Tittle tittle
make love the middle
love
Which complicated romances
A fool should be
more wiser to see
not be obvious taking chances
It ain't bout rejection
See all I am reflecting
Is complicated
But it real
What I am suggesting
In such complications
Is ah due wash thyme will be
It ain't that complicated
And all you
Debated is where.
You stand with him
Or me
Neilsen got ratings
And what we debating
Is one of those
Who are oh succiees
White shelves and bammas
Your tense reminders
Is bout you and mi
Oboe, oh oboe
The piccolo has played
The piano is tuned
The song is fluted
Bytch why can't you behave
Barking and spicing
In your conversation
The secret recipe gave
Can't trust whores
Sorrstrees who
Chore-9h
Trick
Please behave
What that
Is it jelly
I ain't Mackiovelli
The triple crown has past
Is Preakness playing
We ain't behaving
Gonna give next guy
Sum azz
Needed: unsung heroes, with no need for fame.
Be a piccolo or cymbal in the symphony of rain.
—by poet
Single Drop
jumping into single drop
landing with a belly flop
dancing with all, dousing land
Spring’s crush inside portioned crop
As
The
Band marched
In the big
Parade, music played.
Trombones, drums. piccolo and flutes
Filled the air with happy song as they marched right along.
Marvelous music put everyone in a cheery mood and filled every heart with song.
"the beat banned band"
no piccolo
or sopranino
nor no no not
sopranissimo
the hep and hip
cats where it's at
play subterranean
subcontrabass
Doctor
Sax
seen at and as
part of the scene
saying we'd
be smoking
and are the
ContraBand
Born like a tender infant in nature,
Why do you soon change your nomenclature?
Does stress, like nerves striking the human brain
Craze your equilibrium and cause strain...?
Progress process of an infant proceeds,
Passes each phase fulfilling many needs;
Your growth spurt jumps and leaps abounding hills,
Your change to gusts, gales, and tornado thrills...!
Flute, horn, clarinet, oboe, piccolo,
Dwelling within these, breath of life you blow;
Impulses and cognitions bound, and pound,
Into existential hymns, these resound...!
You nurture the naysay nerve of nature,
Niftily you numb each legislature;
In life's moments of minute mundane gist,
Do you teach me: each gist is its own twist...???
25 April 2023
The Mockingbird sings out his misleading best,
in hopes to attract a dupe with a nest,
where the squatter believes mate’s eggs should belong;
so mimics and jabbers uncountable songs.
Catbirds and Thrashers, related critters,
both grey North Americans sport throats of a twitter.
These gifted Warblers mock tricky bird tunes,
deceiving, deluding as feathered dragoons.
In fairness to balance the Tweeters’ intent,
creating, demanding a need to invent
a song to attract a new or lost mate:
so, a beacon to follow and commitment to state.
EXAMPLE MOCK SONGS
whistling, hey-hey yip pittie-yap
frog gurgle, snarf-chickie claw-saw
peep peeping piccolo-staccato bleat
sniftering chit-chat, yodel-do do
snerling, rat trap, blah tat-tat-tat
crunchy nasal chirp, coo-coo-coo
The orchestra plays the music
that majestically swells
the violins, flute and piccolo
harmoniously scream the song at the top,
and the soul gets fed,
and feels full.
He earned a great reputation as a tough guy actor.
We all remember him as Santino Corleone in "The Godfather".
There was another role considered just as strong:
That was as the late Brian Piccolo in "Brian's Song".
So many other parts in films made him quite famous.
Unfortunately, at 82 years, he has left us.
For many future generations his talent will be seen.
He has become immortal on the big movie screen.
James Caan
(1940-2022)
She rubbed him up the right way,
made him moo like an oboe,
piped him up high like a piccolo.
She was finger food for his body.
Post the passion dance
his heart began to tick like a time-bomb.
His blood tangoed in the dark,
looped the loop like a bi-plane.
Then he went off
in the middle of the night, alone.
Called her in the morning, hands shaking
from after-tremors:
Begged her to do that thing
that she did to him, that move
that made his libido tremolo like a fat lady.
Her voice was cool, distant,
she complained that her bed had collapsed,
that her cat was clinging to the ceiling
and would not come down,
so he could just keep
his 'big bang' to himself.
Later he went nuclear.
Wind whistling through the trees
Reminds me of the tiny piccolo,
High-pitched obbligatos, ranging free
Wind whistling through the trees, blow
The subtle sounds of spring’s arrival.
Wavering tremolo, shimmering limbs
Marked by winter storms for survival,
Voices of ten-thousand sacred hymns
Humming like soft Gregorian chants,
Lingering briefly in the crown’s apse
To gather all its sacred sycophants,
Trembling in rapt reverence, perhaps,
Until the breathy calm reverberates
And moves beyond the sycamore
While I pause alone to contemplate
The crystalline tones, wanting more.
Written March 8, 2022
I knew I was going to overschedule myself
It was as sure as the piccolo played by an elf
Still I promised, too many I would help, which is silly I know.
Painting myself into a corner, with nowhere to go.
Perky pink python plays a piccolo
Perforated opossum practicing as pro
Pretty prancing porcupine poke Pinocchio
Pronunciation phrases performed in pleasing prose.
when
i
listen to
the
voice
within
your heart
still
i
hear
the sweet sound of the piccolo
From the Bronx in New York, he certainly went far.
In television and movies, this man became a star.
There were so many played characters we got to know.
Jim was "Mississippi" opposite John Wayne in "El Dorado"
In "Brian's Song", he was the late Bears fullback Brian Piccolo.
In "The Godfather", James was Vito Corleone's son Santino.
About this storied actor's roles, there is so much more to say.
At the age of eighty, James Caan is still going strong today.
I thank both imdb.com and wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
I’m just a silly sprite child born of the ocean clan
skipping along a sunbeam to catch the colors of light
as the sky plays his sweet chords of sunsets dream song
I hear the yellow trilling of flutes first notes that begin
when the piccolo peeps behind the pot-bellied clouds
Stirring melons oboe sounds all around eggplant’s cello
hues of rumbling clouds where the drums thump
I watch cymbals of highlights start to vibrate overhead
outline the billowing puffs of cumulus white
then down I slide on a guitar rift onto a rainbow smile
soulful classics played each night of endless vibrant verse
like a musician’s open mike of colors in the sky to celebrate
finally, I ride the wind back to the shore’s center stage
to hear the final melody pluck my heart strings
I play along with the pink notes of a raspberry infused jam
until the trumpet leads hot vibes they’re off to explore
and angels sing of love and light to weep for our souls
as the ebony keys of night take over this heavenly sight
to softy show the way to twilights final curtain call
I climb the stars to find my bed inside the dreams of lullaby’s
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