... So it Seemed, the rhymes

... So It Seemed, the rhymes
by William Connelly 2022
These were written over the years whenever a creative spark beckoned. Some were inspired by Robert Service's poem The Cremation of Sam McGee, which my father had me memorized as a child.

Excuse Me My Friend

Excuse me my friend but I just dropped in
from the land of the Big Blue Sky.
While walking along and singing a song
I slipped 'cause of a bug in my eye.

So I must construe, a tunnel I fell through
that led to this strange underland.
But now that I'm here it would appear
you could probably lend me a hand.

My Papá Rodriguez ran out of cannabis
and it seems you know where there's more.
By the smell of your hookah you're smokin' blue kushka
and that's what Papa sent me to score.

So if you can spare an inch or even a pinch
I'll be grateful and bid you adieu,
and go back to where, there sat a march hare,
thence up the tunnel I fell through.

Allpoetry.com poem about the above image. No mention can be made of Alice or Wonderland or other expressions unique to Alice in Wonderland. Less than 165 words.

Lewis Carroll's fantasy Alice in Wonderland takes place in drug-induced subterranean world lacking logic and proportion. This author however does not endorse the use of recreational drugs or alcohol.

A Schooner Named Rhyme

Once upon a time on a schooner named Rhyme
there was a colorful crew of creatures.
There were talking dogs and enchanted frogs
along with some poets and teachers.

They spoke in rhymes of fun-filled times
as their words like the currents flow.
While painted clowns insured no frowns
and the sky had brilliant rainbows.

It seems the rhymes soothed their minds
as their thoughts sailed free in the wind.
Over oceans blue the schooner blew:
a ship filled with poets and friends.

Ode to his Valentine

He was flying high in the Texas sky
sipping a glass of wine,
when it occurred to him he'd be home by ten
and hadn't bought a valentine.

There wasn't much time so he started a rhyme
to give to his lover at home.
But the words came slow and he didn't know
if he'd ever finish the poem.

When he changed planes in Dallas, he'd made little progress
so he toured the airport shops.
He considered buying panties or sexy nighties
but decided she'd look better in socks.

This was written while flying home to Vancouver Washington from a business trip to Houston Texas on Valentine's Day night, 1989. It was given to my wife Bernadine that night along with a pair of socks with little airplanes embroidered on them which I purchased in the Dallas airport in route.

Ode to Holly and Jim

Their house was the gem just below the "M"
on the hillside right above Golden.
Built over a mine on a steep incline,
Holly and Jim felt truly emboldened.

When the sun went down, they'd all lounge around
and gaze at the distant lights.
Immersed in the Jacuzzi with their Mom from St. Louie,
they loved those warm summer nights.

His name was Jim Reed and he danced like a steed
his parties they say were fantastic.
As he waltzed from the house with a cigar in his mouth,
his movements seemed a bit spastic.

Jim's wife's name was Holly and I'll tell you by golly
she was brave to dance with that man.
He'd spin her around 'till she'd fall to the ground
and she'd land right on her can.

"After 31 years", Holly said with tears,
"I'm moving to the Western Slope."
"It's been lots of fun and I'll miss everyone,
so you'll visit me there soon I hope."

This was written for Jim and Holly Reed who were known for throwing colorful parties in the 1990's at their house on the mountainside overlooking Golden Colorado. In 2022 Holly sold the house and moved to Paonia on the Western Slope.

The Roughneck

It was half past four when he slammed the door
and climbed in his pickup truck.
He forgot to shave and hadn't bathed
but really didn't give a duck.

His clothes were soiled and smeared with oil:
nothing that could be worn to town.
His hands were strong with two fingers gone,
the others were calloused and brown.

It was bitter cold when he backed to the road
and drove to the Aztec station.
He filled at the pump, then went in for a dump
and to buy some eggs and bacon.

Before leaving Aztec he deposited his paycheck
then went east to Gobernador.
He slowed down for 'smoky' then lit a cheap stogie
that'd never seen a humidor.

It was still dark when he pulled in to park
out back in the snow by the pits.
He climbed to the floor to inspect the core
and check for wear on the bits.

Said "What the duck!" when he learned they're stuck
with thirteen joints in the hole.
They said "We're just fixin' to start fishin'
but expect progress will be slow."

Written while driving from Farmington NM, east to wells in the San Juan Basin in 2001. I was doing a series of production tests on gas wells while working for Burlington Resources and was taken aback by the hard, unkempt workers that drive the remote oil field roads so early in the morning. Gobernador and Aztec are tiny towns in the heart of the immense gas field.

King of the Orinoco

Se llama Senor Roberto
     he's the King of the Orinoco.
He was our honcho at Conoco
     and drilled muchos pozos.
He was buen geologo
     and discovered mucho petroleo.
But little did he know
     no quieren no mas gringos.
Since el es Norteamericano
     it's time for him to go.
Chavez prefers Venezolanos
     'cause they cost him less dinero.
Well he may be a gringo bimbo
     but we hate to see him go.
So from all of us Venezolanos
     you'll always be our amigo.
And even if you're in Colorado,
     you're still King of the Orinoco.

I wrote this in Venezuela for Bob Kopper when Petrozuata was nationalized in 2007. It's a song to be played to a Reggaeton tune with a driving Latin beat.

Adieu

Adieu Denver, it's hard to go.
Purple peaks are capped with snow
The smell of Spring is in the air
Lovely girls everywhere
Only wish I were there.

Adieu Houston, it's time to go.
Crowded roads from Katy to Conroe
The smell of cars is in the air
Urban sprawl everywhere
Only glad I'm not there.

Adieu LinnCo, it's time to go.
The price of oil's dropped too low
Rigs are stacked everywhere
Another slump we must bear
Heaven knows we've had our share.

Bob Kopper and I worked for ConocoPhillips in Venezuela together until June 2007, when we were forced to leave the country due to Nationalization. Both of us were reluctantly transferred to Midland Texas. Then in October 2008, we both were happily transferred to Denver, only to have the office close in May 2009 when we were sadly transferred to Houston. Little did I know Bob was going to retire from ConocoPhillips and move to Golden Colorado the same day as me, March 14, 2010. I went to work for Linn Energy in Houston (and spent half my time in Golden), and Bob and Bruce Wiley went to work for EOG in Denver. Bob, Bruce, and I often joked that "Happiness is Texas in the rear view mirror”. Then after nearly 7 years with Linn Energy (aka LinnCo), I was laid off in October 2016 during yet another downturn of oil and gas prices.

Desert's Mirage

There's a place out west called the Valley of Death
where the Earth is scorched by the sun,
the dry winds blow and the tumbleweeds roll
from morning ‘till the hot day's done.

In remote arroyos are herds of burros
who've descended from settler's times,
while wily coyote chase hare in the high country
as they scurry amongst juniper and pines.

‘Tis here Mother Earth has lifted her skirt
and exposed her ageless beauty,
her structures are bold with magnificent folds
yet her skin is delicate as a lily.

She's very old but adorned with gold
and borax and talc and salts,
her wrinkles are deep with countless creeks
that are scarred by recent faults.

There isn't a breath in this Valley of Death
yet it's peaceful and gives my soul pause,
it's hard to describe the feelings inside
since they change like the desert's mirage.

This was written during and after a four-day jeep trip in Death Valley with my brother Tim and his friends Jerry, Billy, Joey, and Shawn, in March 2012. We camped in remote canyons and enjoyed each other’s companionship.

