Did You See The Polls, DeSantis?
(tune: Fernando,
by ABBA (1976))
Did you see the polls, DeSantis?
Remember long ago when you started your campaign.
In Florida, DeSantis,
You were talking to yourself and softly dreaming you had a chance.
You could hear the future cheers
And sound of music for your inaugural dance.
But you’re no closer, DeSantis.
Every hour every minute seems you drop precipitously.
We are so unsure, DeSantis,
You were young and full of it and some of us decided to try.
We are not too ashamed to say
Your rant ‘bout Woke and Disney we almost thought might fly.
There was something on the air that night,
That debate site, DeSantis.
They were staring there at you and them
For some mayhem, DeSantis.
But you never thought to crack a smile;
That’s a mistake.
If you keep doing the same again,
You’ll lose, you stiff, DeSantis.
If you keep doing the same again,
You’ll lose, you stiff, DeSantis.
He’s old and bad news, DeSantis,
And still many points you trail way behind his lead.
Did you see the polls, DeSantis?
Do you still really think more pampering Trump is what we need?
You can yet call out his lies.
How proud you’ll be to fight for truth and not his greed.
Just say something on the air some night
And show your fight, DeSantis.
We are waiting here for you and them
To discard that phlegm, DeSantis.
Though you may think you could lose,
You need a change.
If you keep doing the same again
You lose, and bad, DeSantis.
Yes, if you keep doing the same again
You lose, and bad, DeSantis.
Can There Be Too Much Bacon?
Grand Old Farmer had a pig;
Started small but grew quite big.
He couldn’t sate his appetite;
Ate all day and through the night.
Farmer tried to rein him in;
But did not want Pig too thin.
With a plan, hoped to try it –
Put that pig on a diet.
But out of his home, Pig ate,
All the food, even the plate.
Chewed all within the house walls,
All the food in all the stalls.
Why won’t Farmer cast Pig out –
Say it’s time to close his snout?
Is he too big to stop now?
Does Farmer not know how?
Itchy Bee
I ask you, how much worse could the worst be
Than a bee with a pollen allergy?
After hours going from flower to flower,
The work sours, itching to get a shower.
Even a slight breeze will cause her to sneeze,
Rattling her body from her head to knees.
It may make her veer to a new career,
But what else there is may still be unclear.
So if you too suffer from a sniffle,
Some medicine may be beneficial.
Then carry on with what you need to do
And be glad that itchy bee is not you.
I’m A Retriever
(tune: I’m A Believer,
Neil Diamond (1966)
Sung by The Monkees)
I wait all day for my boy to come home
Patience may well be my middle name
I want some fun and games
But only have dreams
Recreation is precious, so it seems
I’ll give a ball chase, ‘cause I’m a retriever
Anyplace you throw I will find
I’m your pup
I’m a retriever, tennis ball fever on my mind
You think fetch is more or less a trading game
You throw the ball and I bring it back
What’s the use of giving?
You’ll just throw again
Or try to trick me with a feign.
Let’s have a race, you overachiever,
Keep the pace running ‘round the yard
I’m your pup
I’m a retriever, tennis ball fever on my mind
Oh, you want to get my ball
Not as easy as it seems
You will only catch me in your dreams
Your turn to chase your speedy retriever
Lots of space where we can play
Got the ball
I’m a retriever but I won’t leave her at your feet
Yes, I got the ball ‘cause I’m a retriever
Won’t let it fall without some fun
Said, I’m a retriever, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, not a ball leaver
Said I’m a retriever. yeah, not a ball leaver
I said I’m a retriever, yeah, not a ball leaver
Poetry to the Stars
Sometimes, I think, when in doubt or in love,
We might request some help from up above.
I believe that we could all do much worse
Than write a poem to the universe.
There may be no answer where the stars spin,
But our reflective questions echo within.
Sometimes the answer we already know;
We just need us to say, I told you so.
Maybe I Forgot a Few of These …
There was an old lady who lived for her shoes;
To make ends meet, she inked artistic tattoos.
When her closets were full, she covered the floor.
She had to stop when she couldn't open her front door.
A tisket, a tasket,
Who took my little basket?
It rode on my handlebars
And held anything I asked it.
Baa, baa, black sheep,
In your woolen coat,
Do you have some wool to share
Or are you a selfish goat?
Hey diddle-diddle,
Pancakes on the griddle,
I hope you are done soon.
Syrup and butter are on the table
But I only have a spoon.
