On giants' shoulders have I stepped
to gather in the morning sun
and later, after having slept,
I contemplate what I have done.
Adam and Eve
Adam and Eve and the king of the prophets
Went to the palace for tea
Adam and Eve wore their best Sunday fig leafs
The prophet? Seersucker wore he
A Morality Tale
A grievous sin he doth commit
who tryeth to get by with wit.
Forsooth, the truth I'm sad to say
belongeth not to those who play.
Gadzooks, it looks like those who pray
will doeth best on Judgement Day.
An Ode to Lost Love
When last we met
our love was strong
but now, my pet,
your face is wrong.
Talk to me in baby talk.
I'm overcome by sticker shock.
Just one more time around the block
and then I'm staying after school.
I'm teacher's pet and no one's fool.
I'm so hot I'm Mister Cool,
so like as not I'll shoot some pool
then contemplate the golden rule
and lay me down to die a while.
Invigorate me with a smile
and do not dare to touch that dial
or soon you'll miss your loving boy
who more than once has brought you joy
and does not care to rendezvous
with anyone who looks like you
except your sister Mary Lou.
May the morning sun enfold you
in the warmth of its embrace
while your lover runs to hold you
and your days be filled with grace.
Just remember what I told you.
Be a credit to your race.
May the bill of goods they sold you
disappear without a trace.
May the sun shine on your mornings
and your fields be warm and green.
Let the sky above your head be azure blue.
May you heed the grumbled warnings
of the troubled gray machine
and escape the dangers waiting there for you.
When the north wind takes his pleasure
in the darkness of the night,
the black angel has designs upon your head,
may you quickly take his measure
in the evening's hollow light
and find yourself at home and safe in bed.
I used to like the Brooklyn Dodgers.
I once was friends with Mr. Rogers.
But California ain't so good.
It's not the same old neighborhood.
I go where angels fear to tread.
I rise each day before the dawn.
I'm loud enough to wake the dead.
My bank account is overdrawn.
My name is whispered on the wind.
My face is plastered on the wall.
I cannot seem to find a friend.
You have to walk before you crawl.
Wild and woolly
Wind me like you wind a watch
Kiss me, Bubba
Time to crank it up a notch
Sneak a peak-o
Drinking up my favorite scotch
Now I gotcha
Let's get touchin'
Put a blot
On my escutcheon
Take me, Circe
Throw me like a bocce ball
Bought myself a swatch of cotton
"otch" rhymes gone or else forgotten
I've botched this poem, crotch and all
Of love I give a measured dose,
intimacy's price, gladly paid.
Some of these and some of those,
pleasure's silent serenade.
And in return, here's what I ask,
a hand to hold, a kiss to give.
Gently wakened to the task,
I stand here bold, one life to live.
It's time to dance the wild fandango
take a chance and munch a mango.
Crunch a bunch of dipsy doodles.
Garnish them with pasta noodles.
Seven times I hit the sack
and seven times it hit me back.
Now I sit here tired and bruised.
My mind is wired to be abused.
I once aspired to be amused
but now I find it's just too hard.
I am resigned like Kierkegaard
to wandering the boulevard
and pondering the universe,
a victim of the mummy's curse.
The bad times now are turning worse.
The good times but a memory,
a shadow of what used to be.
So come my dear and dance with me.
Let me absorb your energy.
I'll twirl with you until the dawn
and then, my girl, suppress a yawn.
The world undresses on the lawn.
A single kiss and I am gone.
Elemental my dear Watson
park your Datsun in the hot sun
get some, got some
but what's a flot and what's a jet
you sot, you ain't seen nothing yet
I bet that only yachtsmen spots 'em.
Tell me the truth, Dr. Ruth
Was it as good for me as it was for you?
Are you laying back or are you coming too?
Are you playing dead or are you coming to?
Was once enough or are you coming two?
Come fly with me you hunk of burning sex
Beware of aftershocks or negative side effects
Help me Hannah, hang my head.
Have a heart and come to bed.
Huddle up with Uncle Fred
and cuddle in with baby Ted.
I can't remember what I said
but it sounded too simplistic.
Let's all move down to Mystic
and wander round the rocky coast,
raise a glass and drink a toast.
I'm normally not one to boast
but bragging just don't make it so,
so hold on tight and don't let go.
