few things:

1. The author of this story is one “Stripey the Cat”
2. The editor of this story is one Laura D McBryde
3. The CEO of D-LightFilled Publishing® is that same Laura D McBryde, or maybe it isn't, you don't know.

Now that's all out of the way...this story was based on a true one.

Stripey, one April night, impregnated Cali the kitten, who then came to live with the CEO of D-LightFilled Publishing® and gave birth, hence how our whole family is now stupid with cats. All of this was fine until recently when Mr Stripey rediscovered where Cali lives and has moved himself and all of his belongings in (including his....wait, what's the organ that produces farts? Because he's certainly moved that into the house too).

IF YOU KNOW THIS GUY PLEASE CONTACT ME @lauradmcbryde on Twitter or in the comments here.

Here's his picture. He had it done by a professional using some money I had set aside for the icey.

IF YOU WANT TO KNOW THIS GUY PLEASE CONTACT ME @lauradmcbryde on Twitter or again, in the comments here.

Thank you.

Open Letter to Chris Carter of The X-Files

"How To Befriend a Clock" by Laura D

How To Befriend a Clock

Please take your courage and a sock
This is how we'll befriend a clock
Just don't waste time, go grab it's hands
And punch it in the pituitary gland.

You may feel ashamed and stare at your feet
But that's what the sock's for.

By Laura D