He is not the brightest of guys
alone he could not survive
If he counts to twenty two
he removes both his shoes
Twenty he can count but ask for a hand
he needs more digits to understand
Draw a picture for Richard
Draw a picture for Richard
His name is Nick
but gets called a Dick
Draw a picture for Richard
He doesn't mean to be impolite
a coward he avoids all fights
He works all week but never gets paid
cause he is at the wrong place everyday
He gets fifty ballots in the mail
he votes each one no big deal
If they send them to him he votes to win
but it's last election that snail mail
Draw a picture for Richard
Draw a picture for Richard
His name is Nick
but gets called a Dick
Draw a picture for Richard.
Percolating perfect poppycock, pretentious, impolite.
Roiling resistance to reverent recourse, rudiment rap.
Ceaseless sass surrendered to cell; spoiled sediments settle.
O, Death! I curse you,
For you are impolite,
You don't knock before you get in.
Death, where is your pity?
Yesterday, you took my sister;
Today, you snatch my brother;
And tomorrow, you will take me.
Death, how like Samson you are!
Snip-snap, you've taken a zygote;
Snip-snap, you've eaten half-mature flesh;
Snip-snap, you've devoured an adult flesh;
Snip-snap, an old flesh is gone.
Have pity on this little child!
The premise goes everyone knows
before entering the premises
while still outside yet on the mat
it's no gentleman who forgets
to doff his cap or remove his hat
if dining out or at a private party
for a particular person
it's impolite at most
to sip slurp or slink a drink
before the toast to a hospitable host
and when beside the table laden
confronted by the salsa bowl
biting then re-dipping chips
the most unmannerly of all
is he (or she) who double-dips
“It’s a very beautiful bird. It can never be ugly!
It’s the most beautiful bird in the world!”
- Quote by Purnima Devi Barman,
Wildlife biologist who saved
Greater Adjutant stork species
-------------------------------------------------------
Greater Adjutant stork
Uncomely looks
Despised by all
For being ugly
No other fault
No graceful gait
No melody
Awkward height
Impolite eater
Unsettled gaze
A woman fell in love
Raised an all woman
Hargila army to save
To educate, made those
Who despised love the bird
Rescued,
Rehabilitated
Cared,
Now the storks
Live in peace
Love can change
Love can conquer
Love is best when
Under pressure, so
Says the saved storks
An endangered bird
Brought back to live
Just because one
Woman saw beauty
In this incongruous bird
Politeness,
like kindness,
may not sell newspapers
or win the partisan debate
Civility,
unlike deviliciousness,
will not win the civil war
nor leverage the biggest tax rebate
But integrity
is the world wide web of nature
that composed the paper
and incubates
the peace we celebrate
when impolite love to hate
of systemic trauma gates
recede well past faded
therapeutic empathy,
becoming civilly sedate
Singing
while dancing
in politely well-said company
not seen
or heard from
of late.
I have a secret weapon Leprechaun Larry said.
We thought he was odd, a bit tiny in his head.
It will get me the magic secret to the pot of gold.
His claims were abrasive, rude, impolite and cold.
What is his secret? I wondered to my cousin Mug.
I think it is that he has a pet, a rare kind of ladybug.
Ladybug was not talking, so we followed him about.
Until Leprechaun Larry began to grouse and pout.
If I show you my secret weapon, I will lose power.
He said this to us in the middle of an April Shower.
I have to get stoked up and ready for March again.
We finally left him alone, because he is our kin.
four little Hallows Eve spooks sitting on a fence
Named Ford, Carter, Rockefeller and Pence.
Camouflaged as jacks, the little one says.
She is persnickety and impolite, we call her Inez.
This is my song, says the singer; Stay out of it, please.
It is ghostly and spooky, this floats to them on a breeze.
The jacks are quiet when a werewolf howls their way.
It turns their lights to black, scary end to their ghostly day.
