... So It Seemed,   the rhymes
             by William Connelly     2021
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.



Caper of the Hot Pear Pie

A hobo was I, stealing pear pie
    one night by the light of the moon
when came there a bark from outa' the dark
    then a bite on my rump came soon.

I quickly took flight, hopin' I might
    avoid ol' Jake's further wrath
but my laces it seems snagged on my jeans
    and I fell face-down in the path.

But the hot pear pie sailed through the sky
    and Sam caught it without droppin' a crumb.
When ol' Jake let loose from my sore caboose
    me and Sam ate pie and drank rum.

Contest poem to image, maximum 16 lines.






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.

Contest 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 'til 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 grabbed 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.






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 and clothes, let them camp by the creek,
give shelter and toilets, and they'll stay the whole week.
Whosville decided to give comfort and cheer,
so the homeless decided to stay for a year.

They told their friends and they told their mates,
they told them, "Whosville has opened her gates."
They came with their signs, they came with backpacks,
and Whosville soon started charging more tax.

Then Whosville got wise and started drug testing,
and those who were high they started arresting.
Those truly needy, Whosville asked in return,
they work for the city, so handouts they earn.

Now homeless aren't high and work for their dough,
they sweep the streets and they shovel the snow.
When they don't work they do not get paid
and must move on if they're still wanting aid.

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.

One cool fall day they flew away,
     no more robins sing.
Now songless trees lose their leaves
     'til 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 my 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.

We loaded all her moonshine
    in my souped-up hotrod Ford,
hidden from any prying eyes
    beneath the rear baseboard.

Got stopped by Sheriff Jones
    at the Jackson County line.
He asked us "What's the hurry?
    Ya'll need to pay a fine."

Sweet Susie reached behind her
    gave Sheriff Jones his jar,
the Sheriff thanked her kindly
    as we drove to Jones's Bar.






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 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 'til 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 a 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.

     Actual rhyme:
"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
     stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags.
     It came without packages, boxes or bags.

And he puzzled and puzzled 'til his puzzler was sore.
     Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
     What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."

   -- Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!






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
     'til emergency fuel we found.

Then on we went 'til 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

Late in the night while Rex was still sleeping
there came from the sky a fireball streaking
down to Earth where it smashed to the ground
with a great explosion and deafening sound.

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

As Earth struggled with death and decay
Rex had to feed on this morbid buffet
until at last there was nothing to eat
and dinosaurs became forever extinct.

The Chicxulub crater (under the Yucatán Peninsula) formed when a massive asteroid impacted Earth 66 million years ago. 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 K-T extinction event when 75% of all plant and animal species perished, including Tyrannosaurus rex and most dinosaurs.






Uganik Sea Lions

On a warm summer day in Uganik Bay
     while drifting in our rubber Zodiac,
the seagulls flew high with their screeching cry
     I was peacefully reading my paperback.

There was a gentle swell and in the breeze the smell
     of the coastal waters of Kodiak
we'd been mapping a year but the end was near
     and soon we'd be heading back.

Then I dropped my book to take a look
     at what was causing the commotion.
To my great surprise all I saw were eyes
     and teeth as sea lions churned the ocean.

I was dumbfounded -- the skiff was surrounded
     by a dozen bulls growling and thrashing.
My serenity now shattered -- my book a bit splattered
     with 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 grill we cooked canned coffee and beans,
our diets 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 sit there and fart was really grotesque.

Then a trick I recalled 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,
he was truly amazed at my 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 Hoodoo

A mighty eruption eons ago
shook Mother Earth and rattled her soul
ejecting debris into the stratosphere
as panicked creatures ran 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

Growing on terraces above Yellow Bank Beach
were acres of Brussels sprouts ready to eat.
To access the beach 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 autumn day he brought a small pack
which he filled with sprouts and carried them back.

Brussels sprouts became staples 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 beans 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.






Homeless

My dog and I live in this tent
    amongst giant redwood trees.
I've got a guitar and an old gas stove
    and a couple of cans of peas.

Ran out of money late last month,
    no job, no food, no home.
September's come with lots of rain,
    shall I finish or shall I roam?

My grant ran ended at the end of May
     and my thesis is nearly complete.
I would be a fool to give up now
    and live out on the street.

In the nearby college I have a desk
    where I write nearly every day.
Been trying real hard to finish my work
    so I can be on my way.

Months have passed and it's now November
    and I just finished the last page.
If my advisor approves my thesis
    I can finally go earn a wage.

This ballad is about my final four months at the University of California.
It was a struggle, but I finished my PhD in record time and soon started work as a geologist.






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,
I'm the lush most people 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.






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 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 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 Contest that called for a double limerick dealing with the image above; using aabba ccddc rhyming; and generous use of metaphors. 2022.






Bernard's Last Stand

His name was Bernard and he patrols my yard
     from sunrise 'til 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 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 Contest asking to write a poem in any form about the picture. 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 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 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.

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.
   It's 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.

Contest rhyming poem to 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.

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
as she sits and smokes a Havana.
She looks so bazarre
with that big fat cigar
and wearing her bright red bandana.

Contest 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.

Contest poem to image, single limerick. 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.

Contest poem about Africa.






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, it 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 bluntly, you're a detestable scalawag !

Contest 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.

Contest 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.

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

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."

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.

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

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.

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

Contest poem to image, exactly 22 words.






Do-Right Mortuary

Dudley's good at his job and he's quite polite
as he gleefully works until after midnight.
His sermons are smooth and he can recite
mournful benedictions with such delight.
He's the chipper mortician Dudley 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."

Contest for double limerick to the image.






Death in the Doldrums

Watched the moon wax then watched it wane
time after time as we drift 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, we've met our defeat

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.

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.

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.






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

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.

Contest, double limerick to image.






Footprints in Time

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






Danish Hen

She knew he was near since she could hear
    cursing from the rusty old coop.
"Won't you join me -- for a cup of tea
    and a bowl of your favorite soup?"

"I'm chasing these hens back in their pens,
    I'll join you as soon as I can.
It seems that old fox raided our stock,
    there's two dead hens in the van!"

She sadly sighed then she replied,
    "We'll have Danish hen for dinner tonight.
I'll invite Bjarke and his wife Lærke
    if you think that will be alright."

Contest poem to image 60-150 words.
Painting by Marius van Dokkum, a Dutch artist known for his paintings
of Denmark in the 1950's.






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 the 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 more ore or mills to work,
    only ghosts chose to stay.

Contest, 6-lines to the image.






Dust Bowl Diary

These deathly storms are killin' folks,
gettin' worse most every day,
with barren fields and starvin' stock
we'll parish if we stay.

Dust storms howl most 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 and 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.

This damn 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.






Yeti Goes Suburban

Today we saw Betty with her friend Yeti
    on their way to the village bazaar,
his hair was flowing, their scarfs were blowing,
    she was riding in a purple sidecar.

She was singing a song as he whistled along,
    as they cruised on the warm spring day.
We tried not to stare at this curious pair
    when they parked at our favourite chalet.

