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Tuesday, May 31, 2011

#151 Is Grumped In the Mud

I’m mister obvious
The obvious rhyme
At the obvious time
I bugger it to the floor
Like a ten dollar whore
I am the hack
That is me

But you can’t complain
You’re the one who tuned in
For this schlock
This drivel
This insane dirt-on-my-face
Mockery of art

So I give you this:

Walking the square
Marked by the Sears fence
Of the world
Designated as mine
I find a multitude
Of mostly mud and sand
To bury myself in
With a cartoonish straw sticking up
It’s the best I can muster
These days it seems
It helps me think
Surrounded by earth
The worms and bugs
Massaging my girth
It tickles
And inspires my dreams
Mostly dreams of being buried alive though
So it’s not that great
But that’s where I’ll be
If you can’t find me
On that day that I invited you over
Just start poking the ground
Eventually you’ll find me
And be a pal,
Don’t use a sharp stick

Monday, May 30, 2011

#150 Death of Kiss

Funerals are for the living
Not the dead

That said

Who will pipe our souls to heaven
Without the scores who mourn
And sing their hymns of sweet grace?

Death awaits
Arms open
Mouth agape

We are drawn
To kiss
That yawning maw

To this certainty

That said

I hope that death
Dresses up for me
Paints it’s face
Puts on a dress
And walks with a whore’s grace

So when I approach it in that dark alley
X number of days hence
I’ll be eager to make it’s acquaintance
And run to it’s embrace

Sunday, May 29, 2011

#149 Can't Stomach the Thought

“I dislike you”
I say, eyeing it carefully
“You fill me with distaste”
And it looks back at me
Equally unimpressed
Or so it seems

So smug
Sitting there
Surrounded by it’s saucy secretions
I’ll fix it’s little red wagon
I’ll cut it in half
And feed it to the goat

Offered to the goat
Whom I assumed would eat anything
Goat’s nose turned up
At this pale warm offering
As if the very thought offended

Now I’m right put out
I don’t want to confront this demon
Bad going in
Bad going down
And, for that matter
Bad coming back out again

Why are things such as this
Even here on this earth
I yell to the heavens
Shaking my fork and knife
In fury

No answer comes
Laying there undeterred
Assured in it’s superiority over me
My cauliflower taunts me

“Oh, how I hate thee!”

Saturday, May 28, 2011

#148 Hides From Colonel Sanders

Things are ugly
This means war
It’s time to call in
The Colonel Sanders Clone Corp

Marching in unison
Each one looking the same
Cloned from The Colonel’s DNA
From the depths of hell they came

Carrying their weapons purposefully
Ten supply wagons at their rear
Carrying food and munitions
As well as miscellaneous gear

They each eat a bucket of fried chicken
For every single meal
It’s the fuel that keeps them going
Though the calories involved make one reel

Their figures are cut
Their muscles in fine tone
They keep this way by purging
And working out with bags of stone

The Colonel Sanders Clone Corp
Is called upon only in direst need
For they can turn on their own in a heartbeat
And move with the devil’s speed

We send them out well ahead
To clear the enemy away
We don’t want to be anywhere near
When their forces enter the fray

Their skills passed down from clone to clone
Taught once upon a time by General Lee
Ghastly techniques not known to others
The Colonel’s secret recipe

The sun is not yet at midday
When the enemy learns what’s in store
As they cross swords with their personal nightmare
The Colonel Sanders Clone Corp

Friday, May 27, 2011

#147 Is a Bit Touched

The wind blows
As everyone knows
It puffs and it gusts
And we sway as me must

Towards where it does go

And oh the pitter patter
I pretend it doesn't matter
And mad as a hatter

Of the droplets
The water pockets
Upon my windowsill

Grabbing my hat
To protect me from bats
For they love to make houses of my hair

I stride down the lane
And refuse to complain
About the rain
Smattering my face
With wet

Water dripping from my nose
I stop to compose
A letter
To my best girl
In ink
Which runs in a wink

This smeared letter
I kiss to make better
And Seal it with rubber cement

I tie it to a squirrel
And give it a whirl
It runs off crookedly
Dizzy from the fun

I return to my abode
By the very same road
To await her reply
Surely she will sigh
With a smile and cry
At my words
Written with passion
In streaked ink
Tinted by madness

Thursday, May 26, 2011

#146 Is Last

Last in line
Gets the last of things
If there are any left
Sometimes that’s good
Because I like the crunchy bottom
Of the macaroni pan

Other times
It’s not so good
All the good things will be gone
No more hot dogs
Or buns
Your favorite salad all eaten
You’ll walk back
With whatever you could find
Everyone else avoiding your eyes
As they enjoy what they took
Before you

But sometimes
You find something
That others have overlooked
Like a treasure
Hiding under the last light of day
It glints at you
A tiny bit
Just for you
To let you know it’s there

You quietly take your treasure
And you sneak away
Happy as all get out
To savor what you found
On this day

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

#145 Moving On: Tentatively

The rocking cars
From an age gone by
Rocked on the bumps
And clacked on the joints
A rhythm so consistent
To be like white noise
It was putting me to sleep

Stepping on board
The sign reminds
To: "Mind the Gap"
Lest you fall through
Meeting an awful end
No doubt

My luggage stowed
My mind wandering
Staring aimlessly
At the scenery blurring by
I remember the things left behind
And the mystery up ahead

Life was simpler
Only hours ago
I feel as I've aged
Even as we pulled from the station
Pulling away from my childhood
And on into manhood

You can't go home again
That saying, often said
I know it's not literally true
But it might as well be
Up in my head.