The Plight of Fred & Nadine

There once was a duck named Fred
who liked to eat old bread.
He'd waddle around
all over the ground
and might eat an insect instead.

Fred's friend's name was Nadine,
she preferred eating sardine.
From morning 'till night
and even in flight
she'd dream of this tasty cuisine.

Each day these ducks would roam
many miles away from home.
Finding food to eat
was an endless feat
so their stomachs often would groan.

This was written for my granddaughters Tava and Ila in 2012 on the way to feed the ducks at Prospect Park.

Terry

There once was a fellow named Terry
who decided one day to marry.
He was tall and fit
with lots of grit
but with Nia he'd sing like a canary.

Then one day they flew
over the mountains blue.
The family went west
and we wish them our best
in everything they choose to pursue.

This was written for Terry Coleman's ‘congratulation card’ just before he got married to Nia in 2013. Terry worked with us as a geotech at Linn Energy in Houston, but he was then transferred to Brea California.

I'm a Gnu

I'm a Gnu
     from U'bun'tu.
Why is it we roam
     so far from home?
         I haven't a clue.

I'm a Gnu
     I don't know about you.
You walk like an ape
     while pictures you take
         of things that we do.

I'm a Gnu
     but I live in a zoo.
This is my theory
     for why I'm so dreary,
         all we do here is screw.

or maybe,

I'm a Gnu
     but I live in a zoo.
This place is a bore
     but it's easy to score
         since everyone likes to screw.

This silly poem was written while on a 2-week safari with Donald & Pip Harvey and Bernadine Connelly. We visited the Massai Mara and Serengeti of Kenya and Tanzania, August 2014. Gnu is German for Wildebeest.

He's the Boss

They call him Atlas Cardoso,
    he's a fearless wrecking ball.
He's still young and having fun
    but soon he'll be growing tall;
       ... Growing tall.

His Daddy's an oilfield fracker;
    his Momma's fit from doing cross.
He's just two but in a few
    we'll all call him the Boss;
       ... He's the Boss.

This was written for my grandson Atlas on his second birthday (born 9/15/2015).
It's written to the tune of Baby Driver by Simon and Garfunkel.

Homeless in Whosville

Give them food, give them cloths;
they can camp by the Creek.
Give them shelter, give them toilets,
and they'll stay the whole week.

Whosville decided to give comfort and cheer;
now they've decided to stay for a year.

They told all their friends and they told their mates.
They told them, "Whosville's Opened Their Gates."
They came with their signs, they came with backpacks;
and soon Whosville was charging more tax.

The rhetorical question as to what to do about the sudden influx of homeless. In Golden, they are primarily the "neuveau" homeless, which is a bit of a lifestyle as opposed to classical mental illness. At least that's how it seems to me.

Rats Everywhere

Rats in the cellar, rats in the shack,
rats in the house: we're under attack.

We called Pied Piper and let out the cats,
then came the exterminator with fancy new traps.

It must be the chickens in the neighbor's new coop.
The rats love their food … and even their poop.

And when I'm finished writing this poem
I'll kill all the rats or find a new home.

On our NextDoor website, there was a lot of discussion about rats in the neighborhood in 2019. Some felt their infestation of rats resulted from neighbors getting chickens.

Poop

Poop in the front yard, poop in the back.
It smells like a barnyard: I'm under attack.

Poop from the dogs, poop from the bear,
poop from raccoon: ...poop's everywhere!

So I went to the house to ease my distress,
only to find my kid's poopy mess.

A variation of Rats Everywhere for another neighbor complaining about dog poop in the yard.

Rooster Roast

Cock-A-Doodle-Doodle-Dee,
     from our coop, it was time to Flee.
Cock-A-Doodle-Doodle-Doo,
     to the high country, these roosters flew.
Cock-A-Doodle-Doodle-Dulch,
     now here we are at Crawford Gulch.

Cluckity-Cluckity-Cluckity-Cluck
     it seemed we'd found some better Luck.
But Cluckity-Cluckity-Cluckity-Clame,
     after us five farmers Came.
Cluckity-Cluckity-Cluckity-Clee,
     we got along better with Coy-ot-e.

So Cock-A-Doodle-Doodle-Doo,
over the mountains these roosters flew.

Again, the neighborhood website had a bunch of chatter about several roosters someone dumped at the Crawford Gulch Grange up Golden Gate Canyon. There was concern the wildlife would kill and eat these poor roosters. Little did I know, there's a "Save the Roosters" organization and they organized a rooster chase one Friday evening. I commented, "Roosters, really? In the end, won't they get getting eaten anyway?" No one liked my "roast" humor, so I wrote this poem.

Glenn Gray, Bill Connelly, Gerald Ginn, Baja California, 1991.

Rubicon

What's the trail that you're on?: Rubicon, Rubicon.
What's the trail that you're on, Glenn 'n Billy ?
It's the thrill of my life, we may just do it twice.
I just wish we could do it with Jerry.

Glenn proposed a Jeep trip on the famous Rubicon Trail soon after Gerald's (Jerry) passing in January 2019. Written to the tune of Billy Boy.

The Fledgling Finally Flies

Another day has slipped away
the Sun has come and gone.
And in the night I hope I might
enjoy a new day's dawn.

The month of May has slipped away
the Moon has come and gone.
Though having fun in the Summer Sun
for another Spring I long.

Yet robins sing and children dream
as the Sun begins to rise.
One life ends while another begins
and the fledgling finally flies.

Then one day they flew away,
no more robins sing.
Now songless trees lose their leaves
'till robins return in Spring.

It's been a year since we last past here
as Earth orbits the Sun.
'Twas a year with cheers and occasional tears
but another Spring has come.

Now robins sing and plants grow green
and humming birds grace the sky.
Most Winter kill will surely heal
and fledglings soon will fly.

Life's Journey

Journey fourth I know not where,
perhaps I'll know when I get there.
From purple mountains to shining sea,
this ribbon of highway beckons me,
young and wild and feelin' free.

There's boundless beauty to adore,
but now I see the distant shore.
I journey now within my soul,
mysteries of life I'd like to know,
old and tired and movin' slow.

Not Suited for HD

Fred frowned when they mentioned HD.
Said, "Keep it away from me.
My pores big and round,
and teeth needing crowns,
from the distance I look better, you see."

Royal Flush

The Queen sits alone,
wishing she were home.
     Masquerade!
Masks all around her,
the charade confounds her.
     Masquerade!
Yonder comes Sir Harry,
looking a bit contrary.
     Masquerade!
And there goes Prince William,
trying to avoid him.
     Masquerade!
Look around
there's another mask behind you.
     Masquerade!
Every face a different shade,
in Prince Philip's Masquerade!

I've never been a fan of any "royal family", but the charade culminating with Prince Philip's funeral (4/17/2021) surely was over the top even for royal loyalists. This verse was inspired by the song Masquerade in Phantom of the Opera.

Wiley

My puppy's name is Wiley,
she's a tricolor miniature Aussie.
Her eye's big and blue
as she smiles at you,
she sometimes can be a bit bossy.

Remembering White Rabbit Green pills make you happy,
     and Blue pills make it tall.
'Whites' keep you wired,
     while 'Reds' make you crawl.
Go ask mother,
     she knows them all.