Hickory, dickory, drench
Who gave the monkey a wrench?
He’s playing with pipes under the sink -
Hickory, dickory, drench.
Humpty Dumpty sits on a wall -
It’s not a good idea at all.
With a bottom so much too round,
He will soon be smashed on the ground.
I’m a little teapot, full and hot,
Hear my whistle with the steam I’ve got.
If they warn you, heed them you ought;
Burns are lessons you don’t want taught.
It’s raining, it's boring,
We’re stuck here this morning.
Wifi’s down, no fun around,
And the kids just started warring.
The itsy bitsy spider went on the web to play.
Spam pops up to try and spoil the day.
Put up a filter and block that stuff,
Then you can browse - there’s never enough.
Jack and Jill went up a hill
But they couldn’t remember why.
Jack went home the way he’d come
And Jill looked for a new guy.
Jack’s not nimble; Jill be quick!
Jack kicks over the candlestick.
Jill hurry, Jill think fast!
Put it out with a water glass!
Little Bo Peep had lost her lamb;
And she searched all day to find her.
Lamb’s mad at the haircut she had,
So Bo promised to be kinder.
Little Boy Blue, don’t blow your horn.
My head is pounding a beat
And my nerves are all worn.
I am hobbling off to my bed to sleep
And I ask you the peace to keep.
Will you wake me? Don’t you dare!
For if you do, I swear I’ll swear.
Little Miss Muffet had a fine tuffet
Where she sat to eat lunch.
In flew a blue parrot to steal her one carrot,
But she chased it off with a punch.
Mary had a little ham
With sweet yams on the side.
With everything that Mary ate,
No food could ever hide.
One, two, where is my shoe?
Three, four, on the floor.
Five, six, the door sticks.
Seven, eight, I am late.
Nine, ten, in bed again.
Rows, rows, rows of oats
Floating in my bowl.
Cereally, cereally, cereally, cereally
Make my wheat toast whole.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Can you tell me what you are?
Looking through my lens of glass
I see blazing balls of gas.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Keep your fire out there afar.
Wee Willie Winkle sleepwalks at night,
In his pink p.j.’s, he’s quite a sight.
He roams in the hallway, wanders out the door;
You’d think he’d get mighty cold.
Barefoot on the floor.
Little Jack Horner
Tried to warn her
The pizza was too hot.
She emptied her lungs
When she burned her tongue
And then she took off like a shot.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
What you got in the pot?
Oh, Officer, dear,
There’s nothing here.
By you, I will never be caught.
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To get a treat Dog would like.
But she recalled with a stop
That she had forgot to shop
And now her dog is on strike.
Job Interview for Alligator
Some pets stay small for many a year
But not so for an alligator.
When big, he needs to find a career
And see a job evaluator.
He will charm few with his scary leer;
He’d make a frightful educator.
With his toothy grin so insincere,
He looks more like a terminator.
He likes belly and ground to be near;
Thus not a likely aviator.
At sports, he prefers best just to cheer,
But nobody hires a spectator.
Mucky holes that he digs are austere,
He’s not much of a decorator.
His grunts and bellows are harsh to hear
So he’s not singer nor orator.
In water, he is greatly to fear,
An underwater gladiator.
But afoot meals escape with a veer;
He’s not a quick-footed predator.
It seems, at last, no job will appear
For a lazy procrastinator.
He does nothing so well, it is clear.
So he should be a legislator.
In the Woods
In the woods near my home,
As a lad, I would roam.
It seemed big, way back then;
Kids are smaller than men.
So much to see in there;
Visit a friendly bear,
Pirates’ treasure to find,
Many tales fill the mind.
Explored for hours on end;
Whole days there, I could spend.
Back home, asked what I’d done,
Told Mom “No, nothing, none.”
Warts and All
The toad is quite fond of his warts;
You can’t convince him otherwise.
They help to woo cute toadettes’ hearts
And still hide from predators’ eyes.
The skunk revels in his foul smell;
He cares not if it offends you.
He won’t trade for Eau de Chanel;
With his scent, all give him his due.
The slug slides on his oozy slime,
But his goo isn’t an affliction.
It greatly improves travel time
And lowers the force of friction.
You may not want what they possess
And may not know its true value.
When you meet, look beyond the mess,
And they may become your pal too.
Groundhog’s Lament
Were I a woodchuck I would rather stay
Still warm in my burrow on Groundhog Day.
It’s just too cold to go out for a snack –
You want a forecast, read an almanac.
