Are labor-making devices
Learning comes so slow
It seems there’s little to show
Compulsory, it’s not
But take this thought
Neither is survival, I know
If we think all the same way
It seems to brighten the day
But when we do
I tell you
Someone’s not thinking today
A fanatic’s the kind
Who can’t change her mind
It’s strange
But she can’t change
The subject, either, you’ll find.
Ignore the cheers and laughter
The yells from floor to rafter
Don’t be couth
Just tell the truth
But be sure to leave right after
Only a coward creeps
Approaching infinite deeps
Go for the toss
You know you can’t cross
A chasm in two leaps
If revenge is a thirst
And you’re planning the worst
You can do
To you know who -
Just dig two graves first
Sure, we want to prevail
And to live to tell the tale
But be aware
Failure to prepare
Is preparing to fail
In a life of roses and thunder
Things splitting your world asunder
Take it all in
With a wide grin
For the beginning of wisdom is wonder
He was the man of the hour
But now our feelings sour
For the measure of a man
Is no more than
What he does with power
Truth only distracts
From how life impacts
Yes, truth, I say
Is, in its way
Far more important than facts
Fact’s one thing, truth’s another
Don’t confuse one with the other
Hey, forsooth
Fact is to truth
Only a cousin, not a brother
The revolt went without a hitch
Musta satisfied someone’s itch
The rich, for sure
Ended up poor
But the poor somehow never got rich
Accomplishment’s a clue
When the world measures you
Like gold panning
It takes more than planning
What you’re going to do
Every day I read
How democracies bleed
Hope, defeated
Their people cheated
By the forces of organized greed
I watch the news and sigh
So many questions “why”
So don’t think it odd
If I trust in God
But keep my powder dry
****
Chapter 6: Not-So-Deep Thoughts
Gotta stop thinkin' and drinkin' at the same time, I guess.
I don’t like to blab
But some days I’m a crab
I get mean
And almost obscene
In winter when days become drab
Watching TV news
Would incline one to the blues
So I turn on an ad
With some guy really glad:
Hey, I have the right to choose!
Hey my heart was breakin’
Craving eggs and bacon
So I started bitchin’
Now my wife’s in the kitchen
But I wonder what she’s really makin’
You don’t have to be swift
To know food’s a gift
But, however sweet
You shouldn’t eat
More than you can lift
She reads then follows your lead
Music, life set the speed
Less than romance
Tango’s more than a dance
Bound together – and freed
As I get older each day
I’ve changed in one sure way
Happy, to listen, I be
To those, you see
Who don’t have much to say
Verbal sparring’s my delight
But people just take flight
The reason, you see
Must surely be
That I’m so always right
Trip on a crack
Go down with a smack
Watch the blue sky
And birdies go by
And enjoy life, down on your back
Of course I don’t react!
My life has been only an act
You think you see
The mask that is me
It’s not, as a matter of fact
For five days God made; inspired
Stuff much admired
Peanuts and wine
Turned out fine
But humans –
You don’t do so good when you’re tired
The way you say, “ah!”
When you take off your bra
Makes me think, honey
We can save money
And cancel that trip to the spa.
I’d bet my only daughter
There’s not much wetter’n water
It’s good for drinks
Hockey rinks
And a home for the wily otter.
The meaning of life, my son
When all is said and done
You’ll enjoy it best
And get more rest
When you learn there is none
Knowing what humanity’s at
I’ve decided that
The more I see
Of how things be
The more I like my cat
“Money talks; you’ll see”
I cannot disagree
I’ve learned it talks
And also walks
Because it said “Goodbye” to me
No jumping to conclusions –
That creates illusions,
Keep silent, men
Listen, then
Draw your own confusions!
Amid craziness and lies
It’s foolish to be wise
Have the guts
To just go nuts
And join the rest of the guys!
