A Northshore Christmas 2020

So thinking of a present for Christmas,
Maybe a lil something in rhyme,
But not sure it’s right,
That this might not be the time.
But the good is worth remembering
And the great was sweet given by your leave.
So, here’s a little something,
But in magic you still must believe.

Puppydog had come before the rains
A sweet bit of plain good heaven
A-jumping and a-tusslin’ all day
From dawn’s seven until dark’s seven.
One day Puppydog was gone!
The door had somehow been left open!
Crushed, she looked all over and all under
But P’dog was gone, tweren’t no reason for hopin’.
The days sore passed one over the other
But there’s your 2020, don’t you know?
Hearts curl upon themselves these days;
For the happy, sometimes there’s nowhere to go.

So, a cold blustery empty kind of a day
Brought the Northshore Christmas Eve—

Trying to nap in the bunk beds,
She thought she’d heard some skritchin’?
She lumbered to her dead-tired feet
To open the door off the fine kitchen—

Puppydog! Yelping warm holiday greetings!
Oh, such reunited hearts awash in love’s tears.
So, JoJo, I wish you a very Merry Christmas
And a bundle of the happiest of New Years!

A Waupaca Snowday

Yes, she’s a pretty redhead.
No I don’t know her name.
Ask her out? Nah,
It always ends the same—
I don’t get her,
She doesn’t cotton to me.
It’s been like that
From the dawn of eternity.
Bring her home for Thanksgiving?
I believe that’s a bit too soon.
With all that six-foot social distancing
Might as well be on the dark side of the Moon.
I heard from Waupaca,
It’s gonna snow all day,
But the trains keep a-runnin’
On that Canadien North railway.
There’s Loo and her mighty kid,
Out chasing the Loco Progressive!
I tell ya these holidays alone
Are getting a mite depressive.
I think I’ll trip over to the Twilight Zone
And look into Mr. Nelson’s Game.
Ask her out? Nah,
It always ends the same.

Trumpbiden 2020

There was this time
With a younger face
And in a better place
I loved all the right stars
Trolled all the best bars
But you have left the scene
And so I lonely keen
Alone I grace the dawn
As a back spasm allows
And search for smarter cows
With no reason to lurk behind
Trying always to be kind
And the road goes on
While I linger in the time share
As if I should care
A president elected next week
They’re all such freak
Make a life for better horizons
Give me a hundred reasons
To listen to the heads on tv
Ought to be like me
65 and so totally alone
No longer rings a phone
A text for you to ponder
Its not getting better and over yonder
Turn to stone

June Fest 2020

I have no regret

Running past the egret

Whilst running around my pond.

Later with some glue

I tried to repair my igloo,

But I couldn’t make it make a good bond!

Just to be clear—

I too like beer,

Just like justice Kavanaugh;

But you be the judge,

I still believe the best fudge

Comes from Island Mackinaw.

So, try not to fret—

You’ll never regret—

That, who, or what is coming real soon:

For maybe next week,

Please, try not to freak,

Twilst be a visit from a certain Ms June!

Artist Lily

Artist Conjurer

Stand Render

Draw me a picture of

Passion long sore past

Of swift cold winds

From a north cold, fast

Outline the future

Bright or short

Of a Princess bold

Strong from Fablehaven court

Show cat’s curt tails curlicuing

Aloof lithesome beast

Awaiting the master servant

Next hot feast

Wonder with a line draft

Wine glass down and paintbrush raised

More ochre more fire more enscene

The next promise amazed

Glass To Glass

A life grown smaller
Measured from glass to glass
Sunny days dimmer now
What horrors new shall pass?
Granpa passed today
The next soft soul rising to a sure heaven
Awaiting the next kickoff
Are we kneeling for our unseen clerk in 7-Eleven?
A chippy bite of merlot
Chartreuse green simmers in our glass
September signals the Fall
What horrors new will pass?
Matriculated on yonder Austin hill
Pray for the new generation
While preen we old and spent—
A history mitered in misty veneration
Are you masqueing this year?
Can’t we just get a pass?
Tiring of this asterisked year—
What new horrors are to pass?