Some wonder why groundhogs are so surly;
You would be too if we woke you early.
His winter plans were just to hibernate,
But then halfway through him we excavate.
We drag him out to ask a fool question;
Let me offer a better suggestion.
If we want a shadow, then ask a tree –
It has no place more comfortable to be.
For more groundhog perspective, see:
Day of the Groundhog
Resolve, Break, Repeat
As time runs out on this year
And to the future I peer,
I think I might do better
With vows myself to fetter.
What did I do not enough
Or too much of some stuff?
Something to improve my health
Or to utilize my wealth?
I recall this from before,
Doing this annual chore.
With the last list I will cheat –
Resolve, break, and then repeat.
Happy 100th, Charles Schulz
We grew up with Charlie Brown
Who never grew up at all.
Simple sketches with heads so round,
A world where everyone’s small.
That did not shrink what they said
Nor decrease their adventures.
Philosophy to fill your head
From Linus’ little lectures.
Sportsmanship needs not a win
Only a persistent try.
Confidence comes from within
And even a dog can fly.
Your friends come in many kind,
Though blockhead some may call you.
But when you get in a bind,
It’s all hands to the rescue.
It may not be all you need
To learn how to cope with life.
But to Sparky you pay heed,
And it’ll get you through some strife.
Home of the Roving Gnome
(tune: House of the Rising Sun)
There is a house way up north in Vermont,
Home to the Roving Gnome.
And many a mile has passed beneath his feet
And, boy, he’s glad he’s home.
His good wife is a traveler –
She books the trips with points.
The willing gnome follows along
To vacation joints.
The only thing a gnome really needs
Is a place to lay his head
And the only time he’s really happy
Is home in his bed
Oh, people, you may enjoy
Around the world to roam.
A gnome may smile but yearns to return
To the Home of the Roving Gnome
Well, he’s had a long trek to the South
And another to the hills.
But now he’s home – for a week –
To recoup from the thrills.
There is a house way up north in Vermont,
Home to the Roving Gnome.
And many a mile has passed beneath his feet
And, boy, he’s glad he’s home.
Greetings from Florida
(tune: Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,
Alan Sherman(1963))
Hello children, little Mia,
Here we are at the Vistana.
The trip south was quite exhausting,
But we hear people back home are still defrosting.
We went driving through Virginia,
It’s no place for a beginner.
First you're flying, then you’re crawling
As you watch the car’s gas gauge just keep on falling.
All the highways are under construction
Or there is some crash obstruction.
And other cars are much faster.
Weaving through the lanes just inches from disaster
Now don’t think other states are better;
Every place has a pace setter.
You’re passed by trucks hauling double
And if you go the speed limit, you cause trouble
Far from home, in sunny Orlando,
Far from home, hablas Esperanto?
We may leave here, sooner or later,
If the pool has an alligator.
Far from home, we fought to get here for so long
And pushed through the traffic throng.
Oh, maybe we’ll just stay,
We’ve had a very nice day.
Northern children, back at home there,
How’s your local weather compare?
We may come home, if you miss us,
Or if the weather here gets too repetitious.
Wait a minute, hurricane warning,
And it's only fifty this morning.
We have paid for this vacation
But even Florida has its limitation.
It’s So Loathsome I Wonder Why
(tune: I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry,
Hank Williams,Sr or Paul Gilley (1949))
See that nightly news report,
Enough to make you cry.
The news from all around the world –
It’s so loathsome I wonder why.
Each night it is more of the same,
It more than makes you sigh.
Crime and war, even politics –
It’s so loathsome I wonder why.
Will we ever see a world of peace,
Love for the other guy?
Will maniacs and madmen leave?
It’s so loathsome I wonder why.
The good of man is hard to see
When evil blinds your eye.
It takes so few to spoil all –
It’s so loathsome I wonder why.
REPLY:
What’s The News?
(tune: Close To You,
Bacharach & David (1963))
Why do moths fatally appear
Every time flames are near?
Like we do, they need to know,
What’s the news?
Why do we turn in day and nights
To see all the awful sights?
Like we do, we need to know,
What’s the news?
From the day that we were born
The world is filled with unknowns
And who knows what troubles will come along
So, we stay alert and feed our fears of old
And hope to avoid all that’s wrong
That is why ‘though it makes us frown
It’s bad news that abounds.
Like we do, we need to know,
What’s the news?
