You want their
affection
but your words
to disdain
I voted for you
thrice
and would do so
again
But the many
unsold
who vote
with their heart
Abandon you now
as your
ego
cavorts
Assuming
your schtick
is attractive
to all
You strut like
the ‘Emperor’
and naked
befall
Overlooking
the obvious
what the simplest
man knows
To be liked
is a mandate
and lost
— in your show
(Sunday Morning New Shows: February, 2026)
Recall that rib-tickling comic named Dick
Boundlessly, he performed many a schtick.
He could trip over his own feet
and dance never missing a beat.
Me? I just fall on my face - Fiddlesticks!
Clumsy oaf that I am, I get in my way;
sometimes when I move, my feet want to stay.
It's an art to stumble then rise.
I blame my shoes which are queen-size,
rub my head and say, "This just ain't my day!"
Night, drape deep in slumber.
O dream, to nightmare turn?
Multitude, legion, number!
Death, dearth to discern...
Rule of law in wasted land?
Show them, when ye stand.
Orderly, cold countermand?
Break before bed, band.
Young fools making with the schtick?
Candle, burn out quick.
Light both ends and nicker. Wick?
Bone within me, pick.
Wound in heart of warrior?
Stray, become the cur.
Dynamite, how to deter?
Blades and chimes a-whir.
Terrible to live? Oh, yes.
Blossom, O my stress.
Torment, foment thy best guess!
Who would be the less?
Ululation, ugly, meld.
Hound, bay in the street.
O for yearlings on the geld!
Bill, pay self with beat.
Fallow field in autumn?
Rickshaw on the move?
Congregation, sing a hymn!
Inspire to improve...
I catch junk with a stick
Whip it like batter
Make it thick
Set it firm in an oven brick
A sleight-of-hand trick
Flipping a well-rehearsed schtick
Pulling it out of the fire quick
Cool…then plate with a crispy breadstick
Sink your teeth in…taste the kick
A feast of rhyme…a bold remix
Juicy lyrics on a drumstick
You’re an odd lyric
An improvised schtick
Lost in departure
Own drum marcher
Vanishing quick
Said a level-headed young man named Dick
I wish I'd a name that was not so schtick
His mother said, Put it on the shelf,
Your father named you after himself
And, we all know, he was sort of a prick!
Written June 28, 2022
The happiest shoe went on a dancing binge
Sing dance sing dance sing dance kick kick kick!
I had never seen such a shoe with nary a hinge.
What a marvelous sense of humor, what a schtick!
Where did you come from? Other teachers asked.
The teacher wearing them smiled in front of everyone.
They soon forgot the shoes until one of them gasped.
The shoe was clicking and clacking on her desk having fun.
No smiling until Christmas! Someone yelled in a mean ugly way.
The dancing shoes kicked themselves onto a table and began to play.
The new teacher did a twirl and a whirl and the very high fancy kick
She did not care about naysayers, had her own special schtick.
Birthday dog had a high whistle and kick
He could do it with both legs, ever so thick.
He jumps in the air to pick up every stick.
We laugh at his antics and encourage his schtick.
He is our marvelous darling dog, Birthday B Brick!
Never meet your heroes is the old adage
That’s not an issue for me
I have none you see
I find them such fantastic bores
completely unrelatable
rendering me weary
with their straight laced schtick
their vapid displays of virtue
I revere the villains
with a sensitive side
hiding their pain behind a sardonic smile
with whom I can sympathize
Paragons of imperfection
constantly criticized their whole lives
Neglected and dejected
Left to languish in the cold
Disillusioned by the lies they’ve been told
Who have endured their fair share
of suffering and shame
Never winning the game
no matter how hard they try
Starved for love and affection
who have only known rejection
Lonely losers like me
Ignobly ignored and demonized
by those hailing the heroes
who never care to know or question why
he became the bad guy
I have a deep ingrained aspiration--
[Wake each morning in anticipation]
A poem I have written earns first place,
So far, this simply has not been the case.
I follow the rules; I give it my best
Apparently, I just don't pass the test.
I am trying to mimic Dietrich's schtick
My simplistic rhymes are making me sick.
My editing skills are rather severe
The secret to first place is persevere.
Perhaps time will reward me with good luck
Meanwhile I won't give a flying f--k!**
The old saw's right I am eager to say
A broken clock is on time twice a day.
So, I'll continue submitting my verse
And hoping for the best--tenth place or worse!
[NOTE: I have carefully adhered to the 10-syllable line of iambic pentameter
but have embraced poetic license with the rhythm of each line]
[**NOTE: I deeply apologize for the "four-letter" word in the sixth
couplet, but I simply could not resist!]
Written March 19, 2021
for "Rhyming Couplets" contest
sponsored by Janice Canerdy
The train to Boston goes clonkity dong, clonkity ding,
and ever the handy hack Gershwin takes up
the rhythm and makes it sing.
Rhapsodic rhapsodies in jazz mode
stomp among the carriage silverware and glasses,
makes them tink, jitter and chatter
to the shoe shined suits
that doze along to the whitling of whistled tunes.
The moon necks in, illumines a fountain pen
as he, jotting, heels pumping up and down
knees’ a ‘cracking, sketches his syncopated sounds.
It’s coming together except for the molasse’s,
the liquorish stick, added later
with a whisky-wet wail,
then the whole city skyline spoke it up, ears flapped,
as the schtick stuck.
A small combo took to tuxedos, added more chairs
for symphonic fiddlers.
Chronic indigestion is relieved nationwide.
Middle-aged men wear their fedoras more rakishly,
ladies take to the streets in sheer nylon.
Del-eez and dives jive
to the pulse and swing of a scrawny Jewish guy
hammering black notes together
as if he were born in catfish row.
husband’s humor schtick
hanauma bay snorkeling
tosses frozen peas
tropical fish swarm my space
visibility zero
7/23/2020
it's been
so often
done and
did but it
always in
whatever
form is
schtick
listening
to Saint-
Saëns and
asking what
is the score
i've never
heard this
before
you know
the one
which one?
that one
this one?
yes
what?
that one
which one
is this one?
you know
that one
and Abbot
and Costello
live on and
on and on and...
Oh Donald dear, here we are again
Are you indeed the representative of republicans?
Your speeches flow like some comedic schtick
Will the wall be built with adobe brick?
Behind you a following of thousands hearing all you’re not saying
Leaving the rest of us on our knees and fearfully praying.
I'm full of poop I am I am
Tried being serious but don't think I can
Tried every trick
It's not my schtick
Guess I'll continue being a dirty old man
© Jack Ellison 2015
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