Monthly Archives: May 2013

Harrison’s Sweet Caroline

Young Love

Happy Birthday to my Sweet Caroline–
The light of everyone’s life, especially mine!
You light up the room wherever you go.
You’re my best friend and soul mate—I love you so!

I’ll always be yours whether you want me or not,
So good thing for me you are equally besot.
It’s no coincidence that of our children you’re the mother—
Of all the beauties in the world, I could conceive of no other!

We’ve shared 40 years of love through trials and tribulation,
And the spiritual bonus of the same religious affiliation!
We saved ourselves a lot of Sunday morning friction
By having the good sense to BOTH be Christian!

You’ve helped me to take life’s insults in stride,
You’ve replaced my fatigue with profusions of pride.
Whenever I’ve felt at the end of my rope,
Your smiling face and good cheer restored my hope.

Everything that you do I love and admire,
The life that you lead and your words inspire.
You’re my Fortune 500 Businesswoman of the Year
That you’re the best and the brightest and the dearest is clear!

Just kids when we married, we raised each other
Navigating the shoals of life, we triumphed together.
My life has been brighter with you at my side
Forever grateful I’ll be to my beautiful bride.

Photo Credit: https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/421362_156567704526150_751708072_n.jpg

Note: I was inspired to write this poem based on the following message that my friend, Harrison, posted on Facebook:

Happy Birthday to my Sweet Caroline. (that’s right, they wrote a song about her) you light up the room of every place you go. And every person who gets to know you. You are ever giving and ever loving. You are the light of my life and you brighten every aspect of my life. I love you so and you deserve every bit of my love. You are a wonderful: Christian, Best Friend, Soul Mate, Helpmeet, Mother of our Beautiful children, Companion, “Grandmother” to beautiful kittens, Business woman. I do love and admire you so. I enjoyed the Birthday dinner and reminiscing about our early years pranks and spats. We’ve been together over 40 years and actually helped raise each other. I attached a picture of our first date.

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The Dangers of Texting

St. Francis 002

The world, as we know, is fraught with peril
(Without it, life would be boring and sterile);
So now kids have smartphones with unlimited texting
To check in with their parents who don’t know they’re sexting.

The teachers keep teaching but the kids stopped learning
Because their vibrating phones in their pants are burning.
They sneak it out of their pockets and onto their lap
Text under the desk with free wi-fi on tap.

The preachers keep preaching but fewer souls count as keepers–
The only souls not texting are the more reverent sleepers.
Our religious leaders now text straight from the podium
So the behavior now merits not a shred of opprobrium!

Did you ever have dinner and converse with a guest
Not knowing he hasn’t put his cellphone to rest?
You keep talking ’til you notice, for whatever it’s worth,
That he’s staring at his crotch with considerable mirth!

Distracted driving is the new safety curse–
Compared with drunk driving, it’s actually worse!
Drunk driving, at least, incurs a harsh legal fight
But texting is moral—it’s our God-given right!

Where one used to be safe, now hazards abound
Seems you’re taking a risk just walking around.
In the past, you’d go skiing to break a bone
Now you dodge texters while walking on home.

So the other day while I was passing the church
What I saw in the churchyard, made me lurch!
A statue of St. Francis stood as still as a stone
Staring hard at his hand which was grappling a phone.

So I waded through brambles to sneak a peek at his screen:
“Don’t make me come down there or I’ll make one hell of a scene!”
I looked up at the sky as a thunderbolt cracked–
St. Francis’s face with obvious guilt was wracked.

I tore myself from the brambles and ran down the street
Checked my Twitter account and sent God this tweet:
With all this texting going on, it’s miraculous that most people are thriving,
I pray that texters stay out of the car and that St. Francis never starts driving.

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The Old Bench (or “Benchus Fugit”)

 

Bench at Wheat & Walker

Right around the corner in my neighborhood
I can only guess the years this old bench has withstood.
An abandoned ancient bus stop of the municipality,
But romantically I see a relic of southern hospitality.

Every time I pass this way
I feel nostalgia for the day
When this bench offered a passerby
The chance to catch their breath and sigh.

A kind invitation to rest awhile
To maybe chat and share a smile
To sit in the shade dappled yellow and green
And feel the morning breeze of a day still pristine.

Whether the bench was a destination
Or a milepost along one’s peregrination
It beckoned to all who strolled on by
To watch cotton clouds on a bright blue sky.