Talk Like A Pirate, Me Fair Laddie
(tune: The Rain in Spain (My Fair Lady),
Loewe and Lerner (1958))
(Cabinboy)
Jest some da rum, sez Mum ‘cos he’s a bum
(Cap’n (to Mate))
Yarrh, Ah think he’s hold o’ it
Yarrh, Ah think he’s hold o’ it
(Cap’n to Cabinboy)
Now, wha’s, ye scum, ta give da bum?
(Cabinboy)
Ah gives ‘em rum! Ah gives ‘em rum!
(Cap’n)
And how much of dat rum?
(Cabinboy)
Jest some! Jest some!
(Cabinboy, Cap’n, Mate)
Jest some da rum, sez Mum ‘cos he’s a bum!
Jest some da rum, sez Mum ‘cos he’s a bum!
(Mate)
Fer bilgerat, brig’dier, and ‘lubber …?
(Cabinboy)
Walk da plank and feed da fishes!
(Cap’n)
Now, wha’s, ye scum, to give da bum?
(Cabinboy)
Ah gives ‘em rum! Ah gives ‘em rum!
(Cap’n)
And why’s ye jest give some?
(Cabinboy)
Sez Mum! Sez Mum!
(Cabinboy, Cap’n, Mate)
Jest some da rum, sez Mum ‘cos he’s a bum!
Jest some da rum, sez Mum ‘cos he’s a bum!
Maple’s Tail
I am just a little wolf
In labradoodle clothing.
You may think I am a goof
When, asleep, I go roving.
But I have the wild instinct,
At least so in my deep dream,
To hunt and prowl my precinct
To maintain my self-esteem.
So I will do tricks for you
And you may feed me your snack.
But don’t think that’s all I’ll do
When I run wild with my pack.
Creature Verses Frankenstein
(tune: You Made Me Love You,
Monaco & McCarthy (1913))
You made me, Victor.
Then you wanted to do it
Later did you rue it
You made me ugly
A monster and you knew it
I guess you always knew it
You made me like this one night
Next day you left me alone
I knew noone and nothing
You left me on my own
You made me sigh ‘cause
I couldn’t even tell you
Everything’s so brand-new
I want some love, that’s true,
Yes, I do, indeed I do, but where are you?
Give me, give me, give me what I cry for
You know if you don’t there are people who’ll die for
You know you owe me, you do.
You made me cry more
So much I might kill you
Or taunt, haunt, and chill you
I wanted some love, that’s true.
No, said you, so said you, so now we’re through
Give you, give you, give you so much to cry for
You know I said people were going to die for
You know you made me hate you
You'll Pay the Fine
(tune: I Walk the Line,
Johnny Cash (1957))
I keep a close watch on this neighborhood
I make sure everyone does what they should
I expect our visitors will be good
But do the crime, you’ll pay the fine
I find it very, very easy to watch you
I’m alert to spot whatever you do
All will be okay if you just pass through
But do the crime, you’ll pay the fine
As soon as daylight turns into dark night
I patrol the streets with my big flashlight
I’ll go home happy if all is right
But do the crime, you’ll pay the fine
You find no place from me where you can hide
Because I have a whole posse on my side
We like it if to the rules you abide
But do the crime, you’ll pay the fine
I keep a close watch on this neighborhood
I make sure everyone does what they should
I expect all my neighbors will be good
But do the crime, you’ll pay the fine
Jogger on Our Street
(tune: (Ghost) Riders In The Sky,
Stan Jones, (1948))
A young jogger went runnin’ out one cold and rainy day
Upon his heels he rested as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty swarm of sharp-eyed guards he saw
Starin’ through their windows there with bile risin’ in their craw
Their stares were hot as fire and their glares were made of steel
Their phones were at the ready and suspicion he could feel
A bolt of fear ran through him as his safety he did doubt
For from their home, out stuck their heads and they began to shout
Hippie-move-along, Hippie-move-away
Strange jogger on our street
Their faces stern, their eyes were tight, and their stances a clear threat;
He’s working hard to catch his breath, but now he’d better get
‘Cause they’ve got to defend their homes, ‘though courtesy they flout,
They’ve got to keep any strangers movin’ through their route.
With the neighbors staring at him, one calls him a bad name
“If you wanna save your butt from jail, trespassing’s not a game.
So, jogger, change your route today, find another way to run
‘Cause if you come this way again, we guarantee you no fun.”
Hippie-move-along, Hippie-move-away
Strange jogger on our street
Strange jogger on our street
Strange jogger on our street
Your Pet Porcupine
When you have a pet porcupine,
You should pat with the greatest care.