We are the goof birds get out of our way
We are here to fly and fumble, said their daddy Ray
We are the goof birds, we’ll eat all of your feed.
Get ready, here we come, to gobble up your seed.
This was from our mama, the toughest goof we know.
She is determined and unwavering from beak to toe.
We baby goof birds are learning how to be impolite.
Loving our parents, who give most others a serious fright.
I had been driving for decades.
A yellow Buick, deluxe convertible circa '51',
the model with the three-speed manual transmission -
8 cylinder.
A deserted desert diner. The door creaks
as I enter,
green tomatoes fry on a skillet.
I throw my fedora,
feed bread into a counter toaster.
A woman appears, drying her hands.
"You've found me in my old age -
how impolite of you."
She says between disapproving lips.
She is indeed old, her face lined and
yet lovely.
"Is that your Buick"?
Before I can answer, she asks,
"is that your hat on a rack at the back"?
I answer, "I think this is our date."
"Only this time you're the pitiful figure." She interjects,
spooning tomatoes onto a plate.
I remember how badly I had treated her,
making my excuses, leaving early in the evening.
"This is it!" I exclaim.
Our second chance!."
A withering look.
"In my story," she says, "you die young on the highway,
in a ball of flames."
I imagine my black charred hand
on the big white steering wheel
as may horn honks impatiently.
Green tomatoes sizzle
as I disappear.
The bashful soup tureen stayed silent
Watching the impolite eaters slurp their soup
Their mouths were on the rim of their bowls
They were slurping in the most annoying ways
Aren’t you going to say something? The cat asked.
Soup tureen wanted to, but was fearful,
Afraid her input would be shunned,
And she might be disrespected if she spoke.
Not yet, she said to the curious cat.
Why don’t you say something?
I am afraid of humans, the cat replied.
I let them give me kibble and that is it.
A dog named Boy
What a Life the same life as the 1st person on Earth
Earth a much different place to go back to that time
Son forgive the plight the trenches of middle class
The high and lows have no fight
often impolite, you can exist further without
Without a loving family there was love.. in the beginning
All the love was wrong or something you couldn't absorb
Call it impossible but everyone learns
A quarrel a conquest of belief
To free the streets and spring a foot too loose
We exist for the pleasure of the gods
Who can live for 30,000 years and above
Is anything better now that women control the noose
I can yell I don't give a damn
It won't be heard
The rapid running water is too loud
I see the shore but without an attempt I will drown
The dreams have faded the purpose jaded
I reflex into fetal position and wait for my Love
She commands a trial
To what extent I will follow
To which heart challenges me more
I will follow
…or Hey! Who you callin' fat?
There is no subterfuge
In the hippopotamus,
She's just naturally huge
From top to bottomus*.
She loves the rivers more than lands,
On stubby little legs she stands
And grazes 'cause she has no hands.
For losing pounds she has no plans,
Such as Jenny Craig or rubber bands.
Obesity for her's no plight,
To be big and beautiful is her right,
So about her weight, she's not uptight,
Nor loses any sleep at night.
Some say she's rude and impolite,
But she just takes another bite
And says, "So whattamus!"
*My thanks to the Cowardly Lion from "The Wizard of Oz".
She cut the ties
The good
The bad
The menopause
Finally, the long pause
Followed by the loneliness
Days became weeks, became months
It was time
Life begins at forty
Did it, end at forty-six
Swanky bar
Lights, music, fear
She felt that drowning sensation
Maybe to early
She felt eyes upon her
Smiling, teasing, no words
Her guard was up
It’s impolite to stare
Sorry, I was undressing you
Never in her life
Reality hit home, indignant
And tell me, how far did you get
All the way down to your inhibitions
Twenty-three years worth, she thought
The ice was broken
Tom was the first
John wouldn't be the last.
I can’t remember myself
I’m lost
in the attraction
the bleeding need
the dirty impolite hunger
make me somehow matter
soap me with important gifts
drape me brilliant feathers
curves that bedevil
make me pretty
to him
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