Long Bite to eat Poems
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( story 03/14/11)
I saw a man coming down the road
Head held high, eyes were strong.
He stopped and asked of me
If he could have a bite to eat.
His clothes were all torn and tattered
I asked him what was the matter.
He looked at me and his eyes turned down
His face changed from a smile to a frown.
Hard times I have come across
I was let go by my boss
He said the times was making him downsize
And he had to let go of people to survive.
Everyone was doing the same
People losing their jobs was quite a shame.
Being a farmer who had hard times too
I knew exactly what he was going thru.
So I invited him inside to sit for a spell
For traveling these roads could really be hell.
He was given some soup to take
the chill out of his bones
And was told by the farmer that he wasn’t alone.
He was then given some dinner to eat
To this man it was quite a treat.
The farmer told him he could bathe and
stay the night - and if he wanted to leave
He could leave at first light.
He laid out some pajamas for him to wear
Even gave him some clean underwear.
The bed in the spare room was “ oh so nice”
And he slept peacefully throughout the night.
When he awoke there was breakfast on the table
Coffee, ham and eggs, and cream cheese on a bagel.
After having breakfast he felt like a new man
He looked for the farmer to shake his hand.
He thanked the farmer and asked him his name
He pointed to a wooden nameplate which said:
J. CHRISTHISSON- but some call me J.C.
We are accustomed to a variety birds who, after we fill our feeders, find a way
to fly up, perch a while and have a snack or two every day.
It’s usually the same birds each day with quiet smiles we greet
but recently a Rose-breasted grosbeak happened by for a bite to eat.
We realized when it came to our visitors
he was a different bird from all the rest
by the bright red triangle like a Superman emblem emblazoned on his chest.
He visited the feeder off and on…overcoming his initial instinctive fear
then brought along his son or daughter…when he knew the coast was clear.
What we witnessed next was one of the beauties of nature…
a beauty that’s second to none…
when that rose-breasted grosbeak took seeds from our feeder
and fed them to his son…
Or daughter…it’s difficult to tell since I’m not an ornithologist.
but son or daughter this is one moment we wouldn’t have wanted to miss.
Because as we watched the father feed his fledgling…
as they performed this beautiful gastronomic ballet…
we were reminded of the circle of life and the important part that parents play.
How all parents want to keep their offspring safe…are tryin to do their best
whether it’s a human being like me…or a bird with a red triangle on its chest.
How all parents should be feeding, housing, protecting and celebrating
the little ones whose lives they all had a big part in creating.
As I look around at what we humans are doing to one another…
with our wars, our prejudices…our abusive and hateful words….
I sometimes wish we were less like humans…
and a little more like the birds.
Memories for sale the ticket master said to me.
You have to enter seventh street, at a quarter after three
You mean in the afternoon, I said, “right?”
He laughed and said “no, our machine does not appear in plain sight.’
It shows up after three a.m. when the world is asleep.
When you get close, you have to approach it in a kind of creep.
there might be storm troopers there; if so, go away.
If they do not shoot you, you can try another day.
But what memories are for sale? I asked. How do I know I’d want them?
They have your favorites- the ones that made you snort milk onto your chin.
They’ll make you laugh and remember the best times you ever had.
I trusted him, and so I set my alarm for two-thirty, and I felt very glad.
The troopers were there when I started creeping up the street.
I rolled myself into an alley and had a little bite to eat.
Waiting for them to leave was agony of course.
But they finally did, and I bought a favorite memory of me and my old horse.
I was thrilled and went back to that machine- time after time after time.
Buying memories I had forgotten, they were worth the trouble and my dime.
Ogden Nactyl
It's hard to keep your dignity intactyl
when confronted by a pterodactyl.
In Praise of Toms
Dorsey, Dooley, Sawyer, Thumb -
names for Tom are never dumb.
Gracing the arc of history,
it was Tom who declared us free.
Unfortunate Math History
When Euclid visited the square,
he brought his straight edge there.
Descartes wasn't so encumbered
but his days were numbered.
Every Egg
Every time an egg is fried,
it's so difficult to decide
over easy or over hard,
and, so, in this regard,
my conscience is my guide.
Sometimes a Nut
Considering a hot fudge Sundae,
or a delightful fruit parfait,
I ask myself the question, "What...
would this be without a nut?"
Every One of You's a Nut
It takes each one of you to make a whole
as you mix together in a bowl.
Almond, cashew, peanut too,
It's not the same without any of you.
I proudly say and shovel you in my gut,
every one of you's a nut.
El Condor Nutty
Apologies to Paul Simon, and apologies to myself,
pacifist, vegetarian, and slave to rhymes.
I visited my trusty tool shed,
where I heard a voice that softly said,
"I'd rather be a hammer than a nail".
It's words like these that move me without fail.
So, I sharply struck that nail upon its head.
For exercise, I took to my feet,
and heard, "I'd rather be a forest than a street".
As I briskly continued my walk,
I hoped these things would not keep up their talk.
Then I ordered a burger for a bite to eat,
and said, "I hope you're a happy piece of meat".
Dyson Duckworth
Dyson Duckworth cleared the air...
of impurities no longer there,
so filthy and so foul.
What's this to do with the price of waterfowl?
Go ask a wise old owl.
I was on my way to Nashville,
Planned to be a country star,
The Grand Old Opry was where I was meant to be.