One For Laura

C’mon let’s go
I’ve been waiting for hours
Time to conquer
All poetry’s towers

Open the doors
Let loose the knowledge
I gotta learn this stuff
If I wanna get into college

Dickinson and Eliot,
Starting with Gilgamesh,
But trust me, you’ll lose me
If you include ole John Tesh

So, let’s learn about rhyme
In all its naïf pentameter
Hey, this isn’t too bad
For an old rhyming amateur

A Safe Place

I’ve lost that place to let a tear;
My heart’s gone to its safe place.
How could things go so wrong?
What new horrors must we face?

Barricades fall from Seattle town,
But nothing’s better, not at all.
I’ve no stamp for my letter
Begging to be allowed to call.

Things today sing with a minor key,
But youngin there’s just one thing:
Passion stills, for just a moment, the longing—
Yet loneliness in old age still prides its sting.

Did she survive the novel virus?
Will she return to us fully alive?
Glasses for all to share the sauterne!
Breathe the air! Dance! Sing! Thrive!

I’ve lost the time to shed a tear,
My words go without a decent rhyme,
The End: how will we deeply know?
What new pain unfolds with wrinkled time?

Fathers’ Day In Quarantine

Ya know she smiles loud
Cuz she’s got all them teeth
But don’t take my word for it
I’m pretty far from beyond belief
All I truly know is better days coming week after next
I know this to be quite true
Cuz it says so in my daughter’s last text

Daughter conquers the days
With a lot more stress than I do
Pouring over hiragana squiggles
A looming test is messing with her artist’s do—
A perfect score in her Summer Japanese (!!!)
Brought my little brilliant girl
Down to her very studious knees!

Soon one far day she’ll marry
And support her brilliant kid’s studies
Skinned knees, broken arms,
Betrayal by once assumed close buddies.
And I’ll wish she finds all the joys
Such awesome women usually discover
Uncovering men buried inside hapless little boys

Tis quiet over on the cul-de-sac
‘Specially when I turn down my stereo
But it’s another Fathers’ Day
So turning Yes’ Starship Trouper to eleven, doncha know!
Singing along with the best dead rock stars
But what on Earth can we do—
We can’t go to restaurants, movies, or bars

An unassuming liquid red
Half fills this humble glass
Cabernet Sauvignon from over Sonoma way—
Wish I was sharing with my own sparkle-eyed lass.
But now time to rewash this mask:
Such varied fun in lockdown
Filled with this new time-worn vital task.

Yes please do come on over
To my wee cool place,
Always room in Alexandria
For one such as you and your happy pretty face!
We can play all the latest games,
Or uncover our darker tragedies,
Then smartly resolve them with neat effectual reframes!

Ya know he smiles loud
Cuz he’s got all them flossed teeth
But don’t take my word for it
I’m pretty far from beyond belief
All I truly know is better days coming week after another
I know this to be quite literally true
Cuz it says so in a text from my encouraging but distant brother

[PS Stay home, stay safe, practice the best proper social distance
Or may a gravid moose find relief in the spaces within your pants!]

Corona Gone

The sun fell down,
And broke its crown,
The dollars came tumbling after.
Sneezles and dweebles
Racked up all the peoples,
Drowned out in all the laughter.
Maybe you ought take a pill
And go for a finer thrill;
Tomorrow may never come.
Tis a long way home
Where you’re far from Rome;
Make sure your pickle is dill.
He’s got all the ventilators
Certified by prime aggregators;
Are you sure his lapel mic’s on?
Forget Southern Nights,
Time for Last Rites,
She’s gonna be corona gone.
How do you give someone a hug
Keeping six feet apart on a rug?
May I ask: are you a believer?
Tell everyone I love them so,
And I will miss them when I go—
This morning I got up with a fever…