I just won a medal
I wasn’t in a war
I think it’s made of gold
I don’t know what it’s for.
I’m shocked at what it weighs.
They threw me a parade
I got an honorary degree
Jimmy Fallon had me on TV
now everyone recognizes me
My old friends say I’m fickle
by the paparazzi I am heckled
I was notified that it’s ‘taxable’
It seems that it’s quite valuable
I was afraid it might be stolen
so I put it in the Smithsonian.
Now that I’m not wearing it
people have started to forget
now no one buys me drinks
or cares about what I think.
I’m no longer on the Wheaties box
fame was a drug and I’m in detox
The whole thing was bizarre,
should I do ‘Dancing with the Stars’?
or simply let it go - fadeout gracefully?
I think anonymity suits me.
No one asks troll woman her age
She is older than the petrified forest
twice as old as the snow-capped mountains
Savvy, sage, seasoned, Smithsonian-trained
Hard-working too her followers report
Her fawning fans glom onto every word
Embellishing her feats with adjectives of grandeur
She stacks rocks on her head, consuming none of their flattery.
“I should submit it to the Smithsonian Institute it seems”
“ Be careful this could all be in your dreams” By the poet to the poet.
Euphoric stimulation rushing through my mind,
When I read a poem which was quite a find.
It dazzled my mind, I felt the poem’s vibration,
Did this genius come from some Divine inspiration?
Compelled my heart to flutter, breathing quickens.
Who wrote this, could it have been Dickens ?
Remembering, it was I that these words did utter.
Breathing quickens, compelled my heart to flutter.
Am I experiencing poetic inhalation, is this a holy grail?
Gasping for breath with untold fiasco, an effort to exhale.
Imagine, if you possibly can,
The primate called orangutan.
A great many people admire his cuteness;
They don't even seem to mind his hirsuteness.
His arms are too long so his shirts never fit right,
And his legs are so bowed that he scarcely can sit right.
But for honey or figs high up in a tree,
Those long arms are perfect for plucking, you see.
So unless you're a barber or tailor man,
There's no need to pity orangutan.
He's been seen on the news with his latest fad,
He was learning to use an Apple iPad*.
So if you wanna find out what he's gonna do next,
You can friend him on Facebook or send him a text.
*Per the Smithsonian Zoo, Jan. 2013. Obviously, dear readers, this piece was written a few years ago. Don't know why it took so long to make it to the PS site.
lost subterranean city of the Grand Canyon
Fact, legend, Hopi story or cover-up?
In 1909 Arizona Gazette printed the story
A secret underground citadel a mile down
discovered by G E Kinkaid, a renown explorer
also the first white baby born in Idaho
the mysterious cavern was etched out in rock
shaped like the spokes of a wagon wheel
could have held up to fifty-thousand people
a highly evolved civilization, sharp-edged weapons
ornately decorated gold and copper cups
the multitude of mummies turned out to be male only
this could be the oldest archeological find in the USA
tablets were engraved with hieroglyphics
appeared to be a link between Egypt and Arizona
Hopi Indians claim their ancestors lived in such a city
Under the Grand Canyon
Hoax or truth? Smithsonian scientists believed it was true.
It was never exactly pinpointed
for only the African Crowned Eagles knew of the twisting paths
to its misplaced place.
In that crystalline chamber, upon that gold dusted floor
were found much thumbed volumes of all Nietzsche’s
works,
a penguin in a glass bell,
a twig cut from the tree of Life one million years from now'
A windblown leaf but only the wind that blew it.
a silver cuspidor, a ancient helmet made of Pittsburgh steel,
a Neolithic moonshine still,
a copy of the illustrated Karma Sutra,
several debunked words of wisdom from Aristotle,
an Olmec Letter Opener.
and a stuffed tufted rat.
The find has been carefully transported to the Smithsonian
where neuroscientists are trying
to solder together all these missing links.
The NYT has declared these odd finds
to be ‘Russian disinformation,’
but ‘Bokonon’ the mythical poet-sage of the Republic
of Never-Never Land
has blessed each artifact and declared them
to be far too strange not to be absolutely true.
Hope Diamond is worth two hundred millions.
Donated to Smithsonian by one worth billions.
This forty-five carat gem was sent to them by regular mail.
They were lucky the 1958 postal service did not fail.
Smithsonian Folkways Catalogue #709-300-25.