And if you're feelin' troubled,
     or if sleep's comin' slow.
Or perhaps you just need
     help reaching a plateau.
Ask my mother,
     I think she'll know.

But now she's talkin' backwards,
     and clearly lost her way.
Which pill made her stumble?
     It's really hard to say.
We can't ask mother:
     she's cold as clay.
     ... cold as the clay.

In 1865, Louis Carroll wrote Alice in Wonderland. It's a fantasy about young Alice who fell through a rabbit hole into a drug-induced subterranean world lacking logic and proportion. After a series of confusing encounters with anthropomorphic characters, Alice says, "It would be so nice if something made sense for a change". Jefferson Airplane wrote the song White Rabbit in 1967, putting this classic tale to music.

Mother had issues with prescription drugs for as long as her six children can remember. This verse was written to the tune of White Rabbit, but focuses on Mother rather than Alice.

Escape Velocity

Traveling so fast,
he could hardly touch ground.
His speed increased,
now faster than sound.

He soared up high
above land and the sea.
It seemed he'd reached
Escape Velocity.

Then from the distance
came a mournful plea;
That brought him back
to reality.

He'd always known
the family came first;
And that gravity
brought him Down to Earth.

Love Her Still

She's just a bootleggin' hillbilly,
but I love her still.
The way it makes me moonshine,
I know I always will.

She was hard at work distillin',
when I asked her for some hooch.
I was expecting a glass of mash,
but instead I got a smooch.

Quotation Marks

A sentence ends with a period.
     "Unless it's a quotation."
"When there's a comma," he said,
     "It precedes the quotation."
"But when there's a semicolon";
     It follows the quotation.
You ask, "How about a question mark?"
     "Does it always go before the quotation"?
          Well, it depends ….

Some Politics

Big-Boy Pants

Biden borrowed some Big-Boy Pants,
Told the Taliban, "Do not advance."
"We'll be forceful and swift
if you disrupt our airlift.
You know you haven't a chance."

Biden tried to sound like the Gipper,
But forgot to pull up his zipper.
The Taliban soon saw
that he had no ... [nerve],
And already was starting to jitter.

Biden's 2021 withdrawal from Afghanistan was clumsy and deadly.

Ukraine

When Putin threatened Ukraine
Biden told him, "You must refrain.
If Russia invades
and hostility cascades,
thousands may die there in vain."

Then soon from Russia came
artillery shots into Ukraine.
" ... but incursions were minor
so I won't be a whiner,
and understand it's only a [war] game."

But their armies didn't disperse
and incursions only got worse.
Now what could he say
to avert a melee?
How could he effectively coerce?

Biden threatened "devastating force"
and "significant & unprecedented," of course.
But when he was young
the way it was done
was tell them to "stop it or else."

Then fighters and bombers came
as the world watched with disdain.
We've not seen such might
since Hitler's third Reich;
… perhaps Putin too is insane.

Yet Biden continued to bluff
to show the world he's tough.
But in the end,
he failed again,
since words just weren't enough.

With nuclear nothing will rhyme;
to threaten it's surely a crime.
Why would he say
"Prepare for doomsday"?
Putin clearly has lost his mind.

Said Finland & Sweden today,
"We'll join NATO without delay.
Our citizens all fear
an attack could be near;
we don't want another melee."

This new Ukrainian postage stamp commemorates the dialog between a Russian warship and the Ukrainian border guard on Snake Island. Russian flagship Moskva began an assault on Snake Island, a Ukrainian island located in the Black Sea. As a small island with only a single village, populated by fewer than 30 people, only a small contingent of 13 border guards were stationed on the island at the time of the attack. During the onslaught, the Moskva called on the soldiers to surrender in exchange for safety, at which point, the defenders curtly declined the offer. The exchange has been translated as:

Russian warship: "Snake Island, I Russian warship, repeat the offer: put down your arms and surrender, or you will be bombed. Have you understood me? Do you copy?"
Ukrainian: "Russian warship, go fuck yourself."

A couple weeks after the incident, the Muscova was sunk by Ukrainian missiles.

Putin Warned Zelenskyy

Putin sternly warned Zelenskyy,
"Your fate needn't be like Kaczynski.
     To avoid lock and keys
     just drop to your knees
and behave as did Lewinsky."

This is a follow-up to old anonymous (amended) limericks about Lewinsky and Kaczynski.

There once was a gal named Lewinsky
who played the flute like Stravinsky.
     As she crooned him a tune,
     Bill howled at the moon,
and headlines they stole from Kaczynski.

Lewinsky and Clinton have shown
what Kaczynski must surely have known:
That an intern is better
than a bomb in a letter,
should ever you want to get blown.

Alphabet Soup (aka, LGBTQUIA+)

He's Bi with a gal
and Gay with a guy.
He's Queer all the time
and might give Trans a try.

She's Les with a lady,
and Unsure with a guy.
But of this we're certain,
she's not Asex or hermaphrodeye [Intersex].

Build Back Blocked

Joe Manchin's the bastion
who stopped the Build Back Bill.
Now they're dancin' an' prancin'
an' smilin' up on The Hill.

The Build Back Better spending bill was blocked by Senator Manchin in late 2021.

It Just Doesn't Matter, Bill Murray, Meatballs

Seems politics are always left or right.
There is no gray, just black or white;
no dawn or dusk, just day or night.
But who decides what's wrong or right?

Coronavirus Pandemic

Corona in Ramona

And the Grinch with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came with face-masks. It came with quarantine.
It came with medicine, vitamins, and vaccine.

And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore,
then he thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, this year, is plagued with Corona?
What if virus, perhaps, has come to Ramona?

This is an obvious spoof of Dr. Seuss's poem about the Christmas Grinch. It's written for brother Tim living in Ramona during the Coronavirus pandemic at Christmas 2020.

The Vaccination

Then came new legislation
that was passed with good intent.
     "You must all get vaccinations
     with no further hesitation
     and this virus we'll prevent."

"Since you've had your vaccination
please don't make such a fuss.
     It gives us inflammation
     and conflicts with medication,
     let us choose what's best for us."

"Let me explain the situation
using vaccine's not a sin.
     I'm just trying to save the nation
     from this viral infestation
     but my patience is wearing thin."

"Then we want your resignation
as our nation's President.
     You can stick your vaccination
     since we have no inclination,
     all you'll get is our dissent."

"I can feel your deep frustration
but my mandates are a must.
     You've received your stimulation
     (though it came with high inflation)
     so my guidance you must trust."

This is written in 2021 to the tune of Three Bells, by The Browns, 1959.

How would Paul McCartney advise Uncle Albert these days ?

Live a little, be a gypsy, get around,
Get your feet up off the ground,
Live a little, get around.

Live a little, get a Pfizer, be a clown,
No more virus to be found,
Live a little, be a clown.

Live a little, get a booster, play around,
Spend an evening on the town,
Live a little, play around.

Can't Get Rid of Covid Blues

Here I lie in Ramona,
sick with the virus Corona.
I feel like hell
and cannot smell,
but glad I don't have pneumonia.

In five days' time, I finally felt fine:
free from the virus Corona.
Then again it hit,
now I'm sick as shit,
as I lie in bed in Ramona.

Tim & Lavonna live in Ramona CA and caught the virus in early 2022.

Sick at Sea

On a crisp December day
while crabbing in Monterey,
Captain Osiris
came down with the virus
now crew's confined to sick bay.