The bench used to sit at the edge of a hill
And all these years later, resides there still.
But the hill became shorter, advancing its girth
Overtook the bench, making it part of the earth.

A cement jewel encrusted in a matrix of vines
Its right arm is broken, its bones rusted tines.
Tendrils of ivy curl over its back
As if to shelter it from time’s relentless attack.

It patiently waits with its arms open wide
Like a faithful friend whose love will abide
That you take for granted will always be there
Until it’s too late–you forgot to care.

Each time I see it, it’s slightly more crumbled
And my hopes that it will last are ever more humbled.
At some point, the City will tear it down
Citing progress and safety and improving the town.

This bench breaks my heart because all time is on loan,
So I just took its picture and wrote up this poem.
There’s no forestalling its inevitable fate.
Just enjoy its sweet charm—do it now, don’t wait.

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The Happy Graduation Rap

Flying Mortarboards

To you I wish a happy graduation
Which is a certifiable indication
That you have paid enough tuition
For your dreams to come to complete fruition.

Your diploma represents the successful culmination
Of countless years of sleepless determination
Punctuated by ennui, fatigue, and exasperation
Fueled by the promise of delayed compensation.

Your diploma attests to the official veracity
Of your heretofore unrewarded perspicacity.

A graduate degree is the necessary apparatus
To jack up the pay scale, thus improving your status.

Your boss now upon you will have to heap praise–
Just be sure to remind her to remember that raise!

Now they’ll have to pay you so much more
For the same old stuff you did before.

Like an expendable commodity you should no longer be treated
Your wise advice now must be deferentially heeded.

Now a Saturday morning will blissfully mean
That from a book no knowledge will you have to glean.

Now you’ll have time to make it up to your spouse
For the years s/he didn’t call you a chore-shirking louse.

Just think of the potential opportunity this poses–
Time to smell all the previously-unsmelled roses.

You can go to the beach, to the mountains, or a random movie,
And break the habit of eschewing all distractions deemed groovy.

So remember this day and enjoy the absence of strife–
Don’t forget to savor the flavor of your excellent life.

Photo Credit: http://assets.kaboose.com/media/00/00/14/6e/b4f3c6c8be84a941bbf4a204938a92c5ced335fe/476×357/600x450_476x357.jpg

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You Know You’re in South Carolina When…

You Know You're in SC When...

You know you’re in South Carolina when
Prodigal son Mark Sanford gets elected again!

He hiked the Appalachian Trail to political redemption
Because Jesus has granted him a moral exemption.

The party that defends the sanctity of marriage
Has imposed upon Justice a convenient miscarriage.

He abandoned our state with impunity–
Who knew that going AWOL grants immunity?

Second chances and salvation were strategic brilliance
And proved to be the foundation of his resilience.

That not much was made of his dereliction of duty
Turned his malfeasance into a thing of beauty.

He won the vacant seat of a Tea Party Activist
Because the electorate wanted a Conservative Lacktavist.

Let us not gnash our teeth nor pull out our hair
Nor throw in the towel in utter despair.

Let us praise democracy and be of good cheer–
Remember the term is for only one year.

The only problem, I really do fear,
Is that now that we’ve got him, he won’t disappear.

Photo Credit: https://talcove.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/you-know-youre-in-sc-when.jpg?w=300

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Why Not Wearing a Bicycle Helmet is Hazardous to Your Health

Funny Bike Helmet

There is no good reason why I don’t wear a bicycle helmet, but here are the bad reasons:

1. I don’t have one (a bike helmet, not a reason);
2. The only time I usually think about wearing one is when I’m on my bike going to some place that doesn’t sell bike helmets;
3. I almost never go to places that sell bike helmets; and
4. When I do go to some place that sells bike helmets, I wait outside until it’s time to go.

Last week, when I was riding down the street, my neighbor yells at me, “Get a bike helmet! You don’t want to get a TBI!” A TBI? “What’s that?” “Traumatic Brain Injury!” Oy gevalt! OK, so now I’m thinking about it, although not much more than I was before.

To put this in perspective, you have to appreciate how I ride my bike: very, very cautiously. I no longer ride with no hands, fly through four-way stops at the bottom of a hill, bounce over curbs, ride in traffic—no, nothing like that. I’m a side streeter, I stay far away from parked cars to avoid getting doored, ride on the sidewalk every chance I get and very gingerly approach driveways. I usually walk my bike while crossing streets and going uphill. Plus, I only fall off my bike about once a year, so no big whoop. But, yes, I do agree that I do need to get a bike helmet.

