Best Bifocal Poems
Age gracefully…that’s what I’ll do
Going to ignore the lines, how about you?
Inner beauty is what really counts
I happen to love my drooping mounts
Absolutely no Botox or fillers for me
Another varicose vein, Yipee
I’ll learn to love myself, no matter what
I will forever have my untucked gut
Graceful and elegant, that’s what I am
I will tell those cosmetic companies to scram
Lip plumping or lipo…no darn way!
And as for my hair…I will let it go gray
Facelifts are for the weak, you know
I happen to adore the feet of the crow
I’ll snub my reflection, chuckling a little at me…
For shunning pricey moisturizers provides me with glee
I don’t need any convertible or flashy car
My beauty shines really brightly, from afar
Who cares about the rolls, seeming to multiply each day?
No staples for me, I don’t care what I weigh
Dark circles make my eyes look cute
And those saddlebags are really a hoot
Juvederm and Radiance ….what a waste
On this mug, parentheses DO have a place
Lasik-I sincerely think not
That bifocal look is certainly hot
A new boytoy-There will be none of that
Though I’m sure he’d dig my charming back fat
The bell, oh no, I don’t mean to be crass
I guess I dozed off in Algebra Class
I must have been close to 40 in that frightful dream
And I was just about to let off a really loud scream
Nevertheless, my dear friends, I do so solemnly vow
To go off and age gracefully…at least for now
That's right...no need for the third degree
I promise to not get my first brow lift…until I’m at least 23
Lenny was 30 and still living with his old cheese, everyone called, Lenny’s mum.
She was always on his Cadbury Snack to go find a trouble and strife for a chum.
“Geez, leave off mum, I’ve been looking down at the Punchbowl rubbity Dub”.
“Well Lenny, go to the grab a granny at the Rissole, Fridý night will ya luv”.
Friday came, Lenny put on his best bag of fruit and fired up his old VS Dunny Door.
With his pay in his sky rocket as he hit the frog and toad with the peddle to the floor.
Mum put some of dad’s old brill cream in his Fred Astaire before he left the house.
“Be good Lenny, me little china plate, if ya need a lift home give me a Wally Grout”.
Jenny was on the rock ‘n’ roll so she saved up her oxford scholars for a big night out.
She wasn’t flash to look at, with her bifocal monkey’s arses but she had a good jam tart.
She walked into the Rissole, tilting her leg as she let rip a decent Royce Hart.
Her dad would’ve said, “A bit more choke and it would’ve made you start”.
Jenny met Lenny at the near ‘n far, knowing he was giving her the old Captain Cook.
Introductions made and Lenny thought she was a bit of alright, as he had a second look.
They hit it off after Jenny’s Third vodka and Lenny’s fifth schooner of pigs ear.
Feasting on bar snacks of party dogs eyes, Jenny dripping the dead horse in Lenny’s beer.
A couple of young blokes walk up to Jenny and tried to give her Reg Grundies a flick.
Jenny started throwing cut lunches, smashing him on the Lionel Rose, then gave him a kick.
Lenny intervened, saying, “We don’t want any froth and bubble.” Before thing got nasty.
He took Jenny outside screaming, “He’s got a face like a half eaten pasty”.
And that’s how Lenny and Jenny met, Lenny’s mum was happy seeing Lenny with stars in his mud pies.
They got cash ‘n carried, had a couple of billy lids, that loved to eat burgers and fries.
It’s not at all romantic, but that’s how most Aussie love stories go.
Lenny and Jenny together forever, They’re mates most of us will know.
Just like you to make a last minute date,
leaving me a quickly scribbled note,
before tossing aside that broken campaign pencil from last year's election--
I remember you snapping it apart
when you found out your man lost.
I laughed at you peering through your old bifocal glasses,
frame twisted awkwardly,
making you look somewhat frog-eyed.
"Let's see that production you mentioned.
Meet you at 7:30, the Lyric; dinner afterward."
I did an "Oh, goodie!" and left for work.
You never arrived; cell phone going straight to voicemail.
I stared at the playbill, September 8, 2001,
gave up and drove home, worried . . .
The police found me here,
telling me the details in their flat, official way;
three days later, your funeral . . .
a whole world grieves with me
for today American changed,
today, everything changed . . .
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, October 3, 2014
There they sit, those mocking reminders, on my nightstand table.
I wish I could just throw them out, but I find that I am unable.
There they sit, reminding me, of the life that we once shared,
Before the tragic, life-changing attack, on towers no longer there.
The playbill dated, September 8, in the year 2001;
The last time we went on a date and enjoyed a life of fun.
Three days before he started work in the Trade Center Towers;
If only I had known that day, my life would change in hours.
The cell phone with his last voice mail, which I will never erase;
His calming message, I can replay, next to a picture of his face.
