Long With a grain of salt Poems
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Ricky Nelson, T-shirt, and khaki pants,
Four a.m. check-in, big wigs are my job,
With a grain of salt, 'it's my life I snub,
A chosen degree, and the good lord grants,
He asked what type of room would I give them,
Wife had a t-shirt that dropped to her knees,
"The Bell Tower, our bridal suite, sign please,"
His band doubled-up, as a rule of thumb,
I would learn a year later, they broke up,
At the time, they both were very charming,
And she's sister to actor Mark Harmon,
By the way, that suite was 1k a pop!
Rick and his band would die in a plane crash, (1985)
And his wife of that time died in New Mex. (2018)
Date: 08/26/2019
Tongue Tied in Clichés: A Blessing in Disguise
A blessing in disguise,
a double-edged sword—
a far cry from peace,
yet all in all,
at the drop of a hat
we reach for a ballpark figure,
beat around the bush,
break new ground,
burn the midnight oil.
By the book we cut to the chase,
play devil’s advocate,
fill the void with food for thought,
start from scratch,
then get cold feet.
Give the green light,
go down in flames,
hit the nail on the head,
find ourselves in over our head,
jump on the bandwagon,
keep something at bay,
leave no stone unturned.
Out of our depth,
past the point of no return,
we read between the lines,
take it with a grain of salt,
see only the tip of the iceberg—
until at last we throw in the towel.
One thing about love
That I don't understand
Is how it does what it does
Without making special plans
How it comes along
Shows up at first sight
Or arrives quite slowly
Taking its own sweet time
One thing about love
Is it's high in demand
And if it ever does get lost
It can be found again
Sometimes starts off easy
As a simple thought
Or leaves just as easy on a cold North wind
Not counting out the cost
One thing about love
Is it's learned how to bend
Through all the mistakes and brakes it's made
That it's had to live
Love can be frugal
In the feelings that it likes
Sometimes can be easy to read
Most times harder to find
One thing about love
It knows how to make amends
Whether as a lover
Or a best friend
Love takes it all with a grain of salt
Adding to life it's spices
Once love is out of the bag
It's really hard to hide it
A man, 20 years of age, another man, 40 years of age
The young man in his inexperience asks the 40 year old man
"You've lived twice my life, whats your advice?"
The older man pauses
Reflecting on his own life, in hindsight..
He says:
It is said by many
The best teacher is experience
This statement is true, but experience
Does not equate to intelligence, or intellect
As both do not equate to experience
With every word from spoken by a man in his youth
It is received by the senior with a grain of salt.
Though in reality, they are both adults
What distinguishes a person whos lived longer?
Is years of learning beneficial if they accomplish little?
A decade spent listless watching days blend together
Carrys more wisdom, more growth than 5 years of struggle?
To believe this I refuse.
Adults of seniority, arent always mature
Bickering, arguing with each other,
Talking over the other
Neither letting either get one word in edgewise
Their bodies mature, years experienced
Yet arrested development has left them
Adult children
The fresh face child who endures struggle
And is given responsibility,
Experiences his growth as man
A man who never has had to struggle and grow
Is stuck in his adolescence,
Form:
Most everything written
(and learned ya in school)
Yukon coon sitter, (and bet
your bottom dollar) tibia bunch
of contrived information
all details bu...bu...bull...low knee
within this poetic missive
after spending a lifetime crunch
ching numbers, the following
singularly just my hunch,
but despite minuscule
approximate i.e. kid size lunch
meal, (sans two clenched fists,
and weighing about 1.5 kilograms),
not much to munch,
yet if smacked in the kisser
by a pugilist visited
square in the jaw deadly (Judy hush
hiss) sucker punch
whereby the unlucky
recipient may see "unlucky stars"
after brows severely scrunched,
thee above poppycock, and potentially
"FAKE" though (Ripley deed lee)
believe able to ye,
nonetheless behooves me
to segue-way (by Segway) to pre
sent a "TRUE" revelation see
(gnome hatter, aye
cheese silly contradict
mice elf alias Stuart Little) prithee
please just accept what I write
with a grain of salt
(from the Sultan Sea),
cuz yawl do yarself grave
injury and lodge a gree
vance against this harmless
right ham handed cree
chore from the outer limits
of the twilight zone, thus
I STRONGLY ADVISE thee,
NOT to stake eh knee
un mensch chin hubble cogitation,
and figuratively swallow,
hook, conga line
and sinker thine highly suspect re
dunk yule us gobbledygook mee
cully (meekly) reed this
more so asthma
childish entertainment, hence oak key
jist put aside any urgent task
to revel as sigh bee
devil logical syntax
with sum man tricks
playfully wasting yar
precious time free
cully (freakily) inventing outlandish nee
incoherent yawping, towering,
and brutally butchering,
Brooklyn speak (homer over
mayor later mother), she
nearly always... er added
letters "er" at'er the ender
her sentences - er stain?
What will truly make ART great again, is when people return to the critical realization that it is not about quality, it is about expression, and more importantly, JOY. Don’t be too concerned what others say about your work, whether it’s painting or music or writing or woodworking or cooking, etc, if it brings you enjoyment, then do it to your heart’s content!!
