March 31, 2015

Beauty

(Beauty)

Beauty is only deep as skin.
So say those,
whose skin
is thin.

March 26, 2015

Happiness

(Happiness)

Money can't buy happiness.
But it sure helps to pay your bills.

Can't Think of The Word

I came so very close.
To find a sound alike.
A word to end this poem,
and make it sound just right.
I tried but couldn't do it.
I just wasted all my time.
If never found the word,
to make this poem work.

March 24, 2015

Leading A Horse

You can lead a horse to water,
but you can’t make him
put on a bathing suit.

Early







Early to bed and early to rise,
rarely lets one see,
the night time skies.

March 23, 2015

No Haste

Haste makes waste.
Waste not, want not.
So procrastinate,
and you’ll have
a lot.

March 21, 2015

Man And Fish (an addled adage)

Man And Fish

 
 
 
 
 
Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day.
Teach a man to fish and you'll not seem him again on weekends.

March 20, 2015

Handy Birds (an addled adage)

Handy Birds 
A bird in the hand,
would usually prefer to be doing something else.

Cents (and addled adage)

Cents 
A penny saved is not worth a wooden nickle,
but two pennies saved makes cents.

March 13, 2015

My Unused Award Acceptance Speeches

While rummaging through my old sock drawer. (Where I keep my old socks for special occasions.)
I found an envelope that contained some acceptance speeches I wrote long ago, for major awards that I
never had a chance of ever winning.
But I’ve always have been one who believed in being prepared.
So as reality has replaced the delusion of youth,
I would like to present for your reading pleasure,
and because I never let anything go to waste,

My Unused Award Acceptance Speeches








The Academy Award
Thank you, Thank you.
This is a complete surprise.
I never imagined this could happen.
I wish I would have written something down just in case
something like this unlikely event would of occurred.
I guess I’ll just have to wing it.
There are far too many people I need to thank for getting me to this
place in my life.
I’ll not try to name them all at this time.
You know who you are.
I would just like to thank the members of the Motion Picture Academy for voting for me.
And I would like to take this opportunity to announce my fees have just went up.
Thank you.






The Grammy Award
Thank you.
I never thought my album of Gregorian Dubstep Polkas
would even be nominated, let alone win this prestigious award.
In this day and age, where form often is more important than substance,
it is often difficult for the public to keep up with all the latest styles and trends.
My winning of the Grammy brings my music to the attention of many people
who like to keep abreast of the latest “Hip” thing.
To that end may I recommend buying several copies, or downloading from the website address the good TV folks are
superimposing below me right now, collections of my music, so you may keep up on the latest popular trend in music,
and newest trend setter, and hipster, me.
You may also while you’re at it, get copies of my previous works so you can appreciate the progression and
artistic qualities of my music.
I also have cds and various paraphernalia at a table set up in the lobby.
I’ll be more than happy to sign any purchased item or pose for pictures for a small fee.
Thank you again.

The Tony Awards
Thank you so very much.
What a thrill to win the Tony.
An award that I always felt was so appropriately named for the theater.
As a thespian treading the boards one comes across so many Tonys,
stagehands, hairdressers, angry union bosses.
It just sums up that certain “Je ne sais quoi” that even the lowest peon of the theater possess.
Of course the Tony opens the door to opportunity that most in the theater arts seek.
The chance to appear on television and movies.
I already have an offer for a reality show and possibly a film.
So I thank you, and bid you “au revoir”.





The Pulitzer Prize
I would like to thank the judges for selecting me to
win this years Pulitzer Prize for writing.
Since the conquest of Earth last year by our benevolent Alien overlords,
it has been necessary to combine all categories of the Pulitzer into one single award.
I am deeply humbled to win as a representative of all writing this year.
Of course I can’t help but think that I seem to be the only known writer still in existence since our other worldly
masters have outlawed writing and punished with extinction any found engaging in it.
Still I find it gratifying to know you believed that I would have the bravery to accept this award,
knowing that revealing myself as a writer would subject me to capture and extermination.
I also find it humbling to realize how many of you deeply desired that I be singled out for this distinguished honor.
I will cut this short because I think I hear approaching alien war machines.
But from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Missing Letter

I’m writing this poem,
without one letter.
Not using it,
does not seem better.
But I thought I’d try it,
without sounding cliche.
This whole rhyme is written,
without the letter ”  “.
 

