This was a project I did basically during the pandemic. I started writing a poem a day. Once ‘real life’ started again it got harder to write everyday, which is interesting.
Today was a day
Today was a day
I wanted to give up
Today was a day
When going got quite rough
Today was a day
I did it anyway
Today was a day
When grit came out to play
Today was a day
I had to really try
Today was a day
A life is measured by
Something
Something silly
Something sweet
Something short
Something neat
I have to write my poem today
But once again have little to say
I’ve learned the way out of this trap
Is to let the words come out like crap
Sometimes I find something
Sometimes I don’t
Looks like today....today...
I won’t
( ...or did I? 😉 )
The Penguin?
Paul The Penguin
Keeps himself neat
The shiniest shoes
On his daintiest feet
He is a dandy
A right real fop
I’m fairly sure
the cane is a prop
He waddles around
This way and that
Of course he wears
A giant top hat
He carries an eyeglass
On a gold chain
A black umbrella
When it might rain
Paul is our neighbor
Should we feel shame?
We call him The Penguin
Our little nickname
Go Grab Your Hat!
Time for a Friday!
Go grab your hat!
Let’s go have a good ol’ time!
End the week with splat!
Throw out the rule book!
Dance like you were five!
Sing and play the day away!
It’s great to be alive!
❤️ A little note to you — extraordinarily special and dear reader — thank you for being here. These words come alive through your reading. ❤️
this little word
A word controlled my mind today
and I couldn’t make it leave.
It insisted that I listen,
it gave me no reprieve.
It stood there oh so boldly
begging me to see
that what it held inside itself
was put there just by me.
Without all of my stories
it was nothing really much.
What it needed me to do
was pack it with more stuff.
So I wrote a tiny poem
about this little word,
watched it as it flew away
because I called the word a bird.
Larry Lonondinger
Larry Lonondinger
as lazy as a man can be
let’s walk through a week with him
and we will surely see
On Monday
he does no work at all
claiming it is healthier
to start things with a crawl
On Tuesday he pretends to work
but nothing moves along
that’s because he thinks
the week is very long
Larry, he is quite skilled and deft
at counting days that are still left
On Wednesday you would think
his excuses would run out
but not with Larry, not at all
with him they sprout and sprout
oh today I am quite tired
or, it is very cold
or, I ate too much for breakfast
or, this pen is far too old
On Thursday there’s a turn
a switch, a counterpart
now it isn’t too soon to begin
it is now too late to start!
On Friday, well, what’s the point?
the week is nearly done
why start now, it’s best to wait
On Monday we start our new run
it isn’t only weekdays
that we see old Larry laze
the weekends soon become
a slothful, idle haze
On Saturday
the errands — they will have to wait
for now Larry needs to rest
the fatigue of the work week — so great!
On Sunday — well, that’s a rest day
we can’t expect that he would work!
to even ask the question!
are you some kind of jerk!?
and then right back to Monday
the week begins again
there is Larry Lonondinger
the most lazy of all men!!
prime grime
reuse the same darn rhyme
this poem is a crime
like sucking on a lime
not something so sublime
good night, it’s my bed time
A Silly Valentine
Roses are red
Jam can be spread
I might have it
on some fine bread
Violets are blue
Gum’s fun to chew
I’m making bad rhymes
Happy Valentine’s to You
😍😍😍
life’s big circus
the world is always whirring
seems to never stop
the constant little buzzes
hisses, whooshes, pops
i wonder what it sounds like
to have no noise at all
like a little koan
can you hear it fall?
the never ending hubbub
all part of life’s big circus
tuning to the truest tones
a fine and mighty purpose
charge
I’m out of charge
my phone just died
my laptop stopped
my willful side has been dried
He’s out of charge
his money’s gone
his gun won’t shoot
his name just John no more Don Juan
She’s out of charge
she missed the cape
she let them off
from red tape she did escape
We aren’t in charge
the time goes by
we work and try
we look to the sky and wonder why
for the fun of it
this writing has been harder
than it used to be
I must have things in my head
that are blocking me
I seem to want to be
witty, clever, wise
say it all with some aplomb
make people surprised
but these are only smallish words
with no real big ideas
sometimes it is just good fun
to find a rhyme - tortillas!
today I will sound applause
at the value of pure play
something for the fun of it
nothing deep to say
Borro and Pop
twin brothers
Borro and Pop
go on adventures
to the tippy tip top
they climb trees
and houses and buildings and walls
they climb mountains
and canyons and even ice falls
today they are climbing
a tree they named Willy
Borro and Pop
are nothing but silly
they make up games
and words and people
all the while
they climb a church steeple
why do they climb?
we might try to ask them
but we find they are off
to a mountain in Aspen
the thing that I know
about Borro and Pop
they will keep going
they won’t ever stop
they know who they are
they do what they do
in that they are lucky
how about you?
beyond letters
silly is funny
oops makes a sound
purple feels creamy
thud hits the ground
words have a shape
way beyond letters
to live in that place
is to make life better
a mumbling recollection
a mumbling recollection
as she stoops to stir the stew
storied lore heard twice before
she wants to tell to you
a fancy tale of weft and wale
and how she knit a slew
for sailors on a mighty ship
their fortunes not come through
a silly yarn of cow and barn
and how she shod a shoe
for bovines of a higher class
afraid of their own doo
a misty myth of a blacksmith
and how he made her blue
young lovers for a short time
but then away he flew
the hazy intersection
the lines of her own life
best to sit and listen
avoid familial strife
but maybe still remember
as she speaks anew
all these fables 'round the table
they might not be true