Contest poem to image.






My Best Friend

These are my thoughts and I think it's true,
I wouldn't still be here if not for you.
We've been together going on seven years
with fun and rukus and occasional tears.

You stay by my side everywhere I go
through rain and heat and blowing snow,
we travel by foot and we travel by train
and once in a while we fly in a plane.

We snuggle in the evenings and watch TV
in that huge recliner, just you and me.
Then late at night when it is time to sleep
you lie in your bed with me at your feet.






Scottish Ball

A Scotsman named Mac McNall
dressed up for the holiday ball.
He wore his plaid kilt
but the way he was built
sometimes his privates would loll.

McNall didn't like friends to gawk
so he decided to buy a jock.
Though it felt confined
he didn't much mind
covering his tender shamrocks.

Contest limerick to image.






How Grinch Saved Christmas

Santa was lost in the snow
couldn't figure which way to go.
His instinct was west
but decided it best
to follow Rudolph's red glow.

But when Rudolph lost his way
a stranger saved Christmas day.
He was in a pinch
so Santa asked Grinch
who happily guided his sleigh.

Allpoetry.com limerick about Santa's reigndeers.






Blizzard on Red Mountain Pass

While driving our old Volkswagen bus
through Colorado one Christmas night,
a blinding blizzard and zero degrees
turned our tour to a freezing plight.

Red Mountain Pass is narrow and steep
and the road became slick and icy.
We had no chains to put on our wheels
so driving became a bit dicey.

Our talk thus changed from dogs and kids
to survival and staying warm.
"How long will it take to reach Ouray;
do you think it's in this storm?"

"My feet and legs are getting numb;
is there a blanket somewhere in back?
We're out of coffee; the radio's broke;
can you find me a little snack?"






Meet Me in Front of the Pawn Shop

Goin' to town to pawn my guns
    and Nana's old silver plaque.
I've taken cash from our savings account,
    we'll replace it when we come back.

With all this money we'll take a trip
    to romantic Niagara Falls,
so meet me in front of the pawnshop Nelly
    and kiss me under the balls.






Week before Christmas

'Twas a week before Christmas, when Marcus the Mouse
sought help from the Dog, and the Cat of the house.
Family cards were written and addressed with care
in hopes that by Christmas the cards would be there.

But family was gone, visiting old Uncle Fred
who lived far away near Lake Arrowhead.
So Dog and Marcus put on scarfs and cap
then put cards in a bag and woke Cat from her nap.

Dog, Cat and Marcus carried the bag six blocks
through snow and ice to a tall red mail box.
But the box was too high, couldn't reach the top,
so they climbed head to foot and cards they did drop.

All poetry poem about image.






Barnyard Queen

Young Snowflake was a barnyard queen,
for hours every day she would preen,
with lips full and red
it sometimes was said
"She's the gaudiest goat we've seen."

Then one day she styled her hair
which gave it even more flair.
Now when she appears
the herd stands and cheers
such glamour in the barnyard is rare.

Allpoetry.com double limerick to image.






Chitter Chatter

Those bits 'n' bytes and words that don't matter
with Tiks 'n' Toks and more Twitter chatter.
We gobble 'em up like cookie dough batter
'til we feel just like Carroll's Mad Hatter
and our heads swell up and ultimately shatter.






Where's the Beef

Poor Gertrude was filled with despair
when she saw how little was there.
She said "WHERE'S THE BEEF
there must be a thief
this bun is practically bare."

It's a bit like a poem she once heard
where most of the words were deferred.
No rhyme or meter
or iambic trimeter
just fifteen flowery words.

After hosting a contest on allpoetry.com titled "Extreme Brevity: what am I missing?
Write a poem explaining the appeal of micro-poetry."

This would have been my entry into my contest, were it allowed.






The Cow Jumped Over the Moon

"One day on my ranch just outside of town
the cow and the bull were horsin' around
their whinnies and snorts and bellowin' sounds
woke up both of my blue-tick hounds."

"When bull winked at cow, she flipped her tail
and I swear to you that cow's face went pale.
She softly neighed to this handsome male,
but her neighs, alas, were to no avail."

"The hounds just then started chasin' the horse
who charged at the bull with such fury 'n' force
that the bull lost interest, and then of course
    … the cow jumped over the moon."

Contest, poem to image 12 lines.






Big Easy Bard

Sean's life was troubled and hard
so he sought advice from a bard
who called himself Sweezy
and lived in Big Easy …
well that's what it said on his card.

Contest, limerick using "hard" and "easy" for rhyming words.






This Christmas Early

It's still dark this Christmas early
as winds do blow with snowy flurry
and colorful lights sparkle and sway,
still children dream in beds they lay.

Soon will rise our blessed sun
to warm the land for everyone.

Sun stays longer each passing day,
it won't be long before its May
and robins return in sunny spring
to build new nests as songs they sing.






COVID Christmas

Folks were saddened at this Christmas scene,
full of sickness, face-masks 'n' mandated quarantine,
needing medicine, vitamins 'n' virus vaccine.

Contest poem "What I didn't like about Christmas, maximum 20 words and 4 lines."






Palisades Park Pups

Puppy pals on a picnic in Palisades Park
spread blankets 'n' basket and barked until dark.
They brought many toys with which to play
like balls 'n' bones and a blue plastic tray
which kept them busy 'til the end of the day.

Contest poem to image, <165 words.






Nocturnal Affair

Each night ol' Horny would croon
for a mate by the light of the moon.
Cuddly or cute,
he gave not a hoot,
so long as he found her soon

Contest, single limerick.








Children's Rhymes







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 'til 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.






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.

Little miss Muffet
    she sat on her tuffet,
       eating her curds and whey
Along came a spider
    who sat down beside her
       and frightened miss Muffet away.






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.

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout
Down came the rain and washed the spider out
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain
And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.






Turkey Stew

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

Written for an Contest that called for a poem including the word "mountains". 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 Contest that called for a double limerick dealing with Twinkies; using aabba ccddc rhyming. 2022.






Hey Dickle Dickle

Hey dickle dickle,
a dog playing pickle
with a ball that looks like a moon.
The pickle dog laughs
while playing the sport,
and practices every day at noon.

Contest poem using the word "pickle".

Spoof of nursery rhyme, Hey Diddle Diddle

Hey diddle diddle,
the cat and the fiddle,
the cow jumped over the moon.
The little dog laughed
to see such sport
and the dish ran away with the spoon.






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.

Contest to image, 12 to 16 lines long.






My Dragon and Me

High above rivers and cities and crowds
perched on a cliff amongst fairytale clouds,
I came here often with my dragon of gold
swinging and singing fabled songs of old.

Sometimes we'd venture to distant lands
with towering castles and strawberry sands.
Or sail on our ship across sparkling seas
our mains always full with westerly breeze.

Then came a day, some time in my teens
I put on a dress instead of my jeans
and walked in the park with a tall young lad
who wore a green kilt with a golden plaid.