March 11, 2015

Dog Dodging

Now that the winter snow has begun to melt,
and the frozen dirty white remnants of ice and slush has been reduced to the height of my shoulders,
I have resumed my routine of a morning walk around my neighborhood for exercise.
It’s a nice suburban neighborhood. I’m only a couple of miles away from farmlands and a large county park.
But for convenience sake I choose to take a quick thirty minute perambulation around the block.
The first three-quarters of a mile is up a gradual incline. The last quarter requires me to carry a safety parachute.
It can be a quite a pleasant little walk. I enjoy the sound of the chirping birds that can occasionally be heard beneath the sounds of trash pickup trucks, road repair crews and passing jet air traffic.
I start my walk immediately after the last school bus has picked up its load of unhappy children for the morning.
I don’t want to walk by kids waiting for their bus.
Hovering parents automatically assume I’m a kidnapper and keep one hand on some hidden weapon under their coats.
Or sometimes after I pass these young whippersnappers,
I discover my back is covered with post-it notes that say “kick me!”
It’s amazing how many people in the supermarket later on actually follow that advice.
For reasons I don’t understand, three out of four homes in this neighborhood own dogs.
The big dogs force their owners to take them for a walk in the morning.
The little ones just look out the window and “yip yip yip” at anything they spot moving.
So as I casually stroll through the neighborhood I activate the sound of barking from each house I pass.
Now the big dog owners have been forced to walk their canine overlords all winter long.
They’ve had to trudge through the arctic tundra for the privilege of watching an animal relieve itself.
Now that I have arrived on the scene I have disturbed the routine.
With disgust they look at me as they are forced to wait for me to pass,
or they turn the other way in order to avoid potential liability from their pet using me as a chew toy.
Why does everyone have these dogs?
I could see a little dog.
A Chiwawa, Toy Poodle or Shih Tzu. (Coincidentally that was the name of a folk rock group in the sixties.)
But a big dog needs room to run. A larger yard than those that are in this neighborhood.
Maybe something the size of Montana.
Then to add to the joy of walking these beasts, the dog walkers must scoop their pets’ friendly deposits up and carry them with them.
Usually in a bright orange bag.
I can tell you from experience, it’s embarrassing to be seen carry a brightly colored bag of poop.
I can’t imagine having to walk a dog too.
But after passing the grumbling dog walkers I continue on my morning walk enjoying the sound of aircraft, waste removal and dogs barking from windows.
As I approach the hill that leads down to my home. I hear from the last house before a small stretch of woods, a sound that goes “GARLOWGRRWOOF!”
This sound strikes fear into my heart. For this is the house, whose owner for reasons that defy sanity, has the rare canine breed, The Mammoth Bear Hound!
I saw it once. Usually it is kept indoors and either trucked somewhere for walks, or it’s only let out at night.
But on this day it was out in the front yard.
Its master dangling two feet off the ground by a chain connected to its collar of iron.
Standing ten feet tall. With a slobbering head full of drool and teeth four feet wide, this beast could swallow me in one bite.
Fortunately it appears to be friendly. But I think if I got close enough to feel its affection I would still require an ambulance.
I tried to appear nonchalant and calm as I passed. Never making eye contact. As its master pleaded with it to sit, stay, let him down, anything.
I’m happy to report, whatever the eventual result of all the growling and noise was behind me was, I made it home safely.
I’ll be out tomorrow for another walking adventure.
As I walk, if the noise subsides long enough for me to think, I’ll probably think,
“I like dogs. I’d like to have a dog. But I’m not going to get one.”

