IN PRAISE OF NORTHERN LIVIN'

I got a call from my good friend NORTON!
Who discussed the way the winter is shorten (-ed)
Here in the brightly-lit sunshine state
And he had a point he wanted to reiterate.

“you know how I now live here in upper New York,
And at this time of year my truck tires use torque
As I attempt to drive in the deep, deep snow
From my place of work and back to my lovely chateau,

“and though it will be weeks before this snow will melt,
And you don’t GET snow there south of the Bible Belt,
This weekend it’s supposed to be fifty degrees--
At least as far as the weatherman forsees--

“And I want to point out a little thought I just thunk
One that lifted me out of my wintery funk:
When it’s 50 down THERE, you all put on a jacket
While when it’s 50 up HERE we grab the badminton racquet

“And we rush on outdoors into the day bright and shiny,
And we lay in the grass and sit on our hiney
And we pound the neighbour’s door and hammer door knockers
‘cuz it’s warm enough to run ‘round in our knickerbockers!

“So while it may be grand down there in the Florida heat
I find my life up here just perfectly complete.
I’d think myself crazy, and devoid of all reason
If I lived in a place that had only one season!

I like the fall when it turns orange, brown and yellow,
And I like the spring when the ground is mushy as Jell-O.
Of course I like summer, of that you don’t need to be told,
But I should remind you that some of us actually LIKE the cold.

I love to go skiing with long boards on my feet
Zipping down frozen mountains just can’t be beat!
I like to build snowmen and throw hardpack snowballs
And I like to sit by the fire with a copy of McCall’s!*

Of course there’s blizzards and possible frostbite
And sometimes we go seven weeks without sunlight
But at least we don’t get massive hurricanes
And heat that’s so hot it melts down your brains

And our insects are small and not of the size
Where a swarm of them will block out the skies
and fly in your mouth making you wheeze and cough
(and some are so big they could carry small children off!)

I’m not near an ocean where they hang up a purple flag
To warn of “dangerous sea life” that can put’cha in a body bag
After wading through the tall green sea grass
And a jellyfish swims up to sting you on the… foot.

No, I’m miles away from that bright world of Disney
And those other 2 parks owned by a beer company
But I’m doin’ just fine, I do swear,
It’ll be 50, and I’ll be in my underwear.

CAULKING THE CRACKS

I've not written a poem
in 8 1/2 weeks.

that's not like me.

I should correct that...


...Oh, maybe I have.

IN PRAISE OF BEING A GROWNUP

I pulled back the sheet from the bed
and tossed it into the wash

I suddenly remembered back
to our 6 months in a leaking boat
living with my in-laws
and how they HAD to have our bed made
every day
and how much I HATE making beds.

MY parents were the same way
as if a neat, made bed was the only thing
holding Western Civilization together.
...had they lived until 2006
they might have said:
"if you don't make your bed,
you're letting the terrorists win!!"

I'm all grown up now,
I DON'T make my goddamned bed!
I also don't fold my underwear or match my socks.

I take long, hot showers and empty the water heater,
I sleep in the nude
I sometimes drink beer for breakfast
and eat French toast for dinner

I turn out the lights and watch TV in the dark
and sometimes I leave lights on in rooms
where no one is.

I eat Corn Pops and Honeycomb and Sugar Smacks
and sometimes I eat Cool-Whip right out of the tub
with a spoon
and declare THAT a meal worth having

I go outside in the cold without shoes
and wear holes in my socks
and don't replace my shoddy tennis shoes
when the sole begins to come off

I swear sometimes, too, and curse
and take guilty pleasure in crying out
"well, goddamn!"
and
"Oh, Jesus Pumpkin Pie Christ!"
which I first learned from a Stephen King novel

On the whole, being a grownup
ain't all that damned bad.

A SONG FOR SUNDAY

Preacher won't you preach to me,
I need a pint of philosophy.
I'm hurt and thirsty, set me on my way.

Mondays come and Mondays go,
But this one seems to be sort of slow.
Can you tell me sir, when will there come a change?

I'm the one who's last at the table,
I'm the one who never gets the gold.
You're the one who says I'm able,
But you turn your words with lies and fables...
Lies and fables...

---Ellis Paul

POOP!

I awoke today to the smell of poop
it was 4 AM and it knocked me for a loop

my children, a veritiable troupe
had filled thier pants up with poop

I rose from bed and let out a whoop
for the DOG had left a pile of poop!

I yelled "NOW LISTEN HERE, MY FAMILY GROUP!
THIS IS ENTIRELY WAAAY TOO MUCH POOP!"

