one who reads in bed
Some to while away an hour
others hasten sleep
Today is Thanksgiving in the USA. For my British friends that’s sort of like Harvest Festival. Anyway, besides doing not much and then sitting down to a large dinner, I found time today to go through another box of papers from my storage area, i.e. my garage floor. The gem above is what I found. I used to belong to a hobby group of publishers, poets and printers. This piece dates from about 1972-73. This might even be classified as an ancient manuscript.
A quick note: I wake up quite often during the night; why I don’t know. But, in order to go back to sleep I count syllables (not sheep). I woke up this morning and my bedside note pad had this scrawled on it like public toilet graffiti.
what is or is not is a
waste of energy
Humpty Trumpty wanted a wall
But first he planned his inaugural ball
Not many accepted his command to be there
None of them seemed to want to share
In a dubious victory so full of doubt
Russians all over, just rushing about.
Hacking e-mails and sneaking a peek
At matters quite private of which we don’t speak.
Of course he denies it; says it’s a lie
Trumpty will soon gobble the American pie.
His cabinet of billionaires oh yes and there’s more
Millionaires too because he considers them poor.
Let’s see; classless, mean, a vindictive bully
These titles will help to understand him fully.
He suckered us all with fraud and his con
Tweets with which we were showered upon
But Trumpty’s a liar, he can lie in his sleep
And gullible folk will follow like so many sheep.
Guns are important but he doesn’t shoot
The second amendment, the point is moot.
Trumpty doesn’t like his intelligence pals
He’d rather hang out with Hot Russian gals
Putin got tired of dolls he said “Stuff it”
I want a president to act as my puppet.
If I pull the string will he be sweet?
And go off half-cocked with an irrational tweet.
Chaos is what Putin wants to foment
But Trumpty does not believe that’s his intent.
Trumpty is naïve and not worldly wise
He views the world with a newborn’s eyes.
In God We Trust a national motto
But with Trumpty I think we are playing the Lotto.
I hope he’ll learn and quickly at that
He’s no longer the man in the stupid red hat
It’s serious business he’s involved in now
No chance to mutter the words Holy Cow.
I hope too he’ll abandon his wall
A racist monument bound to appall
Even the stoutest Republican soul.
We’ve reached a point where enough is enough
The time where Dems start to get tough.
Now is the time for that rallying call.
Trumpty climb down, we don’t need a wall.
What would happen if you should fall?
There’s a good chance you will fall on your face
At that’s the moment you’ll lose your Ace.
All the King’s horses and the GOP
Will have to eat egg sandwiches for tea!
Last night, as I lay sleeping;
A thought ran through my head.
Shall I write more haiku or try some rhyme instead?
And so with plume in hand and ink pot close nearby,
Sand caster at the ready to ensure my ink would dry.
I began. By the light of the silvery moon to let words fall,
Simply where they may. My word there were so many;
I had so much to say.
I wrote throughout the night, until the sun did rise.
But there before me on my desk, blank paper nothing else.
Just empty sheets there were no words, I’d dreamed it by myself.
Now, awake with firm resolve, I write a few words down.
However, I cannot think at all;
I have a writer’s block. My brain’s not on the ball
With eyes wide open I now will try,
I have to take the plunge.
Sadly I realize the truth, there is no word,
That nicely rhymes with orange.
I think I’m going to cry.
At that, I balance my sand caster
On the center of my head.
Where I am sure, if it should fall
Will dry my tears instead.