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Mark Friedman Poem
AIR TRAVEL
When travelling by air, the first thing that you do,
Is gather all your stuff and pack your bags,
And especially when you travel by plane,
Make sure they are all equipped with luggage tags.
We usually print out our boarding passes,
About 24 hours before,
This way we avoid any extra airport lines,
And getting onto the plane, we’ll be assured.
Confirm that you scheduled a car service,
To get you there an hour before your flight,
You check in your luggage and go through security,
They scan with an x-ray whatever is not in plain sight.
You take off your shoes, and remove from your pockets,
Any objects, sometimes your belt or your watch,
You walk through a scanner, on rare occasions pat you down,
Just make sure they avoid your crotch.
Now you walk with your carry-on bags,
Sometimes a quarter mile to your respective gate,
You check the screen if your flight’s still on time,
Now all you have to do now is wait.
Finally you get on the line to board the plane,
The representative collects your pass,
Hopefully you will not sit next to someone,
Who spills over into your seat because of his big, fat ass.
You find your seat whether it’s assigned or not,
Depending on if you are on Jet Blue or Southwest,
You put your carry-ons in the overhead bins,
It won’t be until you land that you could truly rest.
The flight attendant prepares you for take-off,
She points out the location of the emergency doors,
She tells you to have all your stuff stored above,
Or under the seat in front of you on the floor.
The “Fasten your seat belt” light goes on,
They demonstrate the use of the oxygen mask,
Trying to adjust that overhead air nozzle,
Can really be a challenging task.
You’re told to have your seatback in the upright position,
Have your snack table stowed away is what you hear,
The flight attendant says, “We’re cleared for take-off”,
The next thing you know is you’re up in the air.
You look in the seat pocket in front of you,
There’s a barf bag and a schematic of the plane,
Then you browse through the items in the Sky-mall catalog,
If I bought something from them, you might call me insane.
A lousy bag of peanuts and small cup of soda,
Is about the extent of the food that you will get,
So it’s a good idea to buy something to eat,
Before you are about to board the jet.
Your plane finally lands on the runway,
It’s the start of a much needed vacation,
You hope that when you go to find your bags,
You don’t discover that they arrived at another destination.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
GONE FISHING
A few years ago, I went fishing,
With Larry & Don off the Jones Beach Pier,
We had no clue if the fish were biting,
But at least the day was sunny and clear.
We first stopped at the bait and tackle shop,
To pick up a batch of fresh bait,
So we put some squid on the fishing hooks,
We cast off and then began to wait.
Larry happened to be in the middle,
I was to his left, and Don to his right,
Then Don felt a tug on his line,
Whatever it was, started to put up a little fight.
Don reeled in his line all the way,
He caught something that looked kind of freakish,
It looked like half fish and half bird,
It was a Sea Robin, but at least it was a fish.
A little while later, something attached to my line,
And I felt my fishing rod start to bend,
I also ended up catching an ugly Sea Robin,
Don and I seemed to have started a trend.
The 2 of us were catching Sea Robins,
We were catching them literally left and right,
Oddly they seemed to avoid Larry’s hook,
And I could sense he was getting uptight.
The next thing I know, I had trouble with my reel,
I messed it up and felt like a jerk,
So Larry said to me, “Let’s just switch rods”,
And I will try to get yours to work.”
It wasn’t too long, while using Larry’s rod,
That I got another fish on the line,
This just added insult to injury,
I thought his frustration level would cause him to resign.
But the 3 of us had a good laugh,
We continued casting our lines in the bay,
I was hoping that Larry’s luck would turn around,
But he didn’t catch a single fish that day.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
THE PARADOX OF PROGRESS
Communication has been around since the dawn of man,
It’s evolved from smoke signals and the beating of drums,
Hieroglyphics gave rise to alphabets and the written word,
Along came the inventions of the telephone, fax and intercom.
We had Morse code, the pony express and radio,
Which eventually gave rise to TV,
Homing pigeons used to carry messages,
And truckers would converse on their CB’s.
The world has gotten smaller and more connected since,
The phone was invented by Alexander Graham Bell,
But he never dreamed that one day,
You’d be able to access the internet and send a text on your cell.
Recently, I observed 5 people at a table, having lunch,
So it was quite obvious that they were not alone,
Yet those same 5 people were oblivious to each other,
Because all of them were using their cell phones.
With the continuous advancement of communication,
The population feels the need to always be in touch,
But when it interferes with face to face conversation,
When does texting, facebook and email become way too much?
These days, people bring their tablets and I-phones,
And other mobile devices wherever they go,
With the touch of a screen or the push of a button,
We’ve become addicted to sharing all sorts of info.
Quite often when someone is in the company of other people,
And their device prompts them for something to be viewed,
Their attention is diverted, and they ignore the people they’re with,
And most people would agree this is quite rude.