Now a young woman and mother of two
sometimes I recall the dragon I knew
when I was a child with colorful dreams
before meeting a lad, some time in my teens.

Contest poem to image, 12 to 16 lines.






Fiddle dee diddle, Fiddle dee dum

The point of my poems? What are they for?
There's so many now, do I need any more?
Yet here I sit with my feet on the floor
typing new verse 'til my fingers are sore.

Poems about dragons, poems about dogs,
poems about witches and enchanged frogs.
Poems with rhythm and poems with rhyme,
… some poems are just a waste of my time.

(Fiddle ditty dah, fiddle ditty dae,
fiddle dittle dah, 'til late in the day.
Why I'm writing this, can't really say,
(I need a word that rhymes with gay.)

Perhaps instead I'll sing you a rhyme,
and for rhythm I'll use four-four time,
while on my guitar I'll softly strum,
… fiddle dee diddle, fiddle dee dum.

Contest poem about anything using rhyme: "Sing Me a Rhyme Time."






What's Brewing ?

Dave dreamed that he saw five gnomes,
so alike they could have been clones.
He tried not to stare
at their long white hair
and caps that looked like cones.

In their pot steamed a blue soupy mix
that they stirred with two tiny sticks.
Dave took a smell
then fell under a spell
and became gnome number six.

Then came a fellow named Kevin
who thought perhaps this was heaven,
'til he smelled the brew
at which time he knew
he'd become gnome number seven.

Soon Paul showed up at the gate
"I can tell by the smell that I'm late,
I was getting dressed …."
[and I'm sure you guessed],
Paul became gnome number eight.

   Can you write the next rhyme      for gnome number nine?

Contest limerick to image.






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."

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.






Sweet Hector

Young Hector's a hatchling who hasn't a tooth
which isn't uncommon for dragons in youth.
So Hector eats cookies and candy and such
and often he'll sneak and eat way too much.

His tummy has grown from the sweets so it seems
and now he's so fat he can't pull up his jeans.
Mama Dragon tells him, "Please try to eat less,
you're tummy is bulging, you can't even dress!"

But Hector still sneaks the sweets from the jar
while Mama is shopping at the town bazar.
He hides 'em behind him when Mama was near
then shares 'em with sister when all is clear.

Now Hector's a Papa with a hatchling named Heathe
who just like Hector was hatched with no teeth.
So Heathe eats cookies and candy and such
and often he'll sneak and eat way too much ....

Contest 15- 30-line poem to image, for children.






Ballad of the Tin Man

Scarecrow stood beside the road, he looked confused.
Said, "People here are so unkind, I feel abused."
Tin Man smikred and laughed at him, he looked amused,
as Scarecrow stood like a stone.

So Dorothy said to Tin Man, "Will you refrain,
from making fun of Scarecrow, he has no brain,
though I suppose it could be, he's gone insane,
so please just leave him alone."

Cowardly Lion did't know just, what to say,
"We can see that Scarecrow's head is, filled with hay.
Tin Man's axe looks very sharp so I'll, avoid this fray,
or I may never make it home."

The foursome soon were singing songs, now best of friends,
they skipped along the yellow road with, twists and bends,
as they headed toward Emerald City which is, where it ends,
to meet the Wizard on his throne.

Tin Man told the Wizard that he, needs a heart,
and Scarecrow told the Wizard he's, not too smart,
while Dorothy longed for family since they're, far apart,
then Wizard roared a mighty groan.

But the Emerald Wizard was a fake, it was a lie,
and there behind the curtain stood, a little guy,
shocked to see them watching him, he looked quite shy,
since his caper had been blown.

Spoof of Bob Dylan's "Ballad of the Thin Man [Mr. Jones]."

A Kansas farm girl named Dorothy ends up in the magical Land of Oz after she and her dog Toto are swept away from their home by a tornado. Upon her arrival in Oz, she learns she cannot return home until she has destroyed the Wicked Witch of the West. The Witch of the North gives Dorothy the silver shoes of the dead witch and advises her to go to the City of Emeralds to see the Great Wizard Oz, who might help her return to Kansas. Along the way Dorothy is joined by the Strawman who needs a brain, the Tin Man who wants a heart, and the Lion who lacks courage.






Humptie Dumptie

Humptie Dumptie went to a ball.
Humptie Dumptie wore nothing at all.
All the young ladies and all the young men
Laughed at poor Humptie again and again.

Humptie Dumptie started to bawl.
Humptie Dumptie put on a shawl.
All the young ladies and all the young men
Danced with sweet Humptie until nearly ten.








2023







James Butler & Bill Cody

"Quit talkin' Hickok an' please sit still."
"OK Cody, but call me Wild-Bill."
"If you'll chill, I guess for now I will."

"Buffalo Bill" Cody (1846-1917) met James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickok (1837-1876) at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, when Hickok and Cody (nearly ten years younger) worked for the same stagecoach company. Hickok became Cody's mentor during this time. Photo is James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickok and William "Buffalo Bill" Cody in 1873, dressed for stage.

Contest poem about Wild Bill, 22 words exactly.






Rat Race

I hit the hay early and slept like a log,
most of the night it rained cats 'n' dogs.
I woke with the chickens on the wrong side of bed,
feeling under the weather with an splitting head.

Then I took a dump and put on my face
and flew out the door to another rat race.

Contest using colloquialisms and clichés.






Saga of Three Disabled Mice

When she saw three mice in the room
she cornered them with a broom.
Then her carving knife swung thrice
amputating three tails from the mice.

Now with their cute little tails in a heap,
the poor mice just cower and weep.
Though this happed two years ago
the mice still waddle around slow.

Bumping into walls they can't see,
lacking tails they're a bit clumsy,
wish farmer's wife would let them be.

Allpoetry.com, generally about Three Blind Mice.






Thumbin' a Ride

Hitchin' a ride from Salinas to Spokane,
hopin' to get there as soon as I can.
Good luck came early, got a ride in a van
with a cute young gal who called herself Ann.

Cruising north along Highway 101
sharing our stories of ventures and fun,
like surfin' big waves in the California sun
and campin' under stars when the day's done.

Ann stopped in Eureka, said "This's as far as I go".
I felt disappointed, as this came as a blow,
then I smiled and asked, "How much do I owe?"
"Not a dime", she said, waving from the window.

Then soon stopped a Volkswagen microbus,
said, "You're more than welcome to ride with us
if you don't mind sittin' in the back with ol' Gus,
the dog likes hitchhikers and won't make a fuss."

Contest poem about driving on a motorway, using end rhyme, up to 20 lines.






Trans-Siberian Railway

Instead of a plane we traveled by train
    since we didn't like flying Aeroflot.
The price was cheap and we hoped to sleep
    in the First Class cabin we bought.

But due to the snow our train to Moscow
    is now stuck at the station in Tyumen.
We arrived at noon and should leave "pretty soon,"
    according to one of the crewmen.