Just spend the night and fill my soul
with silent sounds
and make me whole by leaps and bounds
and tie me down with masking tape.
Do not allow me to escape.
I'll spend the night until it's right
then turn around and head for home
if only I can find my comb
and brush my hair.
So have a care or two or three
and spend the night with only me.
Extricate me if you please,
my mind is caught, my hands are not,
but I've been taught to bend to reason
and it's so hot this summer season.
My spot is not to rot or freeze.
I've sought and fought for guarantees
and bought a lot of BVD's.
How Times Change
In Roman times, I wrote my rhymes
Amo, Amas, Amat.
In later years, I hid my tears
Amole, Amouse, Arat.
If at first you don't succeed,
if your pay is chicken feed,
the hounds of doubt have got you treed,
no satisfaction guaranteed,
then stop and turn your life around.
Direct your steps to hallowed ground.
You must obey a different creed
that helps fulfill the gaping need.
What once was lost will now be found,
life's pretender, finally crowned.
I'm As Old
I'm as old as Nova Scotia,
twice as nice as Ile de France,
slick and slim as body lotion,
kiss me or I'll wet my pants.
I'm as dark as Hell's back alley,
painful as an open sore,
"Atlas Shrugged" says Rand-McNally,
heading for the bathroom door.
I'm as green as oleander,
ripe as tripe and soft as sole,
forced to stay, I want to wander,
kiss me Darlin', make me whole.
Sunny skies and tse-tse flies and jumbo shrimps,
gumbo pies and goodyear blimps,
I caught a glimpse of her bedroom eyes,
those limpid pools, the simpering fools
who have no rules but realize, to their surprise,
the whimpering cries, the whispering sighs,
the lows and the highs which oft arise
as telling lies she preens and primps,
careens and limps, and means to scrimp,
then dies and ends this exercise.
Magnficent mantras by women were hummed as
significant sonnets on sitars were strummed.
The heavens were heaving as Johnny was leaving
to lay about London undoing his robe.
While the night sounds were screaming
the cartels were scheming, obviously meaning
to lighten the load.
Abraham and Captain Kidd
tried to do what Katy did.
Isaac and Christian Dior
did what Katy did some more.
Jacob and some other men
did what Katy did again.
When the twelve tribes held their ground,
Katy didn't stick around
to find out if the Bible knew
what Katy did or didn't do.
You ain't seen nothin' yet
I'll make my debut at the Met
Win the lottery on a dollar bet
Single-handedly repay the national debt
Learn to pilot my own Lear jet
Write the Alexandria Quintet
Teach Fred Astaire to pirouette
And Romeo can just forget
'bout kissin' that cute little Juliet
No! No! Nanette! my pet
What I said was not a threat
Tonight let's learn to surf the Net
While the sun is setting
We'll be tete-a-tete-ing
But first, can I bum a cigarette?
Life in the Underworld
Orpheus, amorpheus he
Eurydice, you're rid of me
Persephone's per se a phony
Demeter's demeanor growing stony
Hades hides his eyes with shades
Hell, they all wear rollerblades.
The Lily-pad Lament
The frog-prince cried in silence
in his bedroom down the hall,
his usual grandiloquence
submerged in alcohol.
He reeked of gin and tonics
and his sob became a bawl.
Overcome by histrionics
he hunkered in his shawl.
He choked upon his sorrow
and his voice assumed a pall:
"I'll croak before tomorrow ...
she should have loved me warts and all."
Every man must set a limit,
mark a boundary,
make his stand,
securely lock himself within it,
guard it surely,
fraught with worry,
judge and jury,
with right and might
and sleight of hand.
I was born at an early age, reared in arrears,
blessed by the holy ghost, credit at Sears,
wallowing westwardly, steering unsteady,
awkwardly searching out pseudo-spaghetti.
Meaning is sanctified, taking the measure,
reaching for reverie, lusting for leisure.
I gorge upon goldenrod, pausing politely,
seemingly satisfied, slaloming slightly.
Purpose is ill-defined, horizon gets hazy.
Reason is redesigned. I've gotten lazy.
Mr. Ed Regrets
A horse is a horse unless of course
a horse is a goat which is of note
a goat is a sheep to count to sleep
a sheep is a cow I'm wondering how
a cow is an ass how gross how crass
an ass is a dog who is chasing a hog
a hog is a cat and that's that.