With the advent of social media technology,
Mobile devices have caught on like wildfire,
But at the same time, it seems that,
People’s social skills are lacking, and something to be desired.
Technology is certainly a marvelous thing,
And it is definitely here to stay.
But while we are in the company of others around us,
Let’s all be courteous and put our devices away.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
AN APPETITE FOR SOCKS
We load up our washing machine,
With clothes that practically, weigh a ton,
But why is it when we put in a pair of socks,
And then open the dryer door, we only find one?
Our washer and dryer is like the Bermuda Triangle,
We always deposit our socks by the pair,
You would normally expect, what goes in must come out,
But one of those socks manages to disappear.
This is one of the mysteries of the universe,
It doesn’t matter whether the socks are cotton or wool,
Maybe, just maybe, those socks turn into lint,
And that’s why those lint traps are always full.
Somewhere, there are close to a dozen socks,
That either my washing machine or dryer ate,
As a result, we have a bag of mismatched socks,
That are quite lonely, because they’re missing their mate.
Well, I guess it’s off to the department store,
Some more socks I will have to buy,
I know my appliances have an appetite for socks,
But what I really would like to know, is why?
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
MY MODEL PLANE
Way back, when I was 12 years old,
I built a model airplane with my Dad,
It was a great experience, but most of all,
We spent some time together, and for that I was glad.
The plane was built from balsa wood and paper,
With a rubber band running from propeller to tail,
It was a labor of love for about 2 weeks,
When we finished it, it was time to exhale.
It was displayed in my room on top of my dresser,
This was not just considered a toy,
But this was a project that I was proud of,
And I considered it as my pride and joy.
Well, about 2 weeks later, it was moving day,
From our 2nd floor apartment on E. 8th St.
We drove about 5 miles in our ’49 Plymouth,
To our 12th floor apartment on W. 5th St.
The only way I could protect the plane was,
To put it on the rear shelf of the car,
I guarded my model, made sure it didn’t move,
Even though the trip wasn’t really that far.
Well , I got my plane home in one piece,
And displayed it in my brand new room,
But I was told by my Mom & Dad to continue working,
So, unpacking my stuff I resumed.
One day I had a bright idea,
I wanted to see if my plane would fly,
So I turned the propeller, the rubber band twisted tight,
And what happened next made me want to cry.
I turned the propeller 1 last time,
And the plane then snapped in 2,
Then I thought to myself, Oh my God,
What the hell did I just do?
I never saw my Dad laugh so hard,
And there is just 1 thing left to say,
A promising career as an aircraft engineer,
Came to an abrupt halt that day.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
AN UNUSUAL FRIEND
I was walking home from school one day,
And passed by an empty lot,
It was during the month of June,
And the day was pretty hot.
I looked to my right on the ground,
And I saw something unusual that was green,
It was a pretty amazing sight to behold,
Because it’s something I have never seen.
A praying mantis was sitting still,
On a couple of blades of grass,
I was thinking to myself, “If I only had a jar”,
As I was walking home from class.
So I put the insect in my bag in one hand,
And carried my books in the other,
I couldn’t wait to bring it home,
To show it to my mother.
The first thing my mother said was,
“I don’t want it in the house”,
She seemed like she was frightened of it,
Like she just had seen a mouse.
I asked my mom for a jar,
And I put in some twigs, leaves and dirt.
Then I carefully put the mantis in,
Making sure that it wouldn’t get hurt.
I punched some holes in the lid,
Because I wanted to give him some air,
And when I took a good look at him,
It appeared that this bug was in prayer.
My mom suggested we give it some water,
And see what it would do,
So to our utter amazement, from the spoon,
It took not only one sip, but two.
Then we gave him a piece of bologna,
And to our pleasant surprise,
He started to eat tiny bits,
We couldn’t believe our eyes.
I grew kind of fond of the little fella,
But I just knew it wouldn’t be long,
Until my dad came home from work,
And would say I can’t keep him, It’s just wrong.
He said it’s not right to keep it in captivity,
And I should release it into the wild,
I couldn’t help thinking that the mantis
Would wonder why he’s being exiled.
So I opened up the window and
Let him out of the mayonnaise jar,
He spread his wings and flew away,
And I began to wonder how far.
I didn’t think I would ever see him again,
So obviously this made me upset,
And by writing about this 50 years later,
Proves it was an experience I’d never forget.
But the next day I looked out,
The very window which he was released,
I thought that maybe he liked the bologna, so much,
That he came back for another piece.
So I opened up the window,
Thinking that he might come in,
But I must have scared him off,
And that was the last time I ever saw him.
My interest in entomology stayed with me,
For a few more years to come,
But when I look back in time, I’m glad,
That I granted my little friend his freedom.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
A SMILE
A smile is an expression of happiness,
It is literally the opposite of a frown,
With one, your lips go up,
And the other, your lips drop down.
