Good evening, sir, my name is Alice.
A man of peculiar predilections,
Lewis Carroll, made me, not from malice.
Rather, more so, from his affections.
A pen name for a man, pedagogic,
Charles Dodgson was the given name
of this Oxford professor of sound logic.
To me, he's Lewis Carroll, just the same.
If my creator made another choice,
and threw me tumbling down another hole,
and hearing not a rabbit's nervous voice,
you'd see a wormhole swallow me whole.
To a wormhole of logical conundrums,
let us take a wild, but confusing trip.
Well, are you ready, hear the roll of drums?
Put your thinking cap on. I'll let 'er rip!
Poets are illogical and write of Luna.
Nobody who eats tuna also plays whist.
Illogical people also eat tuna.
My gist? Do poets who play whist, exist?
While you are considering that my friend,
I'll go to my place in that charming book,
where Mister Carroll ensured my life won't end.
If you want to see me, come take a look.
he was hanging from the charcoal rafters
doing push-ups thinking cap dangling loosely
by his side like a detached trouser stripe
time for emotions and mindful assonance
for when reason fails feelings surpass
the limbo of a lost soul yet to be found
Crabby Appleton Got His
Way Again!
There Was Nothing
I Could Do Without
My Thinking Cap.
-Gray Squirrel
05-24-2025
With my thinking cap on
sometimes too tight
restricting thoughts
or words to write.
Inside my head
a jumbled mess
frustration reins
I must confess.
The words must rhyme
or maybe not
a stitch in time
solutions sought.
Paper drafts
lay everywhere
of idea's cast off
for which I did not care.
Much time is given
for words just right
a poem well written
is now in sight.
The stage is set
time to prepare
with words arranged
I now can share.
In a bit of a funk
I sat down and thunk
Of a means to elicit a smile,
‘Til the old thinking cap
Sent a flash that said, “Tap!”
Which I haven’t performed in a while.
So I dug out my shoes
And wood board that I use,
Found a video there on the screen,
Then I followed the steps
Which the teacher first preps
‘Til at last I could do the routine.
With the music at last,
Just a wee bit too fast,
I was able to tap out the dance
And it lifted my mood
Though my efforts, if viewed,
Would cause looks I’d describe as askance.
I wore my thoughts on my head like a ball cap today
Ready to take off and disregard
or to turn around, tilted in the opposite direction
Easy to grab at, to throw away, to steal,
to sneakily hide a lost trinket underneath.
I am unbalanced like a scale
trying to measure dancers
as they prance about unwavering to any schedule or song.
I am a thrash of discombobulated noises and symphonies,
never harmonizing quite right but still quite beautifully
Imperfect.
I wore my heart in my hair today, let it ruffle in the wind
allowed the speed of an old beat up car roar its engines
like it was reliving her glory days
and I was alive again.
I hung my past up on the clotheslines in my backyard to dry out,
but it rained and that seems to be the story of my life.
At the end of the day
my thoughts are all but worn out completely
ready to be chucked away like a sweat drenched Sunday thinking cap.
If tonight will be the night that I will fall for you
I would hope that you would feel the same
otherwise- well that's just lame
maybe.... just maybe you might like me too
You're constantly on my mind
Like a pirate plotting out his treasure map
It's hard to measure, he must put on his thinking cap
Are you his treasure? Someone like you is hard to find
How is it that you're my type?
Standing there tall and proud with your brown eyes being all funny
You're giving me butterflies in my tummy
If my emotions were a song I'd gladly get on the mike
Except, I wouldn't dare tell you any of this
I know you'd go, you'd be the one thing I'd miss
You can track your sleep
With your watch’s app
So each toss and turn
Gets a little zap.
Still, though stats may prove
That you slept like crap,
You must know yourself,
Since your brain will map
All the signals sent
To your thinking cap,
Which will thus conclude -
Hey! You need a nap!
I'm a med student, one day, I pray, an M.D,
learning about diseases from Brucella to T.B.
Prescribing medication much stronger than O.T.C,
baffling with new technology, specialised C.T.
For each patient I take their name, D.O.B and I.D,
then ask them why they're here, their personal I.C.E.