Walking on the beach in Hull,
life's decisions there to mull,
watching a single, circling gull,
catching a momentary lull.
My mind once sharp is growing dull.
My cup is now no longer full.
Please help these fields of doubt to cull,
uncertainty at last annul.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
The road to heaven is lined with lust
The raven pondered Athena's bust
While the prodigal squandered his trust
Dorothy rode on a wild wind's gust
The tin man's tears turned into rust
Cowardly lion fumed and fussed
And scarecrow did what a scarecrow must
Oliver begged for a single crust
Jack Horner sat in the corner and cussed
This story has no coherent thrust
But the rhymes are consistent - just
Ode to Kukla
On the way to catch the trolley
I met Kukla, Fran and Ollie.
Ollie's cute and so is Fran
but I think I'll join the Kukla Klan.
Old poets never die
their meters just run out.
Once a Day
Once a day
I have my say
I think nobody listens
Once a week
I rise to speak
And donít care who is missing
Once a month
I speak in tongues
No one solves my riddle
Once a year
Until one man is able
Then I arise to theorize
Try to solve my quandary
Sit down to win the booby prize
And sort my dirty laundry
Sensible shoes and sensitive news,
sentient views and seminal blues,
meaningful clues and meaningless dues,
hardly excuse all the oceans of booze.
Pie a la Mode
A bevy of brazenly big-busted beauties
bombarded Boston with frosting
from frozen fig newtons,
the cute ones, the fruit ones,
some fanciful nude ones
were naughty and haughty
and jaunty and rude ones.
I likened their launchings
to raunchy staunch stonings,
their moanings and groanings
condoning no phonies
with symphonies scoring
and sympathies soaring
above the euphonious, erroneous zones.
Erogenous hottentots homogenized Hollywood,
hating the heartbreak that hastened them home.
Dangerous dancers donated dozens
of curious cousins,
despairing uncaring diverse drivers,
divers in foam that frothed and flowed pie a la mode
and dove from the dome then drove home quite alone.
Polly put the kettle on.
Suki take it off again.
Golly how I rattle on.
Who is left to tattle on?
No, who is right, so let's have tea
Polly, Suki, you and me.
A man of New Guinea
was tall, dark and skinny.
A man of Tahiti
was found to be needy.
A man of the South Seas
did just as he damned please.
A man of New Zealand
had lost all his feelin'.
A man of New Britain
was thinking of quittin'.
And I in my glory
just finished the story.
Get in my car and drive my blues
clear out of town and sing the moon
my song of woe. My feet are flat.
My shoes are long, as is my tune.
My song's flat too. I'm just a clown
who wears clown shoes and smiles a frown.
Robinson Crusoe's Week
Any old Wednesday, I think about foreplay,
inspiring me all day to sit in the sun
where imagining Thursday, a victim of foul play,
is my man Friday who thinks he's the one.
But I know him better, he answers my letter,
and Saturday's hero is still on the run.
Sunday is one day that comes before Monday
and Tuesday's a blue day, a new day undone.
When in Rome
I spoke Italian,
climbed the dome
and rode a stallion,
dug the loam
and ate a scallion.
Travelling does become me so
I turned into a Romeo.
I loved the girls both far and near
and never stopped to shed a tear
until the year I fled in fear
making my way homeo.
Practically nothing can give satisfaction,
and that is my message.
What is your reaction?
Scheherazade was playing God,
Schliemann excavating Troy.
Schopenhauer's view was dour.
Schweitzer's always brought me joy.
Gertrude Stein was but a rose.
Toulouse-Lautrec was short and sweet.
John Brown's body decomposed.
Longfellow had those metric feet.
Monday minds his P's and Q's
Tuesday talks in riddles
Wednesday winks at daffodils
Thursday sits and twiddles
Friday frolics in the sun
Saturday is lazy
Sunday falls asleep in church
The whole damn week is crazy
Shoe Suede Blues
Man of action, man of money,
satisfaction, can of honey,
I'm in traction, ain't it funny.
Let me lie here in the dirt.
I'm just laughing. I'm not hurt.
I'll now reveal the thoughts I feel.
I'll talk - but wait,
My minds confused. I sing the blues.
I've lost my shoes.
My nose is runny.
Sigmund Freud Meets Hopalong Cassidy
Sigmund Freud met William Boyd
and took him for a drink.
