Best Gogo Poems
WALES 1 GERMANY didn’t
The Germans take great pride
In long words measured by the clock
But can they compete when vied
With Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
METRO BOULOT DODO - GOING HOME AFTER WORK
Bobo going home to a clown
Cocoa going home for a drink
espresso going home for coffee
Fallow going to a field of grass
Gogo going to a dance club
Hoho santa going home
Idaho going for some potatoes
Jeronimo going to his tepee
Kyoto going home to Japan
Llandudno going back to Wales
Mow mow going to cut down a meadow
Nono going home without sex
Ohio going to Cleveland
Popo going to the Vatican
Quito going to Ecuador
Rolo going to eat chocolate
So so going to feel better soon
Tokyo going to the capital
Umberto going to meet an Italian
Volvo going to drive a great car
Wallow going to soak in the mud
Xoxo going to play tictacdoe
Yoyo going to play with spinning toys
Zozo going to to sleep a little
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
Note……...the title is a common French saying which suggests the repetitive nature of life. I have done an extra ( witty?) item for each letter of the alphabet to suggest different forms of “repetitiveness”. Each line is intended to be said aloud, thus for example “Metro boulot Quito” or “Metro Boulot Volvo”. My kids, when young, enjoyed this kind of word-play based on wit and humor. I still enjoy it.
QUIRKS
I once had a friend long time past
Who was wont to always break his fast
On cornflakes not with honey and milk
But pickled onions, gherkins and their ilk
Now if that’s not a quirk I’ll eat my hat
But when I do I must specify that
The brim must have ketchup, and then the crown
Will need Mulligatawny soup to wash it down
I have penchants predilections and preferences
For which others give tolerance and deferences
Like playing Wagner while eating beef jerky
And some other things that are just as quirky
I can ride a bike when not too far
Sitting backwards perched on handle bar
And though not Welsh, but from English stock
I can pronounce Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch
In choosing twixt the Burgundies and Bordeaux’s
I adjudicate by colour and by nose
But if the menu’s fish and chips with mushy pea
I’ll settle for a nice cup of tea
So live and let live and we’ll get along
With our whims each singing a different song
These fancies, whether from Venus Mars or Saturn
All add to life’s rich quirky pattern
I came to say, I cannot stay, I know I must be going, in the royal unreal realm
of simple selfish self, shedding/shredding of the u/me/my shydom charade of people poor of word, thought, premise and promise, but lay waste to words
more of toiled terdom, lest of prostrate para phrase, some ill of chance, some driven by mere sillo cir-cum-stance, but yet all speak of shillshock silly ro ma nance. When I read your
words, and see your shallow thoughts, I think of co intentions derived, so fleshily fractured in lieu of rectal information that I see only all slow contrived, love lived unrealized.
You can take yourself, so important, so reliant that no one else can u be, yet when alone you pray, your wishes seem to say, the love you've seen to sow, is what you've slain and all your own is forgiven forever and a day. Turn back your so so speak space indifferential don't ever slack to remember your place in loves real time rhyme, when you learned that just to love is as good as to be loved, unless it is meant to be by a willful non being, guilty to of all that is knowing, not knowing unforgiving un less you
thinkthank you could, be awful good and not pre pursue a moment that all is said in non normal nomenclature alphabet albeit I follow you in all of my instincts to let you gogo. I see all that is you and wallow in your everpresence of my own loud aloneness yet faux pause for your anoited
allowance of love forgiveness in our togetherness aplenty. When love ends
and couples cease to exist, where does love go??? When do u abandon "ship".
Dear granny, we shall always remember you each day;
You’ve fostered us, and so much of you each can say –
If but life was a crystal, we’d seen through it this dreadful fate,
And learnt to espouse the plight in advance that you are late.
You were weary of ailments and lethargies that had you slain,
But from a dream how we wish we would awake to see you again,
And jest with you and laugh with you and rejoice with laughter –
As you narrate to us the family history of the early 60s before and after.
Oh, Gogo, our beloved –How much in God we pray and quest
That your disembodied soul be saved only with the celestial best;
Treasured shall your absence from this barbaric life in eternity be –
And honour shall at your interment prevail as we lament thee.
As withered from this planet your life becomes, we accept now that it ends,
And all we hope for as your bereft, is that you betimes make new friends.
All through the year it's been coming
the months, weeks and days countdown
then in that final month of the year
all the pressure makes one frown
It's the fastest paced month by far
everything's a gogo in December
all pointing to Santa time at Christmas
be ready get all the pressies remember!