But the day passed to night with no train in sight,
    now the clock says it's half past nine.
Bought vodka from a gypsy and got a bit tipsy,
    then decided we probably should dine.

Approaching midnight we thought we just might
    try sleeping on a station bench,
but I had to frown when I put my head down
    because of an awful stench.

I counted sheep then fell sound asleep
    'til awakened from a loud megaphone,
said "Due to the snow we're unable to go
    and departure again is postponed."

"We'll depart by eight if we transfer the freight
    and plow all the snow from the track.
We're sorry to say we can't help the delay
    so enjoy some complimentary cognac."

Contest poem about time spent waiting in railway station at night.




Harry Filter App

He's a royal pain in the arse
and his soap-opera life is a farce.
Here is an app
to filter this chap
or at least to make him sparse.






Mi Esposa

Mi esposa se sienta en la ventana
en nuestra casa en Baja California
mirando las estrellas y la luna
reflejándose en aguas tranquilas
mientras me siento con nuestras hijas,
agradecido por nuestra hermosa familia.

My wife sits at the window
in our house in Baja California
looking at the stars and the moon
reflecting off calm waters
while I sit with our daughters,
grateful for our beautiful family.

Contest poem to image, 6-lines long.






Do Not Open

High on a shelf in my papa's old shed
we found a strange box the size of a sled
and on one side some big letters read
"Do Not Open"… that's all that it said.

We studied the box for nearly a week
resisting temptation to take a peek,
we weighed it and shook it and made it squeak
and thought perhaps it's an heirloom antique.

We x-rayed the box, first on its side,
then x-rayed some more 'til satisfied,
but the images we saw had us horrified
so the box was returned, contents inside.

Contest to image, 8-12 lines long.






Loggerheads Heading to Sea

They crawled to the shore from their nest
then stopped for a minute to rest.
Buddies they be
heading to sea
and travelling two abreast.

"No seagulls are feeding today
so we won't be a bird's entrée.
There's no need to run
so let's have some fun
before swimming into the bay."

Contest double limerick to image.






Penhen, oh Peahen

Peahen, oh peahen, where can you be?
Wherever you are come visit with me,
here in the shade, next to the tree.

I'll sing you a song with my train-rattle cry
as I strut and dance with plumage held high
…come closer my dear, no need to be shy.

Contest poem to image, 6-line long.






Hoot Haven

These are the owls of the Hoot family
who live in the forest on an old oak tree.
Up high where it safe to raise their offspring,
they eat and they sleep and often they sing.

This year the Hoot's nest was full to the brim,
… the five quintuplets could hardly fit in.
Pa Hoot would stand guard most of the day
then he'd fly at night searching for prey.

They're fledglings now and'll soon fly the nest
and raise their own broods somewhere out west,
high in the rain-forest with nests safe and warm
protected from predictors and winter storm.

Contest poem to image, 8 to 30 lines long.
Photo of Northern Saw-Whet owls by Carl Brenders.






Uncle Tom's Confectionery

We cater to kittens with our feline sweets
so they'll stay at home and off of the streets.
Try our Perrrrfect Gobstoppers and Whiny Gums,
or Aniseed Twist & Paw Drops, both by Clawsome.
Your cat'll love Cotton Tails with Sugar Mice,
it's on special today at half normal price.

Contest poem to image, 4 to 8 lines.






Ebb and Flow

Our dories are rigged and ready to go
can't leave for a while, tides still too low,
we'll launch as soon as the tide starts to flow
and cast our nets north of Cape Barrow.

Gill netting was tough most of last year,
bears damaged our dories moored to the pier.
Had to replace nets and most of the gear
and fish up the river not far from the weir.

Contest poem to image, 4 to 8 lines.






Comrade Napoleon

Free Beasts of England Unite!
Oppressive farmers we'll fight!
Please join the scores
who walk on all fours,
our freedom we'll win tonight.

All Animals are Equal on our farm,
like it says right here on my arm.
Farmer Jones we'll beat
so he can't eat our meat
or cause us any more harm.

Contest double limerick to image.






Bee-Eater Congress

The Bee-Eater Congress is out on a limb
debating on beesness, but results look grim.
The left-wing seeks more beehives and beer
while the right would keep it beelow last year.

The debates were heated beefore the vote
and some Bee-Eaters were clearly cutthroat.
When the vote was taken the left looked pale
since they knew the right would surely prevail.

Contest poem to image, 50 to 125 words long.






Autumn Splendor

Beech tree leaves in autumn splendor
venation patterns translucent tender
quietly quaking awaiting winter.

Painters paint their subtle hues
while poets ponder in peaceful muse.

Contest poem to image, no more than 6-lines long.






No One Here

No one here to slow me down
    no one to lead the way,
No one here to hear my tales
    in the twilight of the day,
No one here to laugh with me
    at the silly things I say.
Alone alas with no one else,
    no rolling in the hay.

'Tis here I live with furry friends
    in a shack by a dock of a bay,
Where I have no boss to answer to,
    no schedules and no pay.
I've lived out here so many years
    that now I'm old and gray,
There'll be no one beside my grave
    when I slip away.






Rainbows

Refracted through raindrops, the sun's white rays
create spectrums of colors in aerial displays
arching across skies with backgrounds of gray
these colorful rainbows are cheerful and gay.

But our rainbows were hijacked, it now appears,
by Lesbians and Gays, Transgenders and Queers.
This symbol of diversity worn on their gear
make some of us shudder and some of us sneer.

The rainbow flag (aka, gay pride flag) is a symbol pride for Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals, Transgenders, and Queers (LGBTQ). The colors reflect the diversity of that community and the spectrum of human sexuality. Using the rainbow flag as a symbol of gay pride began in San Francisco. Originally devised by several artists and activists, the design underwent several revisions after its debut in 1978. Although the original rainbow flag had 8 colored stripes, from 1979 to the present the most common variant consists of 6.

Wouldn't it be nice if LGBTQ would create their own unique symbol, leaving rainbows as simple wonders-of-nature for the young and fanciful to enjoy.






Big Bruce

Big Bruce is the bard from Berdoo
who's famous for his fancy hairdo.
When he rides his black bike
some say he looks like
he's just arrived from the zoo.

Contest single limerick to image.






Porcelain Pony

For much of the night by the pale moonlight
    I straddled a white porcelain pony.
Sadly my colon's still stinky and swollen
    and continues to feel a bit crappy.






Bridge to the Future

What lies ahead - beyond her view,
beyond her vision in a blur of blue?
Day by day as the young girl grew
she ventured forth without a clue.

Step by step - in the morning's haze,
it often feels like an endless maze.
She hopes to learn one of these days
what lies ahead just beyond her gaze.

Cassia (Rexie) Crowe in Canada.






The Golden Gals

The Golden Gals gather each Friday at nine
at the Ace-High saloon for a glass of fine wine.
They're colorful old ladies, a little past peak,
with ageless bodies, tattoos and mystique.

