The Household Brownie
(tune: Wichita Lineman (Jimmy Webb, 1968;
Sung by Glen Campbell))
I am the lonely household brownie
And I do the chores here
Workin’ in the night for just a sip of beer
I sweep out all the cobwebs,
I polish every doorknob,
And the household brownie is still on the job
I know I need a small vacation
But chores are never done
There are never enough hours from set to rise of the sun
And I need work more than want to,
But this is home to a slob
So the household brownie is still on the job
And I need work more than want to,
But this is home to a slob
So the household brownie is still on the job
National Punctuation Day
Why, Where, and How do you (and yours)
Celebrate in some special way
“National Punctuation Day”?
‘Cause those misplaced marks could cause wars
Wherever one lands/misses in error,
You should study it like grammar.
When a colon, dash, or comma
To break your thoughts in proper parts
Isn’t a matter of whimsy’s arts.
Learning how should not cause you trauma --
Their good usage is guided by rules;
Say what you mean with those small tools.
The Majestic and Wonderful Fred
He came on an elephant astride.
To dismount, down its trunk he did slide.
Why he was there or where he came from --
These questions through our small crowd did hum.
With a flourish of his golden cape,
On the beast’s side he lowered a drape.
The letters glistened and there read,
“The Majestic and Wonderful Fred”
We laughed a bit and politely clapped
As his wand from some silks was unwrapped.
He spoke not a word as he prepared --
A hush settled on us as we stared.
Next a table he pulled from a sack
Which had floated down from his ride’s back.
Out came a chair and napkin and plate --
Then milk he drank and a snack he ate.
Smacking his lips, he packed all back in.
Wand wave to put the sack in its bin.
The curtain rerolled up the beast’s side
And the wand into its silk to hide.
Fred reached up and the trunk came down.
The elephant picked him off the ground.
Again astride his enormous steed,
He strolled away with no show of speed.
Kam and Joe Go to the Hill
Kam and Joe, where do you go
To fix our broken nation?
Get a bill passed through the Hill
Oh, such a great frustration
Push to left, the right’s bereft,
Insists on compensation.
Favor right, the left will fight
Without Mitch’s provocation.
Trillions plus trillions,
For reconciliation.
Tricky plan, we hope you can;
Beware retaliation.
National Cookie(s) Holiday(s)
If you need a holiday
To lead your diet astray,
Some are in the cookie jar
Even though that seems bizarre.
We can start with generic
Before the esoteric --
December 4th, so they say,
Is National Cookie Day
If you favor plain Oatmeal,
April 30 is your deal.
Lacy Oatmeal is your scene?
Your feast is on March 18.
You love the Peanut Butter?
June 12 makes your heart flutter.
Pecan is your nut for fun?
That’s September 21.
Sugar cookies are just fine?
Soon it will be July 9.
Chocolate Chip you like more?
A few weeks ‘til August 4.
Spicy Hermit are your chew?
November 15 for you.
Gingerbread give you a yen?
November 21 then.
Oreo for the can’t-cook?
March 6 gets you off the hook.
If your favorite was missed,
Add your own day to the list.
The Wit of Nonsense
(tune: The Sound of Silence
(Paul Simon, 1964))
Hello, out there, my old friend
I hope to rhyme for you again
Because boredom is on me sinking
And its onset has me thinking
How new memories haunt my brain
With an odd refrain
Of the wit of nonsense
In the weird world I ponder in
Thoughts can make me moan or grin
Twists will unwind under my skull
That might only amuse a laughing gull
But they may blossom and bloom from within
When allowed to begin
To show the wit of nonsense
When I start I do not know
Where the strolling troll will go
Stopping for tea with a witch
Swapping gossip with a snitch
His adventure is in to where he walks
And to whom he talks
With the wit of nonsense
“Friends,” I say, “I apologize;
Nonsense seems a lot like lies;
Read my rhymes that I might please you;
I tease my wits that I might seize you
With a chuckle you did not expect
From the wit of nonsense.”