March 10, 2015

Pondering Pounds

Recently I’ve lost a few pounds.
I don’t mean as in “I visited Great Britain and misplaced my money.”
No I mean as in “I lost weight.”
“I lost weight” is a phrase that confuses me.
I didn’t lose it. I didn’t misplace it.
I know where it went.
I could easily find the missing pounds with little effort.
Heck, I purposely tried to get rid of it.
So “losing pounds” doesn’t quite describe it.
I didn’t “shed some weight” either.
I didn’t just fall off me like hair from my balding head.
“Watch where you’re running kids. You might trip over some of Daddies blubber that’s falling off.”
No shedding occurred here.
This was part of a plan I had. To get myself into better shape.
Not that I was fat. At least not by American standards.
Although once while passing a monastery I got into a discussion with an old monk.
He described me in Latin as “Qui Obturat Solis”.
I looked it up later. It means “He who blocks the sun.”
I admit my silhouette bothered me.
It looked like an upright football with legs.
So I decided to buckle down and lose enough weight that could move my buckle up.
My goal was to get to the weight I had in my twenties.
More importantly, to feel like I used to feel in my twenties.
So to kick start a lifestyle change into gear I needed to diet.
Now I have dieted before.
I’ve done the cabbage soup diet. (You don’t actually lose weight. It’s just the gas you have makes you seem lighter.)
The Atkins Diet (A favorite of mine in the old days. You can eat a herd of cattle in one sitting and still lose weight. But if you eat a grape You expand to Hindenburg size.)
And countless others.
The one thing my diets didn’t successfully do was teach me to eat less.
Especially the Atkins.
So I decided to try the one diet I never tried before.
The good old fashioned “Counting Calorie” diet.
You know the one, “eat less calories than you body uses.”
It’s easier than ever because of apps you can download to your smart phone or pc.
You can scan barcodes of prepackaged meals.
Or just have a food diary on hand to always be able to mark down how much you’ve eaten.
And it really works.
The reason it does is because you get so sick and tired of trying to measure and record all the food you want to eat,
That you end up saying “The heck with it I won’t eat anything!”
Actually it’s not quite that bad.
Close, but it’s worth it to see the results.
I’m learning to get used to eating less. I’m starting to exercise again.
And I would like to report that first time in many decades I’m feeling again like I did in my twenties.
I had forgotten what that felt like.
But now I remember.
That feeling is called…Hunger!
I remember now. I was always hungry when I was in my twenties.
Back then I could eat a box of Hostess HoHos’, a gallon of Ice cream and a couple of sandwiches,
And burn off all those calories by washing a spoon.
Now If I drive by a restaurant, I have to loosen a couple of notches on my belt.
But as you get older your metabolism slows down.
So your body allows you to eat less.
Basically one is slowly becoming a turtle.
They say this extends one’s lifespan. (like a turtle)
Or at least it makes life seem longer.
But I am sticking with it.
I consider myself a thin person wearing a fat suit.
Time to change my outfit.
Time to get fit.
But first I have to figure out how much I can fit into my mouth before going over today’s’ calorie limit.

Writing Much Gooder

Since I’ve begun to write regularly, I’ve been attempting to hone my style and improve my writing.
Then again just because one sharpens mud,
it doesn’t mean you have a spear.
But ever since I received my first positive response,
I’ve become more addicted to writing
than an Amish Man using an indoor toilet in winter.
(I apologize to all the Amish for that last statement.)
Seeking to improve my writing skills I have sought various internet books and websites entitled “Seeking To Improve My Writing Skills”.
After much research I have ascertained common advice from various sources.
One bit of advice that I was drawn towards, (because it was the easiest to do) was to read and study authors whose style is something I’d like to aspire towards or emulate.
Two writers quickly sprung to my mind and I went to their websites to take a good long look at their work.
Now this is where I should name these writers and provide links to their websites so you may also enjoy their work.
But if I do that it is unlikely you’ll come back to finish my own article.
So take my word for it. They write real good.
Both of these guys are humorists and I noticed some similarities between them on their websites.
They have heaps of awards, Pulitzer prizes, bestselling books, movies made from their writing, basically, everything I’d like to have with a lot less work or time.
In college both of these authors were English majors.
I wasn’t even an English sergeant.
This puts me at a slight disadvantage.
I majored in computer science.
Or as I like to call it “Linguistic Archaeology”.
That’s because all the computer languages I learned to program are dead and extinct.
But I can fix the Cobol on your mainframe in case Y2K shows up late.
But back to the path of these successful writers.
One thing that they did that seems to be a springboard for writing success, recognition and syndication, was to write a regular column for a newspaper.
This is something that is becoming almost impossible to do.
There are maybe a dozen or so major newspapers left in this country, and their numbers are dwindling every day.
One reason for the decline of newspapers is the rise of the internet.
People no longer turn to newspapers as they once did. They often spend their time reading columns by untrained non-English majoring hacks who also have a blog.
I thank you for that.
But how does one grow an audience?
Besides befriending and commenting on every blog,  post and Craig’s List ad you come across?
If you know, let me know.
In the meantime I will keep researching, trying to improve, trying to figure out how to make money doing this,  and writing purely for the love of it.
I appreciate your reading, and I ask you to join with me on this literary adventure.
Tickets are half price if I have a partner.