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GRAMMAR with a HAMMER

 

Two verbs we cannot separate,

No matter how we try –

No matter how they irritate –

They’re simply, “lay’ and “lie.”

 

For, “lay” needs an object to work,

Whichever   – off the shelf.

To lie upon one’s bed ’sno quirk,

Since one lays down oneself.

 

“Now, I lay me down to sleep,” is

A well-known verse to most.

“ ‘Reflexive’, I marked on the quiz,”

One may be proud to boast.

 

While on one hand, one says, “I lay,”

That’s speaking in the past.

But, should one want “to ...

DEATH or InCONVENIENCE?

 

I want my life back,

Whines the corporate chief.

I want my life back

From this oil-soaked thief!

 

This is a bother –

Every single day!

Of course, I’d rather

Not have hell to pay.

 

This interruption

Of my planned routine

Causes disruption –

Leaves no time to preen.

 

Can you imagine

How this rocks tea-time?

Our hoary fashion

Fills a need sublime.

 

Riding, then, at hounds

Trivial may seem.

As the Bard quoths, “Zounds!” –

Well, you have “Jim Beam.”

 

Royal command ...

 

TWENTY-NINE MINERS

 

Twenty-nine miners

Went into the dark.

Never the sun again to see.

They were no whiners,

Not off on a lark,

Knowing, fast, they could cease to be.

 

Twenty-nine souls merged

With carbon and dust,

Fulfilling an ancient decree.

Twenty-nine lives verged

On corporate trust:

That they from danger would be free.

 

Twenty-nine fam’lies,

Anguish-stricken, wept.

Waiting thusly is hard to bear.

Twenty-nine fam’lies,

Their lone vigil kept,

Hoping for hope that was not there.

 

Al ...

(Originally, this was written about a recently deceased nephew, for family consumption. Subsequently, it was discovered to have universal ideas worthy of inclusion in this space.)

 

Jimmy LONG:

A MODEL OF COPING AND INDEPENDENCE

 

Despite having been poked, prodded and pricked in the halls of medicine as an infant, and left with a paucity of the gifts that some of us squander, my nephew forged his way through life by developing those he did possess.

 

Although some of his private mome ...

This is an encomium to a good friend and events-planner extraordinaire.)

PEDRO the PARTY PLANNER

Peter, Petros, the Rock.
Perhaps not so solid as to support a church
But, solid in commitment -- you won’t go in hock --
Nor ever fear you’ll be left in the lurch.

Peter, Peter, Peter, in business he is true to ya.
Bubbly, faithful and giving.
He is as wine-wise as Julia
And as clever as Martha Stewart Living.

Peter, the go-getter,
The party-boy at large,
Will make a party better –
Even decorate your garage.

Pe ...

Reviewed by Curtis W. Long



A CIVIL WAR CHRISTMAS
(Play by Paula Vogel)

In what turns out to be a chock-full-of-music drama, this one-night episode placed in the embattled U.S. capital in December of 1864, had a limited engagement at the Lucie Stern Theater in Palo Alto, California. It marks the 40th anniversary of Theater Works of Silicon Valley.

Playwright Paula Vogel is a native of Washington, D.C., and she uses her knowledge of the layout of that city as the backdrop for a complicated renderi ...

OF JUDAS and ASSORTED VERMIN

Among one hundred senators,
All sworn to do our bidding,
One fits best among janitors –
Made queasy by that fitting..

This misplace solon vacillates
Twixt “rat” and “snake,” for starters.
His erstwhile friends he clearly hates
And now shamelessly barters.

A party favorite, he once ran
As V-P – It was ugly!
He became the forgotten man,
A burden he bore smugly.

But, in the race to keep his seat,
His party left him hanging.
In the midst of the ca ...

(Someone was explaining something to me, using metric measurements, as though it were a universally understood concept. Having no experience in a scientific or technological discipline, I realized I was not immediately grasping the import of what was being conveyed.

In jest, and ultimately in tragic truth, I said, “Don’t talk to me in metric; I’m
American.”

Ergo, the genesis of this otherwise pointless poem.)


METRIC AIN’T AMERICAN

Don’t talk to me of meters and ...

STILL COME THE FLAG-DRAPED COFFINS

“Show me no flag-draped coffins!”—
Cynically I said one day,
Because the flag-draped coffins,
Then, were all hidden away.

Those who caused so much anguish,
Sought so to hide it from view.
Thus, were the flags to vanish,
Thus would the thought go from you.

Such are the men of mayhem,
Those who from comfort make war.
They merely start an anthem,
Yell, “Fire!” and then hit the floor.

Those whom the anthem reaches
Go forth to render their souls.
Meanwhi ...

(This is a tribute to José Rosa, CEO of RosArt Multimedia, Inc., upon the occasion of his birthday.)

ODE to PEPI

So often he came
To the count of ten,
But bounced up off the floor.
With no one to blame,
Like the best of men,
His lumps he staunchly bore.

Big Apple's the fault--
Where his fire was lit
To scrutinize the world
He started to vault,
With a mind well fit;
He thought he'd give it a twirl.

The world's not a chump,
Though its turn is slow.
And, yes, it will punch back.
So, into a slump
Quite soon d ...