My destination
Growing closer
Thinking ahead
Hoping all will be well
Go as planned, no missteps

The old horsehair seat
Makes my back itch
And I wiggle to relieve it
My new angle showing me something new

A lovely girl in the row
Kitty corner to me
She looks apprehensive
I wonder if she's going
Where I'm going

She smiles at me

Mind the Gap

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

#144 A Fleeting Thought

What is anything
If not memories

Memories of what has been thought
People, places, events
Wars that have been fought

Memories in steel, stone, and concrete
Of designs, and designers
Some long since
Turned to dust

As our old world crumbles
Our memories fade as well

Paper turns back to pulp
Papyrus rots
Even the stone tablets
Wear away

The memories
Of who we are
What we've done
And how to do things
Are so fleeting
So easily lost

Sometimes easily changed
Like some grand game
Of telephone

I'm not the same person I was today
But I remember
For a time

Then that will be gone
Replaced by newer memories
Until I myself am gone
And only a memory

And eventually
That will fade too

Monday, May 23, 2011

#143 Alexander the Painted

Alexander lived in a coffee can
In the blue tub
On the red wagon
With his manna of hamburger

I found him one day
While away on vacation
He was swimming next to our boat
I offered him some bread
And scooped him up
I took him home
And kept him for the summer

He was the prettiest little painted turtle
Bigger than both my small hands put together
He seemed to like living with us
He had a small rock
Which he basked on
In his tub, on the wagon

Of course, he loved his red meat
I would feed him
Three or four pinches of ground round
Every day

Every night
I'd roll him into the garage
To protect him from critters
All the raccoons and things
That seemed to wander around

At the summers end
I put him in his Maxwell House home
And carried him down to the lake
I laid the can on it's side
And waited for him to come out
After a bit, he did
And without a look to me
He swam away

I left the can there
Hoping he might return
For another bite or two
Of hamburger

But he never did

I dream he is out there still
Fortified by his power diet of meat
In the summer of '78

Sunday, May 22, 2011

#142 Has a Blue Beetle Over

Blue Beetle
Blue Beetle
Are you running my way?
Say Mister Blue Beetle
Why don’t you stay?
Please, don’t go away

I’ll brew us up some tea
Put it on a pretty tray
Serve it up oh so nice
You’ll want to stay all day

Enjoy your tea, Mister Blue Beetle
While I’m busy here in the back
Don’t worry, nothing big
Just whipping up a snack

I’ve got long ones and short ones
Some white or black elm
Which would you prefer, sir?
I have the best in all the realm

Blue Beetle
Blue Beetle
Your carapace, it dazzles
With iridescence to spare
It is quite bright
Were you not aware?

Say Mister Blue Beetle
My tea, it’s almost gone
The sun is almost setting
And I know you must soon move on

I’ll wrap some snacks right up for you
In this nifty brown sack
I’ve added a pinch of sugar
For your late night sweets attack

Blue beetle
Blue beetle
I bid you adieu
You are welcome anytime, my shiny friend
With your scintillating conversation
And your iridescent carapace of blue

Saturday, May 21, 2011

#141 Is en-Raptured

Today started like any other day
Got up
Took my morning constitution
With full amendments and resolutions
Had some yummy cereal
Then sat down and rubbed my tummy for awhile

I went outside
To take care of some things
When to my surprise
I began to rise
As if I had wings

Suddenly, I remembered
Today was May 21st
This must be the rapture!
I was fit to be burst

As I cleared the trees
I saw others rising too
We were all going to heaven!
If I were on the ground
I'd have dropped to my knees

Up and up we went
The whole lot of us
Some of us happy
Some scared and full of mistrust

But then
Something strange happened
No stranger than rising in the first place
But strange, just the same

We all started to go back down
Slowly, gently
Back to the earth
Where we belonged evidently

Finally, my feet were back on the ground
I wandered around
And tried to talk to others
But they wouldn't make a sound

It didn't come out
What had happened
Until the afternoon
And it was true without a doubt

Gravity had reversed itself
But only for humans
We all rose up for a bit
But then gravity corrected itself
And we all came back down
The gravity coming back
Oh so gently

Sound ridiculous, you say?
Well I'll take that gravity scenario
Over some fool predicting the Rapture
Any old day

Friday, May 20, 2011

#140 Smells Like a Rose

There’s a wind
A wind in the pillows
A foul and stinky breeze
Clouds the air
Makes you sneeze

The room smells of fart
Once again
Last nights dinner
Has hit it out of the park

Those burritos and beans
Cauliflower and greens
Got in the colon
And united
In an unholy union of smell

I was asleep most of the night
So I didn’t notice
All the sneaks and peeps
Coming from my posterior

Hotboxed under the covers
Released when I rolled over
It hovers in the room
Like a smelly poltergeist

When I awake
I retch
And I blame the dog
Because there’s just no way
Could have come from me!