Six-Fingered Sarrah just got out of bed,
has glasses in her hands and two on her head.
Long-Fingered Farrah in a black low-cut dress
is looking quite smug though a bit reckless.

Three-Handed Hannah started drinking at eight,
got a tramp-stamp tattoo then just couldn't wait.
Bare-Knuckled Bellah we hear was detained
after maiming a stalker, she's now wearing chains.

Contest poem to image, 16-line maximum.











My Heart's Desire

There're hearts in the clouds
    and in stones by the sea,
but the heart I love most
    you're sharing with me.

Contest poem to image, 30 words or less.




Captain Snowbeard

Captain Blackbeard the pirate fell into the drink
where he met a young mermaid who said with a wink,
"You need a new look, something fresh and distinct,"
so she bleached out his beard and dressed him in pink.

Ol' Blackbeard was nervous when he climbed back aboard.
The First Mate was startled and he said, "Good Lord,
what have you done with your clothes and your sword?
If the crew sees you like this, they'll be totally floored!"

Blackbeard said sternly, "Don't look at me weird.
My life's been transformed, but I'll still be revered
as the fearless pink pirate with a fuzzy white beard.
If you treasure your life, call me Captain Snowbeard."

Contest poem to image, 60 to 125 words.






She'll Be Home Soon

Your thoughts are clear, there's no need to speak
when you sit there like that, hand on your cheek.
She's been missing now for nearly a week:
we worry each time she roams.

We need to get home soon, sun's already down,
please pat my head and try not to the frown.
We can walk the long way and avoid the town
down by the waves and foam.

I'll walk by your side as we smell the breeze
and maybe we'll play with that cute Burmese,
then I'll run with the wind through the Cyprus trees
and hope she found her way home.

Contest, 8 to 15 lines about image. This is my second contest to this image.






Furries and Frogs

So I asked my grandson if he objects
to kids who identify with the other sex.
He said a friend thinks that he's a dog
and another one thinks that she's a frog.
"As for me, I'm not still not too sure,
but today I identify as an attack helicopter."

Royce can be really off-the-wall sometimes.






Blackbird Flees

Blackbird flees in the dark of night
spreads her wings in the pale moonlight.

All your life - not a song did you sing
sitting alone - upon your swing.
Tonight your moment did arise
spread your wings - up to the skies.

Contest poem to image, 6-lines or less.






Wormhole

Down a wormhole I boldly stroll
    in search of substance not babel.
I'm hoping to find not just the rind
    or another rotten apple.

Contest to image, 24-words exactly.






Neolithic Knapping

Neolithic knapping at the knap of Nash Hill
are elegant evidence of their crafting and skill.
They align with the azimuth of the Twin Quasar,
parallel to the Wambuul where Casuarina trees are.

Contest entry. Write poem using the 7 provided key words.






Mariner's Melancholy

A sailor was he at home on the sea
    where he lived most of his years.
Now seasoned and old he sits in the cold
    musing - the end of his time nears.

Contest poem to image, 4- to 6-lines long.






Snowbeard's Début Review

What a cacophony of colours
    Xander modeled here tonight:
there was turquoise, tan, and flesh-tone hues,
    with scarlet, red and white.

Upon his head sat a little a hat
    that didn't look quite right,
and those apple-red bikini briefs
    seemed a bit too tight.

His fuzzy beard went past his neck
    where he tied it with a bow,
and he wore some funky shades
    that really seemed to glow.

For reasons why we're not sure,
    the costume seemed to flow,
so overall it must be said,
    Ol' Snowbeard stole the show.

Contest poem to image, 60- to 135-words.






Don't Feed a Hen K F C

Colonel got Hen a dinner treat:
a bucket of fresh chicken meat.
Hen didn't know, started to eat.
"Isn't he sweet, isn't he sweet."

Hen soon knew she'd eaten her own,
which sickened her and made her groan.
Then she wished that she could have flown
back to her home, back to her home.

Hen said, "Carnivores don't know beans,
hens prefer eating grains and greens
since they're full of healthy proteins.
It's in our genes, it's in our genes."

The lesson here, it seems to me,
is don't feed a hen K F C,
or they'll become sick as can be.
Don't you agree, don't you agree?

Contest poem to image, monotetra format.






Sixteen Dogs Waaiting to Pee

In the park by the old Oak tree
were sixteen dogs lined up to pee.
Each took his turn, one at a time,
lifted his leg and barked a rhyme.

When they were done, wouldn't you know,
ten bitches lined up in a row.
They'd squat by the Oak, one by one,
taking their time 'til all were done.

Twenty-six dogs watered that Oak
and the poor tree started to croak.
Leafs turned red and fell to the ground,
branches fell with an eerie sound.

The next day the dogs formed a line
and lifted their legs on a Pine.
In four hours the Pine turned brown
and by nightfall the Pine fell down.

Contest poem to image, with eight syllables per line, AABB CCDD EEFF GGHH rhyming






Knob Hill High

Four felines are making tracks
with their fancy new backpacks.
You think they look cool
walking to school
but here are the painful facts.

They're bullies from nearby Knob Hill
that were sent home early to chill.
They started a fight
with a cat named Dwight
who's in the infirmary still.

Contest double limerick to image.






Cool Cat

Kong's a cool cat who can't stand the heat
so he lays on his back - stretches his feet.
Sometimes he yawns as he twitches his ears
and knows that soon a cool evening nears.

In the coolness of night he stalks a rat
and eats it for breakfast on the doormat.
Then come morning and another hot day,
he goes to the barn and sleeps in the hay.

Contest poem about the hot summer.






Trippin' in a VW Van

Last I recall we parked at Woodstock,
decided it was time to take a walk
down to the festival to listen to rock
that was supposed to start at ten o'clock.

We met a dude with a long goatee
who gave us some pills he called LSD.
Not knowing better we both took three,
drinking them down with his herbal tea.

How we got here, we don't really know,
thought we were going to watch a show.
Yet here we sit looking out a window
at desert cactus and a neon light show.

The moon is blue and the rocks are red,
the music is blaring and a voice just said,
"I think that I'm stoned out of by head,
I'd like to go back to hear the Dead."

Contest poem to image, 75 to 150 words, any style.






Miss Gumdrop and the Ostrich

She sat on a tortoise
    that didn't much mind.
Then she sat on a gator
    that was drugged and confined.

She sat on a donkey
    also known as a jackass.
But when she sat on that ostrich
    she fell on her fatass.

I wonder if this photo was taken at the old Alligator Farm
across from Knott's Berry Farm in Buena Park, CA.
As kids, we took turns sitting on the Galápagos Tortoise,
American Alligator, and the ostrich.






Not a Bed of Roses

The 'Bed of Roses' we sought
was a peaceful easy thought.
But it now seems
our field of dreams
was a field filled with fraught.

Fields where our roses once grew
with their lemony yellow hue
turned out to be
just a fantasy,
so let's drink a 'Long Island' or two.

Contest double limerick to image, use metaphors.