I drove across the Mississippi,
Stopped in Memphis for the night,
And that's where fate stepped in and changed my destiny.
I found a cheap motel and showered,
Went out to get a bite to eat,
My cash was low, so there was little I could choose.
A cup of coffee, and a burger,
A slice of southern pecan pie,
And a copy of the latest Opry news.
But in a small café on Beale Street,
Upon a postage stamp-sized stage,
A pinpoint spot to frame her face was all they used,
I watched my dreams of fame in Nashville
Fade like smoke rings in the air
When I heard Lutie Mae McDaniel sing the blues.
You could tell she'd been a looker,
But her voice, once pure, I'm sure,
Now was raspy, wrecked by cigarettes and booze.
But every word was raw emotion,
Full of love, and loss, and life,
And I felt every single one down to my shoes.
There was no one on piano,
Just Lutie Mae and a guitar,
At break I asked if my assistance she could use.
She drawled, "Auditions are tomorrow."
I said, "Ma'am, here I am tonight."
Then I sat down right there and knocked out "Beale Street Blues".
If you should ever get to Memphis
And find you've time upon your hands,
Check out a small and smoky dive called "Beale Street Lu's".
That's now my little slice of heaven
Where each night at eight and ten
I play while Lutie Mae McDaniel sings the blues.
Homeless, Mister, can you spare a dime,
Been like this for a long, long time,
Lost this leg in Afghanistan,
Trying to do the best that I can.
Homeless, Mister, you got any work?
I’ve a license to drive a truck,
Thanks to you anyway my friend,
For a long time just the way it’s been.
Homeless, Mister, where’s a good shelter,
Need to get out of the weather,
One hundred degrees in summer,
And zero degrees in the winter.
Homeless, Mister, can you give a ride,
It’s not very far, just two miles,
Could you buy me a bite to eat,
Promise not to soil your leather seats.
Most distressing in America,
In this great land of plethora,
Hearing the words time after time,
Homeless, Mister can you spare a dime.
Classic, the recipe for French pastry
Heavenly to the palate and tasty
Open middle with a filling so creamy
Custard that's called crème patisserie
Observe the delicacy of this treat
Longing to have just one lil' bite to eat
At this moment, I feel myself itching
To bake a dozen eclairs, perhaps more
Exposing the layers that I adore.
Extra delicious, the ganache topping...
Chocolate glaze I'd eat without stopping.
Last bite taken, savored it to the end
Accompanied with milk or coffee blend
If you've never tried one you really should
Rest assured you will find them very good
Sweet morsel is the eclair confection.
DON’T CALL ME LAZY!!!
I woke up this morning
Two hours after Noon
Had little bite to eat
Went back in bed quite soon.
Don’t say that !…Not lazy!
Have P.A.H. disease.
So..thank you very much,
I’ll sleep if I well please!
Never up long enough
Some days to get chores done
But soon as I’m finished
Go to bed with the sun.
Days when feeling normal
Get up ranting to go
You guessed it, the next day
If moving, moving slow.
I’ll slowly get in bed
Yup, under covers creep
No reason to stay up
So going back to sleep!
Barbara Barry Nishanian
Jan. 5, 2018
In our leisurely drive across the country one of our delights
was an old school house in Nebraska…where we were blessed to spend the night.
We were already in the middle of nowhere….when ‘turn here’ our GPS crowed…
and took us another 4 miles down a one lane gravel road.
The renovated school house was secluded…there was no one else around
and once we turned the car off…you couldn’t hear a sound.
Until, that is, our eyes and ears adjusted…and we both shared a smile
as the animals in the country said…welcome…come and stay a while.
So we sat out in the school yard…in the disappearing day
totally aware of the sights and sounds around us now on display.
Birds singing in the trees surrounding us…everywhere we glanced
joining in a wondrous harmony…while the dandelions all. danced.
A robin sitting on her nest…took time out to tweet…
Rabbits hopped over to listen…and grab a bite to eat
A rooster, a woodpecker and a frog…not to be outdone…
joined in with their distinctive sounds…adding to the fun
The lilacs were in bloom…their aroma our noses kissed….
in flew a hummingbird moth…whose bloom she couldn’t resist.
A cool breeze waltzed across the yard…and as the dandelion seedlings flew
we closed our eyes, made a wish and I wondered…what the Earth was wishing too.
Then gradually…as if in partnership with the setting the sun….
the sounds began to fade away…slowly…one by one.
As the animals of the day found their beds in the fading light
the serenade continued…as the crickets would sing us through the night.
And so we sat there in the darkness…it was not yet time to go…
we waited and weren’t disappointed as the stars put on a show.
Neither of us dreamed that night…we slept deeply and soundly instead…
realizing we had already experienced a dream..long before we went to bed.
Ditsy moment, wow!
This takes me back a few years
I think I was aged about twelve
It left my father in tears
It was on a summers morning
I was sound asleep in bed
Subconsciously I heard my father shout
And throw something at my head
"Hey James get up,
Your going to be late for school"
I sat up straight in bed
Hurrying not to break the rules
Quickly I got dressed
As I rushed for a bite to eat
It's then that I noticed my father
Crying in his seat
His tears turned to laughter
As he struggles to calmly say
"I'm sorry my son I just couldn't resist
In fact it's really Saturday"
Looking back at that time
Today it's still funny to me
But you really had to see
Me sitting up as stiff as a tree