No one wants to be ordinary but everyone follows the crowd.
Uniquity? Popularity?
Those who seek to have their apple turnover over and over must first snatch it from the jaws of those members of The Apple Turnover Club to which they now belong.
Look at ’em go….(who am I talkin’ to?)
And, as for that cherry turnover? They look alike, you know.
They look exactly alike.
Hand that snatched the turnover
CRAP IS A FEELING
Crap is a feeling.
Feelings are good.
It’s when we don’t have them
(And know that we should)
That we worry.
But you’re still here in the neighborhood.
You’re sweaty, impatient
Your ready to kill
You want to fight
And you take your pill
So swallow
Wash it down
And wallow
Lay there in those stinky bed-clothes
With bugs galore
But Goodness knows
You are almost well
And you know
Because you feel like crap
And that’s a feeling.
© Lee Broom
My shoes don’t match
I said to myself
Observing one black and one brown.
One pointy toe
The other a moc
I noticed as I sat down.
(I remembered a time
In Pershing Square
An orator holding his own
“The end is nigh
Beware my friends
Repent before heading Home”)
(Is he right) I wondered
My shoes don’t match
I’d found them a moment ago
I repented not
(They were warm and snug
I left them on my toes.)
My shoes don’t match
I said to myself
Observing one black and one brown.
One pointed toe
The other a moc
Each slipped over
A woolen sock
The time was passing
Tickety tock
A smile replacing a frown;
I have another pair just like these
And they are my very own.
On display for all to see who were able,
”It is eye”
Said the natty, gnat, gnat on the nose of the fly
Who was perched on the nose of an irritable guy; “Take that”.
And the irritable man, he swatted away
At the fly on his nose,
And the gnat (there he goes),
As his world went awry, said “goodbye”.
And the irritable man with the tie in his hand
Completed the Windsor knot.
And tucking at this and that around the collar until satisfied that “handsome is as handsome does”
(He loved this tie a lot),
Except for the spot
Where the fly had landed.
So happy he was that the fly was now gone. (the fly never really knew what hit him on the return approach).
The gnat by the way, was just that, In The Way.
And the hand of the man went SWAT once again
And returned to the view in the glass in the lav
And perfected the knot in his Brooks Brothers tie and said “Dang,
I’m a handsome man.”
On display for all to see who were able,
”It is eye”
Said the natty, gnat, gnat on the nose of the fly
Who was perched on the nose of an irritable guy; “Take that”.
And the irritable man, he swatted away
At the fly on his nose,
And the gnat (there he goes),
As his world went awry, said “goodbye”.
And the irritable man with the tie in his hand
Completed the Windsor knot.
And tucking at this and that around the collar until satisfied that “handsome is as handsome does”
(He loved this tie a lot),
Except for the spot
Where the fly had landed.
So happy he was that the fly was now gone. (the fly never really knew what hit him on the return approach).
The gnat by the way, was just that, In The Way.
And the hand of the man went SWAT once again
And returned to the view in the glass in the lav
And perfected the knot in his Brooks Brothers tie and said “Dang,
I’m a handsome man.”
We often ask “Why”
when we mean something else.
Perhaps we mean “What is the cause?”
When you ask “Why”,
Do you mean “What” or “When?”
Would “Where” or “How” then give you pause?
My first guess is,
That we all want to know
A little bit more of The Self
The Ego that drives
The more curious to drink
From the bottle up high on the shelf
Nose-ious Abner
When given a choice,
Today, will ask “How” every time.
No longer is “Why”
As important as once,
When his quest was by reason, sublime.
Today Abner chooses
To practice the “Hpw”, asking Only
“What shall I do next?”
“Pass it on brother Ab
Simply Do the next thing.
Your life is no longer a hex.”
From “Whence” came the Voice
Heard only to Ab
No longer does Abner ask “Why”
“Who may I help”
Asks the Better Man
“Is there someone near, sicker than I?”
Then suddenly opens
The door to his heart.
And he hears the Answer to “Why”
Here I am Brother Ab
I’ve been here all along
It is I, it is I, it is I,
I was once called Leeward.
Bill K sez “Yer Nutz.”
Kids still call me Papa.
To Leo I’m a Putz.
To grandkids I’m their Grampus.
Mother called me Spike.
Uncle Frankie loved me.
He called me Little Tyke.
To me I am a Poet
By any name at all.
Bruno, Leewi, Bobby Lee,
Life is still a ball.
Posted in Humor, One Act Play, Poetry|Tagged Grampus, Papa, Poet, Putz, Tyke |Leave a comment
Black holes and dark clouds and space dust are universal metaphors for what(?); that part of you that has no room for anything at all but the perfectly straight line that travels from the retina of your only remaining eye, returning when it will from the end of the universe, ignoring, no, completely oblivious to anyone else in you path(?); no, it’s the other way around, isn’t it?
Isn’t it?
It’ll pass, Old Friend.
It’ll pass.
ANY EXCUSE FOR A RHYME.
How many millions are in a trillion?
How many leaves in a forest?
How many souls exist in forever?
How many came before us?
Where is it written?’Where are the answers?
Where is the heavenly Chorus?
When did the Big Bang Beget the beginning?
Is the answer there before us?
What if I told you I knew all along?
What if you held a Thesaurus?
A new interrogative might have an answer
Or perhaps it would simply bore us.
Scarcity begets Popularity.
If you wear a skirt, a shirt or you read the morning paper while sitting in a beautiful chair created as a limited edition of ONE or if you possess a tidbit of knowledge which has not yet entered the realm of COMMON SENSE you may soon be celebrated by those whose clamor for attention fails to bridge the gap between the world of regular stuff and the world of scarcity…
You could soon become a Celebrity…
So much for scarcity…
And exclusivity.
Crumbs 