I put Styx on the CD player (my favorite musical group)
and set about to clean up all this poop

I swished clothing the basketball hoop
of the toilet to remove the big chunks of poop

and though the smell was so bad it made my moustache droop
I knew I had to be rid of all this poop

I used shopping bags like a makeshift scoop
to pick up all that poop

and though it was gross and very goop(y)
I ne'er shunned to clean up the poop(y)

3 years ago at this time
my eldest daughter flew down for a visit

we were driving over the St. John's River
listening to America's Don't Cross the River

"fitting, don't you think?" I asked
as the sparkling water flowed below us

"Why did she have a broken heart?" she asked
making a connection to the little girl of the song

"why, indeed?" I asked back
"what would give YOU a broken heart
and cause you to lie out on your own?"

she looked out at the passing water
feeling the wind in her hair
(a luxury not afforded to her backhome in PA
at this time of year)

"could you play that again?" she asked.
I did
and we sang with gusto

WHEN EVERYTHING WENT DEAD

I discovered yesterday morning that

the DVD player
my computer
my flashlight batteries
my cell phone
the batteries to my
itty-bitty-not-so-shitty-grab-my-titty-ain't-I-witty? booklight

were all dead.

I wondered if that MEANT something or not.

PRACTICING TACITURNITY

yes yes I know I know
I talk too damned much
but I'm in good company

I have 10 radio buttons in my van
none of them play music in the morning
just babbletalk blah-blah-blah

I didn't go to work today
I went to a workshop

when I got there they had an icebreaker.
I fucking HATE icebreakers.
I wanted to practice taciturnity.
I didn't want to get up and ask anyone
if they took out their recycleables to the curb
or visited the Rain Forest
or had an uncle from Bolivia.

I wanted to sit and be still
and say nothing
be a minimalist with my words
still my voice
contribute no sound to the noise of the room.

I found a great deal of inner peace
inside that silence.
I also turned slightly invisible.

DIRTY'S LAUNDRY

when Dirty said that her chosen super power
would be to turn invisible
(and hence be naked most of the time
[which is her preferred way of being])
a vision splended sprang to mind

I spied her from behind
(this time *I* was invisible)
obsessively washing her dishes
in her birthday suit.

I spied no tan lines

I AM AUTUMN PEOPLE

Quoth Ray Bradbury,

"The October country.
That country where it is always turning late in the year.
That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist.
Where noons go quickly,
dusks and twilights linger,
and midnights stay.

That country composed in the main of cellars,
sub-cellars, coal bins, closets, attics
and pantries faced away from the sun.

That country who’s people are Autumn People,
thinking only Autumn thoughts,
who’s people passing at night
on the empty walks sound like rain."

I am Autumn People, born early this month
I feel the thinning of the worlds
between life and death

I delight in the creak of bones
the howl of wind
the flickering orange of candle light
from within a carved pumpkin.

I step forward in the gloaming,
a child of twilight
walking with my own children of twilight
down the silent sidewalk.

We are quiet,
thinking our own Autumn thoughts
faced away from the sun
our footsteps like rain

MORE SPONTANEOUS, ANTIQUE HAIKU

yet another installment from the series of 80 haiku I wrote in 1.5 hours while teaching up North in Cleveland. Some silly, some serious.

I must grade these papers
The pile grows ever higher
Maybe I’ll burn them…


When can I go home?
I am tired of this place.
I want my own bed


Washing the chalkboards
The water soon turns milky
Must go dump bucket


Standards based lessons
They all need five elements,
Anyone know them?


In the math classroom
Students try to stretch their minds
Can you smell the smoke?


I’m teaching English--
My students can’t write at all
How did I get them??


“come to class prepared!
“I do not give out pencils!
Go buy them yourself!”


I find her gorgeous
She is so pretty to me
Though she is so old


Wrinkles on his hands
Shows the history of his life
And the work he’s done


My grandmothers face
Will come to me in my dreams
Though she is long gone

A THEME SONG FOR MONDAY: "IT'S BEEN THE WORST DAY SINCE YESTERDAY"

Today has GARFIELD written all over it. only one thing to do-- sing a few choruses of Flogging Molly:



Well I know, I miss more than hit
With a face that was launched to sink
An’ I seldom feel, the bright relief
It’s been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

If there’s one thing I have said
Is that the dreams I once had, now lay in bed
As the four winds blow, my wits through the door
It’s been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

Fallin’ down to you sweet ground
Where the flowers they bloom
It’s there I’ll be found
Hurry back to me, my wild calling
It’s been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

Though these wounds have seen no wars
Except for the scars I have ignored
And this endless crutch, well it’s never enough
It’s been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

Hell says hello, well it’s time to I should go
To pastures green, that I’ve yet to see
Hurry back to me, my wild calling
It’s been the Worst Day Since Yesterday
It's been the Worst Day Since Yesterday
It's been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

THURSDAY'S CHILD, FRIDAY'S PLANS

sitting on the couch with my wife
and a plate of baked french fries
the gloaming coming on and the room darkening
I remember I'm a Thursday's Child and have "far to go."