Joey caught the virus from his Captain in Monterey Bay in early 2022.

UCSC & Geology

Salute to Casey

On a cold spring day we were making our way
to the distant shores of Kodiak.
The winds were howling, and the seas were scowling,
and Casey and I clung to the Zodiac.

It's a mystery why our fuel went dry:
drifting, we thought we might drown.
Consumed by fear we searched through our gear
'till emergency fuel we found.

Then on we went 'till we found Hill's tent
which offered shelter and warm.
We spoke of our ventures and drank a few quenchers
as the seas continued to churn.

It was earliest June 1974, Kodiak Islands. Casey and I just embarked on our first trip in our new Zodiac, traveling from Larson Bay Cannery to the outer shore of Uyak Bay where it opens to Shelikof Straits. We were hyped and the inflatable skiff was packed tight with gear for several days. Malcolm and Betsy Hill left a day earlier in their inflatable and should already have had a tent camp established at our point of rendezvous. Just as Casey and I left the quiet waters of Larson Bay and out into the open ocean of Uyak Bay, the winds began to howl out of the NW down the bay. Swells were the size of box cars and we were drenched with spray. As luck would have it, our course was right into the wind and we consumed much more fuel than anticipated. We ran out of gas and were drifting in the wind. Unfortunately, our extra fuel was in the front of the bow, so all of our gear was between us and the fuel. To make matters worse, the skiff was covered with weather-proof canopy that fastened into the ore-locks. With the boat heaving in the swells and water blowing in, it seemed impossible to access the 5-gallon can, much less try to pour gas from the can into our outboard fuel tank. It was like one of those old fashion number puzzles where you kept sliding numbers around until they all were in order. Obviously we managed to get the gas, but it took a full half hour of rolling in the swells with blowing white water. We continued on our journey and found Hill's tent, but it too was having issues. It was pitched on the tundra and the tent stakes would not stay in the ground. The tent wanted to blow away. We ended up carrying boulders up from the beach and lining them along the inside perimeter of the tent.

Lost in Wonderland

I don't know where I'm goin',
... not sure where I've been.

This world's got me spinnin'
round and round and when
I think I've got it figured,
and finally understand,
The clouds start a formin'.

I'm lost in Wonderland.

This was inspired by Dr. J. Casey Moore who became ill with dementia in 2019. As my Advisor in graduate school, Casey played a critical role in my education. He was a great mentor and friend. His intellect was very important to him and those around him. It was sad to see him loose it in the end.

Chicxulub Asteroid

One Cretaceous night while Rex was sleeping
there came from the sky a fireball streaking
down to earth where it smashed in the ground
with a mighty explosion and deafening sound.

Rex panicked and ran while others did fly
from the ash and fire now filling the sky.
Air turned dark gray with acid and smoke
that enveloped the world in a deadly cloak.

As earth struggled with death and decay
some had to feed on this deathly buffet
until soon there was nothing to eat
and dinosaurs became forever extinct.

Chicxulub crater formed when a massive asteroid impacted Earth 66 million years ago and now is buried underneath the Yucatán Peninsula. The date of the impact coincides with the Cretaceous–Paleogene boundary (K–T boundary). The impact caused global devastation and climate change and was the cause of the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event: a mass extinction in which 75% of plant and animal species became extinct, including most dinosaurs.

Uganik Sea Lions

On a warm summer day in Uganik Bay
     while drifting in an inflatable Zodiac,
the seagulls flew high with their screeching cry
     and I was peacefully reading my paperback.
There was a gentle swell and in the breeze the smell
     of the coastal waters of Kodiak
where we'd been mapping a year but the end was near
     and soon we'd be heading back.

Then I glanced up from my book to take a look
     at what was causing so much commotion.
To my great surprise all I saw were eyes
     and teeth as sea lions churned the ocean.
I was completely dumbfounded the skiff was surrounded
     by a dozen bulls growling and thrashing.
My serenity now shattered and my book a bit splattered
     with white water from all of the splashing.

Then to my horror I saw two dozen more
swimming my way from their islands.
So I started my motor and engaged the rotor
to flee from these aggressive sea lions.

Near their rookery I'd strayed so they formed a blockade
to protect calves and cows from intrusion.
There was no time to waste: it was time to make haste
and leave this rookery in seclusion.

This actually took place in Paule Bay on the Alaska Peninsula, 1974, and Dr. Malcolm Hill was tending the skiff. Casey and I watched this drama unfold from the safety of a nearby islet were we were mapping its geology. Malcolm stayed adrift in the skiff as we were mapping. For more detail, please read the chapter Paule Bay. 2022.

Wax Me

People generally called her "Wax Me".
She was old, trusty and carefree.
I thought we looked cool
as she drove me to school
though to some she looked a bit dorky.

On a distant road-trip she died
when a piston came through her side.
Such a sad sad day
in that damp dreary May
when I left her on a lonely roadside.

This old 1967 Bug lasted all through grad school and beyond. 2022.

Blue Flaming Fart

A marathon term-paper we needed to write,
confined to our office now 3 days and nights.
On the hotplate we cooked canned coffee and beans,
our diets were unhealthy lacking proteins and greens.

Our intestines were angry and farts a bit vile,
so we passed gas outside then aired-out for a while.
Precious time this wasted from work at our desks,
yet to stay there and fart was really grotesque.

Then a trick I remembered from my wilder days,
I leaned back in my chair and set one ablaze.
But my colleague was peeking and it gave him a start,
when he saw for his first time a blue flaming fart.

True story from graduate school at UCSC. Alan Alwardt was the surprised colleague. 2022.

Kelp Forests

There it thrives beneath our reach
just beyond the white sand beach
under sunny skies and ocean blue
kelp forests flourish beyond our view.

From holdfast roots on the ocean floor
kelp stipes rise fifty feet or more
swaying there in the current's surge
fronds spread wide yet stay submerged.

Its ecosystem is so diverse
it's like another universe.
Fish of every shape and color
shelter within the forest's cover.

Seals and otters raise families here
swimming and feeding in waters clear.
Urchins and clams they feed their young
then play in the forest when eating's done.

We sincerely hope that someday
everyone can visit Carmel Bay
and swim in the cool ocean blue
to enjoy kelp forests beyond our view.

SCUBA diving in at Cannery Row during grad school.

Saga of Sage's Orals

This saga’s been shared two generations thus far
passing student to student at the Crow’s Nest bar,
about when her committee with wisdom misplaced
laid her PhD aspirations soundly to waste.

It was late October when she was scheduled to take
her candidacy orals with her future at stake.
She’d studied for months every night until late
hoping to become a PhD candidate.

The committee was tough and grilled her for hours
about geology and space and exponential powers.
Nervous grad students were pacing the halls,
the sounds of their shoes echoing off walls,
while outside was damp with cool autumn showers.

But it was taking too long and they still were inside,
“I hope Sage passes, but what if she’s fried”?
Just then she emerged with a big smile despite
a question she’d missed about asteroidal tholeiite.

Only one thing to do when orals you flunk,
gather some friends and get really drunk.
So we drove to the beach to do what we did best,
down by the yacht harbor we went to Crow’s Nest
to party together and get out of this funk.

We drank and we sang as the sea fog rolled in,
first beer and whiskey, then tonic and gin.
Though speech a bit slurred and wallets too thin
we kept on drinkin’ ‘till a quarter past 10:00
when the 4 of us left and went for a spin.