Lookout Mountain Autonomous Zone

Bring fireworks and friends or come alone
to "Lookout Mountain Autonomous Zone."
From western Golden to Buffalo Bill Park,
the steep mountain road's a local landmark.

The Wild West lives here, laws are ignored,
drugs are abundant and are easily scored.
You can race loud cars or shoot your gun
without fear of the cops ruining your fun.

Join us up here and bring your sweetie
and bring some paint to add some graffiti.
Any time is good but nights are the best
when cyclists are home and don't protest.

When it's time to go be sure to pitch
used condoms and needles into the ditch
along with your empties and other trash,
then hide your guns and illegal stash.






Flaming Red Roses

Strolling together in the dim moonlight
your hand in mine - such a delight,
passions arouse - then they ignite
like flaming red roses in the dark of night.

Poem to image, 30 words or less.






Anguish on the Oregon Trail

Been nearly a week since we left Cherry Creek
    and already a wheel needs grease.
The prairie's been flat as we follow the Platte
    but we're lonely since losin' my niece.

She died from the fever an' we had to leave 'er
    in a lonesome grave near McComb.
So ol' Rex an' me are sharin' some tea
    an' wonderin' if we should go home.

It seems that ol' Rex still wants to go west
    in this squeaky old prairie schooner.
Let's finish our meal an' grease this wheel;
    stop fussin' an' we'll get there sooner.

Poem to image, 4 to 12 lines long.

Cherry Creek is located near present day Denver on the South Platte River, just south of the Oregon Trail. The Oregon Trail followed the Platte and North Platte Rivers northwest through Nebraska and Wyoming in desolate prairie. Small Pox and Yellow Fever plagued settlers of the early frontier and many died. Prairie schooners were the preferred covered wagons used by early settlers.






Smitty's Demise

Rainbows of color fill morning skies
    over ruins of Smitty's house.
Nobody knows what caused her demise
    or what became of her spouse.

Poem to image, 4 lines.






Dragon Tea

A cup of dragon tea may seem
to have above a faint gray gleam
as ghosts of dragons rise like steam,
I catch my breath and do not scream.

And as I watch the dragons soar,
there was just one but now there's four.
Said, "We're not here to settle score,
we want some tea, nothing more."

Poem to image, less than 150 words.






Saga of Fiddle DeDee

A lovely young lass named Diddle DeDum
had skin like a peach and smelled like a plumb.
But her friends thought, her name sounded dumb
so they nicknamed her “Fiddle” just for fun.

When Fiddle DeDum turned twenty-three
she met a young lad named Twiddle DeDee.
They soon wed and on their marriage decree
her new name was written, Fiddle DeDee.

Fiddle got pregnant and could hardly walk,
she got so big, it was hard not to gawk.
Soon she had triplets, and it came as a shock,
when they named them,
             Hickory, Dickory, Dock.

Poem about Fiddle-de-dee, 90 to 350 words.






Harvet Moon Okotberfest

Dear Friends and Neighbors
please join us tonight
at Maple Grove Barn
and we'll party all night

Arrive at moon-rise, stay until moon-set
Bring family and friends, and don't forget,

It's a potluck smorgasbord
so bring anything
We will dance and yodel -
we will fiddle and sing

Poem to image, 4 to 10 lines.






You and Me and Mount Fuji

Mount Fuji was crowned with colorful lenses
of a gray and pink hued cloud,
reflecting off waters of ancient tanada
like a surreal ethereal shroud.

'Twas here we first met that warm spring day
under a pink sakura tree,
you in your koubai tatewaku kimono
me in my black montuski.

So many years now have come and gone
as our children blossomed and grew.
Yet here today reflects Mount Fujiyama
the same as the day I met you.

Poem to image, 8 to 15 lines.






Rocky and Boone

When Rocky Raccoon, and his buddy Boone,
ventured too far from their mother,
they strayed in a trap, then heard the door snap,
thus trapping Rocky and his brother.

Rocky didn't like that,
said, "We're gonna get outta here."
So he shook 'n' scratched, he barked 'n' squealed,
and finally resigned to his capture.

At morning's first light, it came as a fright,
when a man came to retrieve them.
They rode in his jeep, not making a peep,
to the mountains outside of Anthem.

He opened the trap, and told them to scat,
"and don't to come back to the city."
Then he said with a sneer, "you'll be happier here
where you can't scare my poor kitty."

Poem about raccoons, 20 to 40 lines.
Parody of Rocky Raccoon by the Beatles, 1968.






Give Me a Hand

Fingers on their buttocks wiggle,
   wrinkled faces smirk and giggle.

Two-line end-rhyme poem to image, humorous.






My Name is Bob ... with one O!

Doctors gave Bob a bizarre diagnosis --
   gynecomastia with hypertrichosis.

Bob's bizarre diagnosis,
gynecomastia with hypertrichosis.

Gynecomastia is an increase in the amount of breast gland tissue in men.
Hypertrichosis is excessive hair growth anywhere on the body.

Two-line end-rhyme poem to image, humorous. Second is a 6-word version to the same image.






Hedgerow Romance

Autumn trees were brown,
    and the sky was blue.
Leaves came drifting down,
    as gentle breezes blew.

We strolled there hand in hand
    and enjoyed the view,
along the hedgerow path,
    just me and Mary Lou.

The sun was getting low,
    and so the shadows grew.
She kissed me on my cheek,
    softly saying, "I love you."

A romance thus began
    with me and Mary Lou,
when autumn leaves were brown
    and gentle breezes blew.

Poem to image, a bit of a parody to the Momas & the Papas "California Dreamin'."






Calico and her Beau

A magical cat named Calico
decided to woo the handsome beau
who lived nearby in a rose chateau
with a young family with lots of dough.

His name was Tom and what do you know,
there on the bank where Garonne does flow,
she saw young Tom and started to glow
as she sat by him, shyly saying "Hello."

They walked paw-in-paw through Bordeaux,
taking their time, they strolled along slow.
They were talking together, soft and low,
when all of a sudden it started to snow.

All too soon the wind started to blow
and Tom suggested they take the metro.
Calico thought a bit, then she said, "No,
let's just snuggle here in the meadow."

Poem to imaage, monorhyme, no more than 16 lines.






Ballad of the Sleeping Lady

She vowed she'd sleep by Susitna River,
    and not wake 'til return of her chief.
But the warriors didn't return from battle
    so she lies here alone in grief.

Such is the legend of the race of giants
    as told by the Dena'ina Nation.
And so the Sleeping Lady lies alone
    while trains pass in fascination.

Mount Susitna is also known as Sleeping Lady for its resemblance to a giant sleeping lady. According to a Dena'ina legend, the woman belonging to a race of giants and she vowed to sleep until her beloved came back from battle. Sleeping Lady is shown here from the Alaska Railroad which connects Anchorage with Fairbanks Alaska.

Geologically, the mountain is a Jurassic Quartz Monzonite pluton which was scoured into it present shape by Pleistocene glaciers. The geomorphological feature is known as a roche moutonnée (sheepback) and is an erosional remnant of passing glaciers.