RASTA WEDDING VOWS
Gunna pledge mi soul an body in di spirit uh di trut.
Gunna stan an mek a promise an delivah u da proof.
Mi seh nevah gunna evah turn u loose.
Gunna free u frum di darkniss for to bade u wid a lite.
Usin’ bot mi han tugedda – gunna really do it rite.
Hunny, I’ll lay down mi cloak for u tonite.
Gunna swear mi life’s protection wen I giv mi solemn wurd.
Gunna mean da ting I’m sayin’ wen I set ur hart assured.
Den I kiss ur han an offa u mi sword.
Gunna luv u lek u need it. Gunna luv u lek a tease.
I be holdin’ back mi horses, till u beg me, “pretty please,”
Makin’ all dem sweet mimosa guarantees.
Gunna dally in di tropics. Run mi finger tru ur hair.
Gunna play wid dem intentions in di salty ocean air
As we live di island lifestyle laissez faire.
I once met a lad from the great state of Oregon
As well as I recall his name was Rick Corregon
He lived in a rustic tent
And painted with great intent
But his finest art never made the Smithsonian.
June 13, 2021
choosing to stay was easy for me
riches for me is love from you
very simply put, i would not change a thing
your kisses express the same passion, so no regrets i have
too many people we know take being granted for granted
there are new bodies of water everyday made of tears
other directions can lead one to the wrong connections
the skin of self esteem peels, and the ugly truths surely do reveal
choosing you to love forever was no problem for me
your are my main material find so refined
very simply put, the smithsonian isn't even worthy of the love that you give
the mere sight of you still ascends the boundaries of mind travel in me
no other love will ever compare in this lifetime, so my love for you is one more Heavenly Divine.....
Fifty-one years ago, today, on September 21, 1967, Kindness appeared in the form of Fred McFeely Rogers, with his neighborhood of make-believe. We allowed him to enter our homes and support us in encouraging our children, building in them a strong sense of self and acceptance of others. Parents who took time to share the experience were shown the power of kindness and the beneficial effect it could have on their children's development, both physically and mentally. Fred Rogers received the Presidential Medal of Freedom, 40 honorary degrees, and a Peabody Award, in addition to other honors. The Smithsonian Institution displays one of his trademark sweaters as a "Treasure of American History." Fred Rogers died on February 27, 2003, at the age of 74.
sure as the sun’s warmth
your kindness was felt by all…
you were our neighbor
09/21/2018
Casandra,
She is so sweet and a poet for sure,
Wonderful musician like to endure;
Well trained;
When rained;
For her great beauty no known cure.
James Horn
My biggest regret is that I never
learned how to read music or
type you can probably tell by
now.
Has the Harrisonian been rising?
Is that the name of the museum
like the Smithsonian?
I've got this awesome idea
To write the greatest of poems
It'll start out nice and easy
Then with a BANG make some noise
It will be widely read
In every coffeehouse in town
Soon to catch on like a wildfire
Then #1 with a bullet nation bound
Writing so amazing
It'll astound everyone
Why it might even get hired killers
To turn in their guns
It'll make the strong want to weep
And the weak to stand strong
There will be waves of applause
This poem will have it all going on
They'll beg me to let them use it
In a Presidential speech
Afterwards they'll fly it straight to the conflict
Where it'll bring peace to the Middle East
Finally coming to rest at the Smithsonian
Taking up it's rightful place
They may have to move that old Shuttle
To give my poem plenty of space
But before any of this can happen
Before it rings true, buckaroo
I suppose I should think up something special
And jot down a line, maybe two...
Dental Dream
After death, to whom will I want to bequeath
Each and everyone of my beautiful teeth
And after I just have completed a phone in
Someone said to store them in the Smithsonian.
Had another great idea when I got out of bed
How about showing in dentist office instead
While they will be all shiny and glimmery
And can thank me for having the memory.
Constantly considered and then contemplated
With all of me want them to be incinerated
And every time when you have a dental dream
An alligator was wearing mine floating downstream.
Do they actually have thorns in a dental crown,
And when you scream they have surround sound
For more words looked like I was at a complete loss
When my dentist was angry and became cross.
So if I were to smile while sticking out my tongue
Would I have to be one of those who are among
Some of the dastardly dental chosen few
Who now have teeth which look brand new.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
The actress Farrah Fawcett
In the Smithsonian, her swimsuit they just tossed it
Her poster was the very last sight
I saw in my college dorm room every night
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