I know none may clap and praise
All the silliness that I raise
And your brain may flash its warning
That this drivel is for avoiding
And the blog calls, “The words of this poet
Are written just for the fun
And maybe a pun
By a nitwit of nonsense.”
The Age of Asparagus
(tune: The Age of Aquarius
(from Hair, Rado, Ragni, and MacDermot (1967)))
When the grown child is in the parents’ house
And college life confronts Mom’s
Then change will guide her diet
And meat will give her qualms
This is the dawning of the Age of Asparagus
Age of Asparagus, Asparagus, Asparagus
Broccoli and tofu hummus
There are now vegans among us
No more red meat, eggs, milk, or cheese
Only eating from stems and trees
Novel cuisine exhibition
Balanced against malnutrition
Asparagus, Asparagus
When the grown child is in the parents’ house
And college life confronts Mom’s
Then change will guide her diet
And meat will give her qualms
This is the dawning of the Age of Asparagus
Age of Asparagus, Asparagus, Asparagus
Let the vegan, let the vegan in, the vegan in
Let the vegan, let the vegan in, the vegan in
Let the vegan, let the vegan in, the vegan in
Let the vegan, let the vegan in, the vegan in
Oh, let her in, c’mon
Now everybody just eat along
Let the vegan in
Improve your heart and let the veggies in
When you are hungry, have veggies now
Got to let her in your heart and let her diet in
And when you feel like you’ve been mistreated
And cannot live this way
Just open your mouth and sneak ice cream in
Fairy Tales Haiku
Fairy Tales Haiku
Short plot points sketch storyline
Your mind stretch the rest
Erect defenses
Straw/twine, sticks/mud, brick/mortar
BBQ at 8
Bear home invasion
Too Pa, too Ma, Right Baby
Change tonight’s menu
Wood boy, telltale nose
Hard to be good or be real
Splintered persona
Large egg off tall wall
No knights, no horses, no repair
Job for cleanup crew
Girl without stylist
Lonely tower without doors
Just golden hair stair
Forgot to invite
Witch with nasty future curse
Spindle and good night
Queen cheat, not compete
Poison apple for beauty
Seven sad small men
Gala ball for all
Fairy godmom trumps stepmom
Glass slipper wins
Thirsty day for two
Treacherous slope trips them both
Who put well up there
Skinny man, fat wife
No problem, no leftovers
No washing needed
Rodents feel their way
Mistake farmer wife for cheese
Three mouse tails for sale
Girl’s lamb goes to school
Children laugh, teacher eject
Lamb will never learn
What a Wonderful Weird
(tune: What a Wonderful World,
Theile&Weiss (1967)
Sung by Louis Armstrong)
An Anthem for Wonderful Weirdo Day
September 9th
I think tales untold
Out of the blue
I watch them grow
To me they’re true
And I think of myself
It’s wonderfully weird
I write the first line
Unknown what’s next
Out on the keys
Arrives the text
And I think of myself
It’s wonderfully weird
The wonders of our weirdos
Fill the world with delight
Once you’re over the shock
If you look at it right
You see folks shaking heads
Saying “What’s wrong with you?”
They’re really saying
“That’s so cool!”
When I see you try
I see you grow
Weird shows us more
Than what we know
And we think of ourselves
It’s wonderfully weird
And we think of ourselves
It’s wonderfully weird
Oh Yeah
Wonderful Weirdo Day - September 9th
Finally, a day for me --
It’s Wonderful Weirdo Day.
To be as I want to be;
To say what I want to say.
If the neighbors inhibit you
And you hold it back inside,
Your tongue you politely chew
And thoughts you discreetly hide.
But Wonderful Weirdo Day
Is the time you can let go.
Whatever you do today
Is gone with tomorrow's dew.
Today we will laugh with you;
Overlook disagreements.
We cherish your point of view;
Tomorrow’s for aggrievements.
Wingless Eagle, Anyone?
Our politics is a flightless bird,
Wings flap in opposite directions.