I’ve often thought that
Life would be flat
If we walked around
Not making a sound
With nothing to grumble at
You, son, can still get fame
Have people remember your name
With a bit of C4
One kilo or more
And someone, of course, to blame
Following a crazy master
They run a road to disaster
Don’t they know
Even limping slow
On the right road is faster
No advice I spurn
But consider it in turn
For no-one yet
Have I met
From whom I could not learn
Ah, madness in spring
Is a fine old thing
Just a bit
Will do it
For commoner or king
A little learning, I thought
Often don’t mean squat
But find, I do
A lot of ignorance, too
Ain’t either all that hot
Folk songs (it’s true)
Will rehabilitate you
If you’re willin’
To hear some Dylan
And a lot of James Gordon too
My life? I tell ya, kid
Was sorta like a squid
Wearing a paper skin
And learning the violin
In public, while I did
The tyranny of TV news
Can drive a guy to booze
I find I’m caught
In whatever thought
That
they carefully choose
God bless Edison tonight
If he hadn’t got things right
We’d all be
Watching TV
Only by candlelight
Retirement – I could go thru
All the things I intended to do….
I thought I’d have time
But now I’m
Busy with nothing to do!
The advice is over the top
“Hey! Slow down! Stop!”
But by middle age
My advising sage
Is, alas, my doctor, not a cop
Is that three buxom lasses
Trapped in pure molasses?
Oops, just some trees
Swaying in the breeze...
But I'm glad I found my glasses
Retirement’s not like a shelf
Where you live like an old garden elf
There’s plenty to do
At least, if you
Can learn to live with yourself
What’s this year to me?
It’s when I learned to BE
To accept and forgive
Then laugh, love, and live
Like no one could see
In middle age you’ve got
More lukewarm than hot
You can do as much
Of work and such…
But would rather not
Money- I could live without it
Ah! Don’t you doubt it
The trouble, you see
Isn’t me
It’s that the world is crazy about it
****
Chapter 7: More Not-So-Deep Thoughts
Computers someday, I’ve read
Will think like a human head
But the danger is real
That someday we’ll
Think like computers instead
Anchored in nonsense are they
I guess they’re happier that way
Than to make a boat
That might float
On some seas of thought today
To yourself be true
My son, for if you do
Every man
Will know he can
Put his trust in you
I look back on the year
Add up each laugh and tear
It wasn’t that bad
Really, I had
Nothing to fear but fear
O my boss, you’ve
Had the luck to move
To your Incompetence Level
And the Devil
Will be happy to approve
My boss, that jerk
Loves each management perk
Like setting my goals
With bizarre controls
Making it difficult to work
Oh, how I dote
On the books I never wrote
Published works
Are just for jerks
And some hungry goat
I really feel some fear
When I look into the mirr
Or when I go to
My recent photo
I can really use a beer
I’m not really a smartee
A failure at repartee
The perfect words, you see
Always come to me
Just after I’m a departee
A better artist you’ll be
Without reality
If you change into truth
In a telephone booth
And shut your eyes to see
Never pentacostic
Not even acrostic
Life’s as much sense
As a butterfly fence
And that’s why I’m an agnostic
I see you’ve been getting hell
“What a loser!’ they yell
Ignore the booing –
If it’s not worth doing
It’s worth not doing well
Cats fight, I’ve found
The fury much renowned
Fur will fly
Makes me wonder why
There are so many kittens around
In living day to day
Some wisdom comes my way
Like (I concede)
If at first you don’t succeed
Give up skydiving, I say
****
Chapter 8: Seasonal and Outdoorsy
Starting with that late-winter restlessness, and moving on to mountain biking.
Outside, winter proceeds
The birds are into the seeds
And I keep a beer
Cold, and near
We’re fulfilling their personal needs
Water, from rooftops, flow!
Melt, you grungy old snow!
I prefer my bicycle
To the prettiest icicle:
It’s been a fine winter, but – go!
Water, from rooftops, flow!
Melt, you grungy old snow!
I prefer my bicycle
To the prettiest icicle:
It’s been a fine winter, but – go!
Twiddle-dee-dee
Water breaks free
I say, heart-felt
That an early melt
Is more than alright with me.
Ivory hills of snow
Turn to water, I know
Well, I’ll remember the white
Some summer night
By the campfire’s glow
You, February, I won’t miss
Not a pleasant month, this
Take your cold and snow
And as you go
I bend over, blow you a kiss.
Old photos and beer, that beats a
View out the window that greets a
Guy getting cheer
From a two-four of beer
And another big slice of a pizza.
