Saturday, December 31, 2011

The Seventh Day of Christmas

To write a poem about swans is an impossible task for me
For Yeats has proffered his work.  To call it good would be a travesty.

Friday, December 30, 2011

The Sixth Day of Christmas (The Generosity of Geese)

On every golf course that I've ever seen
Six geese a-laying, and many more,
Have deposited gifts both brown and green.
Generosities laid down by the score.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Fifth Day of Christmas (Every kiss begins with blech)

The feeling of jewelry on my skin
Evokes skeletons in dank prison
With manacles on wrists, holding them in,
An uncomfortable feeling, a frisson
That turns sideways into a knot
And makes me not want what I've not got.
One ring only, the promise from my wife;
Not one band more for the rest of my life.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

The Fourth Day of Christmas (4 Name Calling Birds)

#1-"Robins are worm-eaters, simple as that."
#2-"You corpulent goose!  At least I'm not fat!"
#3-"Stop it you warblers, enough with the snit."
#1&2-"Can it yourself, you old white-bellied tit!"

#0-"Why do you name call with such hateful glee?"

#1,2,3&4-"Why don't YOU stuff it?  You dumb chickadee!"

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The Third Day of Christmas (Tough Economic Times)

Poultry in France isn't nearly so bad
As beef cattle living in Deutschland.
Hens lay their eggs and they sell them for cash
But these days the beef's all been canned.

Monday, December 26, 2011

The Second Day of Christmas

When God created things
Some animals turned out strange.
Turtles?  Normal.  Doves?  Just fine.
But turtle doves are deranged.
Is it that they fly slowly?
Or, in their shells, coo softly?
Who knows?  Not I!
But turtles don't fly.

Saturday, December 24, 2011


On Christmas Eve,
"The Day Before,"
We gather in
To sing your praise.
Our carols old
And well-adored
We sing to you,
Our voices raised.

Friday, December 23, 2011

I'm Dreaming of a Brown Christmas

At all points of my yard
The earth is brown and hard.
The snow is somewhere north,
But here it's not come forth.
It soon is Christmas day
Perhaps I'd better pray?


Actually, it would be a good idea.  We've had very little moisture in the past six months.  Aesthetics aside, we need the precipitation.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Fruitcake (A Husband's Bad Idea)

Fruitcake for Christmas
Yum, yum, yum!
Gonna have to get her some.
Get me a chainsaw
Or Ginsu knife.
Cut a divine dessert
For my wife.

Ho, Ho, Ho!
She will just glow!
Ho, Ho, Ho!
She will just glow!

Fruitcake for Christmas
Scarf, scarf, scarf.
Hope my dear angel
Will not barf.

(Is it my imagination or is this particularly awful?  Don't say anything; I already know.)

Wednesday, December 21, 2011


A scone without tea is a shame.
Fall without football is lame.
So when Christmas comes 'round
With no snow on the ground???
It's okay because Jesus still came.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Just a Pondering

As a boy I wanted to travel time:
Live in medieval monasteries,
See the Sahara before it grew huge,
Catch a glimpse of what was there before.

I was skeptical that today was best.
It wasn't really cynicism, but
Some sense that the world was much bigger
And that I only knew the half of it.

Only half!  Ha.  But I wanted to know.
I still labor under the dual thoughts
That I know a great deal and not much.
Not sure that I'm wiser.  But still curious.

Sunday, December 18, 2011


Green Bay lost.
Alas.  Alack.
I deeply weep
For the one loss Pack.
I'm hearing lots
Of snidely flack
From nasty folk
I'd like to whack.
Well, not really.
I take that back.

Saturday, December 17, 2011


Cracking twelve eggs,
Beating them all together,
Unity by force.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Mr. Entitlement

There once was a van on the road
Which due to the traffic was slowed.
The driver cried out
And started to pout
As if, being special, he was owed.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

War In the Air

Old Glory pulled taut
Iowan winds are whipping
It's war on the plains.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

The Secret Lives of Cows (a plot)

The night was foggy, dark and cool,
With folks ensconced behind their walls.
The cows, meanwhile, as cows are wont,
Were sending signals with moo-calls.
"At half past three in deepest night,
When all is still we'll leave our stalls
And gather out there in the fields
Aside the pool, above the falls."

