July 28, 2014
Cocooned in Time, at this inhuman height,
The packaged food tastes neutrally of clay.
We never seem to catch the running day
But travel on in everlasting night . . .
Ode to an awful airline meal
July 27, 2014
The kids are asleep /
We drink white wine together /
Watching the TV
July 25, 2014
I come with no wrapping or pretty pink bows.
I am who I am from my head to my toes.
I tend to get loud when speaking my mind.
Even a little crazy some of the time.
I’m not a size 5 and don’t care to be.
You can be you and I can be me.
I try to stay strong when pain knocks me down.
And the times that I cry is when no ones around.
To error is human or so that’s what they say.
Well tell me who’s perfect any damn way.
Family Friend Poems
July 23, 2014
Tastes like barnyard
I say obviously bad
You say its complex
July 22, 2014
by Ted Akos
A simple line can be
Laced into written words
To have sides, parts
And unforeseen dimensions
And opposing comprehensions
Not to mention Umbrage….
To instigate these thoughts.
Judge them, then,
And make a gamble on
What is behind this preamble.
What? you ask
What is a calabash?
A calabash is so round
It has a hundred sides
Or one, if that’s the case.
Call it pretty
Not poetically astute.
But who’s a poet every day?
What calabash could echo as a hole
The words met out on every occasion
Of a round knobby fruit.
But it’s not a fruit
(Fred would say)
But an addlepated animal
Who’s fuzzy wuzzy tale
Sets off its head.
What rubbish! What confusion!
An abominable intrusion
On this guy (you’ll see)
A calabanic calabash in angelic reverie..
July 20, 2014
Fella goes into his favorite deli where the waiter immediately brings him a bowl of matzo ball soup. The customer signals the waiter to come back.
“Taste the soup!” he commands.
“Why?” inquires the surprised waiter.
“Taste the soup!” comes the reply.
“Max, you’ve been coming in here every day for ten years. There’s never been anything wrong with the soup.”
“Taste the soup!”
“What’s wrong, too much salt–not enough salt?”
“Taste the soup!”
“What, the matzo balls aren’t fluffy enough for you?”
“TASTE THE SOUP!”
The waiter finally agrees, “All right all right, I’ll taste the soup! Where’s the spoon?”
“A-HA!” chortles Max.