The Lifeguard
Would a lifeguard ponder to himself
perched high upon his chair,
“Is he really worth the rescue,
that man who drowns out there?”
No lifeguard that I know of
would employ such cogitation.
A lifeguard’s duty is to save –
that is his task, his station.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Who is this me?
Who is this me?
Who I am I do not know.
My thoughts are teeming bees, and so
When time allows the chance,
I intervene, and try to slow
The frenzied motion of their dance.
For just as someplace in the hive
A queen sits – calm – but quite alive,
I too am there, though far below
The depths I’ve been content to dive.
Who is this me, a friend or foe?
This me who causes joy and woe,
This me within who run the show,
This me within. Who runs the show?
Who I am I do not know.
My thoughts are teeming bees, and so
When time allows the chance,
I intervene, and try to slow
The frenzied motion of their dance.
For just as someplace in the hive
A queen sits – calm – but quite alive,
I too am there, though far below
The depths I’ve been content to dive.
Who is this me, a friend or foe?
This me who causes joy and woe,
This me within who run the show,
This me within. Who runs the show?
Gas Station
Gas Station
Sweet tickling fumes,
Rain-soaked wheel dripping mud
on white sneakers.
Beeps the pump, “Pay pay pay!”
to the purring world of rain.
Sweet tickling fumes,
Rain-soaked wheel dripping mud
on white sneakers.
Beeps the pump, “Pay pay pay!”
to the purring world of rain.
Loneliness
Loneliness
When you have no one
I am there,
Stroking your heart with
cold, hollow fingers,
Whispering strains of a fading song
into your unwilling ears,
Breathing barbed memories
into your dull brain,
Flirting with your past,
Jilting your future …
When you have no one,
I am there
to comfort you.
When you have no one
I am there,
Stroking your heart with
cold, hollow fingers,
Whispering strains of a fading song
into your unwilling ears,
Breathing barbed memories
into your dull brain,
Flirting with your past,
Jilting your future …
When you have no one,
I am there
to comfort you.
Inside n' Out
Inside n’ Out
“Why on earth would you want to marry Jed?”
her mother rebuked with a frown,
“When you could have Johnny Rosengloss —
the finest boy in the town!”
“At twelve John was deacon’s quo’rm president,
at fourteen an Eagle Scout!
While Jed spent his time bronco-bustin’
an’ just plain loafin’ about.”
“Young Johnny went off to Aw-stray-lia
an’ served an ‘onrable mission.
An’ what did yore Jed do all them two years?
He was up at Lake Turley, fishin’!”
“You could live the rich life with Johnny,
A-sellin’ his Daddy’s cars!
But you’d rather stay up late with Jed
talkin’ an’ watchin’ the stars.”
“I’m telling’you, Mary-Sue Buckley,
yore wastin’ yer time with that lout.
Don’t give me them protesterations!
Jed’s no good — inside n’ out!”
Mary cried and she pleaded and tried to explain:
(“Jed’s done him a turnabout!”)
But her protest was weak, and in the end
she gave in to the motherly clout.
So she married our good John Rosengloss,
and packed all her dreams in a trunk.
And she soon learned to stay in the corner
when her Johnny came home at night drunk.
“Why on earth would you want to marry Jed?”
her mother rebuked with a frown,
“When you could have Johnny Rosengloss —
the finest boy in the town!”
“At twelve John was deacon’s quo’rm president,
at fourteen an Eagle Scout!
While Jed spent his time bronco-bustin’
an’ just plain loafin’ about.”
“Young Johnny went off to Aw-stray-lia
an’ served an ‘onrable mission.
An’ what did yore Jed do all them two years?
He was up at Lake Turley, fishin’!”
“You could live the rich life with Johnny,
A-sellin’ his Daddy’s cars!
But you’d rather stay up late with Jed
talkin’ an’ watchin’ the stars.”
“I’m telling’you, Mary-Sue Buckley,
yore wastin’ yer time with that lout.
Don’t give me them protesterations!
Jed’s no good — inside n’ out!”
Mary cried and she pleaded and tried to explain:
(“Jed’s done him a turnabout!”)
But her protest was weak, and in the end
she gave in to the motherly clout.
So she married our good John Rosengloss,
and packed all her dreams in a trunk.
And she soon learned to stay in the corner
when her Johnny came home at night drunk.
How to Procrastinate
How to procrastinate
“Busy” is not enough, we’re all
too busy to sluff it, but
you’ve got to try
to think about your homework in advance,
consider doing it now,
you’ve got to
feel the throb of guilt
thump you again and again,
but ignore it, and choose
some worthless thing—
(Minesweeper is my favorite)
you’ve got to
play Nintendo, sofa-loaf
for Regis and Alex, take
Monday afternoon naps,
you’ve got to
forget that you remember,
let lazy whims and habits
override you, teach you
how to do nothing well.
There, this poem's enough.
“Busy” is not enough, we’re all
too busy to sluff it, but
you’ve got to try
to think about your homework in advance,
consider doing it now,
you’ve got to
feel the throb of guilt
thump you again and again,
but ignore it, and choose
some worthless thing—
(Minesweeper is my favorite)
you’ve got to
play Nintendo, sofa-loaf
for Regis and Alex, take
Monday afternoon naps,
you’ve got to
forget that you remember,
let lazy whims and habits
override you, teach you
how to do nothing well.
There, this poem's enough.
Wind
Wind
Oak leaves’ mad ruffling,
the fluster in a robin’s nest,
a coarse trunk creaking.
Rushing through leafy tunnels—
the howl of a thousand whispers.
Oak leaves’ mad ruffling,
the fluster in a robin’s nest,
a coarse trunk creaking.
Rushing through leafy tunnels—
the howl of a thousand whispers.
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