But it is much more than physiology,
It displays favourable emotions too,
And a smile seems to be contagious,
Chances are if I smile, so will you.
When you say someone is photogenic,
Their face usually has a smile,
If you take a picture of someone with a frown,
Framing that photo, certainly won’t be worthwhile.
When you hear something that is really funny,
That smile will transform into a laugh,
Now that’s going to be a Kodak Moment,
Time to get out the camera, and take a photograph.
There are so many things that can make you smile,
It could be watching small children play in a park,
Or it could be much more of a personal thing,
Like 2 lovers, making out in the dark.
A smile is a universal language,
It is understood by everyone,
It’s a silent form of communication,
Recognized by every culture under the sun.
There are always nations at each other’s throats,
The world has been in conflict all the while,
Maybe what this planet of ours needs,
Is for more of its people to smile.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
THE LIFE OF A PENNY
The other day, I was going through some change,
And I dropped a coin on the floor,
When I picked it up, I noticed that,
It was a penny minted in 1934.
Just think of the history this coin has been through,
Since the 80 years it’s been in circulation,
It’s been through Pearl Harbor and Viet Nam,
911 and some famous assassinations.
The way this penny ended up in my pocket,
Was just by chance, by fate and by luck.
I made a small purchase at a store,
And it was just part of the change from a buck.
Over the years, how many hands,
Has this penny had the chance to pass through?
Thousands of transactions have happened,
Before it gets to me or gets to you.
This penny may have been with you,
While you visited a museum or a zoo,
Before that, it could have been in the pocket,
Of a famous actor, or notorious criminal too.
It could have visited all 50 states,
Since 1934, at one time or another,
Wouldn’t it be funny if it found its way,
Into the purse of your great-grandmother?
I’m sure that several times, it has joined,
49 other pennies wrapped up in a roll,
If only this penny could speak,
Imagine the stories that would be told.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
THE INTERVIEW AND THE TROOPER
I was on my way to apply for a job,
My interview was for 2PM that day,
I wasn’t dressed for the occasion yet,
So I pulled onto the shoulder of the parkway.
My suit was in the rear seat,
So I had to move back there to change,
This way I could look professional,
For the meeting we had arranged.
So I moved the passenger seat forward,
In order to gain more leg room.
I felt a little uneasy doing this,
Since I usually get dressed in my bedroom.
I barely slipped into my pants,
But they were still down by the floor,
When all of a sudden, there was a knock, knock, knock,
On the window of the door.
It was a New York State trooper,
Who seemed to come out of nowhere,
He asked me to roll down my window,
But I was still just in my underwear.
I could not lower the power window,
Because the car was not on,
I was hoping that the officer,
Would not have to use his baton.
So I opened up the door,
He saw me sitting in my shorts,
I was having several thoughts,
Of making an appearance in the courts.
I gave an explanation to the trooper,
Why I was changing in the car,
But I’m sure he thought this incident,
Was still a little bizarre.
He let me finish getting dressed,
While he explained his point of view,
So he let me go without a summons,
And I arrived on time for my interview.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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Mark Friedman Poem
THE NEST
It was during the summer of 2014,
We were about to get into the car,
When my wife and I looked across the lawn,
And saw something that was quite bizarre.
There was something that was hanging,
From a low branch on our tree,
It was the biggest, darn wasp’s nest,
That we ever did see.
The nest was really pretty active,
Wasps flew in and out of a little hole,
I wanted to get a closer look as my thoughts,
Consisted of just 2 words – Pest Control.
So I made a trip to Home Depot,
And bought 3 cans of wasp and hornet spray,
The instructions said use when the sun goes down,
So that’s what I did at the end of the day.
So I stood about 20 feet away,
From where the giant wasp nest hung,
The cans wouldn’t spray that far, so I moved closer,
Praying that I wouldn’t get stung.
I aimed for that little hole in the nest,
And I emptied the 3 cans of spray,
It seemed like all it did was made the wasps angry,
So I thought it was a good idea to back away.
I decided not to call an exterminator,
And waited until it started to get cold,
By the time November rolled around,
The nest was about 3 months old.
By that time I saw no activity,
And wanted to remove the nest from the tree,
My wife said she would give me a hand,
Which surprised the hell out of me.
So she held up a black garbage bag,
As I cut the nest from the tree,
The nest fell gently into the bag,
As a result that branch looked kind of empty.
The nest was twice the size of a basketball,
It was on a branch only 6 feet off the ground,
When it came down, it was surprisingly light,
It couldn’t have weighed much more than a pound.
My wife had a great idea, and she asked
If our local Library would like the nest.
Well, the staff really appreciated the donation,
And a debt of gratitude was expressed.
So after a few months being attached to my tree,
Where the nest occupied some space,
It’s now at the Middle Country Library for all to see,
On display inside of a glass case.
Copyright © Mark Friedman | Year Posted 2015
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