Last of 2010

 

2010 won't come again

So we should say good bye.

It is not too hard to bid farewell

It almost seems it's just begun

But now it is going away.

With ticking clocks and digital displays

We'll all know when

To throw the old calendar away

And start anew of 11.

Poem 67

Apples Oranges

Eat the fruit – you know

Here we go

Hiking hide-e-how

 

Fishes and salmon

Things like fish

Make us think

Of what we wish

 

When storms are rattlin'

Doors and windows

Sit down firmly

And eat some fish.

 

 

Poem 66

With rather ragged edges

August wandered in

Hot and wet

Heralding summer might end

Warning school children

The end is near

For some

Gone already.

Poem 65

Happy hamsters

Rugged hams

Dogs of winter

Lambs and hams

Long ago I thought of you

But overate

And turned quite blue

Thoughts of yesterday

Met tomorrow

And turn my stomach

With great sorrow

While boiling water

And thing sublime

I waited dinner

Till the chime

Said food was ready

Life is fine.

Poem 61

Apples crisp as evergreens

Magnify the sting of day

And edge of night;

Ever wakeful, full of hope

Walking in sunlight

Thinking of rain

Life drips away

Like twilight in the fog

Or morning underground.

Poem 60

Gone so long

Back again

Time away

Grinding work

And

Earning pay

But returned

What the hey!

Poem 59

Hot wings

Spring flings

Hamburgers and fries

Bits and pieces

Of unhealthy fun

Still better than

A day of full sun.

Poem 58

 

When salmon run

On finny feet

And birds fly

Upside down;

Then squirrels eat

And snakes retreat

To get a better angle

And find the answer:

Life the world and

Everything revealed

In unexpected moments.

Poem 57

 

Thread bare bodkins

Working weekdays

Evenings free of charge

Hamburger helping

Roast Bob the Blind

While all of Midland City

Cries out in anticipation

"Chicken Man, Chicken Man"

Back Chicago way.

Poem 56

Mashed or bashed

Potatoes or peas

Wednesday came early this week

Asked everyone to pay cash.

Early warning yelled out to say

"We need hamburger soup

And someone with croup."

Poem 55

 

With sunset rolling past the day

With willows whispering something to say

With one hand holding a guide for my way

I turned to the left and fell into the hey

Only to roll to the edge of the creek

Breaking three teeth and gashing my check

So I'll give up walking when future days beckon

And stick to my couch, an established potato.

 

 

Poem 54

 

It fells sometimes

Like stars have started

Falling one by one -

Like I've been walking

On a path

Of calendar pages

Early ones are breaking free

Twirling in wind and shadow -

Disappearing in the dark.

Poem 53

 

From today's weather

I can't tell -

It could be spring

It could be fall;

I know which one -

There's TV football –

Spring is more subtle

Growing shoots

Baby birds

Sports more confused.

 

Poem 52

 

With Henry working Wednesday

And everyone out of town

Zelda had a problem with her ritual green gown.

But after all the dogs got home

And chased the cats till 2

The village settled down a bit

With room for me and you.

Poem 51

 

When ducks and trucks

Collide inside

Your house is sure

A mess.

So close the door

Avoid the store

Don't call for pizza

Or run for office

Or cheer on Notre Dame –

Stay inside with lock'ed door

You'll be much safer

But ever more a bore.

Poem 50

 

I don't remember much

About the weather in Nantucket

Nor easily recall a ceiling drama

Or carefully placed grey bucket -

But when it rains too rapidly

For the roofing to keep us dry

A bucket, waste bin or dumpster

Will help prevent Mr. Bill's shrill cry

"Oh, shit we all will die."

 

Poem 49

 

When salmon sip cider

With wood smoke in the air

They wonder why hamsters

Have so much soft brown hair -

It might be a problem

Swimming upstream

It would be great

For warm winter dreams.

Poem 48

 

Hannibal liked his animal

More than he liked the snow –

But Hannibal drove his animal

As far as he could go.

Poem 47

 

There are ants in the house

In the yard;

In the grass;

In the street;

In the driveway;

Scouting everywhere

For water;

For food;

For friends;

One assumes –

But:

No one ever sees

Ants stopped to chat

Like your aunt or uncle.

Maybe they only deal with basics.

Too small to engage in real conversation

We may never ever know.

Poem 46

 

Frazzled fried fuming frequent

Frustrating slow bewildered pace

As Friday crept upon the calendar

Without expression succession or space.

Monday haunts the view beyond

A weekend fleeting past too fast

Like sand blown off the beach too soon

Back to work

Too soon

Too soon.