Damnit, i've gone far enough already.
to my wife I say, while taking a fry from the blue plate
"I think when the kids grow up
and can take care of themselves
we should become barflies in the Keys."

there is a pause while we dip into ketchup
"we could go on the public dole" says I
"fuck all our education. We'll sleep under piers
get wrinkled from the sun,
like a pair of apple dolls."

she takes a fry, chews silently.
Bob the Builder rides Muck to Farmer Pickles field
to fix something-or-other on TV.

time passes.

"I think Hawaii has nicer beaches", she says.

I agree.

PUSSYWILLOWS & CAT-TAILS

when first I heard "Pussywillows, Cat-tails" by Gordon Lightfoot
I was taken from this place and transported back to the Summer of the Witch.

It was the fall when I was dating Phoenix the witchy-woman
and lived closer to the earth
between the ground and the Goddess

and we went to a Medieval Fayre as the leaves began to turn gold
and we strolled in the electric blue of the afternoon
sunbright but not hot

We walked barefoot and came upon another witchy-woman
selling magic items and I bought a blue crystal sphere from her
carged with her energy; I could feel it vibrate in my hands

We walked, we were amongst like kind, we stared into each other's eyes
there in the woods we felt Home in a way I'd not felt in years.

It all came back when I heard Gordon's dulcet tones
and I wished I could go back for the afternoon to that place
just one more time.

HIATUS

When came the last day of summer
I found I had no more time to write
only time to prepare for students.

Now a fortnight has passed since the beginning of the year.
Instead of working 20 hours of unpaid labor
I think I shall start writing more
instead.

LET ME BE YOUR SONG

Music grows in the rose,
The rock and the rain and the blowin’ snowstorm
Everything seems to sing, everywhere I go
I say 1, 2, play-me-doo,
Let me sound as sweet as you
Play me wide, play me long,
Let me be your song…

Lay me down on the ground
Song comes singin’ from the midnight places
Raise me high in the sky
Song comes driftin’ through
I say 1, 2, play-me-doo,
Let me sound as sweet as you
Play me wide, play me long,
Let me be your song…

Play me high, play me low
Play me where the wind winds blowin’
Play me wide me, play me long, play me for your song
I say 1, 2, play-me-doo,
Let me sound as sweet as you
Play me wide, play me long,
Let me be your song…

---Cantus and the Minstrels (Murray, Brio, Brool and Balsam)
"Fraggle Rock"

SPONTANEOUS ANTIQUE HAIKU: VOL II

the last 2 are some o' my favs...

Teacher inservice
Feel my life slipping away
Can’t wait to go home.


Soda pop and chips
That’s all I have for dinner.
Must go to the store.


Turn off that TV!
Shut down! Read a book instead!
Stretch out with your mind!


You gave me something.
What do I do with this thing?
It confuses me…


The baby grows fast
Swimmer in the secret sea
We must get ready


You are quite pregnant
And you throw up every day
I hope it’s worth it…


I forgot my pills
The little pink one I take
To keep myself calm


I think she is cute
I should say something witty
So that she’s impressed.


What’s that he’s eating?
It’s bright blue and small and square
I’m not sure it’s food.


I should do some work,
Be responsible…
What’s on the TV?

VALENTINE FOR ERNEST MANN

You can't order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the counter, say, "I'll take two"
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.

Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, "Here's my address,
write me a poem," deserves something in reply.
So I'll tell you a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.

Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn't understand why she was crying.
"I thought they had such beautiful eyes."
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he re-invented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding
in the eyes of skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.

Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.
And let me know.

---Naomi Shihab Nye

SPONTANEOUS ANTIQUE HAIKUS: VOL 1

back in 2001 I was teaching English/Language Arts at an urban middle school. We were studying poetry, specifically the haiku. I assigned students to go home and write four haiku for homework. They grumbled like hell and I said it wasn't THAT hard-- I could write 40 haikus over nite. They doubted me, and I penned 4 pages worth of haikus--about 80 in all-- in a little over 2 hours while still at school. 80 haikus are waaaay too much to sift thru in 1 post, so I'll break 'em up for ya. Here's the first session, many are school related:

Soft rains fall tonight
I hear it splash on windows
It lulls me to sleep


Sitting on the roof
I see the bright stars come out
I feel the wind blow


Winter blows cold winds
The blood rises to my face
I soon head indoors


My students are cool
Even though they talk all day.
I hope they’ll all pass…


I hate broccoli!
Their loathsome green flower-heads!
Throw it all away!


See the fuzzy peach.
Soft hair grows from it’s surface
The fruit needs a shave.


Yo’ momma be phat!
I say she be on rye bread!
How can you stand it?


I’m on a diet.
Eating up celery stalks
I dream chocolate.


Sitting in meetings
I feel my butt go numb.
My brain will follow.


Rubrics all around
District gives huge piles of them
All to change next year.

MAD WORLD

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places
Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going no where
Going no where

Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
No expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow
No tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday
Happy birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen
Sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me
No one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me
Look right through me

And I find it kind of funny I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world

---Gary Jules

Donny Darko soundtrack