An Avid Pupil of "Mott the Hoople"
A Rocker from the Start
My Soul would Fear no "Megadeth"
But Lost my Heart to "Heart"
I'd never Plant the "Plants"
Or Turn the Page on "Pages"
Till I Cross the River "Styx"
I'll Rock the "Rock of Ageless"
The snake and the Rat
Saturday night Deep the light minds of the night flow
In the pines of trees
In tales of make believe
The funk is in the trunk
Given up on a pseudo memory
Takes a woman to make something beautiful
You cant do it Trump
Change my life before life changes it for me
Freedom's prison
Pirates wont go to church
Can't quit euphoria Can't quit dope
Blind to that fight Friends will make you see
Its that look
Gods celestial dreams
My motive vation won't let me sleep
When I see
A dropout valley
The tops on tree
Collapsing spirits
Strap on to me
Soaring over
See where it all begins
Those 3 letters
Mott gives to us
The cat on the hook
The hook on a rat The king of rat
Is Ra with a T
Silly face looking at me
The window peine
Sitting as
An a embodied likened of real
Looking through this classless tease
A window of sleeze
The cat never left
You cant touch me
I am the real deal
The meow cow
Programmed to be nice
Soon to take over the world
Meow
Tall Her Eminence stood, calling my name,
My first-grade teacher of notable fame,
Who had taught most all my kin years before,
Now she was summoning me to her court.
She was judge and jury, penalized fast,
Any wrongdoing or mischief in her class,
No one could counsel me in my disgrace,
She was the defense too, for goodness sake.
I had committed a horrendous crime,
Someone’s stomach had felt my fist big time,
Now this tiny hoodlum was called to pay,
For what he had done at recess that day.
As I slowly approached, a friend of mine
Whispered, “say you’re sorrow, might work this time,”
As I stood before the bench for judgement,
I said those words, vowing I would repent.
Reprimanded, I quickly retreated,
Glad my life had be spared and not deleted,
Learned great lesson about grace extended,
On which I routinely contemplated.
Strange how such events look in retrospect,
People like her, I will never forget,
Those who taught me to behave as I ought,
As that first-grade teacher of mine, Miss Mott.
She came up with a weird plot
To tie all his undies in a knot
He shouts out, you jerk
When her plan didn’t work
He walks out wearing a mott
Lucretia Mott
The meeker sex, she was not!
At the convention in Seneca Falls
Showed men aren't the only ones with balls!
1/26/19
For Educate Me with Humor contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
date: Feb 15, 2017
Always the same little hash joint.
For lunch, the identical dish -
in Kremzer's, on Mott and Delancey,
potatoes and yiddisher fish.
His real name was Julius Henry,
but "Groucho" is how he was known.
His whim was to lunch in the corner,
unsmiling, unnoticed, alone.
So in comes a true-born impresser,
a back-slapping man about town.
He's towing some Princeton professor,
and eyeballs the vaudeville clown.
Finagling faux introductions,
the forte of showbusiness sharks:
he'll astonish the ecrivain manque ...
"I'll get you an entree with Marx!"
He gives it the big how's-it-going,
the Princeton prick shuffles his feet.
But Groucho, unseeing, unknowing,
uncaring, continues to eat.
"This man wrote 'The Vanderbilts', damn it!"
(incipient panic attack).
Without looking up, answers Groucho,
"The Vanderbilts - did they write back?"
"Ana"
Ana tells me how to feel.
Ana tells me what to wear.
Ana is the dark in me;
the cross I have to bear.
She fills my days and haunts my nights.
She always wins no matter how hard I fight.
I hate her, but I love her too.
I know I shouldn't, but I do.
Ana controls my thoughts; my actions too.
Ana yells, she screams, until I put down the food.
Ana does not quit even when she's won.
Ana will not be silenced until the job is done.
She is a parasite who feasts as I starve.
She takes all I have without guilt.
She only dies when I have no more to give.
She fades only as I wilt.
~Serena Mott
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