A FRIEND OF MINE
A friend of mine is a cloistered friend so how did this come to be?
Perhaps it’s because of the love in her heart for…
the fruit of her money tree.
(Perhaps Friend’s dad was the key.)
Her papa did drink from dawn to dusk from the time she was a girl.
He spent all his time aguzzlin’ gin as he…
gave the worl’ a whorl.
(So what does this mean to me?)
I was a Papa, indeed I was and a Great-great, now that I am.
And all of my children are beautiful now…
that I finally give a damn.
(So why do I feel so free?)
I could have been her Papa were it not for a friend of a friend
Who shared about turning it over and…
How to make healing amends.
(So what does this mean to thee?)
That’s it, Dear Friend…
My name is Lee…A very grateful Recoveree…
a Recovering Orphan of the Big Hazee
(a grateful recovering alcoholic.)
Love is outbound with no expectation of return.
Although Love is circular and is always shared.
Love is the key to the Memory of All.
Love is Fulfillment.
Love is Creation.
Love is Art.
And Art is all there is.
So there you have it…
Love is knowing that there is Nothing left to Know.
Dancing octuplets joined at the hip
Hither and yon they must go
Carefully, carefully one might add
As they sidle as one through the door.
Joined at the hip might not be so bad
It’s their suitors for whom one must feel
Imagine how daunting the octo-fad
As clothing begins to peel.
Elephants rarely go hippety hop;
Most certainly, rarely do I.
But what is that peeking from yonder cloud?
What is that up in the sky?
And over there, some tiger teeth
There must be fifty or more
And wrapped around them a great big grin
Like a Cheshire. Size XL or more
And who is that creature approaching me now?
A hippo? I think not.
Or an elephant? no,
Of that I am sure
It’s hippety, hipping and hop.
So that is the end, for now at least
Of this dream in a foreign land
Bring me a drum and a big bassoon
I shall leave with a marching band.
(Won’t you join me? Take my hand.)
“You’re a wimp” said he
With Fire on his breath
His words were crisp
Like the crackle of death
And my friend whose message
Of Ooh La La
Became instead one of Oom Pa Pa
and said “Yes”,
To the voice of his Alter.
Not once did he dare to falter.
Identified then as an arrogant prick
He wasn’t really (Perhaps he is sick)
Of what (Who knows) could it be that he
Forgot who he was and thought he was me
(As usual in search of another Rhyme
I seem to have run out of time.)
By Lee Broom
AN ODE TO THE ODIOUS MAXIMUS
What constitutes insanity?
Who gets to make the rules?
Where’s the Palooka who started it all;
I will show you a fool.
Not the Palooka; no-no-no.
Palooka no pulla da punch.
Palooka was merely a Lab Rat
We were Palooka’s lunch.
HI, HOW ARE YA?
When I turn to God and say “Hello” and He answers “Hi, How are ya?”
I look a little closer; Who will he be tomorrow?
Today he may be Clara, tomorrow perhaps Claude
The next day may be Manny; yesterday was Maude.
I really don’t know What or Who or even When or If God Is.
What I do know is that when I call on God I find Love.
When I Accept that Love I find Knowledge.
When I apply that Knowledge I find Friendship.
When I share that Friendship I discover more Love.