It is by design odd and absurd,
Leaning in favor of rejection.
Good ideas are trampled under foot
Even by its ardent proponent.
They start the debates to get input,
Soon bicker over each component.
If one wants this, he does not want that;
All want less, except those wanting more.
But despite all furor in the spat,
Party votes when it comes to the floor.
Majority rule isn’t good enough;
With all balance checked and then knocked off.
Getting the House to agree is tough,
But watch for one Senator to scoff.
But perhaps we do not need to fly;
We can limp along to some effect.
Our too winged eagle can still try;
It’s not fully broken, just hen-pecked.
Homebound Troubadour
I might have been a troubadour
When I was eager to leave home;
To sing songs of news and folklore
Along the far pathways I roam.
It might’ve helped if my singing voice
Was then more than a happy croak.
Folks listened if they had no choice
To that darn singin’ paperboy bloke.
Oh yes, I sang and I performed
Both in the shower and on stage.
But around me then no crowds swarmed;
Of my talent, ‘twas a fair gauge.
Now I’m a silent troubadour,
Comfy nestled in my living room chair.
I may hum a tune, but no more;
You can sing the lyrics I share.
Idle Minds Are a Silly Waste
Subduing grass into a lawn
Is a task to induce a yawn.
My mind let loose by humdrum pace
Switches from off to idly race.
Idle minds are silly for me,
A chance to flee reality.
Perhaps I should ponder deeply,
But instead I buy grins cheaply.
I hear little voices in my head
And catch a bit of what is said.
Some pass with only a low hum;
The unlucky seed a poem.
“My support doesn’t mean we agree;
My vote with you means you owe me.”
“I saw an angel late last night;
Hope it’s not me he came to smite.”
“I love to write a foolish verse;
Although a curse, it could be worse.”
“A llama walks into a bar --
How is this joke going so far?”
I might write one down, once inside,
To find what further it does hide.
Mostly I think me to amuse --
Often it’s my friends I abuse.
So, if I give you, friend, the choice,
Of my exploring of which voice,
Would you dare say which I should grow,
Or simply say, oh no, please, no!
Nobody stopped me, so:
============================
Politics make strange bedfellows,
It pairs up tubas with cellos.
If you think Reps work for your good,
You might not question where they stood.
In the hallway, just yesterday,
I heard one to another say,
“My support doesn’t mean we agree;
My vote with you means you owe me.”
--------------------------
‘Though it might seem best to believe
The stories which the churchmen weave,
Some tales I’ve heard from the pulpit
Were too strange for me to gulp it.
I mean to them no disrespect
If their teachings I must reject.
I saw an angel late last night;
Hope it’s not me he came to smite.
--------------------------
When all I hear is the old clock,
Voices in my brain start to talk.
They fill the silent spaces between
What is now and what may have been.
It seems likely they like to lie,
But, to tell the truth, so do I.
A fudge here and a flourish there
Will give a truth some room to spare.
I love to write a foolish verse;
Although a curse, it could be worse.
I mostly know what I made up,
And let you choose if you will sup.
--------------------------
A llama walks into a bar --
How is this joke going so far?
Said, I meant to be here sooner,
But was dating a vicuna.
Due to arid Andean air,
She doesn't drink very much up there.
She would not come in here with me,
And this is where the joke should be.
--------------------------
National No Rhyme (Nor Reason) Day
It cannot be done, so why try.
Refractory rhymes make us cry.
They just want to be left alone,
Not with words few have ever known.
We might re-elect a Truman,
But with no rhyme won’t a Woman?
Are the spores in that yon Sporange
Ever so slight shades of Orange?
Smash Concord grapes with your Curple
And your butt cheeks will turn Purple.
A hurdle can kill your Spirit,
Or lift it up when you Clear it.
Sweep lung comes from cleaning Chimneys;
Exercise bikes give me Gym knees.
With the “ninth” “month” in the middle,
Win the “silver” “pint” for this riddle.