Everything we do and say and make and write, is a little piece of us, and should be treated with the deference and appreciation that we give to one another, and no one knows better than WE do, how our intent compares to the result. If you get critique, take it kindly, but with a grain of salt, and the knowledge that others do not see the world the way you do.
EVERYONE on this planet has a special talent, and not all of those talents are the artistic type, but that savvy was given to you to make the most of. Maybe you’re not the “artistic” type, but you ARE talented, I guarantee you, and I also guarantee that endowment you’re blessed with, whatEVER it may be, is something you enjoy, and it brings others joy in the process.
THAT, my friends, along with love, is what life is all about!
It would be nice, you know if you gave me a reason for your visits
Sometimes you pop in so randomly, like an outbreak of a deadly disease
I sometimes wonder where you picked up this boldness
This confidence to barge into someone’s mind without shame
Then remember, that it is I, master of hoarding that once let you in
I have kept your memory for so long, you need only twist before resurfacing
I have kept tabs on your whys and hows that I know you, a familiar face
I may forget your why’s because truly, you have no reason why
But your hows linger in my mind like muscle memory
I see you creep in with dirty clothes,
Let the room lay in eggshells of a mess
Let the late nights of long prayers turn into short nights of “God, please hear the groans of my heart”
I see the way you walk, stealthily, like a thief in the night
The way you smooth talk the suppressed anger and pain
You whisper sweet nothings in my ears
“How worthless could you possibly be?” and my personal favorite “you should’ve died on that first try”
But still, it would be nice, you know, if you gave me a heads up
Of the next time you want to come by, maybe then I’ll be more prepared
I’ll do laundry beforehand
Maybe cook a meal or 5 for days where I can’t stand
Maybe, hear your words and take them with a grain of salt
But who am I kidding?
I will always listen to you and you will never announce your arrival
7/31/22
Can't get time back
Regardless if I tip my hat
Going down a different path
I'll leave it at that
No matter if it's been a rotten day
They always got a lot to say
Then towards god they pray
I go my own way and walk away
I overdo it at times I gotta pay
The process is drawn out or occurs andale`
With a quickness
Spreading like a sickness
Always trying to stick their nose in my business
You've no idea, because for you everyday is Christmas
One wrong move, you write me up and give me tickets
Even though you were the only witness
I don't need anyone's forgiveness
Listen, I want to hear the sound of crickets
Own a home and land with a fence made of pickets
Another stupid verbal assault
Trying to make it seem like I'm all at fault
I take it with a grain of salt
Then continue on, such matters can't cause me to halt
As I travel across the asphalt
At night often drinking liquor with or without Malt
He bluffs and she sucks
All these cheap f***s
So surprised when I speak up
It's been ongoing for more than three months
Most people are shocked when they find out
how bad I am as an electrician.
My wife just found out I replaced our bed
with a trampoline. She hit the ceiling!
I used to think I was indecisive.
But now I’m not so sure.
Light travels faster than sound,
which is the reason that some people appear
bright before you hear them speak.
My therapist says I have a preoccupation
for revenge. We’ll see about that.
A termite walks into the bar and asks,
‘Is the bar tender here?’
I always take life with a grain of salt.
And a slice of lemon. And a shot of tequila.
I don’t suffer from insanity... I enjoy
every minute of it.
The last thing I want to do is hurt you;
but it’s still on my list.
Today a man knocked on my door
and asked for a small donation toward the local
swimming pool. I gave him a glass of water.
I’m reading a book about anti-gravity.
It’s impossible to put down.
‘Doctor, there’s a patient on line two
who says he’s invisible.’‘Well, tell him
I can’t see him right now.
Last night my girlfriend was complaining
that I never listen to her or something like that.
People who take care of chickens
are literally chicken tenders.
What’s a frog’s favourite type of shoes?
Open toad sandals.
Blunt pencils are really pointless.
Two wifi engineers got married.
The reception was fantastic.
One of the cows didn’t produce milk today.
It was udder familiar
If attacked by a mob of clowns
go for the juggler.
The rotation of Earth really makes my day.
Pollen is what happens when flowers
can’t keep it in their plants.
A book fell on my head the other day.
I only have my shelf to blame though.
When the cannibal showed up late to the buffet,
they gave him the cold shoulder.
A blind man walked into a bar… and a table…
and a chair…
How do you make holy water?
You boil the hell out of it.
Fear not the sleeping Llamas (they dream of grass not you)
Fall not into sin (volcanoes would be better)
Save coupons and your soul (in no particular order)
Read books from left to right (the other way leads to confusion)
Use flashlights to find your matches (All light is good)
Move pawn to king knight seven in chess (a queen is at hand on square eight)
Check your spouse for fleas and adulteries (Both are common)
Pet your pets and feed them frequently (sometimes goldfish are hard to stroke)
Forgive them if they forget to swim or your name (They have small brains)
Eat at diners with short names, short menus and shorter memories
Eat at Joe's (the signs and advertisements say so)
Don't walk on the grass or eat it
Don't wake up Llamas (they are serious about sleep and eating greens)
Come to your own conclusions (Leave leaping and jumping to frogs)
Take the wisdom of the list with you with a grain of salt
(The pepper has gone missing)
Keep mysteries in a box (They live better in tight spaces)
Give them room to breath. (They get by with little air)
Don't panic (Panic is for clowns) (Lists are for people who care)