I have never seen a puddle jumper with such glee
You have to introduce us, or at least tell me
What is his name? Who can this creature be?
He’s some kind of squirrel, said my Aunt Tee.
I thought you had them all named I said to her.
I used to, but there are so many, my count is not pure.
It might be Jed, Zed, Zeke, Twit or ****.
He is enjoying the rain today more than the cat.
I’ve begun recycling emotions
so they’ll last longer
and we can save the rat-bag planet.
Sometimes I jump in elevators
I did it this morning
on the third floor
this guy looked at me, askance.
“Do you think you’re going to live forever?” I demanded.
Sometimes I look at Peter and think
that he’s the sexiest guy on earth
I want to ravish him - and we’re at breakfast.
Can a boyfriend be TOO perfect?
“I could do better,” I tell him, out of the blue
- because you’ve got to keep them on their toes.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said, looking up from his buttery-croissant, sympathetically.
“You’re doing your best,” he added.
“Wait,” I said, “what are we talking about?”
.
.
Songs for this:
What's going on by Paul Carrack
(In the early hours of 13 May 1988,
the body of legendary jazz trumpeter
Chet Baker was found lying on an
Amsterdam sidewalk, two stories
below his hotel room window.)
What happened, Chet?
I’d like to bet
you threw it away.
Everything happens to you.
Your December grey
drowned you in May,
so you fumbled through
to that Otherwhere,
but it wasn’t there –
just cold sea air.
Que paso, Beau?
I’d like to know
what did it this time.
Maybe a flame from the past
in a minor key
on the Zuider Zee
hit with such a blast
that you tried to run
from the starter’s gun,
but it can’t be done.
What to conclude, dude?
Did you get screwed
by dealers again?
Why were your feet made of clay?
Such tales to tell
of the wishing well,
but you had to pay.
If it starts with teeth,
it becomes a wreath
on the bricks beneath.
So, drugs or drink?
I’d like to think
you really got high.
You finally learned how to fly –
not on the dope,
but some species of hope
that just happened by,
the sublimest tone
that was ever known,
from some far out inner zone.
Fall in love, jumping in Autumn.
Splash of hues, refusing wither.
Leaping off, cushioning bottom.
Littering leaves in a dither.
Splash of hues, refusing wither.
Monotone rainbows in clothing.
Litter of leaves in a dither.
Burnt orange, maple reds, gloating.
Monotone rainbows in clothing.
Shaken off, adding to pile of
Burnt orange, maple reds gloating.
Looking on - mother-trees proud of.
Shaken off, adding to pile of.
Growing up, moments of winging.
Looking on - mother-trees proud of
Sailing sons, daughters caught springing.
Growing up, moments of winging.
Leaping off, cushioning bottom.
Sailing sons, daughters caught springing.
Fall in love jumping in Autumn.
Sneaking through the graveyard
in the dead of night
to a hidden garden
in full moonlight
you want to be careful better beware
the fiery eyes
of the scarecrow's stare
if the spell is broken
you open Pandora's Box
and it's lights out
for the jack-o-lanterns
they're in for a nasty shock
you have to be careful better beware
the Halloween screams
of your worst nightmare
'cause something's jumping in the pumpkin patch
it's goblins going trick or treat
they're a-getting hungry
for something good to eat
Arisen, she tumbled into a dream which, replicated a
memory of one previously.
Uncertain and still, like the tiptoe of a newborn finch on the
branch, a world of chaos lay before her.
The only certainty was the risk itself.
The tree loses its leaves but stands tall, embedded within its
roots.
She took a tumble; the sudden reality of a harsh end
ironically, saved her from it.
Fly away new homebird.
Our roots will stay strong forever. Do not be afraid to fall...
We will catch you, always
Jumpin' Frog
My name is Dan'l Webster
this is my story and I'm stickin' to it
I'm green with a long tongue
wet, slimy skin for a coat.
I eat all sorts of insects
but flies, now there’s a delicacy.
Used to live in a pond
till Jim Smiley took me.
Sure do miss my family
and all my friends.
Had a good job
racing others of my kind.
Jim would bet money
with others of his kind.
I was the best. I could
out hop another for distance
and speed. Twasn't hard as
I was rewarded with flies.
A stranger appeared one day
looking to bet with ole' Jim.
He needed one like me, so
I was left with the stranger.
Whilst Jim went out for another
like me, that stranger filled me
with big round lead balls.
Don't taste like any flies.
Jim came back and bet $40
that I could beat this new
challenger. Well, someone
said go and I couldn't move.
Jim lost his 40 smackers and
was madder than a wet hornet.
When the stranger left, Jim
picked me up and I felt heavier.
He turned me upside down
and I croaked and them metal
balls rolled out. Jim was upset
but couldn't find the stranger.
I never raced in Calaveras County
again. That's my story and I'm
stickin' to it.
Jumping Jill she just loved to jump
From when she woke until bedtime.
She was afraid that she’d get plump
If she did not jump through daytime.
Once Jumping Jill did jumping jacks,
She hit and broke Ma’s precious chime.
Ma screamed and scared Jill with the axe,
Now Jill thinks jumping is a crime.
Among 3rd Place
Jill Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina
Joyful jumping, oh so jolly,
try it in a tram or trolley
Jiggle, juggle, Jane's tamale,
a laugh, a lark, fine, fun folly.
Happy, hopping, silly stomping,
rarified and risky romping,
bouncing Bonnie's butterscotch,
hilarious, howling hoppyscotch.
Lofty leaping, crazy creeping,
mindful mother's mostly sleeping,
but don't bop with Betty's brisket,
she'll conk you, bonk you, no, don't risk it.
I’d rather walk into a quiet house
Lone sweet kitty greeting me at the door
No hell raging from my fiery spouse
Lips spewing lunacy and hate no more
Still jumping when the phone rings late at night
Your constant contemplation of sweet death
Ringing in my rousing head as I fight
Running from your cold hands and heated breath
I’ve covered up the holes inside the walls
But contusions in my soul are steadfast
I feel the crossness of your rising calls
As you wake me from my slumber harassed
Lone sweet kitty calming my wounded heart
I put together what you took apart
I used to jump on sidewalk cracks
when I was angry with my mother
which was a lot of the time
I spent my childhood
feeling enraged
feeling less than
feeling like the one who was not the favorite
for I was not
never became the favorite either
to this day I will jump hard on a crack
hoping to break my mother’s back
Haughty Tiger was blatantly vain
She presumed that poor Ass had no brain
Ass stayed cool when hunters came
And pretended to be lame
But Miss Knowall was bound to a chain.
- - - - - - - - -
Pumping iron, jumping rope
don’t agree with me
mainly because
I’ve two problem knees
But 16-ounce curls
with a cold can of beer
move me to sprint ~
to any restroom that’s near
Quantum jumping is my hobby these days,
Some might call it madness in a nutshell;
But don’t you remember our plays?
Astral projection to break the spell;
Switching timelines into an alternate life,
Another version of me in a different hell.
I try to escape this complex strife,
Then I remember that I have my bell,
Saves me in any time and in any life;
I can feel it’s sacred frequencies in every cell.
You might be asking yourself,
What a whimsical hobby to have,
But do not laugh, whispers my Higher Self,
Embrace your hobbies, be brave.
They are imprints encoded in our genes,
And they shape our cosmic machines.
My trust was shattered
when I saw you out last night
hugging that lovely young girl.
Forgive me, my sweet,
for failing to disclose this:
My younger sister’s in town.
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