We drove to Peter’s and emptied his bar,
he lived up on West Cliff, not very far.
Then just past midnight when we were down to 3
we drove to Farrell’s for donuts and coffee.

Now the world was graced with 3 wide-awake drunks,
Sage was in charge since it was she who just flunked.
Though drunk and wired, on a journey we went
hiking through the forest to find Connelly’s tent
where he’d lived for months since he hadn’t a cent.

Tripping through brush in the redwoods and fern
it was 2:00 in the morning so far as we could discern.
In the distance we heard two barks maybe three,
“I’m sure that we’re close,” Peter shouted with glee,
“I heard some barks from his dog Wiley.”

Arriving in camp, we were now down to 2,
“Where’s Little David?”, we hadn’t a clue.
So in his memory we passed whiskey around
‘till just past 3:00 then collapsed to the ground.
Thus goes the saga, and most of it’s true.

Most of this is true, though some names are changed (or just not mentioned). University of California Santa Cruz sometime in the 1970's. 2022.

Blue Hoodoos

There was a mighty eruption long ago
that shook Earth from Texas to Ohio
ejecting debris into the stratosphere
causing panicked creatures to run in fear.

Time has no mercy for volcanoes and such
and erosion unending reduced it to dust.
Hoodoos from its crater are all that remain
reflecting off waters of Lake Pontchartrain
ethereal reminders of its furious birth
beautiful adornments of our Mother Earth.

Pilfered Brussels Sprouts & Beans

On terraces above sea cliffs at Yellow Bank Beach
grew acres of Brussels sprouts ready to eat.
To access sea cliffs he walked through the farm
and always was careful to cause it no harm.

But he was a poor grad student with hardly a penny
so to temptation he yielded in these pastures of plenty.
On a warm September day he brought an empty pack
which he filled with sprouts to carry out on his back.

Sprouts became the main course at dinners he ate
boiling them in his lab on an electric hot plate.
He invited poor colleagues to join him for dinner,
buttered Brussels with pintos was always a winner.

True story while attending grad school at UCSC.

Graveyard Shift

While going to college I pumped gas at night
wearing a uniform, bright red and white.
Started work at ten and finished at eight
business was slow, doing homework was great.

Slept three hours before petrology
and three more hours after biology
then woke up at ten and ate some supper
and went back to work at Tony’s Filler-Upper.

It was working out good ‘til I got held up:
“Give me your money or I’ll beat you up.”
I asked “How can you rob me without a gun?”
“I’m big and tough so I don’t need one.”

But I was lean and fast so I just ran:
“Come on tough guy, catch me if you can!”
He yelled, “I could shoot from a block away.”
I resigned from the job later that day day.

True story while working at an 24-hour gas station while attending college.

2022

Monkeypox

WHO now advises of an ugly new virus,
that's spread by sexual encounter.
Remember safe sex is better than pox on a pecker
since Monkeypox is really a downer.

East Jesus

We drove to East Jesus seeking something to appease us
and to meet the famous Junk Wizard.
She was resting in shade from some rusty old spades
and talking with a large horned lizard.

She poured us cold suds and sparked up some buds
as we lounged in her shady retreat.
Sharing tales of the years we shed a few tears
then went back out into the heat.

Slab City & East Jesus is an unincorporated, off-the-grid alternative lifestyle community in the hot, dry desert east of Salton Sea, California. The name refers to huge concrete slabs that remained after World War II Camp Dunlap was torn down. Slab City & East Jesus residents include people who want to live outside mainstream society and consists of squatters and anarchists; it is America's last free place. Salvation Mountain is one of many unique features in East Jesus.

This poem begs the question as to the gender of a WIZARD. 2022.

The Wagon

I don't want to get drunk anymore.
These hangovers I truly deplore.
Yet as the sun goes down
you know where I'm bound:
goin' drinkin' just like before.

I don't want to get drunk anymore.
My behavior is hard to ignore.
Friends say it ain't fittin'
so tonight I'm quittin'
and walkin' out this barroom door.

I don't want to get drunk anymore.
Yet I'm back here just like before
and I'm writin' this poem
for my lover at home
and hopin' she don't lock the door.

You know I'll get drunk evermore
and be the lush most abhor.
There's no use resistin'
'cause you know that I'm fixin'
to go drinkin' just like before. As a teetotaler, I'm clearly not the one here with a drinking problem. 2022.

Pride for Old White Guys

We're sorry you're feeling blue,
and know this is long overdue.
So grab a cold beer
and give us a cheer,
we've something in store for you.

We'll call this Pride for Old White Guys
and it's just as the name implies.
So just to be clear
it's your time of year,
from midnight until the next sunrise.

Stupid poem written during Gay Pride Month. 2022.

Pretty Miss Muffet

Pretty Miss Muffet
     and a boy named Russet
          were rolling in the hay
When little sister spied her
     and sat down beside her
          and frightened young Russet away

Silly parody of Little Miss Muffet. 2022.

Lot Sweep

How many sweeps
could a Lot Sweep sweep,
if a Lot Sweep could sweep ...

... a lot.

Saw a man with a push-broom sweeping a large parking lot and thought "that's going to take a while", then thought about a Chimney Sweep and about the Wood Chuck. 2022.

Making Theybies

Birthing person then decided
Sperming person was invited
Fertile egg soon divided
Theyby born sex undecided
Process seems a bit misguided

Trying to get my arms around correct "pronouns" and the like. 2022.

6200 Angstroms

A poem about Orange, he asked us to write,
not yellow or red, and surely not white.

Yet orange's companions are yellow and red,
just look at a spectrum, Dr. Snell once said.
In refracted white light, his prism revealed,
were all of the colors in a uniform field.

So given a choice of which color to write,
I'd pick the full spectrum included in White.

The AllPoetry.com contest called for poems dealing with ORANGE. 2022.

Orange Blues

She colored it Orange,
what else could she do?
She'd run out of crimson
and cobalt and blue.

So this clown has a frown
as he looks at his hair.
And people who see him
just stand there and stare.

"Yippee Yo Ki Yay",
he sings this to you,
"My hair is bright Orange
so I'm feeling blue."

The AllPoetry.com contest called for poems dealing with ORANGE. 2022.

Ode to Max McSwine

Fred's friend's name was Max McSwine.
We thought he was doing just fine.
But if I'm not mistaken
He's turned into bacon.
Seems his tumor wasn't benign.

Now McSwine's cold as the clay.
I stand by his graveside and say,
"You're flat as a fishtail,
and dead as a doornail.
We're sad for your sudden decay."

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest that called for a double limerick dealing with the image above; using aabba ccddc rhyming; and generous use of metaphors. 2022.

Twinkie King

Most call me the Twinkie King
and I'm here not just to sing.
So pull up a chair
we've something to share:
Let's see what our Hostess did bring.

This golden sponge cake is for you.
It's filled with a creamy white goo.
When you take a big bite
your taste buds ignite
with a flavor a bit like a shoe.

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest that called for a double limerick dealing with Twinkies; using aabba ccddc rhyming. 2022.

Turkey Stew

So Hickory Dickory Dickory Doo,
over the mountains this turkey flew.
Hearing farmer's stern voice
there wasn't much choice,
either fly or end up in his stew.

