Instead of shaking my head, biting my lip or waving my fist at this crazy thing we call humanity, I’ve chosen to quietly write a poem. My intention isn’t to offend, but if it does, please contemplate this question: Isn’t it better to express one’s disillusion creatively than…?
Two-Thousand-7-Teen – – – – – – –
Angel hearts once made of gold
have turned to green, allergic mold
Acts of selfless charity
have turned to selfish memes of “me”
More and more the trumpet plays
More and more Lord Visa pays
Buying “bliss” at Jezebar
where clients hiss and “students” star
Will false idols lose their praise?
arousing cattle from their graze
Seers will boast, “most certainly”
and if they’re wrong, please don’t yell at me
Okay, so maybe this post should be titled Shel Silver-Saturday (what with it being Saturday and all), but since today is Singles’ Day (11/11), I think we can let it slide.
Happy Singles’ Day!
Okay, so crazy doesn’t exactly rhyme with baby,
but nobody’s perfect (especially this baby-sitter).
How Prince Charming developed a footphobia.
While trekking through the Gobi Desert, I developed a newfound appreciation for camels, the indispensable mammals of ancient and modern times, so I wrote a poem about them. It goes like this:
Graceful and grumpity
Loyal and lumpity
The camel treads on whenever she’s told
Mangy and moppity
Bouncy and bobbity
The camel delivers whatever she holds
A lifetime of work and little to play
She asks not for prestige, pity nor pay
Just a canopy of stars to guide the way
And a reasonable ration of flavorless hay
It’s Squary Saturday!
Here’s a snippet from Welcome to Squareville, a children’s book about a young Sphere named Rounda who moves into a village filled with Squares. Ridiculed at first, she learns to stand up for herself and teach the stubborn Squares a thing or two about being round.
Touching upon pivotal themes such as social tolerance and self worth, this brightly-colored picture book promises to inspire the roundness in us all.
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Her hair flows freely
like a monk’s silken robe:
Her hands bloom softly
above fertile soil:
Her eyes glow faintly
behind endless cloud:
She sees all
She hears all
She feels all
She gives all
– Quiet –