No surprise, Freud analyzed
and Hoppy's spurs went "clink".
Higgledy piggledy Gigglely Gidget
There once was a frustrated woman named Bridget
Who made love on a wharf
Seven times with a dwarf
Then encored seven times with a midget
Sonny left me in the morning,
headed out to who knows where.
Is she coming back tomorrow,
love and hope and dreams to borrow,
will she bring me pain and sorrow
and did I ever really care?
As I was going to St. Ives
I met a gal with seven lives.
Every life had seven years.
Every year had seven tears.
Every tear had seven drops.
Aren't you glad this story stops.
On the way to St. Moritz
I met a man who had no wits.
On the way to Santa Claire
I met a man with wits to spare.
Coming back from Santa Cruz
with not a farthing left to lose
I chanced to stop at St. Tropez
and saw these two men hard at play.
Sensitive issues spew forth from the fissures,
onionskin tissues, emission admixtures,
fusion, confusion, and legions of lesions,
leisurely lying, applying the lessons
of highly-mixed blessings, belying the message,
decry the messiah, come nigh me Delilah,
I'm high as the Rockies, the taxicab jockeys,
erotic page turners, exotic bun burners,
I'm stoned on the runway and ready to fly.
Some strange things are done for love
Some stranger things for money
But the strangest thing I've ever done
Is sitting naked in the noonday sun
With a mad dog and an Englishman
And a slender green-eyed honey
Now the mad dog went berserk and howled
The Englishman caught his fancy
Soon they went for tea and a scone
Leaving me and the green-eyed babe alone
She said "My friends all call me Joan
But you can call me Nancy"
Sunk in a Funk
Here I hunker in my bunker
my clunker, a piece of junk outside,
donut dunker, stink, stank, stunker,
drunker than a skunk, I'm fried.
I bought this tee-shirt yesterday
Cause I kind of liked the rhyme
On the front "So many women"
On the back "So little time"
On the front "I'm so outspoken"
On the back "I'm just a mime"
On the front "I love Rosemary"
On the back "I just have thyme"
On the front "From the ridiculous"
On the back "To the sublime"
On the front "I love spaghetti"
On the back "I'm pasta my prime"
On the front it says "Ghostbuster"
The back is green with slime
On the front there is a paradox
On the back a paradigm
On the front "No sea's too wide to swim"
On the back "No hill's too steep to climb"
On the front "Good poetry's an art"
On the back "Bad poetry's a crime"
A drama with a dromedary,
I bought a camel at the Camelot.
It was more than I could carry
and, oh, that desert sand is hot.
Sally lives at the edge of town
Billy lives at the edge of brown
Mary lives on the edge of down
I just live at the edge
Sally knows how to stop on a dime
Billy knows how to keep good time
Mary knows how to crawl in the slime
All I know is the edge
Sally stands in the sun with a smile
Billy stands with a certain style
Mary stands on her hands all the while
I'm just standing on the edge
The Golden Rule
When good just doesn't get it done
and better clearly doesn't make it
then do the best that you can do
or fake it.
The Happy Meal
I went down to McDonald's
to get myself a happy meal.
I supersized my drink and fries
when suddenly I realized
the secret of the universe
was lying there before my eyes.
All I ever have to do
is supersize my love for you,
supersize the way I feel,
supersize my sex appeal.
What's fake we often take as real.
We make so much of such a deal.
So supersize and supervise,
be super wise, tell super lies,
bake super pies, wear super ties
then life becomes a super steal.
In telescopes I like the Hubble.
I sneaked a peek and got in trouble.
Now I'm running on the double.
My rhymes are cunning, often subtle.
NASA kicked me off the shuttle.
That's why I lie here in the rubble.
Why'd they have to burst my bubble?
The Killing Fields
Matricide you kill your mother.
Fratricide you kill your brother.
Patricide you kill your father.
Suicide you needn't bother.
Regicide you kill your king.
Pesticide can save a sting.
Spermicide you kill a sperm.
Wormicide you kill a worm.
Germicide you kill a germ.
I kill them all from A to Z.
The Price of Royalty
The Prince of Wales
puts on his tails
and hastens toward the door.
A cab he hails,
his fate bewails,
the Princess always wanted more.
And when he fails
to trim his sails
he's chastened to the core.
out hunting grails
convince the Prince
to climb the fence,
his confidence restore.
