Monthly Archives: December 2012

Deep End Abilities

You coughed, turned your head,
said are my eyes still red?
Some mornings I just can’t get out of bed;
feels like I’m sleeping with the dead.

You laughed, rolled your eyes,
then you cried about the suicide.
Some mornings I just can’t seem to decide;
feels like I want to be denied.

Underneath the rolling thunder,
I sit and begin to wonder:
how to segue to the final number,
how to break the spell I’m under
standing.

You coughed, lit a cigarette,
then wrote some letters to the alphabet.
Some mornings I just can’t seem to forget;
feels like I haven’t happened yet.

You laughed, began to frown,
then you sent a package underground.
Some mornings I just can’t hear any sound;
feels like I’m in the lost and found.

Underneath the quaking ocean,
I sit and think up foolish notions:
how to muster up sincere devotion,
how to make myself go through the motions
again.

You coughed, turned your head,
then asked, “Are my eyes still red?”
Some mornings I just can’t get out of bed;
feels like I’m sleeping with the dead,
or just a worm who’s not been fed.

1992

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The Cow Sutra: a double dactyl

Higgledy-piggledy,
Tabitha Johnson
went to the marketplace
and bought a cow,

spur of the moment,
unpremeditated.
She had no need for it
but owns it now.

Higgledy-piggledy,
Samuel Swanson
met Tabby halfway home
crying the blues.

“What will I do?” she asked,
gesticulating.
Samuel just smiled at her,
and said, “Well, moo.”

19 DEC 2012

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The Legacy: a dizain

Let those you wish to sing your praise
remember not your fabled deeds,
nor cite your methods nor the ways
you solved a problem, met a need.
Reward like this is small, and leads
one to perform for weak applause.
Instead, let those who plead your cause
to future listeners recall how
from where you were, despite your flaws,
you did a thing worth doing now.

19 DEC 2012

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So-Called Simpleton’s Rag: a ditty

Find your feet and clap your hands!
Dig the rhythm of the band!
There’s no need to understand
or to worry where we’ll land.

Raise your voice and sing along!
Make some words up, right or wrong!
You will find that you belong
right here in this happy throng.

Drain your glass and grab another!
Greet your neighbor as your brother!
Now’s the time, there is no other
out there waiting to discover.

Dance, and by gods, leap for joy!
Every single girl and boy!
Nothing on earth can destroy
gladness, if it’s well employed.

Hop and skip, make hue and cry!
Kiss your cares and woes goodbye!
There is no good reason why
not to live before you die.

It’s not much – not cute or pretty,
neither smart nor wise or witty.
For that reason, more the pity,
no one’s bound to like this ditty.

19 DEC 2012

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Join the Circus: a dithyramb

But lo! The circus is in town!
That crazy band of freakish friends
who drink and laugh too much, too loud,
and take leave of their senses:
Tra-la-la-hoo de dah dee lah!

Hey! What dancing they will make,
as down the quiet, sleeping streets
they share their drunken revelry
and celebrate the day, today:
Tra-la-la-lee and lah dee dah!

What? There is no cause for glee?
Such merriment must be misplaced?
But au contraire, my stolid friends!
What better time than this to sing?
Tra-la-la-ho and dosey-do!

Awake! The time is short indeed!
What wine remains is still undrunk,
and there are doorsteps yet to grace
with dance and song and merry cheer:
Tra-la-la-la and Fa-la-lee!

Avast! The revels must go on!
Let none reduce to sack and ash
what life in us may still remain!
Is there a better choice for us?
Tra-la-la-lip and Dee-la-shay!

Quick! Drain thy cup and pour again,
before the senses can return;
What good are revels if one can’t
let go of thinking now and then?
Tra-la-la-la and hoo-hoo-hoo!

Away! Let us leave this sad street,
where only tired and quiet live!
To arms against the somber world!
We must remember laughter!
Tra-la-la-lay and ho-ho-ho!

A toast! To life and living,
for the time is now to do it!
Tomorrow never really comes
and yesterday is only shadow.
Tra-la-la-lay and dipsy-do!

Again! More wine! More song! More dance!
Who knows when we will meet again?
And who would want their last to be
enveloped in some misery?
Tra-la-la-hoo de lah dee dah!

18 DEC 2012

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Why Not?: a dit

Once upon a time (which often
means quite long ago,
but could be only yesterday
or even tomorrow)
in some far place, there lived a man
who thought the strangest thoughts,
chock-full of possibilities:
what ifs, could bes, why nots.

“What if the world ran differently?”
he wondered, off and on.
“If it could be just as it should,
would I be here, or gone –
And if perhaps the end is due,
why not be well-prepared,
and make my peace with everyone
to settle my affairs?”

And so he called on all his friends,
both those estranged and dear,
and spoke a word or two to each
in a voice low and clear.
“What if,” he said, “we both could change
one thing and make it right?
Could that small motion change the world
in just a single night?”

Each answered as they thought they should:
some laughed, some cried or sneered,
while others spoke of time and space
and others said, “Too weird!”
But each agreed the man a fool
to try too much, too late;
and told themselves to wait and see,
to leave things up to fate.

Then once upon a time, the world
came crashing to a close;
and all the wait and see was done,
all what ifs and suppose.
There was no more of what could be,
no tangents, no more plot,
unless you took time, like that man;
and if you could, why not?

17 DEC 2012

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If You Should Curse Me: a dirum

May you get just what you deserve;
may your means drive your ends;
may all your enemies disguise
themselves among your friends.

May morning bring you no new light;
may evening bring no ease;
may your each action bring no gain,
and your works fail to please.

May you discover no new ways;
may your paths come to naught;
may every plan of yours fall through,
and your bribes not stay bought.

May you believe the ones you love;
may your hopes fade to fears;
may every prayer you whisper reach
unsympathetic ears.

May you find what you truly seek;
may it not end your woes;
may you be measured and found wanting
by both friends and foes.

May you crawl on your knees to God;
may He refuse your plea;
may you live in the wretched hell
that you would wish on me.

May you survive to rue each day;
may you receive the blame;
may you regret from this day forth
if you curse my good name.

17 DEC 2012

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