Poetry of Everything
Photo101: Day Sixteen: Treasure & Close-up
“There is no life before the first cup of coffee in the morning”
Life without Coffee?
It’s getting to be a borderline cliche
Like something so unnerving at play
But out of all the things to loose
If I really had to choose
What ever troubles life may bring
There is this only one thing
There is one thing I cannot do without
Uttered without hesitation or doubt
Not without my Coffee!
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Homage to Gun Roswell, née 27th June, 1965
“All right, it’s worked so far, but we’re not out yet” McCoy
Live Long And Prosper
Born in nineteen sixty-five
Came to this world with a jive
Hips in a sway
First words, Yippie-Ki-Yay
Fifty years later
Still not a life hater
Resistance may be futile
And aging sometimes brutal
“But honey, these ain’t wrinkles”
She says with eyes in twinkle
Smiling with her face in a crinkle
“They’re just laugh lines” and a sign
Of a life lived just fine
“Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity” Charles Mingus
Sitting in My usual Place
I was sitting in my usual place today
Watching the clouds changing shape in many ways
Caught up in nature’s gorgeous display
I almost forgot my own part to play
I finally tore myself away for a moment
And snapped a few for your enjoyment
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“Black as night, sweet as sin” Neil Gaiman
Coffee made me do it!
Today I went off the edge
I didn’t even take a pledge
I pranced around like a Fred Astaire
The others looking with a stare
Laughing out very loud
And feeling extremely proud
An old tune from years ago
Nothing to stop the show
I started singing that tune
Not being any kind of prune
Why this happened you may ask
It wasn’t anything from a flask
Though I have one excuse to acquit
The Coffee made me do it!
“Fool me seven times, shame on you. Fool me eight or more times, shame on me” Amy Futurama
Fool me Once, or a Few more Times
I may look like the fool
But I am actually cool
I may act like a tool
But I got schooled
So don’t be too cruel
And abide by this rule
Fool me once
I will bounce
Fool me twice
Oh, you got spice!
Fool me a few more times
And I will show you in rhymes
How you have to show your dimes
And pay, for your crimes
“I wake up and I see the face of the devil and I ask her, “What time is it?”
And she says, How much time do you want?” Diamanda Galás
The Devil asked for my Little Finger but stole my Whole Hand
You finally sunk onto the level
Where you were ready to deal with the Devil
Cutting the deal might have seemed easy
But what you found out made you queasy
What you didn’t realize when offering one finger
The Devil had hers crossed while your decision was a linger
What you thought was a small and simple deal
Turned out to be much more than a steal
You see, when striking a deal with the Devil
You will be entering at your own peril
To a contract you think you can choose
Much more than you care to loose
So, now that you got what you wanted
Still, you can’t help feeling haunted
Your eyes always checking the stern
Wondering, if and when she will return…
“Do more, complain less”
I need a Different Tune to Sing to
Repeat this mantra and you’ll soon believe it
Turning into a complete little shit
“My head is empty, my head is empty, my head is empty,
completely and abso-freaking-lutely empty”
Not one sensible thought passing through
The mind no longer sharp and clever
The neurons and positrons or what ever
Have turned into some kind of inert goo
Head spinning around like being possessed
Just like Linda Blair in the Exorcist
The thought pattern repeating those same old tunes
Feels like running on mere fumes
Stuck and totally out of luck
Like a sitting duck awaiting the slayer
Or a broken needle on a record player
Not adding any new layers
Complaining more and nothing gets done
Seems the mojo is lost and so is all the fun
It is time to change the needle or the record
Even if it takes a lot of effort
Repeating this mantra and soon you will believe
The best proven remedy to achieve
Is to do more and complain less
And in a new tune singing your way out of this mess
“Why is Monday so far from Friday, and Friday so near to Monday?”
Monday, Bloody Monday
Monday, bloody Monday
It is certainly not my fun day
Still five days until Friday
This could well be my die day
My calendar filled with meetings
No time for eating
Feeling like cheating
When trying to catch a break for peeing
No use in struggle or fighting
Almost worse than being struck by a lightning
Dealing with the disappointment
Because there is no ointment
Another working week has started
From my leisure time I was parted
Doing my best to survive
Just wishing to keep in the drive
Tell me, do I really hate Mondays
Or is it just the illusion of a fading Sunday?
Is that a knife on my back or are you just happy to see me?”
I’ll stab you in the back, if you’ll stab mine
Call it suspicion or plain paranoia
Still not turning my back on ya
Perhaps a lack of trust in a fellow human
But definitely not a friendship in blooming
We come in friendship (shoot to kill)
That kind of kinship, gives you a chill
The pessimist would underline this cliche
And using “trust no one” as a catch phrase
Surely this rant was written in jest
Just something to get off my chest
If there was a lesson to be learnt, then just fine
At least you did not have to read between the lines
” When in Rome, do as the Romans do”
Sisu, Sauna and Koskenkorva (Ode to Finns)
Finns, what a nationality
We have quite the ability
To enjoy ourselves
With life’s simple little things
Sauna, heated to at least eighty degrees
Surely hot enough to melt any cheese
Beating each other with branches of birch
Almost as purifying as absolution in a church
Sisu, the spunk, guts and percistence
We have plenty of through out our existance
Rally drivers, Nokia, Linux and the rest
We only deliver the best
Koskenkorva, pure spirit made out of barley
After drinking, don’t ride your Harley
The Swedes may prefer their Vodka
But for the Finns, it’s pure dogma
We have lakes and forrests in abundance
So please come and join us
For a visit in the green of nature
It won’t leave you denatured