Bullfrog Trio

Performing today is the Bullfrog Trio --
with Fritz and Frank and their brother Frio.
They always put on a fantastic show --
kids from the marsh are all planning to go.

Their costumes are cute, don't wear any shoes,
their skin is moss green and has no tattoos.
Their favorite music is rhythm and blues
with funny lyrics that are sure to amuse.

Fritz plays percussion and sets the beat
as the trio parades along the street.
Frio plays flute as he stomps his feet.
Frank's xylophone makes the trio complete.

Poem to image, 16 lines maximum.






Gwen's Green Acres

Gwen has a green thumb
and grows grass for income

Poem about "green" with less than 11 words.






Just Can't Wait to Propagate

His name is Big Rudy, he's a blue-footed booby
    who lives in the Galápagos.
Though his wings are droopy and his wobble loopy,
    he struts everywhere he goes.

Big Rudy can't wait, to meet a new mate
    so he lifts his feet high in the air.
Hens love his blue feet, so he's sure to meet
    a mate who admires his flare.

During mating rituals, male Blue-Footed Boobies show off their feet to prospective mates with a high-stepping strut. The bluer the feet, the more attractive the mate.






A Veteran's Saga
(to the tune of Uncle John's Band, Grateful Dead, 1970)

The first days were the hardest days
when they sent you off to war.
Angry men in black P-J's,
hear the battle roar.
Ain't no place to hide,
no one at your side.
Woah, oh, there's so much gore,
where's the gal that I adore?

Come, sit, hear me play a tune
right here by my side.
I'll sing for you some songs of life
as we watch the rising tide.
She's gone my friend into the wind
but don't be teary eyed.
Sing along or I'll sing alone
don't leave yet to go back home.

It's the same story you told before
but try to let her go.
She left you that warm spring day
like the melting snow.
Listen to me mate,
it does no good to wait.
Woah, oh, does anyone know
where do the winds blow.

So, for now, please sing with me,
time is on your side.
Forget the sounds of cannonballs
and listen to the tide.
Smell the evening air,
forget about despair.
Sing with me or sing alone
don't leave yet to go back home.

Uncle John's Band Youtube

Poem dealing with Grateful Dead. This follows the tune of Uncle John's Band and is a tribute on Veteran's Day.






Time to Go, Joe

     (Jingle Bells parody)

Time for him to go
on the next election day,
everyone must know
he's just too old and grey.

Seems he's too left-wing
and he's not too bright,
the time has come for Joe to sing
"Adieu, Farewell, Goodnight."

     Oh, jingle bells, Kennedy smells,
     Newsom's on his way.
     "Just wish they were on my side
     on the next election day."

A year or two ago
in his basement he did hide,
then we elected Joe
with Harris at his side.

His polls are in the tank,
he slips and falls a lot,
he only has himself to thank
for the troubles that he's got.

Dashing through the snow
in a one-horse open sleigh
o'er the fields we go
laughing all the way.

Bells on bobtails ring
making spirits bright
what fun it is to ride and sing
a sleighing song tonight.

    Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells
    Jingle all the way
    Oh, what fun it is to ride
    In a one horse open sleigh.

A day or two ago
I thought I'd take a ride
and soon, Miss Fanny Bright
was seated by my side.

The horse was lean and lank
misfortune seemed his lot
he got into a drifted bank
and then we got upsot.






Innocence of Youth

Kitten and sparrow first met today,
neither yet knew sparrows are prey.

Two-line caption to image.

I'm reminded of an orphan duckling we found waddling by the side of the road in the State of Washington. We rescued her and took her to our house. We had 5 acres of partially wooded land where our dog ran free. The dog loved Daisy and they became best friends. Daisy would quack when the dog barked and they traveled and slept together. Then one day 2 years later a roaming dog strayed into our yard and killed Daisy, since she didn't know she was prey.






Tom & Joe

Tom got pardoned so everyone toasted
  Joe just smiled when he got roasted






Black and Strong

For most of the night the full moon was bright
    so the coyotes howled a tune.
This kept Duke awake 'til nearly daybreak
    which seemed to come too soon.

Now coffee Duke drinks as he yawns and thinks
    that it's time to go herd the sheep.
He drinks coffee black and he eats a small snack
    but his eyes will not open a peep.

Poem to image.






Miss Anna Mae

In this old photo of white and black,
    most thing are in tones of gray.
Yet though the sun shines at her back,
    we see that it's Miss Anna Mae.

Poem to image with exactly 30 words.






Siamese

We are Siamese refugees
We like drinking French martinis
We are waiting patiently for Madam
There is no finer lady than she am

We sit here primping in the mirror
We are calmly waiting to hear 'er
Do you think my pink bow's in style?
If you like them we'll leave them for a while

Based on a song from Lady and the Tramp, 1955.

We are Siamese if you please
We are Siamese if you don't please
We are from a residence of Siam
There is no finer cat than I am.

We are Siamese if you please
We are Siamese if you don't please
Now were looking nowhere and on down a style
If we like we stay for maybe quite a while!

Poem to image, 180 words or less.






Lucy

Lucy's a 'looker' with lots of flair;
flags down a bus with her leg in the air.

Caption for image, 2-lines with rhyme.






A Great Fall

From his safe warm home Kong went outside
    to pee and poop and mouse.
When a bear pursued he could not hide
    or flee back to his house.

He panicked from this fearsome beast
    and ran up a power pole.
As the bear pursued this feline feast
    he went fast as he could go.

And there he sat for about an hour
    meowing a sorrowful sound.
He paced about the electric power,
    thirty-five feet off the ground.

Before we found someone to help
    Kong tried to climb back down.
Suddenly we heard his dreadful yelp
    as he fell down to the ground.

He survived the fall but was dazed and sore
    and he had a crooked tail.
With a broken hip he could walk no more,
    so he laid there scared and frail.

This saga unfolded on Thanksgiving morning. Kong had hip surgery the next day and is now convalescing in a large kennel. He's eating and drinking, peeing and pooping, and greeting his dog when she's near.






Better Not

I thought I might enter,
   then thought I might not.
My creativity's waining,
   my mind is in a knot.
Since I'd likely loose,
   it would be for naught.

They're several good poems
   with their humor in sync,
so there you have it,
   what do you think?

Poem no longer than 10 lines, using two sets of homophones:
   1) they're, their, there,
   2) knot, not, naught.






January 6th

Incorrigible intruders full of distain
impetuous and angry, words profane

"Insurrection" we cried, "you must refrain
-- invading the Senate is truly insane
immediately depart, there's nothing to gain
incarcerate we will -- put you in chains"

Poem about anything with the first word beginning with "i", and 35 words or less.






Move Big Dog

Move big dog, I've told you before,
you can't sit in front of the door.
So lift this leg off of the floor --
a little more, a little more.

You need to mind, stop being bad,
or I will have to call my dad.
You know what happens, he gets mad --
then you get sad, then you get sad.

