Long Think again Poems
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Last Christmas I made ten plum pies
To donate to poor homeless guys
But my kids ate them all
You should have heard me bawl
Bed early, there’s no compromise!
The next morning they all had sore tums
A result of eating all those plums
With green faces and sad eyes
I made THEM bake some more pies
They would not even touch the pie crumbs!
They helped carry the pies to the poor
We gave them in at the shelter door
When they saw the poor men
They will now think again
Of eating all the pies from mom's store
FICTION POEM
Punny holiday pies contest
Sponsored by Michelle Faulkner
11/16/18
In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away
Quote from Berowne in "As You Like It"
"And I, forsooth, in love!". Now Shakespeare speaking with his good friend Richard Burbage.....
I must tell you forsooth
of my midsummer dream
a witch conjures bluetooth
her thoughts an air stream
oh crucify me not
t'is just a fantasy
and a wonderous plot
for some more alchemy
my very dear Burbage
this bluetooth will be king
Lear is merely garbage
when the airwaves can sing
now what madness is this
my dear friend, think again
to an ear no such kiss
of an unseen refrain
t'was an enticing thought
but I must beg of you
the notion is but naught
to taming of the shrew
ah well Burbage old friend
your counsel I so respect
thoughts of bluetooth I will end
my thanks for your connect
a pastoral piece (free verse)
He works hard to write of the evils of sinning.
then sneaks home with Playboy to read after supper.
He preaches wrong habits week in and week out but
those same habits are alright when his sun goes down.
He's split between knowing his tight from his loose;
and has yet to distinquish his white from his black
A very dull clerk runs his office in daytime
but at night, he finds her quite bright on a barstool.
Nightly x-ratings range in sight on his TV,
knowing a penchant to keep some things hidden,
Can he learn to reconcile his night and his day?
Will he ever settle what's light and what's dark?
When fear turns to flight will he think he's won?
When his bark comes to bite him, will he think again?
2
A Clerk's Lament
A Clerk's Lament to the question “nine percent sales tax?”
“I'm just 22 and I simply don't care.
What's the point?
I cannot change anything and going nowhere.”
“That'll be one hundred and twenty-three, with change.”
The lessons taught by a Socialist is the individual's voice is lost to the masses,
that inflation comes like an economic abortion when everyone plays now,
and that the only prevailing message is dictated by a fascist.
by Martin Braun
December 29, 2023
Credit of what was taught by a clerk from the parts department of an auto dealership in Sonoma County, California. She hates her own generation.
Why is this... and who poisoned the well?
"All a man really wants, is a girl who looks good in a bikini."
- Jack Freestone
Bikini Betty's Beef
A randy surfer from Malibu Crest
Untied the bikini top off of Celest
You’re my Betty let’s hang loose
As he tried for her caboose
Celest slapped his hand away from her breast
Aloha Barney, this isn't your turf
A lecher you are who can’t even surf
Damn men with no brains, think again
Bet you’ve never even hung ten
I’m not your Betty, uncool stupid Smurph
by I Am Anaya
As striking as a Malibu Barbie doll
Gals in bikinis I love, summer and fall
But I'm classy and kind
And so drawn to their mind
That they need not wear a bikini at all
by Robert Gorelick
I’m a southpaw,
one of those left-handed,
upside down,
have to curl my arm to write,
backwards individuals,
liv’in-the-left-life
in a right-handed world.
Think It’s easy, e.g.,
being a leftie?
Think again...
we’re out of place at dinners,
have to master backwards scissors,
built specifically for righties and
we are forced to learn everything, in reverse.
We wear permanent spiral wire imprints
on our left arm from trying to pen
our feelings into a right-handed
spiral-bound notebook.
One day, I decided to break the rules
and now all of my journals are written
back-to-front, blowing busybody minds.
Forget writing calligraphy,
a left-handed, oblique set of pen nibs
costs twice what the right-handed ones do
and they are about as elusive as garden gnomes;
what, you don’t believe me?