I wasn’t there to answer it when he said his last “good-bye”
It still sits beside my bed always there to make me cry.
A pair of his bifocal glasses that he used to read at night,
Completes the set of memories when my life was still alright.
I know it’s been almost 15 years, and people say I should let go
But I don’t want to forget this man, who I used to love to know.
There they sit, those mocking reminders, on my nightstand table.
I wish I could just throw them out, but I find that I am unable.
YACKETY-YACK
This broken pencil was just a nub – no longer usable.
I wanted to jot down the amount of this playbill dated September 08, 2001.
However, I decided to save the amount in my contacts of my cell phone.
These bifocal glasses are working to well.
I am observing a pigeon dropper slight of hands.
I am now walking down the street of angst.
Somebody had deliberately ticked me off.
Muscle spasms occurred.
I call my husband for him to come pick me up.
Disgusted by my lack of control, I begin to analyze my reasons.
Via conclusion, I derived that I am not going to be cheated out of a good life.
__________________________________________|
PENNED SEPTEMBER 30, 2014!
Where juicy historic purpose fades
and pre-historic
nonverbal
nonviolent sacred meaning
polyculturally creolizes
WholeOpen systemic shade
preserving future health intention
Is where we also find emergence,
consciousness of LeftHemisphere dominance
over RightHemisphere shrouded prominence
of co-relational health/wealth feelings,
Either Positive
Or Negative
and InBetween Non(Negative)
bilateral both/and
Enthymematic co-passion cooperation
antithetically contrasted with violent anti-communication,
like NonZero potential toward quantitative fulfillment
up against Zero Sum closed static emptiness
of anthro-supremacist
PatriarchalCapitalist
monoculturalism against EcoFeminist
polycultural regenerativity,
health positive proclivity
Win/Win bicameral 4Dimensional
prime fractal moments conventional
in lightspeed revolving
ubiquitous ergodic octave spirals
of space/time dynamic reconnecting
re-ligioning health in all
Ego/eco-systemic
integral consciousness
benignly co-spandemic
Inside
personal qualitative health memories
of integrity's vast resonance
with outside
environmental quantitative wealth
of sunshine muse synergetic
fractal cooperative resilience
passionately energetic
Where colonizing historic purpose fades
from pre-historic
nonverbal creolization,
nonviolent sacred meanings
before dualistic desecrated voice
reconsecrated embodied choice
To this day
polyculturally re-creolizing
within WholeOpen Systemic
ego/eco panentheistic
wealthy sacred purpose
LeftHemisphere expansive liberation
and healthy organic meaning
RightHemisphere deep-felt conservation
co-invention
Bicamerally empowering
and enlightening
bifocal fractal
re/pre/anti/un-conscious
creolizing re-ligious colonization,
mystery's historic re-connecting penetration.
I wish I had bionic eyes
Or binoculars so I could espy
My blond in the shower
Viewing her passionate flower
With long arms I'd gladly dry
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-2.php
The New York skyline glimmered in the sun
Saw September 8th 2001
was printed on the playbill in her hand
Happily she sought her name written there
At long last she had achieved top billing
Singing an aria she twirled around
Her costume spread in a circular swish
Then picking up a broken pencil stub
She marked a misspelling in the address
Cell phone buzzed, reverberating loudly
Spurring Joanna out of her bubble
It was the director of the opera
Heard, "Hi Jo, reviews predict a long run!"
Donning her new bifocal sunglasses
She appraised her mirrored "star" reflection
Imagining a brilliant future.
Contest: Chopped Updated
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
The Founding Grandfather
By Elton Camp
Ask “What did Benjamin Franklin do?”
Find that most can recall only one or two.
“Poor Richard’s Almanac he did write,”
Or else, “He’s that guy who flew the kite.”
The facts of history are growing dim
If that’s all that’s remembered of him.
In the colonies, since books were so rare.
To organize the first library he did care.
Because fires were not easy to control,
The first city fire department did mold.
A fire might a family’s finances wipe out,
So he brought the first fire insurance about.
Fireplaces in homes allowed people to freeze.
“There must be a better way to heat than these.”
To that end, he successfully strove
And developed the Franklin stove.
Because his stove was for the public good,
He refused to take out a patent as he could.
When to age people had to concede,
His bifocal glasses met their need.
Declaration of Independence he helped compose
It was by a group of five and he was one of those.
Most of it came from Thomas Jefferson’s mind,
But Benjamin Franklin helped the words to refine.
Minister he was made to France.
The colonies cause to advance.
The king said, “I think Ben’s so funny
That I’ll gladly lend the needed money.
But it would be incomplete to fail to say
That the elderly statesman had feet of clay.
He was only a young man
When his misconduct began.
“This boy is my own son, no doubt,
But his mother I know little about.”
In his autobiography is advice
That certainly isn’t all that nice.