I've ask you twice, now this is it,
move right now or you're in deep sh1t.
Outside you go you big misfit --
there you can sit, there you can sit.

You win big dog, just stay right there
and I'll go get my teddy bear.
You know the one, with long black hair --
you'll make a pair, you'll make a pair.

Poem to image using monotetra form (four 4-line stanzas, each with monorhyme,
eight syllables per line, last line of stanza with four syllable repeat.






Pushin' Your Luck

Don't really care if you're the famous Saint Nick,
   if you push again, I'll give you a kick.

Two-line caption with end-rhyme.






Pushin' Your Luck

The breakdancing duckling was 'born' with the knack
to corkscrew and cross-step and spin on his back.

Caption to image, 2-line with end rhyme.






Ho Ho Ho !

He bristled his fur - his eyes filled with fright,
  when Santa Claus came to the house tonight.

Poem to image, 2-lines with end-rhyme. Written on Christmas.






Feline Fat Farm

Your kitties could lose their rotund physiques,
at the Feline Fat Farm, it just takes three weeks.

Two-line caption to image, using end rhymes.






Field of Dreams

She first hit the road back in fifty-three,
now Grandpa's old Willys rusts by a tree.
Alas she's the same age as me.

Poem to image with 23 words or less.






Pearl Dines Alone

Alone, Pearl sips on her wine,
it's only a quarter past nine.
She's sad and she doesn't know
if Kevin ever will show.

She looks at the clock again,
it's now a quarter past ten.
The waiter brings her champagne
but Pearl decides to abstain.

It's late -- still no sign of Kevin,
clock says it's nearly eleven.
She decides to light up a smoke,
coughs, then checks-in her coat.

The time is finally midnight,
and Kevin is nowhere in sight.
Though there is cheer in the air,
alone she sits in despair.

Poem to image, New Year's Eve, "Tell me their story."






Wall of Water

At a beach near Miami
with my cousin Manami
there came a tsunami
that washed us to sea

Poem about "tsunami" with 25 words or less.






Cowboy in Orange

Curly was a sacred white hog
reborn from a guru named Yog.
He loved to play
with kids all day
and sleep at night with his dog.

This summer Curly met Roy
who liked to play cowboy.
Roy rode on Curly
each morning early
as Chinsu chased with joy.

Double limerick to image.






Cock Fight !

Young Chuck found a hen on a rock
and mistook the hen for a cock.
He said, "Let's fight,"
and swung a right,
giving the poor hen a sock.

The hen said, "What the cluck --
no need to be such a schmuck,
I'm just a hen
practicing Zen,
the cock's over there by the truck."

Double limerick to image.








2024







Arctic Blast

The weather outside's so acute
my dog has snow on his snoot.
As he plays in the blizzard
with his buddy Wizzard,
they're cold but surely look cute.

Cute limerick for contest on very cold day.






Ho Chi Minh Deli

Ho Chi Minh Deli will fill up your belly
with fresh deliveries today.

A pig in a blanket, a goose in a basket --
a motorbike's on its way.

Do you want a cooked goose, or perhaps some duck soup,
or a hen that will no longer lay?

We'll bring you late lunch, if you're in a crunch,
delivered to your driveway.

We even do DoorDash, and welcome your cash
if that's how you'd like to pay.

So keep us in mind, when you're in a bind --
best deli in the beltway.

Poem to image, 70 to 125 words

Perhaps inspired by the old Mission Pak jingle:
"Say the magic word, say Mission Pak,
and it's on its merry way.
No gift so bright, so gay, so right.
Give the Mission Pak magic way."






Wondering Bed Bugs

Bed bugs in France might like to pursue
a fresh batch of hosts that they can chew.
We've sucked the Frogs until they're blue;
Could it be time to try something new?

Perhaps it is time to suck on a Brit,
be him a Lord or a drunken misfit.
We'll suck from his belly, then an armpit,
the change sounds ducky you must admit.

Poem about any "animal" with name beginning with "B".






Moulton Barn

Such a glorious sight to behold,
the Tetons with accents of gold.
An eagle soars high in the sky
with her casual high-pitched cry.

The purple sage is now in bloom
so the prairie smells like perfume.
There's a herd of brown buffalo
grazing in the soft morning glow.

    Moulton barn is now a hallmark
    of magnificent Grand Teton Park.

Poem to image, 4 to 6 lines.






Lama and the Mule

"I think that my shades look cool,"
lama said to the crusty old mule.
"Don't stand there and stare
with your tail in the air,
you look like a barnyard fool."

"Sorry but your shades look lame! "
mule couldn't help but exclaim,
then he vented a fart
giving lama a start,
and went back to whence he came.

Double limerick to image.






Marvels of Nature

In the tranquil desert of the great Outback
    countless dust devils form.
But one of these dusters mysteriously grew
    into a huge desert storm.

Powered by latent heat of condensation
    and spun by Coriolis Effect,
it twists as it rises up into the blue,
    clockwise the winds deflect.

Since this storm twists clockwise as it rises, it likely is in the southern hemisphere (possibly Australia). Coriolis Force is created by the spin of the Earth and causes deflection to the left in the southern hemisphere (clockwise) and to the right in the northern. Energy that drives thunderstorms and hurricanes comes from the latent heat of condensation. As water vapor condenses to liquid as it rises, it releases heat, thus energizing the storm.

Poem to image, 4 to 10 lines long.






Western Exposure

Rub-a-dub-dub,
my mate's in a tub,
with his hat, boots 'n' goatee.
He doesn't wear undies
on Sundays and Mondays,
but only birds can see.

Short humorous poem to image.

Rub-a-dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick-maker,
All put out to sea.






Southern Exposure

Hickorie Dickory's frock
ripped open while on a walk.
Her cute little rump
was naked and plump
as Hickorie stood there in shock.






That's All Folks

With an illegal smile and a roach in his han',
'Buds' said to Daffy, "Wuz happenin' man?"

Two line caption to image, with end rhyme.






Cool Commode

I cannot recall the last time it snowed
in this desert where there's unending heat.
Often I like to lie in the commode
although swimming in the pool's hard to beat.

In this dreadful place what's a dog to do
when the temperature's a hundred degrees.
But sometimes the commode is full 'a' poo --
graciously flush when you're done won't you please.

I just wish we could move to Alaska,
in Fort Yukon where there's a lot of snow.
Or perhaps we could move to Nebraska
where the chilly northeasterly winds blow.

Alas for now I'm stuck in this hellhole
and take solace in this cool toilet bowl.

Shakespearean sonnet to image, abab, cdcd, efef, gg; 10-syllables per line.






Monsieur Grenouille

    (aka, Mister Frog)

Monsieur Grenouille looks divine
as he sits alone by the Seine.
He's not wearing pants
(which is custom in France)
and carries a flask of white wine.

He awaits his tadpoles and mate
who are runnin' a little bit late.
He hopes they're okay
as they swim from the bay,
and don't end up being bait.

Double limerick to picture.








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