Wednesday, January 14, 2009
LONGEVITY
LONGEVITY
Three men on a veranda sat,
an old age home, where they were at.
Rocked in their chairs, and chewed the fat
about longevity.
One said he'd led a simple life,
adored his children, loved his wife,
kept his emotions free of strife,
and he was eighty-three.
The next averred that he had found
the teachings of the prophets sound
for keeping both feet on the ground,
and three score-ten was he.
The third had listened all the while.
Bemused,with a sardonic smile
upon a face that could beguile
the devil and his minions.
And when his turn came round, said he:
The simple life?, no not for me.
Religion?, not my cup of tea
I don't share your opinions.
For I am of a different ilk,
rye whiskey is my mothers milk.
I've clothed myself in shirts of silk,
and spent all I could borrow.
And 'though I may have hell to pay
for living in a reckless way,
if I can make it through today,
I'm twenty-eight tomorrow!
BILL WARREN
12/21/31
A CAT'S CRADLE (AND COFFIN)
A CAT'S CRADLE (AND COFFIN)
A CAT WAS PLACED INTO A BOX
THAT WAS FITTED WITH NUCLEAR LOCKS.
IF A WAY OUT IT FIGURED
A BOMB WOULD BE TRIGGERED
AND BLOW IT CLEAN OUT OF IT'S SOCKS.
BUT, IF IN THE BOX IT REMAINED,
THE OXYGEN THEREIN CONTAINED
WOULD SLOWLY DIMINISH
AND LEAD TO IT'S FINISH,
NO WAY OF ESCAPE COULD BE GAINED.
"IN THEORY", A PHYSICIST SAID,
"ONCE PLACED IN THE BOX, IT IS DEAD."
WHILE I DOUBT NOT HIS THEORY,
I DO HAVE THIS QUERRY:
DOES THAT LEAVE IT EIGHT LIVES AHEAD?
BILL WARREN
12/21/31
THE DIVINE SARAH
THE DIVINE SARAH
THE ELECTIONS OF TWO THOUSAND-EIGHT
WERE COMPRISED OF A SPECTRUM-LIKE SLATE.
THERE WAS AGE, THERE WAS YOUTH.
THE URBANE, THE UNCOUTH
JOINED THE RACE TO REPLACE GEORGE THE GREAT.
I TRULY ADMIRED MC CAIN.
HE CAME THROUGH IT ALL WITHOUT STAIN.
HIS CHOICE OF THAT GAL IN
ALASKA, MS. PALIN,
ENSURED THAT NO CHOICE WOULD REMAIN.
HE SAVED US FROM “PRESIDENT SARAH”
A FEMININE TYPE YOGI BERRA.
WITH HER KNOWLEDGE OF FOREIGN
WE’D BE HELD UP TO SCORN
FROM SPITZBERGEN SOUTH TO TIERRA.
ALAS, I HAVE ONE OF THOSE FEARS,
SHE MIGHT TRY AGAIN IN FOUR YEARS.
AND WITH HOURS TO BURN,
“GUNS AND LIPSTICK” MIGHT LEARN
THAT AFRICA’S NOT IN ALGIERS!
BILL WARREN
NOVEMBER 30, 2008
THE ELECTIONS OF TWO THOUSAND-EIGHT
WERE COMPRISED OF A SPECTRUM-LIKE SLATE.
THERE WAS AGE, THERE WAS YOUTH.
THE URBANE, THE UNCOUTH
JOINED THE RACE TO REPLACE GEORGE THE GREAT.
I TRULY ADMIRED MC CAIN.
HE CAME THROUGH IT ALL WITHOUT STAIN.
HIS CHOICE OF THAT GAL IN
ALASKA, MS. PALIN,
ENSURED THAT NO CHOICE WOULD REMAIN.
HE SAVED US FROM “PRESIDENT SARAH”
A FEMININE TYPE YOGI BERRA.
WITH HER KNOWLEDGE OF FOREIGN
WE’D BE HELD UP TO SCORN
FROM SPITZBERGEN SOUTH TO TIERRA.
ALAS, I HAVE ONE OF THOSE FEARS,
SHE MIGHT TRY AGAIN IN FOUR YEARS.
AND WITH HOURS TO BURN,
“GUNS AND LIPSTICK” MIGHT LEARN
THAT AFRICA’S NOT IN ALGIERS!
BILL WARREN
NOVEMBER 30, 2008
BARRED AS A BARD
BARRED AS A BARD
RETIREMENT?, SUBLIME!
BUT, WHAT TO DO WITH TIME?
I THOUGHT A BIT,
CAME UP WITH IT ,
I'D SPEND MY DAYS IN RHYME.
IT SEEMED, IN MY NAIVETY
CONCERNING THAT ACTIVITY,
JUST PEN AND INK
AND TIME TO THINK
SHOULD LEAD TO CREATIVITY.
HOW LITTLE I THEN KNEW!
WHEN I SET OUT TO DO
WORD SYMETERY
BEFUDDLED ME,
I DIDN'T HAVE A CLUE.
A FRIEND (WHO HAD SOME BREEDING),
SAID: WRITING COMES FROM READING.
AND SO I'D PORE
O'ER FABLED LORE,
'TIL EVERY PORE WAS BLEEDING.
I READ OF GRECIAN URNS.
WILL SHAKESPERE'S TWISTS AND TURNS.