There are sharp quills all down its spine
Where most other pets have soft hair.
You should choose too not to snuggle
Or to hug your friend very tight.
Playful wrestling is a struggle
Learning how to hold it just right.
It does not mean you cannot love
Such a prickly little buddy.
Be smart and get a good thick glove
So your hands do not get bloody.
You can with love give it a snack
And perhaps share your toys and balls.
Remember to stay a bit back
And remove the quills from your dolls.
The Light in the Tunnel
The light at the end of the tunnel may be good,
But maybe not so much the one in the middle.
Near the exit the light will be placed where it should,
But the one where it should not be is a riddle.
That is not to say all riddles are bad for you,
Nor that you can avoid all of your life’s tunnels.
You will sometimes need a tunnel to get you through,
Although they will limit your options like funnels.
That unexpected light may be another path
Or somebody coming the opposite way through.
It is best to be ready to redo your math
And change your course when it is what the clues tell you.
But remain thankful for whatever light there be
When you must travel where the darkness is the rule.
Seeing may not be knowing what it is you see,
But shutting your eyes is the practice of a fool.
Little Bear Got Lost
Little Bear woke from her nap
And went for a walk one day.
Noone asked where she would go,
So she simply did not say.
She wandered out the cave mouth
And then out of her front yard.
Someone should have stopped her then,
But nobody was on guard.
There was a scent in the breeze
Which she had not smelled before.
She had to know what it was
And so she went to explore.
She thought it came from the woods,
Somewhere amongst the tall trees.
The scent grew so very strong
That it almost made her sneeze.
Through the whole forest she went
And all the way down the hill.
She had never gone so far
And it gave her a big thrill.
She saw a strange kind of home
Made out of both stone and wood.
That was where the scent came from
And it smelled awfully good.
And through the hole in the wall,
She saw what she was smelling.
Three plates of pies sat out there
On the table in the dwelling.
One plate’s pie had cooled too much,
The big one had a huge bite,
But the small pie sitting there,
Well, it smelled really just right.
Little Bear climbed through the hole
To examine them up close.
‘Though it’s true, she ate all three,
She liked the little one most.
But it had been a long walk –
So tired after her snack –
She looked around for a while
And found three beds in the back.
One was way too tall to climb,
Another not much shorter.
The last was a bit small, but
Strong enough to support her.
And that is where they found her
When the Goldbergs came back home.
The girl wanted to keep her
And to share her brush and comb.
So Little Bear didn’t return
To her lost home in the wild.
Now she wears dresses and bows –
Whatever to please the child.
At last Bear’s parents gave up
And didn’t worry where she went.
And she does get pie each day
And so loves its taste and scent.
So be warned if you wander;
Take care following your nose.
If you eat too many pies,
You may outgrow your doll clothes.
Rose is a Four-letter Word
Rose is a four-letter word,
Risky message may be borne.
What by the receiver heard –
Be its flower or its thorn?
Is any language so pure
The hearer hears what is said?
How can the speaker be sure
What enters the hearer’s head?
Some listen for the right words
And others judge by the deed,
A gift, a walk to see birds,
Or it’s a big hug they need.
Even when you get it right
You may be off the next time.
Better to forgive than fight –
Love may have no perfect rhyme.
Hear the try and not the fail
When the other person speaks.
Hope the same when next you flail
To say the truth your heart seeks.
Whales’ Tales
If you ride a whale today,
I suggest you hold on tight.
Best grip is the tail, they say,
But it still is quite a fight.
Some, I hear, prefer the spout
Way up on the giant’s back.
Be careful when he breathes out
Or you will smell his last snack.
Mighty fins are on the side
And mostly underwater.
Off is so easy to slide,
I do not think you oughta.
Safest is in the belly
If you do not mind the view.
It is also quite smelly –
It may not appeal to you.
Or you might stay on the boat
And not lean over so far.
Let’s obey the safety note –
And all get back to the car.
Goodbye, Mom
I probably should write a poem
To get out of my funk.
Lines with less to whom to show’em –
My readership has shrunk.
She did not take my wits with her
And my love is still here.
She would not want me to wither –
She’d rather that I cheer.
She knew nothing last forever
And tried to teach me so.
Mere death does not our bonds sever –
It was her time to go.
And what she left within myself,
A living part of her,
Is not a trinket for my shelf,
But thoughts of who we were.
So, I must say goodbye and thanks
For all you gave to me.
I’ll think of you in rhyming pranks
And imagine your glee.