Water’s movement seems
To hold the season’s streams
And in the rain
I learn again
The seaward flow of dreams
Find the gear, find the pace
Avoid trees, find space
Forgetting trouble
Intense in my bubble
And a grin all over my face
The troubles of the year
Just disappear
Mist of the morn
One guy reborn
In wheel, pedal, and gear
Immoveable pillars beside
A dirt snake ten inches wide
The trail twists; I grin
Glad to be in
This forest rodeo ride
The drive, the mud, the rain
The slip, the crash, the pain
I get up, then
Start again
Someone around here’s insane!
****
Chapter 9: The Arts
Cruelly real, or abstract
Not always rife with tact
Poetry grows
Like a rose
Finding in imagery, fact
Away the orchestra floats
The audience puts on their coats
Do they know, of the art
The largest part
Was found between the lines?
Art’s an interest, you say
Something you’re doing today?
If in doubt
Stay out
Art’s not a thing, it’s a way!
The quality of art, you state
Is a matter of debate
No! Any art
Is always part
Of a revolt against Man’s fate
Art should cross fences
Laughing at pretences
Spicily seasoned
A carefully reasoned
Derangement of the senses
Half of music’s no more than
Whispers from the Great God Pan
Notes are seeds
From his reeds
Loving chaos his only plan
The soul perseveres
Among the café pioneers
/> The writing numbs
A poem becomes
Trouble, drowned in tears
A poem’s a wizened elf
I drag down from some shelf
I shivers my spine
When I write a line
I don’t understand myself
Poetry’s role, I feel
Is never to conceal
Nor to teach
But make each
Truth more truly real
Call her reality’s sleuth
Poking at the aching tooth
Ember and fire
The poet’s a liar
Who always speaks the truth
Into the canyon, a rose
A poet carefully throws
He publishes a book
Try not to look
The effect’s the same, he knows
Hurt, the poet squeals
Writes, a poem, heals
But all that pain
Is just in vain
Unless the reader, too, feels
I write free verse, and yet
Those words I soon forget
If it don’t rhyme
It’s like I’m
Playing tennis without a net
A poet is seldom swayed
By the money he hasn’t made
The income is low
But, you know
Poets are born, not paid
Remember, when you’re bored
Pen – mightier than sword
So write what’s true
Later, we’ll award you
A posthumous award
An artistic dream you’ve nursed
For its glory you thirst
Please take heed –
Of the things you need
Confidence in nonsense comes first
High-ho good fellow
I want a sound that’s mellow
Not one that’s
Like dying cats
So please put away your cello
This instrument’s role
Is distressing one’s soul
A cello’s the wail
Of a guy thrown in jail
For life with no chance of parole
Are you sandpapering a cat?
Well, it sounds like that
That cello’s in pain
But then again
I kinds like where it’s at!
I’m kinda getting uster
Strangling my rooster
And getting mellow
Caressing my cello
And you can’t prove I ever abuseder
Timpani’s the sound of God
Stomping earthly sod
Yelling, “What a bummer!
Every drummer
Is more than a little bit odd.”
Sometimes I think in wonder
That timpani’s thunder
Cries “Vandals! Bent
With cruel intent
On pillage, rape, and plunder”
Is timpani’s thunder
From Heaven rent asunder
And a horse, rough-shod
Carrying God
Rolling this whole world under?
An oboe’s the sound of a duck
Whining about her luck
The kids are grown
Her friends are flown
And she’s about to be hit by a truck
Sounding like the brake of a train
And a guy with little to gain
The cry of an oboe
Is an arthritic hobo
Finding shelter from the rain
An oboe’s a little bit gay
(Not meant in a pejorative way)
But be it known
It wants to be blown
Once, at least, today
**** END of PART ONE****
Chapter 10: The Poems in Tweetable Form
This is part two, which contains the same limericks, but with the line breaks replaced with slashes for easy tweeting.
****Part Two****
****
Politics
It's a cheap thing to dis politicians. So I did.
Democracy’s noisy and blind/The worst system out of man’s mind/The most foolish insanity/Of humanity/Except for all of the others I find.
Our leaders - a curse/Sucking the public purse/It won’t do what it should/But democracy’s still good/‘Cause other systems somehow are worse
Yesterday’s answers, it’s true/Are all he offers you/But he gets your vote/That wily old goat/Every election, on cue
Our leader usually tries/To hide his sense of surprise/When we give a high grade/To promises he made/And believe even one of his lies