Do a health check, listen to their chest, take their B.P,
put my thinking cap on and consider, is it H.F or C.H.D?
The patients always ask 'How will it affect I?'
and contemplate the big question, the real reason Y?
But hopefully their symptoms will leave A.S.A.P,
and one day get a letter saying they're in the A.C.
Date: 03/24/2021
Contest: Acronyms in Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
On an as is where is basis, we see
Born into form, power to manifest
Don thinking cap, conjuring misery
Scorn the norm, as one-upmanship persists
Feeling incomplete, we choose surrender
Bringing head and heart into alignment
Standing erect, beholding Gods wonder
Purring bliss rapture, tranquil contentment
23-February-2021
Abner;
So beautiful like a sitting doll
How sweet your smile
That can go thousand miles
You are a joy that one can admire
Don’t let that growing desire
Flush like a dying lion
Be that beautiful apron
That one can be proud to put on
One day you won’t be this small
You will grow up to be a fine man
Grow up with confidence
Back your bags for school now
Make good friends
Read,Write,and learn a lot
Always remember to put
Your thinking cap and suit on
Read your marks and words
Be there for yourself
Live like a great king
And thank me later!
poem by Taimee Catakaw
Note:This is a lovely poem I wrote for my cousin Abner for his birthday which is April. Happy birthday cousin.
For those who pay our taxes
We should be a little peeved
To discover how much larceny
Our leader has achieved.
Yes, his so-called 4-year “audit”
Kept the truth from its release,
In addition to the many palms
He surely had to grease.
Now The New York Times gained access.
It’s all there; no need for clues
And no one but those deluded
Would believe it’s just “fake news.”
To each voter undecided:
Please put on your thinking cap.
Can you vote for a cheater who also
Thinks each taxpayer’s merely a sap?
Don't know why
T'wasn't thought of before
When I realized it
I was totally floored
I'm sure you must know
What I'm referring to
Not the meaning of life
Or why oceans are blue
Put your thinking cap on
I'll give you a clue
To do with some caramel
It's making me drool
It's made by Cadbury's
Called a Caramilk bar
I'm sure you've had one
The yummiest by far
Don't know their secret
Like magic methinks
Some spying if I try
Could land in the clink
Guess it's a puzzle
We'll take to our grave
Come back with the answer
Coz ghosts misbehave
They can spy on things
Without being seen
Then the secret will out
That'll be kinda keen
Then old Mother Earth
Will no longer ponder
We'll all catch our breath
At last know the answer
Come hither, thine little Covid face
Puddin’, puddin’, all o'er the place
‘Er thou leapeth, looketh!
‘Er thou jumpeth, deepeth
Verily, verily, weeping weeper,
Look before thou leapeth!
O’ thou dearly beloved Burns
Scotland’s glory
Cheater, cheater, Haggis eater!
Had a wife and couldn’t beater
Stopping by thy Haggis wood
Without a frosty heater.
Jump, jump, jump I say
In thy brine, belly up
Bottom, bottom, bottom shine
Scrub-a-dub-dub
Thy poetry tub,
Darling mine!
Soup a contest,
Thou shall not stray
O' thee and thine alphabet poop
Shall never,
Nor so wickedly ever
Go so far astray!
Weary traveler, eerie ace
Stop and rest thy weary face
No disgrace, 34th place
Win it now
Thy blue-ribbon best
And lose the human race!
Now, say goodnight, crap
Turn on thy vacant stare
Turn off thy thinking cap
Twinkle, twinkle little star
Never stray, never far
From thy happy lap!
When pondering the evils of Covid 19
Does anyone wonder about the number of last century?
We move so fast
The great USA with world class
Give us your tired your poor the lady inscribed
Our country is paved with gold and that was no lie
Written word was replaced with audio
And a screen having visuals that were naughty o
There once was a buggy with a horse
That disappeared when the engine was a perfect source
Soon we took flight
When Wilbur and Orville figured it out just right
This sparked imagination
And going into the space was the new world passion
Today when we were dealing with reality
Covid 19 quietly was doing the tally
A bug looking for a fight
Wiped everything out that was in sight
People have died others cried
When they have been trapped inside
America needs to put on its thinking cap
As it takes that long Covid 19 work at home nap
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