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Tag Archives: photos
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LITTLE ENGINE
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NOTHING TO ADD
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BUGSKETBALL
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SUSPENDED AVIATION
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PROVERBS FIRST DRAFTS: Glass Trees
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NIRVANA ALBUM COVERS FIRST DRAFTS: Swim As You Are
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CAMOFROG
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DISTANT COUSINS
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LONERCYCLE
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WALKAFELLER PLAZA
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METTLE MOUTH
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HOUSTON on the HUDSON
YOU CAN’T, LEAF!
You there, leaves,
Back on the trees!
You may NOT yet come down
And blanket the ground!
You must help us stall
The beginning of fall,
Because the end of summer
Would be such a bummer.
So up, up, you go
To those branches you know,
Back up in place,
This isn’t a race!
Then in one month feel free
To LEAP off the trees,
Right now I can’t take
The thought of a rake.
AUTUMNA NON GRATA – (Photo – PaC)
SAND HASSLE
Go away birdies
leave me be,
I want to relax
here by the sea,
But your pecking is creepy
your breath smells like gill,
I want to sleep
and your cawing is shrill.
So go away birdies
go fly away,
there are no crackers here,
no reason to stay.
“Early Bird of Venice Beach” (Photo: PaC)
MANTISIZING
For what does the poolside mantis pray?
An umbrella drink,
A chameleon who’ll play?
Some clouds to give shade
From the heat of the day?
The salty breeze
Of a distant bay?
To escape the view
Of the hungry blue jay?
The showers of April
The flowers of May?
The observers’ wonder
But the mantis won’t say
For if anything what
By the poolside he prays.
(Photo: PaC)
CAN’T BE LICKED
All day I could eat ice cream
Then still have more at night
To say there is a time I can’t eat ice cream
is not right.
That’s why in all my belt loops
I hook on sixteen spoons,
It’s why at my house there’s
Ten freezers in each room
And toppings stashed inside the pocket
Of each coat I own
And why I’m working on a way
To eat ice cream through my phone.
Ice cream may not be perfect
But it’s very very close
So to sundaes, cones, and chipwiches,
Let’s raise an ice cream toast.
THE DOOR TO NOWHERE
Today I will be busy
Though I have no to-do list,
Just lots of stuff ahead of me
That nobody should miss.
All of it is out there
In one easy to find place
That has no walls or ceiling
But endless open space.
The directions there are simple:
Walk right out the Door
To the magic land of Nowhere,
It’s the greatest to explore.
All it takes is curiosity
And every trip Nowhere will prove
That no matter what you’ve heard
Nowhere is someplace too.
The view from beneath the roof over the Door to Nowhere (Photo: PaC)
See Timothy Egan’s column in The Old Gray Lady for more on the value of minds that go Nowhere — John Lennon’s, for instance.
SEA-SONA-NON-GRATA
Be gone Old Man Winter,
You’ve had your prance.
I’ve already put away
all my corduroy pants.
April is half gone now,
the green grass is showing,
so much that I can hear
folks down the street mowing.
Baseball has returned,
we’re all thinking spring
nobody has interest
in one last icy fling.
You’re in this year’s rear view
as we head forward,
away from you Winter,
and the hot summer toward.
After the long, drab winter, popped lilacs are like purple pyrotechnics. (Photo: PaC)
A BASKET CASE
UPDATED 3-26-16: To read this poem as a STELLER STORY, click on the photo below.
Last year’s Easter egg hunt
was in the old cornfield.
Now it seems that day
not every egg was revealed
and that from those left back
are this year being born
acres and acres of stalks
sprouting tiny eggcorns.
Nature’s packaged each one
in a shell in a husk,
so cracking the eggcorns
is a rusty padlock fuss.
But once their outer layers
are opened up and clean
the cob yolks deep inside
are like nothing that you’ve seen:
Purple, pink, and yellow,
orange, blue, and jade,
all the prettiest pastels,
every springtime shade.
Just how nature made this magic
Science is still figuring,
but one thing learned so far:
is mighty omelets
from the tiny eggcorns spring.
Eggcorns are the kernel of a colorful Easter breakfast. (Photo: PaC)
GREEN HAIR SOLUTION
In a pinch? In a bind?
Have an out of style flip?
That’s dampened your spirits?
Put a dip in your zip?
Well no messy hair doll
has reason to fret
who knows the old Ballad
of the Green Barrette.
It’s a song that licks cowlicks
and marches past bed-head,
that makes crooked parts
straight as new tire tread.
So to tune up your coif,
it may be your best bet
to sing that ol’ pea-colored clip classic,
The Ballad of the Green Barrette.
“SIGHT READING IS TOUGH, PILGRIM!” – An artist rendering of the original score from “The Ballad of the Green Barrette” (Photo: PaC)
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2013 – CHUCKDATE
This was the first year I sidestepped scissors, stamps, and the sweet smell of xerox fumes, producing an all digital card out of a table design, photo, and email blast that went out on The Night Before. (Photo: PaC)
ABYSS of BLISS
Dad claims “You
can’t see to
the bottom of a good cup of joe.”
I say good’er bad,
looking won’t make you glad
to have coffee up yer nose.
Beware the abyss of bottomless bliss … RESPECT THE MUGSTACHE! (Photo: PaC)
HOLY BIRD
In our yard
a bird of pray
landed so discreetly.
I watched him stretch
his praying wings
then fold them up so neatly.
Of all the birds I ever seen
I never seen one looked so mean
or one who asked me from his perch,
“It seems I’m lost. Which way’s the church?”
Click above on the feasting flyer to flip to a story of a suburban bird love triangle. (Photo: PaC)
O’NO!
No business card order
made Jim’s Print Shop squirm
like the monthly one from
the Dublin law firm
of “O’Billy, O’Biley, O’Riley, O’Connell,
MacDougal, MacTavish, MacCabbage, MacDonald,
Kilkenny, Kilpatrick, Fitzpatrick, Kilboyle,
McLanahan, Shanahan, Flanagan, Doyle.”
So many Dubliners would make almost any Jim’s head spin. (Photo: PaC)
Tweed Typewriter 