Try to find a set, I dare ya!
I’ll bet there’s not a store in your town
that stocks them, even though lefties
exist in huge numbers.
I spent 20 years trying to do calligraphy
with a right-handed, oblique pen;
(thank God for the web or
I’d never have found a set.)
In parochial school,
the nuns forced me to
turn my paper to the right;
now I am a half ambidextrous leftie.
This did not set well with my Mother
who wanted me to be the individual that I
was born to be...a leftie.
So, I turn my paper to the right, alright,
curl my arm into a question mark and
write upside down.
but , I play a right-handed guitar.
I wrote a poem praising dogs yesterday …and many people agreed
But apparently the cats and birds and frogs weren’t happy.
Who knew they could read!
The frog was first to chime in…saying my poetry made him wince
If you kiss a dog, he said indignantly, will he turn into a prince?
Do dogs kill insects every day so they do not run amok?
Are dogs a symbol of fertility in Egypt or do they bring Japan good luck?
The bird was next to criticize…she asked…does a dog have wings?
Can a dog fly to the top of a tree? Can it glide on the wind…or sing?
Does a dog’s singing help you think of love or beauty and how about romance?
Can a dog help control mosquitos…or pollinate some plants?
Finally a cat phoned me…isn’t it just like a cat to call.
She was angry we had the nerve to compare a cat to a dog at all!
“Cat’s are much more independent.” she said. I think I heard bitterness in her inflection.
“And although cat’s don’t need it from you humans…we put up with your affection.”
“Cats will never learn a silly trick…the kind that dogs are taught…
If you think that dogs are smarter than cats…think again…they’re not!”
After listening to their arguments
(No more animals contact me…please!)
I understand all animals…have their own specialties…
And I end this poem a different person
who understands every animal…every cat and bird and frog
should be proud of their accomplishments
and stand together with the dog….
The dog is certainly no more special than the rest.
I’m speaking now as a diplomat.
(By the way…in case you’re wondering
It was the cat who made me say that.)
For monotheists,
like Christians
and Jews
and Moslems,
robust relationships with other humans
may feel more sacred
than more troubling secular relationships
with defensive business of predative nature
like mosquitoes
out for personal profit
and voracious rabbits
in the lettuce
and rattling snakes
saying Think Again.
Yet, for polytheists
and panentheists
more organically inclusive sacred integrity
may arrive with gifts to see
and hear beyond anthro-privilege
thinking
and feeling
nondifferences
in co-arising natural solidarity
co-investing spiritual synergy
Ego centering thoughts
within eco-network feelings
for EarthTribal organic need
feeding resonant relationship
cooperatively together,
rather than further divesting
competitively apart.
Nonviolent communication skills
build co-empathic resilience
for restoring trauma preventing EarthJustice
Here and Now
where Ego happily resides
in organic EcoSystems
rebuilding
restoring
reconnecting
religioning sacred global peace.
WAKE UP CALL
Our Navy boom box -
“Reveille Reveille ladies! It’s time to wake up!”
Never laid under covers,
took too long to make the bed.
Talk about a time table!
Never learned to eat so fast -
20 minutes,
no matter if you were first, or last
in line.
Exhilaration in passing written test.
Well think again!
For the roar of tears,
broke my heart,
but I went on
as they went their way,
set back,
hoping for another chance.
80 women in one room,
with different personalities!
I shared a bunk bed,
with a mean one.
One recruit
returned back to barracks -
looped.
Another recruit - snapping
naughty pictures
to send back home.
And we even had a devil worshipper -
Too bad!
I hope she found her sound mind!
Christmas Eve church service
crooned
the Christian Navy hymn:
Eternal Father, strong to save*
Oh hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea! Amen!
Those of us who attended mass -
singing Christmas Carols,
were high
with gladness and laughter.
My bunkmate
merely said
“Shut up”
I wish her well.
Hit the pillow -
next day of reveille
Christmas Day!
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Lyrics by Reverend William Whiting and music by Reverend John B. Dyke