So two days ago, I’m at my usual Wednesday afternoon anti-war protest with my sign (“I’m Already Against the Next War”), and after it’s over (the protest, not the war), I’m chatting with one of my protest buds, and she asks, “Where are you parked?” “Right there,” I say, proudly pointing at my red, 30-year old French classic racer, a Puch Cavalier. “Where’s your helmet?” she demands. “I don’t have one, but I’m gonna get one,” I say somewhat apologetically.

Before I know what hit me, she clocks me on the head with the heel of her hand just above my right temple. BAM! This was no love tap—the impact was equivalent to what you’d need in order to pop a volley ball five feet up into the air.

I see stars! My eyes feel like they’ve just been used for a Las Vegas crap shoot. Stunned, I query, “What are you doing?!!!” She asks, “Did that feel good?” “No!,” I shout, “And you should say you’re sorry!” She points at the sidewalk and self-righteously seethes, “Well, when THAT hits your head, it’ll feel a lot worse! GET A HELMET!” Although I’m disoriented, this whole thing just seems absurd. My head is still swimming so I can still only think of something lame to say like, “You still need to say you’re sorry!” She smiles sweetly and almost croons, “I’m not going to say I’m sorry because I love you.” With friends like that, who needs enemas?

She left me there while she crossed the street. In my somewhat debilitated mental state, I called her name, she turned around, and because nothing more compelling occured to me, I lamely shouted out two words (hint: not “Merry Christmas”). I don’t remember what her reaction was, but I do remember shouting that particular phrase (hint: not “Merry Christmas”) quite a few times, just in case her hearing was as bad as my momentarily-diminished mental acuity, and of course, for the edification of the motorists who were stopped at the light.

As I rode home on my bike, I wondered if the pain in my head was a little TBI or a big one. I quickly determined that it was a probably a little TBI since I was still riding my bike instead of the asphalt and wondering if there was something good in the fridge. More evidence that it was not a big TBI is that I found myself hoping that we were friends on Facebook so I could unfriend her (hereinafter referred to as “Slugger”).

So, two days later, the good news is:

1. I’m fine and my little TBI has been downgraded to an almost imperceptible sporadic migrating twinge;
2. I have not demanded an apology from anyone nor used that offensive two-word phrase (hint: not “Merry Christmas”); and
3. No one has hit me in the head for two days in a row!

The bad news is:

1. I still don’t have a bike helmet;
2. The only time I usually think about wearing one is still when I’m on my bike going to some place that doesn’t sell bike helmets;
3. I still almost never go to places that sell bike helmets; and
4. When I do go somewhere that sells bike helmets, I still wait outside until it’s time to go.

In conclusion, I concur that not wearing a bike helmet is indeed hazardous to your health, as is evidenced by this story. So, right after I unfriend “Slugger,” I swear I’m gonna buy a bike helmet. All I have to do now is try to remember my Facebook password, but first, I have to find my laptop. Oh, do I have a laptop?

And by the way, should you see my ex-friend “Slugger,” and she asks you if you floss your teeth, just say “yes.” Also, please note that should you hear yourself saying “yeth,” and one or more of your teeth is/are dribbling over your chin, you probably didn’t answer soon enough.

Photo Credit: http://www.camein.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/bold-head-helmet.jpg

 

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Filed under My Very Short Stories

Retired Teacher Rap

crazy_trelawney

A beautiful morning and it’s 8:03
I contemplate the peace with serenity.
Not one cranky student do I see
And not one late bell is haranguing me.

Chillin’ in my recliner called Boy La-Zee
I get online with a sense of glee
’Cuz there’s not one parent threatening me
And I’m living my life in harmony.

I control my time and even my space
There ain’t no kids yelling in my face
Administrators are a thing of the past
You know, hell forever just cannot last.

In the principal’s office I’d have to grovel
Now I feast my eyes on the latest novel
I no longer have a boss doing pop-in observations
Damned with faint praise and incriminations.

I used to grade papers long into the night,
And at weddings and funerals, every trip and every flight.
My life was never mine from August to June
Now I’m free as a bird and I’ve changed my tune.

It’s time to move on and wrap up this song
Cuz there’s a ton of fun thangs going on.
And now that I’m retired, I’ve discovered what’s true:
Not doing what you don’t like is the best thing to do!

Photo Credit: http://www.mindposts.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/crazy_trelawney.jpg

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