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Two Great Powers The summit held by Vladimir and Joe, Where Biden said that two great powers met, Officially succeeded—though we know, Geneva has accomplished nothing yet! Reporters were all told: To reach the goal Envisioned by our president takes time, As we lack moves within one man's control To turn back his opponent on a dime ... Perhaps it makes Joe envy the extent Of soccer power: One star snubbed some Coke, Which dropped Coke's share price almost two percent, Effecting his objective at a stroke! ... Ronaldo can achieve goals tout de suite, Since he has two great powers—both his feet! (First published in Light on June 21, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week. Ronaldo's effect on the share-price has since been disputed.) |
With Half A Crown "With half a crown, there's nothing you can do," Intoned my dad when uncles gave me cash, "Though if you save them till you have a few, Half-crowns can grow to build a tidy stash— However, they will never bring a thing, Alone!" ... But did my father lie to me? Last week I learned what one half-crown does bring: Fir-loving Bharat Mistry's neighbors Lee— Aggrieved by noisy songbirds dropping poo, Completely blanketing the car on site— Reshaped his crown by slicing it in two, Obliterating growth along the right! ... With half a crown, they won't be tourist-free— Now half of Sheffield flocks to see this tree! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on June 28, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
Ceremonial Duty Crape myrtles thrive in Montecito's clime, Except when weekly rainfall is too low, Requiring irrigation. That's the time Embracing sacred duties Chumash know Means not to tap a water source close by— Or face some matriarchal Chumash ire! ... "Not fair!" complained Prince Harry, with a sigh, "I left old England with my heart's desire And bought a royal mansion so we could Leave formal duty far behind. But now, Diverting holy water to our 'hood Upsets the Chumash leader ... Let's see how To pacify her, to avoid a fray ... Your duty, Meg—I'm off to the UK!" (First published in Light on July 5, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week.) |
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The Frankophile Through Joey Chestnut's hyperactive jaws, Hot dogs are crammed precipitously fast: Eight seconds each, which won last year's applause, For this year's contest would have been surpassed! ... Revolted Francophiles, whose haute cuisine Avoids all dining habits that appear Neanderthal or early Pleistocene, Keep asking of their homonym's career— Of pigging pork ribs, Twinkies, doughnut goo, Poutine and all the rest at record speeds— How life's achievements don't make Joey spew ... I think his secret is how fast he feeds: Low speed is so unheard of, he must know Emetic urges start when he eats slow! (Prompted by this article and first published in the Creativity Webzine on November 30, 2021) |
Your Future King Your future king is on the radio, Objecting to cheap monoculture fare: Unless you eat organic food, there's no Redemption for the planet we all share— Forget that I own more of it than you! ... Unfettered large-scale farming industry Tears down the web of rural life I knew, Upsetting nature's ways. The heart will be Ripped out of Britain's countryside if your Eccentric-farmer types go out of biz, Knee-deep in what makes agriculture pure ... I've waited eons to succeed mum Liz— Now I'm concerned that if Big Ag ordain, Great Britain won't be worth the wait to reign! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on July 19, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
Ballywatticock (First published in the December 2022 issue of Lighten Up Online; story here) |