And so they did, those sneaky beasts,
They skulked and crawled and lurked and crept.
They gathered there beneath the fog
And planned rebellion while we slept.
They planned to take our homes and kids;
They planned to take our big TVs;
They planned to order magazines
And cruelly leave us with the fees.
There never was in all of time
A plot so dastardly and low.
Thank God that there, amidst the gloom,
Was spying the most noble crow.

This stately bird, he took to wing
And raised a warning on the wind.
"Ca-CAW!" he called with all his force
"Beware the cow and all beefkind."

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

The Wolves of Ellis

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses,
Yearning to breathe free.

I will put these fine folks
In dark morasses,
In captivity.

Here, let me help you.
Your kids need free passes,
Some compassion, see?

     A Land of the Free
     With victim peddlers
     And grievance mongers
     Salivating openly.
     Oh the woe of it all.

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Secret Lives of Trees

Pure unremitting boredom.
That is my life, I'm afraid.
I stand here, unmoving, dumb.
Only sound I ever made
Was a bit of rustling once.
Made me feel like a dunce.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

The Battle of Winter (a sonnet of sorts)

In the battle of snow and sun
The latter always seems to win.
Little flakes their courses run,
Wreak havoc, making Jack Frost grin.
Like Russian soldiers of old days,
Merely fodder for the cause,
Falling there on paths and ways,
Eliciting hushed oohs and aaaaahs.
The sun will catch with deadly ray
And end the mischief of that day;
The flakes will surely melt away.
But one more time Jack Frost will laugh
At this, the sun's presumptuous gaffe.
For he has "ice" who works on staff.

Friday, December 9, 2011


Diamonds are sparkly
And rainfall is wet.
Chocolate is tempting
And easy to get.
Icicles hang
Till they tumble and fall.
Babies don't run
Till they first learn to crawl.
Sardines are fishy
And crammed in a tin.
Offing your neighbor
Is surely a sin.
Life is sure easy,
I'm sure you'll agree.
Simple as Latin
And trigonometry.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

On the Nature of Poetry

A popular poem
Is better than milk.
It's better than butter
Or things of that ilk.
It's better than cheese,
Either cheddar or mozz.
"What's with the dairy?"
"I like it a lots."

A popular poem
Cheers all the masses
It tastes kind of sweet,
"Like icky molasses?"

A popular poem
Is real hard to find.
It hides up in fruit trees
All covered in rind.
"So, then it's a fruit?
Like an orange or lime?"
"Oh goodness, just stop.
You're wasting my time."

A popular poem
Is often unsung,
Even regarded
As something like dung.
Til, lo and behold,
The verse strikes a chord
And then that dear poem's
No longer abhorred.
"So what are you saying
With all of these words?"
"That hopefully something
Will come of these turds."

A Thought on Prepositions

A preposition means nothing by itself,
Though it might possibly hint.
A mysterious word that tells nothing.
But there's a relational tint.
Or maybe not at all:
The hermit wore a splint.

Words can mean very little,
But only because they can mean so much.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The Secret to Marital Bliss

Big toe goes wonky.
Doggone!  Another bunion.
At least wife has work.

The Moral Battle of the Early Morning

Pine trees try to keep sunshine out,
Corrupt old denizens that they are
Of the cemetery o'er yonder.
They think bones are better buried.

The sunshine is less interested
In playing this game of the ages.
Every surface is of interest.
"Stand aside and I shall reveal."

Monday, December 5, 2011

What's In a Name?

Ol' Augustine of Hippo,
He wasn't really large.
Joan of Ark liked horses, sure,
But not stuck on a barge.
And Rick the Lionhearted,
Not even once in jest,
Asked to have a kitty's ticker
Stuck into his chest.
Names are oft misnomers,
Clues that lead astray.
Just inquire of that old mage
Cause Gandalf wasn't grey.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

The Talkative Ninja

My baby's dressed in ninja black,
But stealthy he is not.
He's always talking, forth and back,
A right loquacious tot.

Saturday, December 3, 2011


I'm waiting for a good Advent movie.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Gimme Just a Sec...

When walking in mid-Tennessee
A doppelganger of me
Walked up and said, "Hi!
Am I you or you I?"
I said, "Well, I'd have to agree."

Thursday, December 1, 2011

The Secret Lives of Cats

A cat, all alone,
When he knows none are watching,
Will talk on the phone.