Sadly the real reason for the season
has been lost in this materialistic world
God sent His son to be our saviour
instead man leaves the message curled
It can bring a mixture of weather
where ever in the world you may be
of course it's my birthday month
now let's find as real nice green tree
Sung to the hymn of “The yellow rose of Texas”
I was cursing down the road
tired and all a lone
just a passing through ole` Oklahome
So I shut down and pulled in-
to this old run down joint
I went in through the back door
and I got myself a beer
I was sitting at the bar feeling mighty tired
When I noticed this GOGO dancer looking right at me
She came up to greet me, and said her name was Bee
Well, my that GOGO dancer she sure looked good to me
She looked to be bread in ole` Kentucky
But just a crumb down here
She’s knocked kneed double jointed
with a cauliflowered ear.
She smokes them white owl stogies
and drinks them rum and sodies
I see her habits are quite brutal
in bed she’ll be Apple strudel
Well now that GOGO dancer she looks good to me….
I think it’s best time for leaving
Or in the morning I’ll be a grieving
MY O MY THAT GOGO DANCER
SURE DID LOOK GOOD TO ME!!!!!!!
V1
Connie was a looker, forty years ago.
Connie's still a looker, she looks like cookie dough.
You'll often find sweet Connie, talking to a mirror
Sayin, "Mirror mirror on the wall, please shrink my saggy rear!"
Chorus:
Connie, Connie camp queen,
Queen of the motor home park.
V2
Earl was a looker, forty years ago.
Earl's still a looker, though you wouldn't know,
By looking at old Earl cause you're blinded by his nose
and just like Rudolph Reindeer's, you'd even say it glows.
Repeat Chorus
V3
Well Connie married Earl, back in sixty-six,
some would say the both of them had passed up better picks,
but to this very day, they're very much in love,
they stick together firmly, like fingers on a glove.
Repeat Chorus
V4
Earl drives the motorhome, Connie rides along,
With her with dog menagerie, what a throbbing throng,
of Pekinese and Poodles, a Pit Bull and a Pom,
Now tell me this, Amigos, what could possibly go wrong?
Repeat Chorus
V5
When campin' at the RV park, Connie soon takes charge,
of anything and anyone, ain't bigger than a barge.
No one's crossed ol' Connie up and lived to tell it yet.
I wouldn't cross ol' Connie on a million dollar bet!
Repeat Chorus
V6
Earl likes to disappear, he heads off to the bar,
But Connie keeps a tight leash, he don't get very far.
Keepin' Earl's sanity requires many beers.
I think it's a miracle, he's made it all these years!
Repeat Chorus
V7
Connie went commando one day, went back to her roots,
wearin' nuttin' 'neath her miniskirt, above her GoGo boots.
Someone hollered: "Go find Earl, I think he oughta know,
his favorite girl Connie is puttin' on a show!"
Repeat Chorus
V8
Well listen little doggies, you never more will roam.
'Cause Connie and old Earl are in an old folk's home,
but Earl is just as happy as if he had good sense,
when he wants to drink a beer, he climbs the wire fence.
Repeat Chorus
At grandma's we played with
mud
Ate sweets that gave us cavities
And my cousins were my best
buddies
Granny would make pap, white
and soft
Served with wors
(sausages) that made everyone's
mouth water, even mum.
We'd gather around a fire
''making maize magic'' we'd say
As we braai maize and vleis
(meat)
Before the fire dies Gogo
(granny)
Makes her legendary vetkoeks,
A delight to enjoy for days.
Sometimes we' climb the mango
trees
As the thrill intrigued us, for it
was dangerous
The bees would buzz and we
just ran
But Gogo awaited at the kitchen
door
With a belt to give a hiding
But we would cry before she
punishes us
In hopes of dodging the bullet.
At grandma's we grew up.
i dreamt a dream the other night
where up was down and left was right
fox news was gone all anti Bush
Obama now there latest crush
Bill O Reilly was campaigning
to free Bradley Manning
Shepard Smith announced
he was no longer fake tanning
reports were coming thick and fast
revelations revealing Grechens exotic past
the truth exposed re. Bret Baier
totally bald thats spray on hair
unfair and unbalanced was now the logo
Megan Kelly quit and now dancing gogo
Murdoch declared he was terminly ill
Bill Hemmer broke the story of the old mans will
every cent to charity
that im afraid was too much for me
i awoke confused and in a sweat
in a panic turned on my tv set
oh thank God sanity restored
O Reilly was on declaring Manning a coward
turns out Grechens past was squeaky clean
Obamas policys are all obscene
love in with George W scheduled for 8 o clock
but poor Megans still dancing around the clock.