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest that called for a poem including the word "mountains". 2022.

Bernard's Last Stand

His name was Bernard and he patrols my yard
from sunrise 'till well past sunset.
His army immense, at dawn they'd commence
their assault on feeders, chickens and pets.

They were fuzzy and cute so I didn't shoot
and tried to live with the pest.
But when they got in the attic I became traumatic
so for traps I decided to invest.

Squirrels aren't smart and don't know Havahart
so the army soon was thinned.
But Bernard was cool and hard to fool;
it took weeks before he was penned.

Though caught in my trap he gave me more crap
and stoically flipped me the bird.

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest asking for a humorous poem about squirrels. 2022.

Flowers and the Bees

Awaken friends dawn has come
soon will rise the blessed sun
which will roust sleeping bees
who will fly on gentle breeze.

Our time has come to pollinate
to insure our species procreate
so our meadow blooms and grows
every year after winter snows.

Our bright colors interact
so worker bees we attract
to carry pollen on their wing
thus seeds will sprout every spring.

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest asking to write a poem in any form about the picture. 2022.

Deadly Passion for Thrills

His real name is Kong but he calls himself Tom
since brother King died last May.
While playing by the lake, they were bit by a snake
and young King passed away.

Pathetic and weak, Tom's outlook was bleak:
swelling wouldn't subside on his head.
Imagine the surprise when he managed to survive
since we expected soon he'd be dead.

Says Tales of the Wives, "cats have 9 lives"
so Tom had 8 more to survive.
Then thrice the next June he was bit by a 'coon
thus reducing his count to 5.

Now he weighs 15 pounds and patrols our grounds,
keeping skunks and raccoons away.
He hunts rodents at night by the pale moonlight
and plays with his dogs all day.

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest about cats' addictions and passions. 2022.

Black, or Very Dark Gray?

Is BLACK just a shade, or is it really a colour?
Depends who you ask, an artist or a scholar.
If an artist you ask, they'll say "It’s a colour for sure",
but if asking a scholar, they’ll say “That’s just manure.”

The artist responds, “Just look at my palette:
there are purples and blues, yellows and russet.
Often with pastels, like pale mauve and clay,
and of course black and white, which mix to make gray.”

“With all due respect, let me explain this to you
     (your friends there with you can listen in too).
In refracted white light, glass prisms reveal,
     are all of the colours in a uniform field.
But the spectrum, you see, lacks any black,
     so it’s not really a colour, that’s just a fact.
The “colour” you see is really dark gray,
     but let’s call it black if this gives you dismay.”

If finding true black is really your goal,
look to the heavens and find a BLACK HOLE.

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest about BLACK; 2022.

The Reunion

Our high school reunion's coming next week,
I've heard Ol' Whatsername's going to speak.
She was Queen of the Prom
then she married Fat Tom
and completely lost her physique.

Dolly Dingbat's organizing the dance,
but let me warn you well in advance,
she's dating that goofball
who couldn't play football
and enjoying a belated romance.

We've heard that Birdbrain won't come.
He's broke and a professional bum.
Whatsername offered to pay
for Birdbrain's flight to LA,
but he said, "No, reunions are dumb."

Written for an AllPoetry.com contest; entries include "old whaterface"; 2022.

Tombstone or Bust

I escape to the warmth of my home
where I've lived many years all alone.
But growth here in Big Bear
has become such a nightmare,
I'm movin' to tiny Tombstone.

Allpoetry.com contest. Must include these 6 words: Escape, Warmth, Home, Alone, Growth, Nightmare. No more than 6 lines long; 2022.

Greener Pastures

Riding with horses in the crisp cold air
peaceful and easy with hardly a care.
     Its early winter and starting to snow
     out of the mountains these horses must go
     down where the grasses continue to grow.

Mares and their foals are prancing together
lacking concern for the brisk winter weather.
     They whinny as they run with nary a worry
     through snow and ice and occasional flurry
     the roundup is fun, there's no need to hurry.

Allpoetry.com contest with strong rhyming words at the ends of lines. Subject is the image; 2022.

One Last 'Selfie'

Hiking high atop Mount Vesuvius
the crater below looked quite dubious.
When a 'selfie' he took
from an unstable nook,
rocks slipped and he knew it was serious.

Silly limerick about an event that really occurred in 2022.

Adrift

muse it seems has lead amiss
a life has slipped to dark abyss
left me here without a kiss

thoughts adrift sad and dreary
russet skies full of fury
all that's left is melancholy

My attempt to write a "dark and dreary" rhyme, for no particular purpose.
Brother Tim used AI software to convert the second stanza into an image. 2022.

Confused and Blue

There's blue states and red states
     and ones in the middle.
There's blue waves and red waves
     and ones that will curl.
There's blue balls and hard balls
     and ones that you griddle.

There's Blue Cross and Red Cross
     and one that is green.
There's a blue planet and red planet
     and one that has rings.
Devices have Blu-ray and Bluetooth,
     whatever that means.

It's all too confusing and making me blue.

Allpoetry.com contest dealing with BLUE. 2022.

When Forever becomes Eternity

He thought he'd live forever
     his life would never end.
But when he lost his brother
     then soon a childhood friend
he realized when forever ends
     'tis then eternity begins.

Eternity is infinite time. Space-time continuum. 2022

When Rhythm met Rhyme

Rhythm was a maiden, a poem without rhyme,
with cadence and meter like wings in the sky.
She flew in the breeze with grace unmatched
in search of a mate with whom to compose.

Rhyme would just chime all the time
from early morning until long after bedtime,
in search of a pretty mate before it's too late
with whom some poems they might someday create.

When Rhythm met Rhyme in early springtime
they became lovers right from the start.
Sweet poems they'd write, each day and each night,
Rhyme and Rhythm became eternal sweethearts.

Nana's Havana

You've not seen the likes of Nana
sitting outside with a Havana.
She looks so bazarre
with that big fat cigar
and wearing her bright red bandana.

Allpoetry poem to image, rhyming, 6 lines maximum. 2022.

Jolly Green Giant

Jolly Green Giant says "Eat lots of greens:
soy, squash, and sprouts are full of proteins."
Carnivores say "Eat lots of meats
in order to become fast athletes",
but most carnivores don't know beans.

Allpoetry poem to image, single limerick. 2022.

Enchanted Frog

She thought it was an enchanted frog
when she saw it through the jungle's fog,
so she gave it a kiss
expecting love's bliss
and a wedding with plenty of grog.

She admits that wasn't too smart
but it came straight from her heart.
She was convinced
it would turn into a prince,
not knowing it was a poisonous blue dart.

So this wisdom she shares with you,
if you see a frog that is blue,
don't it take for granted
that it is enchanted,
a kiss turns your lips into goo.

Allpoetry poem to image, less than 20 lines. 2022.

Maasai and the Lions

On a perch in the rocks above Serengeti Plain
live a lioness and her mate with a long black mane.
The lioness bore cubs in their lair last year
not long before father was killed by a spear.
Now a year old, the males hunt with the pride,
one will become dominate since father has died.

Maasai warriors also hunt Serengeti Plain
to feed their families animals they've slain.
Last year a lion was killed by their spears,
his black-maned cubs are still sad with tears.

Allpoetry poem about Africa.

