Rants Log-in | Search Rants | Account Info

WHENCE…?

We, the human animal, are at once mean and marvelous. Above it all, our curiosity is our cure. As we begin the twelfth year of the new millennium, and as we attend to our seemingly meaningless, quotidian pursuits in Iowa and elsewhere, we continue to challenge the series of frontiers that have mocked us since our inception. Our nature is to study those frontiers and overcome them. That is why, at this moment, we as a species, are aboard twin vehicles seeking to divine the compos ...

P R I O R I T I E S

Football

Academia

Mistreatment of kids

Footfalls

Miscellanea

Careers on the skids

Downfall

All the mania

All get in their bids

Softball

Scattered crania

Then off come the lids

Not tall

No explanea

The school board now rids

They all

In extranea

For some worse than SIDS

Football

Academia

But what of the kids?

LE SCANDALE MURDOCH:

A FEAST FOR THE BARD

Ah, Bard, wouldst thou could be this day in thy merrie olde England!

At Stratford-upon-Avon, thy pen wouldst fly furiously over folios blank, describing a plethora of dramatis personae picked right from the pages of thine own London’s making.

‘Twouldst be no need to send thy mind back to rake the roofs of monarchs of yore, or to Scotland’s highlands in search of some regal whore.

Neither wouldst thou have need for a thane’s dank Denmark dithering, be ...

TOM SKIRTS THE HEDGES

of

INDEPENDENCE

  Ginger, like Jefferson –

The Penman superb of prized parchment –

Tom hedges, too, is astute

(just check out his blog’s content:

www.tommytoms.com

how coincidental, being born on that day,

when, in summer-torrid philly,

they made all that hay!

Beware of that date, though,

When ol’ tom was born;

It was that date, too, when Jefferson and adams embarked upon their last sojourn!

Curtis W. Long

July 2011

HERB LONG REASONS

with his

76 SEASONS

In seventeen hundred and seventy-six,

The numbers game began.

It snowballed and grew, so that now the number sticks –

It bit the Music Man.

He marched along with Seventy-six Trombones,

Cheered on by a big crowd.

They, never having to dodge angry stones,

Could never play too loud.

Remember Union 76 of “oil”?

Its brand has gone away.

Its number, though, no matter how   they may toil,

Will never rub away.

Herb’s one-time connection to this cyphe ...

A PROUD POP’S PREMIUM

Jim, The Pop , is as cool as they come.

He’s thoughtful and incisive –

Maybe not as talkative as some –

His deeds, though, are decisive.

Merely ask his two on-the-track sons,

The basis of this story.

Mom and Pop team as well centered suns;

The boys reflect that glory.

Curtis W.   Long

June 2011

ODE TO MY NIECE FANNIE

The first time I saw Fannie,

She was standing in her crib.

Mom Jennie was her nanny,

She who changed her feeding bib.

But, this wee tyke was screaming

At the top of her loud voice.

And, I just stood there, beaming,

Since I had no other choice.

I watched her grow to grade school.

Auntie took her to her church.

Her bonnets, then, were so cool –

Little birdies on their perch.

I went away soon after;

Missed her years of growing up,

And her infectious laughter –

Like ...

WEINER (a dick at P.R.)

IS JUST ANOTHER PETER

Washington seems to have a penchant for picking apart   any piece of petty flotsam floating about the pious or pusillanimous personality of any person pendant to the appellation of, Peter.

Peter always is a Grimm tale.

Peter Pan, per se, is scandalous enough –

But what would they say,

If   he appeared in the buff?

St. Peter might make it, if he told his three lies.

That would be acceptable;

But hiked robes, one decries.

  ...

RESQUIAT in PACE

PRIDE of the LYONS’ PRIDE

Ken Lyons was a quiet man.

That’s how he fits my mind.

He moved about like Peter Pan,

Serene and, oh, so kind.

I did not know Ken very well;

He married my dear niece.

See, I’ve been gone for quite a spell –

Our meetings all spelled, “Peace.”

Now, I know my remembrances

Are based on fleecy stuff.

I doubt that Connie’s diary says

It quite my way enough.

They liked to cruise upon the sea,

To go from place to place.

And, with them, this one ...

NOT, “…ST. LOUIS…”

but

“…JOPLIN, MISSOURI…”

Joplin of the Show-Me state,

Joplin etched in song,

Joplin of the deadly date,

When evil winds did wrong.

Twisters come and twisters go;

This one traversed too far,

Wide and with much-too-much show –

Surpassing any bar.

Homes and stores and cars all went;

Winds of hell took them all.

Hospitals, too, thus were rent,

And tasted bitter gall.

Lives a-many were at stake,

Trapped in what rubble was left.

When the storm began to break,

It showed a Jo ...