Oh Susanna (take two)

I've been out of Dodge for the past eight days, leaving just a few poems to pop up from time to time.  I'm glad to be back.  Here's my explanation:

I come from Minnesota

With my baby on my knee

I'm going to Arizona,

My grandma for to see

It snowed all night

The day I left

The weather it was dry

The clouds so thick,

I saw so clear

Susanna, don't you cry

Oh, Susanna,

Oh don't you cry for me

For I come from Minnesota

With my baby on my knee

The Baby Smells

When changing the butt of my baby
I noticed an odor so foul.
In spite of myself, my belly did hurt
And distress ruled the roost in my bowel.
Good gracious, what has he been eating?
Old cabbages stuffed in a fish?
We'd better give him some pleasanter things
Like pot pourri out of a dish.

Thai-ku

What makes a hard man
Humble?  One night in Bangkok.
Quick humility.

Man's Best Friend?

I had a dog named Fido
He wasn't very nice.
Maybe 'cuz of flatulence
Or maybe 'cuz of lice.
Every day he'd growl,
Menacing and low.
Then he'd scratch his flea-bit ears
And pass some wind below.

Gravel (A poem that is brutally lousy... on purpose.)

What is gravel
But some rock bits
Tossed about like...
Uh... bits of rock?

What is beach sand
But some teeny
Weeny Little
Tiny, uh... rock?

Renaming

What would a waist curtain be?
But a skirt that goes down past your knee!
And a sweater that hangs on your wrist?
Is a mitten that warms up your fist!
A head sock, it is quite clear to most,
Is worn to make craniums toast.
And windows that sit on your nose?
With blinds that restrict where light goes?
And protection from UV ray blows?
Are sunglasses, as everyone knows!

Scandinavian Limerick

There once was a poem from Sweden
Which had all the rhymes it was needin'.
Except at the end
For when it did wend
To the end it had nothing to rhyme with.

The Morning

Fog in the morning

Covering the gravestones

Frosting up the pine trees

Bringing down the sky.

Wind, somewhat later

Mixing with the sunshine

Burning off the low clouds;

Blowing them away.

The Temptation to Choose

Pleasure or certainty, darkness or light,

Apples or oranges, safety or fright,

These are the things that will tempt us at night.

Caring for others and wanting the right,

Shrinking from others, the lonely one's plight,

Tempting to stand fast and tempting to flight.

Make some decisions; they're all black and white.

Grasp indecision; the choices are blight.

Choose to set free?  Or choose to indict?  

"Life is but choices," the thinking one might

Start to conclude, in his thoughts, erudite,

But that would be hopelessly, foolishly trite.

Temptation would have us believe that we choose,

Sifting our options to win or to lose,

Autonomous selves lost in Kantian muse. 

What self-absorbed twaddle!  What bile! What hell!

Hopeless Pavlovians, slaves to the bell. 

Bound to decide, and choose poorly as well.

"Who will rescue me from this body of death?"

Crush

Crush some garlic; crush a bug
Crush the tyrant; he's a thug.
Crush the grapes to make some wine
"Crush", a soda that's just fine.
Crush, the shallow love of youth.
Crush, a job assigned your tooth.
Crush a beetle, though it stinks;
Crush a cockroach if it winks;
Crush the bugs that eat the crop;
Crush a union; make it pop!

What Do You Get When You Go There?

I went to the store to get some milk,
But instead I got a cow.
I went to the Left to get some peace,
But instead I got a row.
I went down south for to get some heat,
But I ended up with stroke.
I went to the bank to get some cash
Then I ended up quite broke.
I half expect if I go to church
That I'll end up all abased.
I'd rather go to receive my Lord
And to get well and truly graced.

Seeming Non Sequiturs (Rhymeless and Proud)

There's carpet under my feet.

Not quite shag, but plenty comfy

And less orange.

There's a ladybug flying about

Off in the other room.

Seems to like the light.

And that's what passes

For my self-reflection these days.

Thank God.

Streaking

John, from A View from Behind the Curtain, writes a poem about streaks today.  Naughty man that I am, I couldn't help but think of "streaking."  Here is my offering on the matter.

The suddenly nude man

Galloped across the turf

Like a wee, tiny horse.

That poets wrote poems

Besmirching his manhood

Goes without saying, of course.

Stand Back. I'm Going to Try Science!

He looks out the window and what does he see?
Five thousand molecules begging to be
Free from electrons or protons or... what?
Science confuses and makes ill his gut.
Better to live in impeccable dark
Than talk about science and jump some dumb shark quark.

Be Nice to Stray Monkeys

When monkeys are romping
All over your rooftop
It's better to ponder
Than flip out and yell.
I know this for certain
Cause one of my buddies
Just busted a gasket
Then a poor monkey fell.