Itsy Bitsy Spiders up on Mother's Back

The itsy bitsy spiders went on a walkabout,
up on mother's back, to check the barnyard out.
Along came a pig and scared them all away,
so the itsy bitsy spiders crawled back into the hay.

Serene sent me this picture from her back yard. 2022.

Detestable Scalawag

You sold us a Chevy, said "It runs very good,
there's really no need to look under the hood."
Based on your history we knew that we should,
… if we did it again, you know that we would.

You said not to worry that you'd make us a deal.
But the car was a lemon with rings that don't seal,
and we're still not sure what's wrong with the wheel,
… all said and done, this was an unpleasant ordeal.

These words you've earned though we don't mean to nag,
you're a raucous rapscallion and a contemptible scumbag.
You're an unscrupulous scoundrel and a lousy douchebag,
… putting it more bluntly, you're a detestable scalawag !

Allpoetry poem about Scalawag.

When You Go Commando

When you go commando don't put on a peep show
by forgetting to button your fly.
You'll feel much better if you keep your pecker
in a place where it's warm and dry.

Gangster Gala

Holy Toledo he wore a tutu tuxedo
complete with a top hat this year ...,
and according to rumors he wore blue bloomers
that matched the ring in his ear.

Allpoetry poem to the image.

Biscuits and Gravy

Betty's best breakfast
was like no other,
buttered baked biscuits
in gravy she'd smother.

Allpoetry poem, humorous, rhyming, with about 15 words.

Once Upon a Starry Night

The village slept while the night sky was spinning
as the moon and stars spun fractals unending.
His mind was tormented from visions confusing
and sounds in his head like somebody screaming.
To ease his anguish he painted turbulent swirling
but hallucinatory voices never stopped speaking.

Allpoetry poem about picture, six lines long.

Van Gogh suffered from severe psychotic episodes that became worst in the final 2 years before his suicide at 37 years of age. Starry Night was painted while he was living in an asylum less than a year before his death. Earlier in these final 2 years Vincent cut off part of his ear with a razor, apparently to stop hallucinatory voices.

Dos Compañeros

My younger dog's name is Wiley
she's a tricolor miniature Aussie.
Her eye's big and blue
as she smiles at you
she sometimes can be a bit bossy.

Wiley's big brother is named Earl
he's a long-hair miniature blue-merle.
His tongue long and wet
makes it hard to forget
especially when he gives it a whirl.

Wiley and Earl are compañeros
where one goes the other one follows.
If they run in the pig sties
while chasing the magpies
they'll play with the pig as it wallows.

Allpoetry.com poem about 2 dogs, any format.

Left Field

Our lives we plan as best we can
knowing future is unpredictable.
So as time proceeds one always needs
to adjust for the inexplicable.

Battle plans end when conflicts begin
and chaos becomes plan of the day.
Yet plan we must and with time we adjust
for surprises along the way.

Have your goals in mind as plans you refine
knowing chaos will try to prevail.
Keep your eyes peeled for things outta left field
since future is difficult to foretell.

This is a take-off on Robert Burns poem Mice an' Men.
"Best laid plans of mince & Men often go awry."

Carnival Loo

Two kids with nothing to do
decided to go to the zoo.
When cages they smelled
both of them yelled,
"This smells like a Carnival Loo."

Enchanged Frog

He looked like a normal frog living in the Parish bog
but in truth he was enchanted.
He once was a handsome Prince from the Valley of Galince
where furtile farms all were planted.

Together with King and Queen in a Castle in Aberdeen
their Kingdom was prosperous and merry.
But wicked shadows lurked as the witch's cauldron perc'ed,
an scheme was brewing for Prince Larry.

On a damp and dreary day late in the month of May
whe meadows were green and foggy,
the wicked witch drew, then her poison arrow flew
and Prince Larry turned into a froggy.

So the legend goes, though who really knows
what became of handsome Prince Larry.
Some say an evil spell from a witch they knew too well,
the Kingdom drew dark and scary.

Some think he's an enchanted frog living in Perish bog
just waiting for a kiss from a lady.
A kiss from a village belle would break the witch's spell
restoring the frog to Prince Larry.

Allpoetry.com contest for the Ultimate Frog Prince, 165 word maximum.
To the tune of "Last Train from Poor Valley" by Norman Blake and Tony Rice.

German Import

Good morning my friends this car is for you
step up and buy this fine V-W
Get some wheels and you won't need a mule

Allpoetry.com contest, to image, 25 words maximum.

Svetlana Set Sail

With morning's red sky Svetlana set sail
silhouette of the coast orange and pale
seas still calm though expecting a gale
gone from the harbor with nary a trail.

Sailing due east toward the rising sun
she dodges angry swells one by one,
"Aye Svetlana, we're on the run
sailin' rough seas for evil we've done."

Allpoetry.com contest, 8 lines about image.

A Walk in the Park

While sitting at home I'm writing this poem
to share with poets on AP,
but inside I fear some veterans might sneer
since it may be a bit too cheery.

Many'd rather write of sadness and plight
and of thoughts dark and dreary.
They write of love lost and lines that were crossed
and things that weren't meant to be.

All we have is now, so enjoy it somehow
and ignore dark thoughts you're thinking,
perhaps walk in the park to watch children lark
and smile at the guy who's winking.

Allpoetry.com contest about "all we have is now", 12 to 24 lines.

Grand Canyon Gorge

upon this mighty river we float
you and me in an inflatable boat
between walls of Vishnu Schist
'tis here, my love, we first kissed

Allpoetry.com contest to image, 25 words or less.

Dreaming of You

In shades of blue I think of you
walking barefoot on the beach
with head held high and spark in your eye
and laughter in your speech.

As autumn breeze blows yellow leaves
of the mystical coastal larch,
'tis in this bliss we finally kiss
beneath the delicate arch.

But then I wake with a startled take
that it's still the Ides of March.

Allpoetry.com contest to image, 10 lines.

Siberian Classic

Moskvitch is quite weathered
after seven score and three
abandoned alone under a tree
alas she's the same age as me

Allpoetry.com poem to image, exactly 22 words.

The Key to Winning

he is a fool
to enter when
every time
we know who will win

but he got keyed up
and entered again

All Poetry contest to image, exactly 22 words. This contest was run by one of a 4-some in an mutual admiration cliché on AP. Reviewing the results of their last 14 contests (each one of the four) revels some 80% of the time the same poets are amoung the top three winners. This was my way of saying bullschist and goodbye to your future contests.

Do-Right Mortuary

Dan's good at his job and he's quite polite
as he gleefully works 'til after midnight.
His sermons are smooth and he can recite
mournful benedictions with such delight,
he's the chipper mortician Dan Do-Right.

Chignik Lagoon

Headwinds are strong so our ground speed's slow
it's rough and bumpy and fuels running low,
if this is the Pass we have fifty miles to go
but without instruments I don't really know.

If my math is right we've fuel for an hour
wish we could tune-in to that radio tower
and set a direct course to Chignik Lagoon,
there'd be ample fuel and we'd land soon.

But the ceiling's low and visibility's poor
I say we fly north but I'm not really sure.
If we run out of fuel we'll need to land,
mountains are steep, don't know if we can.
If we keep our heads and auto-rotate down
and carefully look for a bit of flat ground ....

For now we'll fly north towards Bristol Bay
though it's into the wind and everything's gray,
it's the best shot we have so come what may,
... I hope we live through the rest of the day.