Thursday, May 19, 2011

#139 Flies 3rd Seat

My eyes
Like saucers
Reflect the scene before me
Video game screens
Showing the four engines
Screaming at takeoff power
Turning fuel into smoke
At an alarming rate
The copilot calls out V1
We’re really moving now
Almost floating above the concrete
In our manic run to the end of the runway
Pressed back into my seat
Thrilling to the thrust
I’m taking it all in
The approaching red lights
Marking the end of the road
The speed bug hits VR
I hear them call “Rotate!”
And the horizon disappears
I’m pushed into my seat harder
An involuntary smile painting my features
The pilot and copilot throw switches and levers in a choreographed dance
Calling out checklist points to one another
Climbing hard through 2000 feet
I close my eyes
And sigh
How lucky am I
To fly jumpseat
On a Boeing Whale
In these times of taking things for granted
And being mired in the Michigan mud

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

#138 Is Up Then Down

There is no work
To shirk
In this eternal summertime
That I find myself in

My grass stays green and clipped
The trash takes itself out
The only thing I need to attend
Is my margarita, which begs to be sipped

All my loved ones
Are close at hand
There is no death or unhappiness
It's rosy times across the land

Is it Valhalla?
Or maybe Heaven?
I can't really explain this state
That I find myself in

Although if I look hard enough
And not directly at
I sense, rather than see
The truth, lurking like the Cheshire Cat

First the teeth
Rend the sky from my perfect world
Then the eyes
Penetrate all things
Burning all, blackened and curled

Finally all is revealed
Pain and sadness
The only meaningful yield
I search, but find no gladness

In this place
That's not a place
In this time
Where it has no meaning

I suppose I've come full circle
And this must be Hell

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

#137 Ok, Watch This!

Look at me
I'm a spectacle
Am I not?

Look at me!
At least watch the debacle
Go ahead and take the dare

Just be aware
That it's exactly what
I want you to do

While I make an ass of myself
Don't worry
It's good for my mental health

The doctor said so
Here's the script
"Fill as needed"

Take that! modesty
And this! common sense

Put your camera on me!!!
Now, now now!

I'm going to do something amazing
I so want this on Youtube

Ok, here I go
Check this out


Ok, you better call an ambulance
Or something
My bone should not be sticking out like that

Maybe this video should go on

Monday, May 16, 2011

#136 Jesse the Poodle

The tumbleweeds rolled
And the wind blew
Dust in the air
Thick as stew

When came to town
A character of renown
It was the Texas Ranger
Jesse the Poodle

His hair was white
And he was quite a sight
As he ambled into the saloon
Ordering a water
And some kibble in a dish

We knew he was serious
Although a touch delirious
From the heat
And the dust
Caked on his feet

As he drank his drink down
He looked all around
And sized us up
One by one

He could tell who was yeller
As his eyes lit on a feller
Who winced
And looked at the ground

Sitting back in his chair
He brushed back his hair
Polished his badge
With a cloth backed with bone

Then facing the crowd
He said quite loud,
“I’m here to keep order
I’ll stay as long as it takes
To clean up this one poodle town”

But of course
All we heard him say was,

He was Jesse
Jesse the poodle
With guns in his paws
He upheld the laws
And ran the bad guys
Clean out of town

Sunday, May 15, 2011

#135 Were Boys on the Loose

Lake Lansing lapped lazily
Upon the shores near where we played
My best friend Jeff and I
Finding adventure in the woods and water
We were equipped for anything
In sneakers and jeans
I think we had sticks too
You never know
What you might want to poke at
And on this day
We found something great

It was a dead turtle

We poked at it
We peered at it
We flipped it
We flopped it

We decided to cut it’s head off

I swear I don’t know
Which one of us came up with the idea
We were eight years old
So really, could have been either of us

So I took my pocket knife
And snicked open the blade
A blade so dull
That no sane person would have used it
But, it still seemed like a good idea

We stretched out his neck on the ground
And I started sawing at it
Not much happened
Imagine rolling a piece of rubber around
With a butter knife

Then something made a crunching noise
And some goo came out the turtle’s mouth

That was enough for me
I dropped the knife
And threw up in the stream
Jeff may have laughed

He probably should have

We pushed the turtle back into the stream
To do whatever it is
That dead turtles do
And we walked back to his house

There were Lego masterpieces to build
Tents to set up
Dirt to move around
And probably a good snack waiting in the kitchen