He told men what was the trick
When a mistress they did pick.
“Great Whoremaster” was his name
Even to those who admired his fame.
Of the Founders he was the oldest,
Though also one of the very boldest.
So Benjamin Franklin it wouldn’t bother
To call him the “Founding Grandfather.”
Wealth,
in a competing anthropogentric,
aging egocentric,
world
depends on cooperative health
of LivingEarth;
To paraphrase Johan Rockstrom,
from the Stockholm Resilience Center.
Our comparative wealth map,
is not SacredEarth's cooperative health territory;
To paraphrase Gregory Bateson
of Ecological BiLateral DoubleBound Mind Mapping.
Our wealth medium,
is not necessarily EarthMother's healthiest message;
To paraphrase Marshall McLuhan
from Northern media of WiseElders.
Our resilient wealth economy
is necessarily,
and sufficiently,
gracefully and gratefully,
Matriotic Earth's resonant health-giving
as also health-receiving,
co-arising
WiseElder deep learning
sacred local-ego
through global ecology's
restorative bifocal lenses.
To paraphrase WiseElder DNA-RNA fractal-octave Solidarity,
Win-Win
not-not (0)Sum PolyPathic,
(0)Core PolyNomial Synergy
(0)Zen PolyPhonic
(0)Tao PolyReGenerate Health-Wealth Culture,
unfolding Yang
and folding in Yin,
inhaling Sacred EarthHabitat
and exhaling notnot Ego,
consuming
and producing,
investing
and divesting,
absorbing
and re-integrating,
implicating
and re-explicating,
precessing
and recessing,
investing
and re-divesting
wealthing
and re-healthing...
Gather round and listen in to a story I once saw in a show It was called
THE MAN WITH THE BIFOCAL GLASSES
now the play bill was dated Sept. 8 2011
It was about the redneck who didn't want to admit he need glasses
let alone bifocals but he kept falling down and rolling around
He tripped on a broken pencil and split his pants well he was wearing
underwear with a hole in them and that was quite a site
He tried to duck tape it closed but it stuck to his butt cheeks
Then he needed help to try and get the tape of his trailer hitch
But the man he call on his cell phone to help him told that he
couldn't help him it look just like he did a pretty good job
fixin the crack in his butt all by his self but he told him
He wasn't trying to fix the crack in is butt he was tryin' to
fix his britches he just had a hole in his underwear and the tape
stuck to the crack in the butt so now can he pull it off
Well that lead to another can of worms
He told him he couldn't do it cause he was afraid when he did
it would hurt him so bad that this man just might poo his pants and he
didn't want to take the chance of the fall out
you've got lined, leathery face,
astigmatic eyes well in place
behind what your generation
calls lennon bifocal sensation.
you still got a patch of dark hair,
but a closer, careful look there,
roots the tint of stainless spoon,
you need another dye job soon!
These eyes,
bleary behind a blurred bifocal,
stare unseeing through wet windshield wipers.
These hands,
on the steering wheel, cold, calloused and cowed,
grip tightening, loosening now and then.
These toes,
now cruelly cramped in soggy socks,
numb in my shoes, soaked in sidewalk slush.
This storm,
smears the night scene through the car window
with watery grays and smudged neon lights.
There once was a good hubby named Nick,
on his wife, he tried to play a trick-
Hot wax on the table,
was willing and able,
but sick wifey came down with a tick.
So he dumped out the wax in the sink,
was so frustrated he just didn’t think-
Wax jammed the disposal,
then dropped his bifocal,
he couldn’t see so all he did was wink.
Wifey’s sore bum then started to swell,
with one eye closed shut, Nick just couldn’t tell-
So he got real clever,
pulled disposal lever,
hand got caught on his bum and he fell!
Now the happy couple was a mess,
still didn’t love each other any less-
Tick on wifey’s hurt bum,
hubby drowned in some rum,
welcome to the moronic express!
Syllable count: 9-9-6-6-9
Limerick Contest
June 6, 2017
Playbill: Sept 8, 2001
Time gives a bifocal view to the written scenes of life.
Mental screams of past strife.
Broken pencils lead to scenes being inked, unable to erase.
Scenes misplaced.
X-ing out terms, words piercing through providing a Seeing Eye glass for transparency able to entertain those in the balcony.
Casting call for the supporting roles
Contact list full but cell phone providing no service, alone.
Curtain call;
first scene;
the first cut;
Depression rolls down her arm-pain dripping to the floor.
Living has become her anesthetic
Inherited this dis ease of dejection
Pierced flesh unable to mend, bandaged in rejection
Second call-Healing on the horizon
Head to the sky she prays for the intoxication of faith
To be healed from the genes she had held.
Final cut-Faith birthed.
You shall live and not die
©A.N.U October 31, 2014 A.N.U Experience, LLC
All rights reserved