To calm my nerves I start humming a tune,
Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle,
the cow jumped over the moon.
If we have good luck and don't run amuck
we should land at Chignik real soon.

Yippee yo ki yo, yippee yo ki yay,,
I sure hope we're flying the right way.
Fiddle diddy da, fiddle diddy day,
for the religious it's a good time to pray.

There's a blond grizzly; reds will spawn soon;
I'm gettin' real nervous; lookout for that loon;
here comes an eagle; "Would you like a drink;
do you think that our radio's still on the blink?"

"There up ahead I can see the coastline,
just follow it east and we should be fine.
We'll be back in camp before supper time
enjoying some glasses of fine red wine."

This occurred in July 1977 while I was the Party Chief for a geological mapping project on the Alaska Peninsula. Eric Pandella was flying and I was navigating, and we were running dangerously low on jet fuel due to unanticipated headwinds. We were out of range with the radio and flying adjacent to Mount Veniaminof in the Chignik region. What the poem doesn't say is that in the back seat of the helicopter were AMOCO Oil executives Jim Vanderbeek and Bob Brooke who were visiting for a few days. Eric and I discussed our situation privately on the intercom and the executives never knew of the danger.

Tweet, Twitter, Twought

"Tweet, twitter, twought," the Twitter birdie thought.
But birdie's now distraught, since Twitter Elan bought.
Are tweets now for naught? "Tweet, Twitter", squat.

Pretty Flowers for Sale

"Flowers for sale, three for a dime.
If you buy now I'll write you a rhyme
about hats that you wear
or perhaps how you stare
at my bum as I pass here each time."

"Those cute little hats I adore
but the way you stare I abhor,
so don't be a chump
and stare at my rump,
I'm selling flowers, nothing more."

Allpoetry.com contest for double limerick to the image.

Death in the Doldrums

Watched the moon wax then watched it wane
time after time as we float here in vain
coming from Brazil after delivering grain
sailing transatlantic and heading to Spain
stranded in doldrums, no wind on the main

We’ve been here so long there’s nothing to eat
we drank all the whiskey and ate all the meat
damned be the weevils that spoiled the wheat
we’ve eaten two sailors who died from the heat
the sea has no mercy, this is mortal defeat

Allpoetry.com contest, 10-lines to the image.

Something Still Grows

Though getting older, something still grows,
like my feet or my ears or even my nose.
But what stays the same, every man knows,
is what's most important when not wearing clothes.

Avian Physics

As autumn's sun sets in the west
a gaggle of geese leave the nest
southward bound, no time to rest.
Their clever V's proudly ascend
floating on vortices to buck wind.

Allpoetry.com contest to image, 6 lines or less.

Vaquero Señor Roberto

Una tarde calurosa in Orinoco
montó el vaquero señor Roberto
con un amplio sombrero blanco
en su ayuno caballo poderoso.

A hot afternoon in Orinoco
rode the cowboy Mr. Roberto
with a wide white sombrero
on his fast mighty horse.

Allpoetry.com contest, 20 words in 4 lines, 5 words per line.

Social Security & COLA

Inflation unending, goes up all year
yet COLA increases are in the rear,
thus SS is short it would appear
at times when inflation is severe.

March Hare

"You're just in time to have some wine,"
the March Hare said with a smirk.
Alice looked around but none was found,
said, "There's no need to be a jerk."

March Hare just grinned and looked chagrined,
said, "Were you invited to my soiree?
Surely you see it's time for tea
and this is my happy unbirthday."

"But we've plenty to share so pull up a chair
let me pour you a cup of tea.
Have a fresh scone and don't sit alone
please sit in the chair beside me."

Allpoetry.com contest, poem to image, less than 165 words.

Verbiage in the fable were:
"Have some wine," the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. "I don't see any wine," she remarked.
"There isn't any," said the March Hare.
"Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it," said Alice angrily.
"It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited," said the March Hare.

Complicated Affair

Mantis mating's a complicated affair
If he fails to subdue he becomes her fare
The male being smaller hasn't a prayer
Off with his head as she continues to tear
Nutrition for offspring she soon will bear

Allpoetry.com contest to a bug.

Anthropomorphic Carrot

An anthropomorphic carrot
had an encounter with a garrote.
Though he was clever
his head they did sever
then finished his bottle of claret.

But his head just continued on
even though his body was gone.
Orange skin & big head,
it often was said,
perhaps we should call him Don.

Allpoetry.com contest, double limerick to image.

Saphira & Princess Serene

She was apple green with cute little wings
when she finally learned to crawl.
Her smiling face and feminine grace
didn't seem like a dragon at all.

Her name was Serene and she'd soon be Queen
if ever she would learn to fly.
Though a dragon like me, I think you'd agree
she seemed alarmingly shy.

Serene was content to enjoy the scent
of delicate pink Archira.
But with time she grew and finally flew
even faster than mother Saphira.

Allpoetry.com contest to image, 12 to 16 lines long.

Footprints in Time

Footprints in time, we're just passing through
    for the waves of time don't leave a clue.
Pyramids and palaces, however grand
    all fade with time like footprints in sand.
Memorials become dust and are all for naught
    for in the end we're a passing thought.

Rhyolite

In the scorching heat of Furnace Creek
in the year nineteen-oh-four.
Two prospectors found a seam of gold
and started mining the ore.

"Shorty" Harris and Earnest Cross
opened the Bullfrog Mine.
Soon was built Shoshone Mill
that prospered until oh-nine.

Prospectors came from distant lands
in hopes of finding gold.
They came with tools, wagons and mules,
suffering through winter's cold.

Rhyolite soon became a town
with saloons, hotels and masseuse.
Miners lived in tents and shanties
and even in a caboose.

In twelve short years the veins ran out
and miners moved away.
With no ore to mine or mills to work,
only ghosts chose to stay.

Allpoetry.com contest, 6-lines to the image.

Dustbowl Diary

    We're dyin' here in the dustbowl,
        stayin' longer's lunacy,
    so we're goin' to California,
        land of opportunity.

Folks are dyin' in this dreadful drought
gettin' worse here every day,
with barren fields and starvin' stock
we'll parish if we stay.

Dust storms howl every week,
the water well went dry,
kids have nothin' left to eat
so all they do is cry.

We've auctioned everything we own
accept our ol' jalopy.
By noon tomorrow we'll be gone
with Nana an' ol' Aunt Popy.

We joined the hordes headin' west
on Highway sixty-six.
If this jalopy breaks down now
we'll be in 'n awful fix.

She's weighted down with all we own
an' ridin' mighty low.
Drivin' across the plains is fine
but the mountains will be slow.

We set up camp every night
an' sleep upon the ground,
then pack our bags and leave by six,
we're California bound.

Dear ol' Nana's takin' ill
an' dementia makes it worse.
She needs to see a doctor soon
or else we'll need a hearse.

Sadly Nana slipped away
in the middle of the night,
so now our family's down to six
but the mountains are in sight.

Car couldn't make it up the hill
so we dumped most all we own.
Our tires all are wearin' thin
an' the spare's already blown.

Mojave Desert is deadly hot
so we're drivin' through the night,
only two days more to California
then we'll be alright.

There ahead are valleys green
as far as our eyes can see.
It must be true what they said,
"Land of Milk 'n' Honey."

Oh my god what have we done
there's no work to be found.
Folks like us are starvin' here,
so some are homeward bound.

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