There are time capsules in the rural Mid-West,
not retro constructs, but temporal dislocations
that remain as was,
for lack of a reason to be other.
Small town restaurants are steeped
in a comfortable inertia;
diners serve
all broasted, broiled and breaded everything.
Amish noodles nestle in thick white bowls.
There are still drive-in movies
where movies once missed
can be missed again.
We have bars where the jukebox is not a junk box
but a wood and chrome depository
for long archived selections.
Beer here is brewed as brawny
as rolled-up forearms.
We’re futuristic in a plaid and dilatory way.
We are post-modern Jetson reruns,
we dwell just West of the middle of tomorrow.
Categories:
jetson, poetry,
Form: Free verse
George Jetson was the last one in Spacely’s office that day.
When he saw his family he yelled “Hip! Hip! Hooray!”
Their TV show made famous by Hannah Barbara and TV too
I watched them every Saturday morning in the sixties. How about you?
Categories:
jetson, christmas,
Form: Rhyme
Circa April 17th, 2120, or 1820 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)
Born twenty years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely dirty deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
Homo sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.
Categories:
jetson, absence, april, creation, earth,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
There are time capsules in the rural Mid-West,
not retro constructs, but temporal dislocations
that remain as was,
for lack of a reason to be other.
Restaurants steeped, not in nostalgia,
but in a comfortable inertia;
diners that serve
broast, broiled and breaded,
drive-ins where the movies you missed
can now (if you have a mind to),
miss again.
We have bars where the jukebox is not a junk box
but a wood and chrome depository
for archived time-warping selections.
Beer here has a fabled and dusty history,
and is brewed as meaty as a rolled-up forearm.
Astronauts are grown here,
the moon is their backyard,
their silvery spaceships
launch each year from every State Fair.
We’re futuristic in a plaid and dilatory way,
we are as post-modern as Jetson reruns.
We dwell just West of the middle of tomorrow.
Categories:
jetson, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Golly, this day could be my very
last!
So no, I am not going to organize
my house really fast.
I will sit with my cat, her calico
fur, a love drape upon me.
With warm cup of Joe and yes,
writing poetry that sings of life,
not strife!
Not one ear of mine for doomsday
sayers.
Who love predicting our coming end.
Go look out your window, do!
Do you see millions of dead?
Is an iceberg in your yard, over
your head?
That's the vision the media wants
you to retain.
A planet filled with floods, fires
and incurable pain.
Their latest is the pandemic scare,
hello?
Get your flu shot, the drug
companies see you are a cash cow.
"Come down to the pharmacy,get your
flu shot," they hawk now!
Ah, media, I love your theatrics!
As evil as the snake in Eden was.
How crazy are your prancing antics!
Such pitiful, feigned hypocrisy.
Negative, overpaid, lying donkeys!
Methinks Panagiota dislikes phony
news.
Very true, very true!
News should be on one night a year.
Imagine how free your mind would be.
Not overloaded by the mongrels of
flotsom and jetson chicanery.
September 20, 2019
Categories:
jetson, freedom, meaningful, perspective, planet,
Form: Rhyme
Photographs
Moving pictures
Talking pictures
TV
Motion pictures
Records 45’s, 33’s,
Cameras and film
Colored photographs
Cassette tapes
Colored TVs
8 Track Tapes
Video cameras
VHS Tapes
Floppy Discs
Cameras with digital discs
CDs
I-pods
I-phones
With
a built in camera
That works better
Than my four hundred dollar Nikon,
Face-time, which reminds us of George Jetson,
Text messages - the only way some of our offspring "talk" to us.
What is next?
I-cars?
Steering wheel Bluetooth, and movies in cars is already here.
Categories:
jetson, nostalgia,
Form: List
Milky Galaxy
Heavenly Bodies
Astronaut Training
Space Exploration
Glenn, Scott, Carpenter
60’s Space Race
Explore Cosmos
Land On The Moon
Favorite Martian
Aliens
George Jetson
Lost In Space
Moon
Categories:
jetson, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Diminished Hexaverse
If I could be a cartoon character
Which one would I be
I thought about being Fred Flinstone
But he's too old-fashioned for me
And then there's maybe George Jetson
A man who knew electronics
Nothing like Yosemite Sam
Who needed to be hooked on phonics
And what about Shaggy and Scooby
You gotta love those scooby snacks
I've never really considered a Smurf
And their tiny little mushroom shacks
Or maybe I'd become a super hero
Who comes to save the day
Batman , Green Hornet or Underdog
Who puts the bad guys away
Maybe I'd live in Jellystone Park
Where Yogi is the king
For Hello Mr Ranger Sir
Is just the funniest thing
Categories:
jetson, funny
Form: Rhyme
J-Hy Jetson
What I look like chasing that red bone cause she light-skin when I’m dark
chocolate yeah more like a mocha mint you know brown and refreshing self-
conscious and slightly neglecting but nobody’s perfect it’s when my shoes don’t
match my shirts I feel worthless so now I’m girl less I guess I’m heartless that
mean I’m beat less wit a soul just as hard as the streets is just Lupe’s talk I can
speak this no foreign tongue I’m young loves my weakness my verbal’s able with
no one to compete with even public speakers are left speechless I'm never
muted underground unsigned were the root is the truth is left undefined my lines
are jewels kid ten disciples I stand out like Judas still shine so it’s fine I’m jewel
less iceless cool J-Hy my gifts such a priceless tool.
Categories:
jetson, life,
Form: I do not know?