Poems
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The Poetry Machine Will the poetry machine inside my head Keep running on after I am dead? Churning out copy for Roger G And others who might want to see Or will it finally grind to a halt Leaving remnants for the vault My output has not been all that prodigious So what does it…
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Uncertain Shall I compose a poem on serious issues in our lives Perhaps the illusory nature of time, the non-existence of the self. Or of love, always at the forefront of human concerns. Alas, there are so many odes and sonnets by poets more able That I search for some less crowded place at this…
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My Julie I have a vivid memory of her as she stood by my bedside In that hospital bed with only weeks or days before I died She was near midlife at that point, a woman of rare beauty Come after years apart to see me once more, to do her duty Then my body…
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The Other Day Things Were Going So Well The other day things were going so well But in a blink of an eye it all went to hell I’m glad if my poems have brightened your days And perhaps they help you in this life maze
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The Workout I was hoping to write a poem soon in couplets that all rhyme And I’m getting older faster so I’d better not waste time But first I’ll play around with the machines here in our gym Then jump into our pool and have myself a swim Now the blood is moving faster and…
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There were three of us to start with, but three would be too fewSo we canvassed the departments and added one or two From time to time we found another to take us up to sixWe drank a lot of beer, the group seemed a perfect mix The stakes were pretty low to match the…
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Let’s try to describe us to a visitor from outer spaceJust how shall we characterize our race? We are a social animal, all science would agreeAnd that has been the case for all of history In general, we all repeat the things we do that workAnd avoid what makes us look luck a dummy or…
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I’m Not a Poet Let’s be clear: I’m not a poet I look at the poems in some magazines I read, And no matter how friends and family might plead, I’m not a poet I wouldn’t mind being a poet I admire William Carlos Williams, for example Although of all his poems I’ve only read…
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At Santa’s little cabin far up there in the northThe red-faced Mrs. Claus is once more holding forth On Santa’s peculiarities, especially his vicesBecoming, it seems, an existential crisis How can you get on those roof tops with that expanding bellyWhich has grown with all that snacking as you sit there at the telly Those…
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The Door Will some thoughtful person please show me the door I just don’t want to live around here any more The last thing I want is to tell you how to live It’s up to you to decide what to take or to give And I would now like to take myself away To…