Archive for March 16, 1987

Sleep
Dreams
White picket fences
Knights of the Round Table
Picturesque cottages
By a blooming pasture
With a lake some distance away
Away over a patchwork quilt
Of grass and poppies
And lilies and daffodils
And snapdragons and
Dandylions and petunias
And myriads of colored flowers
Like a living rainbow.
A silver-maned unicorn
Prances through the colorful sea
With an Elf princess on her back
Wading towards an unknown goal.
Shall she stoop to kiss a frog?
At the edge of the sparkling lake,
Unicorn as guardian, companion, friend
An entire land
Filled with knights and maidens
And emerald cities and Cheshire cats
And evil witches and giant beanstalks
Nottingham castles, Tom Sawyer’s clubhouse,
Sleeping beauties and handsome princes
A land whose boundaries are imagination
And not worldly restrictions and rules
Every land is different
Unique to that person
And this is what
Dreams
Are made of

Window

Posted: March 16, 1987 in Poetry
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How does it feel to be so transparent
An object made to be looked through
Unseen and
Unnoticed.
The only physical evidence that it is there is
The small pieces of
Fly and dirt and scum
And water spots
That wouldn’t have happened if it
Had Cascade sheeting action
But no one cares.

Sometimes it gets cleaned!
But only to make it more transparent
And ignoreable
And featureless
And it takes away its personality,
What little it had.

Does a window silently scream when it’s broken>
Maybe that’s what the crash is for.
How would it feel to have a hole through one’s middle?

But there are always those few, special, lucky windows;
They look out over a peaceful countryside
Or sparkling, sunny waters
Or cloudlessly blue skies.
Not streets full of pollution, misery, greed
Poverty, homelessness, helpless,
Prejudice, suffering, chaotic, infernal,
Religious, lunatic, morbidness, rape,
And other acts of intolerable crime.
They are very thin partitions…

Purple

Posted: March 16, 1987 in Poetry
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Chris Feher
Should have purple in his hair
Because it is unfair
He didn’t do his share
Of picking up TP
Out of four there were three
Make him pay a fee
For avoiding penalty.
Linda is pissed
With her mousse she missed
Knocked out of her fist
The ground it kissed.
Bobby got shafted
His jacket was blasted
Ironically purple’s casted
The effects have lasted.
Alex missed out.
Wendy will pout.
No doubt
They’ll shout.
Bur Chris we will get
Not yet
I’ll bet.
Don’t fret.

Humor

Posted: March 16, 1987 in Poetry
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Without any humor
You’ll get a tumor
In your head
To make you dead.
Without any fun
You’ll get nothing done.
Your hair will go grey
And in bed you’ll lay.
Without any riddles
You’ll get round in your middles
From not laughing enough
Boy, that must be tough!
Without practical jokes
We’ll be boring folks.
Excitement we’ll lack;
You will live in a shack.
But without any humor
I’d make such a furor
So you’d put it all back
Intact.

Rhyme

Posted: March 16, 1987 in Poetry
Tags: ,

There was an old lady
Who lived in a shoe.
Had so many children
She didn’t know what to do.
But if youse think that’s bad,
Better nawt tawk
‘Cause there’s a man down the street
Who lives in a sock.