AND, IN MY SLEEP
I'D PROBE THE DEEP
WHERE DANTE'S FIRE BURNS.
THEN, WHEN I'D HAD MY BELLY
FULL OF KEATS AND SHEELEY,
I'D TRY AGAIN
BUT, FROM MY PEN
LEAKED VINTAGE EMMETT KELLY.
MY POETRY WAS CLOWNISH,
MY COUNTENANCE GREW FROWNISH.
I TOOK TO BOOZE,
AND SANG THE BLUES,
ALAS, MY BLUES WERE BROWNISH.
MY RHYMING EFFORTS FAILED.
I'LL NEVER BE REGALED.
THE BARD, 'TIS SURE,
CAN REST SECURE.
I'M ON MY PEN IMPALED.
I'VE LABORED QUITE A SPELL WITH IT,
AND HAVEN'T DONE TOO WELL WITH IT.
PERHAPS SOMEDAY I'LL TRY A PLAY.
FOR NOW, I SAY: TA HELL WITH IT!
BILL WARREN NOVEMBER 30, 2008
RETIREMENT?, SUBLIME!
BUT, WHAT TO DO WITH TIME?
I THOUGHT A BIT,
CAME UP WITH IT ,
I'D SPEND MY DAYS IN RHYME.
IT SEEMED, IN MY NAIVETY
CONCERNING THAT ACTIVITY,
JUST PEN AND INK
AND TIME TO THINK
SHOULD LEAD TO CREATIVITY.
HOW LITTLE I THEN KNEW!
WHEN I SET OUT TO DO
WORD SYMETERY
BEFUDDLED ME,
I DIDN'T HAVE A CLUE.
A FRIEND (WHO HAD SOME BREEDING),
SAID: WRITING COMES FROM READING.
AND SO I'D PORE
O'ER FABLED LORE,
'TIL EVERY PORE WAS BLEEDING.
I READ OF GRECIAN URNS.
WILL SHAKESPERE'S TWISTS AND TURNS.
AND, IN MY SLEEP
I'D PROBE THE DEEP
WHERE DANTE'S FIRE BURNS.
THEN, WHEN I'D HAD MY BELLY
FULL OF KEATS AND SHEELEY,
I'D TRY AGAIN
BUT, FROM MY PEN
LEAKED VINTAGE EMMETT KELLY.
MY POETRY WAS CLOWNISH,
MY COUNTENANCE GREW FROWNISH.
I TOOK TO BOOZE,
AND SANG THE BLUES,
ALAS, MY BLUES WERE BROWNISH.
MY RHYMING EFFORTS FAILED.
I'LL NEVER BE REGALED.
THE BARD, 'TIS SURE,
CAN REST SECURE.
I'M ON MY PEN IMPALED.
I'VE LABORED QUITE A SPELL WITH IT,
AND HAVEN'T DONE TOO WELL WITH IT.
PERHAPS SOMEDAY I'LL TRY A PLAY.
FOR NOW, I SAY: TA HELL WITH IT!
BILL WARREN NOVEMBER 30, 2008
A PIECE O' ME MIND
A PIECE O' ME MIND
Me cousin Sean O'flerhity is Chieftan of our clan.
He speaks out with asperity,
and fears not any man.
And those that contradict a'tall he sets on their behind.
D'ya see?, sez he as his victims fall,
I give 'em a piece o' me mind!
But a different Sean I seen this day,
with puzzlement on his face.
Me b'y, sez he, I'm sad ta say
Ya find me in disgrace.
Flynn gave bad cess while passin' by,
as is his wont ta do,
and I set me tounge ta give reply
but niver a word came through.
The t'oughts got muddled in me pate,
it has me that perplexed.
From all that I can cogitate,
The wee folk have me hexed.
Now, I'm not one ta criticize,
free speech comes dearly bought.
But, lookin' squareky in his eyes,
I offered Sean this thought:
Da ya think, sez I, just bein' kind.
the reason yer bereft,
Y'uve given so many a "piece o' yer mind
'til y'uve hardly any left!
Me cousin Sean O'flerhity
now is gentle as a pup.
He rewarded me temerity,
then he stooped, an' helped me up.
BILL WARREN
SUNDAY NOVEMBER 30, 2008
Me cousin Sean O'flerhity is Chieftan of our clan.
He speaks out with asperity,
and fears not any man.
And those that contradict a'tall he sets on their behind.
D'ya see?, sez he as his victims fall,
I give 'em a piece o' me mind!
But a different Sean I seen this day,
with puzzlement on his face.
Me b'y, sez he, I'm sad ta say
Ya find me in disgrace.
Flynn gave bad cess while passin' by,
as is his wont ta do,
and I set me tounge ta give reply
but niver a word came through.
The t'oughts got muddled in me pate,
it has me that perplexed.
From all that I can cogitate,
The wee folk have me hexed.
Now, I'm not one ta criticize,
free speech comes dearly bought.
But, lookin' squareky in his eyes,
I offered Sean this thought:
Da ya think, sez I, just bein' kind.
the reason yer bereft,
Y'uve given so many a "piece o' yer mind
'til y'uve hardly any left!
Me cousin Sean O'flerhity
now is gentle as a pup.
He rewarded me temerity,
then he stooped, an' helped me up.
BILL WARREN
SUNDAY NOVEMBER 30, 2008
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