The Status Quo Isn't What It Used To Be
Meet me in the alley, Sally
Meet me after the show, Bo
Meet me at the rally, Ali
Remember to go with the flow, Joe
Kubla Khan and Andy Capp
Went down to the corner bar
Kubla Khan's a truthful chap
And Andy Capp's a liar
Betelgeuse may be a star
And not what insect's spit
A farthing may not go too far
And physically I'm phit
A rascal and a pretty girl
Went down to the sea at Surrey
The rascal wanted to dive in the surf
The girl was in no hurry
The Story of my Life
I've never seen a purple pig
Nor heard his oinky mutter
But I've read lots of purple prose
While wallowing in the gutter
The truth is what will set me free
but that implies that all my lies
will finally imprison me.
The chain of lies will seal my fate,
each link, in sync,
my little truths invalidate.
The Used-Life Lot
Let's go down to the used-life lot
to look at pre-owned lives.
They come in automatics
or manual with overdrives.
The faith is fading with the paint
awaiting fate with no complaint.
Kick a tire and check for dents,
signs of former occupants.
Fluids low and high in miles,
sign of sorrows, trace of smiles,
brakes are fading, grinding gears
shifting slowly through the years.
Let's take a test drive, try the wheel,
haggle some then make a deal.
Used-life salesman, what a jerk!
This life needs some body work.
Now I've made the trade with fate,
agreed upon the purchase price.
Low down payment, finance rate,
this new life is twice as nice.
As my new-found life and I
pull out into the passing lane,
suddenly, I donít know why,
the tires begin to hydroplane.
Exhilaration turns to fear.
I sense a sudden, fatal flaw,
and as I hit the final gear
I hope that there's a lemon law.
Hometown heroes, weekly papers,
rags that sell at local stores,
county news, opinion shapers,
who's getting in each other's drawers,
births and deaths and crimes and capers,
truths and lies both mine and yours.
Things You Lose
What! Lost your mittens, you naughty kittens
Then you shall have no pie.
Lost your way, you lame-brained spay
Then you'll just sit and cry.
Lost your ticket, you dense-witted thicket
Then you shall have to walk.
Lost your mind, you cow's behind
Then you shall mewl and squawk.
All that glitters is not gold
Quitters never win the race
Heavy hitters often miss
Litterbugs can trash the place
Baby sitters watch TV
Counterfeiters fake a buck
Every critter has his day
Embittered man is out of luck
Acquitters let OJ go free
Admitters often go to jail
Remitters have enclosed a check
Crime committers post their bail
Atom splitters make mushroom clouds
Banana fritters away the time
Pitter patter baby feet
Tobacco spitters end this rhyme
At the top of the world,
at the top of my game,
a "top o' the morning" to you, Sir.
As the flag is unfurled,
as you call out my name,
it's late and I haven't a clue, Sir.
Tort and Retort
For conduct unbecoming,
I think I soon be going.
But as I leave I start to wonder
what's the influence I'm under,
for I may stand before the bar
and twinkle like a little star.
A common trait that problem drinkers
share with ponderers and thinkers,
is the need to find solutions,
And if it may so please the court,
let me begin my last resort.
I shall compose a triolet
(or is it called a triolay)
I'm not a shrinking violet
I shall compose a triolet
but to which tongue do I owe debt
Anglicized or en francais
I shall compose a triolet
(or is it called a triolay)
VCR's and televisions,
get 'em at the discount store.
Try to choose and make decisions,
i.e. caveat emptor.
Zenith. Mitsubishi, Sony,
I can never telephoney.
What's the difference -
I can't say.
Melancholy Stan and Ollie,
Polly would you pour the tea?
Buddy Holly caught the trolley.
He'll be home by half past three.
But, by golly, where is Dolly?
Is she out in Tennessee?
Oh the folly, she's with Wally.
She ain't here with jolly me.
Fits and starts and auto parts
and pretty maids all in a row,
king of swing and queen of hearts,
yesterday's child is yet to grow,
tomorrow's man emerging slow,
sit you down and take a blow
and horses go before the carts.
In time the tides will ebb and flow
and I am looking high and low,
leaves to rake and lawns to mow.
Divorces are the source of smarts,
philosophies like Jean Paul Sartre's,
rhapsodies the mood imparts,
running nude he flits and darts
and finally stops the show.
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