Back then, time ticked loudly,
clocks ran faster than chipmunks.
Young bones were fueled by green grenades,
I needed speedbumps for my brain.
Mother said that If I lived to be a man
I would be all strewn about
like a crow-pecked scarecrow.
Eventually I discovered
a way to give words a meaning
outside of the hide-bound and buckram dictionary.
Naturally I had to surrender some grammatical logic
for a more fanciful argot.
It was only then that my pipsqueak prattle
had the effrontery to call itself ‘poetry.’
Now in n my grizzly elder state,
I still remain a rare bird,
ever bamboozled by age-worn chalk-talk,
or any jargon
that refuses to jump out of its own skin.
Categories:
pipsqueak, poetry,
Form: Free verse
A little pipsqueak
works in Atlantic City
at roulette tables
Categories:
pipsqueak, games, work,
Form: Senryu
Like all things related to screwballs
and misfits
I was born looking for a word
inside a clock.
Back then, time ticked loudly,
clocks ran faster than chipmunks.
Young bones were fueled by green grenades
plucked from low-hanging life-lines.
I needed words to save the world,
I needed a clock-case to store them in,
I needed speedbumps for my brain.
Mother said that If I lived to be a man
I would be all strewn about
like a crow-pecked scarecrow.
Eventually I discovered
a way to make words bespoke,
to give them meaning
outside of the hide-bound
and buckram dictionary.
Naturally I had to invent my own time-machine,
and had to surrender to a fanciful argot.
For a long while, only blithe revenants
and their little helpers
could read my tenuous tidings.
It was only when my pipsqueak prattle
had the effrontery to call itself ‘poetry’
that some said sadly
that I may be ever so slightly explicable.
Alas mother was right, there is only the clock,
and it runs on mechanical words,
and so I remain a rare bird
bamboozled by age-worn chalk-talk,
a jargon that refuses
to jump out of its own skin.
Categories:
pipsqueak, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Pretending the roman’a clef is fake
We portrayed bits of truth in every take
Director and author got into spiff
Author threw up his hands and said “what if”?
Protagonist was not camouflaged well
We knew him for sure. A child could tell.
Leading lady actress refused to speak
To our leading man, a little pipsqueak.
Tempers on set were climbing and popping
Angry voices with no signs of stopping
This roman a’ clef is fake, someone cried.
This is not the truth. The author has lied.
Protagonist outed by all who know
By everyone there and now also you
Categories:
pipsqueak, 10th grade,
Form: Sonnet
Some people’s bark
is worse than their bite
Most of their heavy big talk
sounds like
small pipsqueak speech that’s really light
They got a habit of making themselves
more than what they truly are
They got a resume that’s looks worse than
a twice lemon squeezed used car
Take them at their word ...
as is, with a grain of salt
Every promise that you heard
is only show biz
Ain’t nothing ever their fault
They got a carny bark
worse than an old hound dog bite
They make a lot of blustery boasts,
but they ain’t got much street fight
Yet, there’s one thing they most certainly are:
they’re worse than a Freddy Kruger nightmare
So don’t let them get into your dreams too far,
you don’t wanna get bitten by a bad news bear
Categories:
pipsqueak, people, truth, wisdom, word
Form: Light Verse
Alert o! Foodie stuff
Thy presence now I greet
I endure thy slow pace
I prithee saliver I taste.
Thy plains is why I cough
Coughs of hunger.
Will try to strangle me thus.
My struggle for patience.
My Google of pipsqueak
Would kitchen pip
Hunger republic
There I am
In the kitchen pip
Equality of ingredients
Will surely invite rodents.
No racism does insist at pot
I waited I know am prudent.
Hunger republic
Alas! The warm embrace
My stomach will itself brace.
My utensils had in anticipation gazed.
Oh my wait goest not
to waste.
Categories:
pipsqueak, adventure,
Form: Verse
ON THE TOUR BUS IN SAN MAR-ANDORRA-STEIN
“We are older than your George Washington;
We have the tallest fields of cotton
West of the Volga; and our castles are small
But all guaranteed to enthrall.......”
It appears this swing-a-cat country
With its pipsqueak army
Of skirt-swinging, fur-slippered,
Medieval-style soldiers carrying a halbard
Has a National Income less, if you please,
Than most big western companies.
Oil comes not in a pipelines, but a tube’ll do
(Costing many hundreds of roubles too.)
“McDonalds came here five years ago -
Their first restaurant east of the Po.
KFC will be coming next year -
It will be a national holiday here......”
I climb wearily back aboard
Our tour bus here abroad.
I don’t wish to seem quirky
But I’d rather be home in Albuquerque.
.....................................................................................
Note
Verses in quotes are the tour guide voice. Other verses are the tourist’s
thoughts.
Categories:
pipsqueak, holiday, humorous, , western,
Form: Couplet
I had to wait in a line for a urinal one day.
This was during a home game in May.
In front of me was an example of a pipsqueak.
This little guy looked very worthless and weak.
What he did would seem very peculiar.
He voided enough urine to fill Lake Superior.
Standing behind this runt was no fun.
I wondered when this guy’s urinating would be done.
Categories:
pipsqueak, adventure, time,
Form: Rhyme
There was a naughty girl.
And a naughty girl was she.
For nothing would she do
but try to stop the sea.
She’d push it with her hands.
She’d stomp it with her feet.
She scream down the pulling moon.
Kick sand castles in retreat.
The was a naughty girl.
Who railed at her mother.
Often this feisty pipsqueak
would even pop her brother.
She’d take the teachers all to task.
She’d give the priest a sermon.
She’d back the bullies down the street.
They’d see who would be learnin’
It seems, she wasn’t naughty.
It seems, she was just free,
free in all the broadest sense
is what she wished to be!
Categories:
pipsqueak, adventure, funny, introspection
Form: Bio