I felt a bit like Humbert, or John Proctor,
an ageing vulture drawn to fresh young flesh.
She was a pretty, witty Turkish doctor
(so, not exactly plundering the creche!)
She seemed to like me, though we'd never met.
"Why don't you come to Turkey?" she'd implore.
(You've guessed by now I met her on the Net!)
My mind was moving that way, more and more.
Some hanker for one evening with Stan Getz,
Cafe A-Gogo, in the wee small hours.
My fantasy was always minarets
in Istanbul, those slender marble towers
(which seem too graceful for this ugly world)
and me, enthralled by shape and song and air,
as muezzin's warble hovered, wavered, curled,
calling the faithful to their morning prayer.
One Easter, I had four days with no work.
For once, the bank account was almost full.
"I'll go see Aysin," (thus was named my Turk),
"since Ankara must be close to Istanbul."
One word about the people of that land.
They're nosey. Answer questions, they'll ask more.
They meet an Arab, they can sell him sand.
They're merchants. Sent to Hell, they'd open a store.
Turks want to know two things: the area,
in meters squared, encompassed by your flat,
and please confirm that Greeks are hairier
and darker-skinned than them ("Greek girls are fat?")
Met at the airport by a courtesy car,
I'm gliding through the magic Eastern night,
fielding the driver's questions - "Is it far
from Maine to Malibu? Do I look white?"
Below the gray blah canopy
Suffering from bad attitude
and seasonal psychosis
The human race sprints
No finish line required
and Everyone wins gold
Music blaring
Bikini tops daring
Exposed guts not caring
Rooftop gogo dancer staring
At me
Ok, maybe that's vice versa
Its a poolside, post-graduate MTV Spring Break
Some of us much more "post" than others
The glaze and haze of Vegas
Sprawling in the manner built for Caesar
Decadence is the Neighborhood Watch
Where every citizen is
On patrol
On Patron
All far gone
Judgment
By them or ourselves
Left town for lent
Or excommunicated at the stake
Where loungers and readers
And tricksters and treaters
are one
Tighter than conjoined twins
playing with crazy glue in Texas heat
And the ways that used to be
And the ways we wish there were
And the ways we can rent by glass
Are included in the price of admission
Guilt not included
As everyone drops their towels
Hoping for someone to pick them up.
(9/7/13)
I've been me ,
A meepy child accused of crafts .
Tangled in my sleep ,
For waisting time ,
Loved the errors at cloud nine .
And still I made it with no trial.
I've lived in the upside down world ,
Where each dream was taken for word ,
Graded was for worst ,
Still I am an agent on quest ,
Posturing those of abo gogo
Imfihlo zi'mnadi zabo Khokho .
I am still me here undying ,
Judged from my peace when snoring .
That I am for one pictoring .
What I wear is problem to all ,
What I eat is a disgrace to the wall
For I am answering my greatest call.
I owe you no theory ,
I am the one whose heart is drained ,
Whose eyes are dried ,
Whose moods take charge ,
And I am telling you .
I didn't choose this path ,
For my fate was choosen long before the birth of me .
It’s like waiting for God,
oh so much. Yet why,
oh why so long?
Clocks move so slowly as I watch,
yes, watch my wrist, too, oh so long,
so long the clock, the watch,
the clock, the watch.
Yet strangely, irritably,
the time – the time that
seemed so long – has gone,
gone so swiftly,
passed into the past.
Time that was pre-noon,
is now post-noon; aye, now,
for morning has shifted, never to be
seen, smelt, heard, felt.
Gone, for now once more
becomes then; aye, then.
But there will be another.
Oh God, oh yes.
Oh God, oh indeed.
(Dec 2021)
Terrible dreams three days running, today's was an unbearable doozy. I woke up in a hotel room and had lost Tsuki and Yukiko. I had to get dressed and go out in the world searching for them.
But I couldn't find enough clothes to wear, and where were my gawdamn shoes, where did all these disgusting gogo boots come from, can't go looking for my dogs when I'm half naked.
Why are wormy afterbirth-slimed newborn kittens and puppies crawling pitifully all over the floor? Did Yukiko have puppies and kittens? Have to find those dogs! What if I never see them again? I won't be able to live.
Why can't I have nightmares about cool vampires and werewolves instead of losing my dogs.