God's Waiting Room

I was thinking of the Colonnade, and it reminded me of my friend Robert's account of the one and only time we went there in 2012. Which was obviously before he died:

So, after 30 years, I finally made it to the Colonnade, the OTHER Southern lunch place next to Mary Mac's, the principal place on Ponce where people of a certain age (born when Coolidge was President) dine in Atlanta. I am (and still am) a Mary Mac's guy, the joke is, you are either a PC guy (People of Colonnade) or a Mac guy.

Mary Macs is colorful and funky. The Colonnade – I learned yesterday – is much of its time; I think the last time they may have tacked up wallpaper or vacuumed might have been when we were about to have NASA go to the moon.

All this is fine; the food – fried everything, overcooked vegetables, giganticus desserts made for The Greatest Generation, who no longer have any teeth but like giant bowls of fudge-glazed, well, fudge.

Now, my very favorite lunch pal, who has been with me for something like 20 years now, and who is as witty as Noel Coward, a talented artist, and to some extent, the guy who tortures me amusingly the best because he knows all my major and minor foibles in 1,000 ways. So, the Colonnade – you’d have to see it – is like walking into the set of the Dick Van Dyke show’s best lunch place, but Southern. Fried fish, chicken, livers, milk, green beans, fried anything. Mashed sprouts, turnips, pickles, apples, beans, anything. It’s like a Paula Deen wet dream.

Now, Best Pal is an Atlanta lad of many years, this is good territory for him, and new territory for me. We order fried this or that, it’s very economical and strange and our waiter is fun. (My pal is fun, too – the waiter was African-American, my friend ordered his chicken, and then whispered, “I said, 'Fried Chicken, Dark Meat.' Do you think he was offended?” The stuff of dreams!)

So, we’re eating, and there is a loon behind Best Pal, with, presumably, his mother, who looks quite like Anthony Perkin’s Mom in “Psycho,” staring into her buttermilk like she’d had a lobotomy along with one of the Kennedy kids in the 1940s. He had a laptop with him, and he started – God, literally, knows why – to list Methodist church names. My Best Pal jumps in as he goes along.

Methodist Man (droning voice):

Church of Christ

Church of Faithbridge

Church of The Harvest

Church of Riverbridge

Church of the Morning Star

… and, as he goes on, Best Pal, who can hear, but can’t see what he’s up to, whispers, "Shrimp creole ..."

Every time Church man takes a breath …

Church of the Covenant

Shrimp gumbo

Church of the New Covenant

Shrimp ka-bob

Now, the juicy part is, every time Best Pal and I, who are in stitches with this incantatory recitation of churches v. Bubba shrimp recipes, think he’s done, no, he starts up again, and so does Best Pal.

Church of the Woodlands … (he drones on)

Best Pal: Pan-fried, deep-fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich …

Now, this goes on for some time, until the Droning Methodist packs up his computer, picks up the remains of his mother – and get this – dons a sombrero that looks like a 1960s cartoon, and leaves.

It was cripplingly funny, which is an operative word, since I stood up with my cane, and suddenly looked around and realized EVERYONE in the Colonnade had a cane, unless they were in a chair, gurney, or hearse.

We drifted out of God’s Little Waiting Room into the afternoon where the sky virtually said “come to the light!” – and went on with our day!

A thing of beauty, but from now on, it’s Mary Mac's!

_________

1) No, We were not a couple. We were more like a double act in Vaudeville. We were "The Bob and Robert Show." Or, as Robert once said, "Shecky and Shaky."

We worked together from 9:00-5:30 every day, then sat at the bar for another few hours. We knew each other's timing and could both set up a straight line and let the other one nail the punch.

2) This might actually be the last thing of Robert's I'll ever copy edit. The guy could crank out the words, but he couldn't punctuate.

Robert’s Rules of Order

1. Be excellent to each other.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rph_1DODXDU

2. Do not write on the walls.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mY_PEcfx0CU

3. Three is the number of the count.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOrgLj9lOwk

4. The rules are ... there ain't no rules!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b08DChU5qsg

5. No wire hangers.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOILKHmZBwc

6. There is no Rule Six.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gw1Ur62x0Q&t=1s

7. No chewing gum on line.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcokL59jeqU

8. Don't tug on Superman's cape.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOcCoMFpM7g

9. Karate for defense only.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDLuQdLN5G8

10. You can't put too much water in a nuclear reactor.
Early SNL sketch. I can't find a link.

"Duckhide!" and the birth of Waddlerianism

Back in 1985, a group of us from Atlanta went up to a campground in Wisconsin for a week.

We were in two vehicles: in a van were my friends Alan, Nild, Kim, George, and Mike. Maybe a couple of more I’ve forgotten. My friend Autumn and I were in another car, keeping in touch with the van via walkie-talkies purchased at Walmart.

We drove all night, and with each stop for gas, the van people were loopier and loopier. Somewhere around Gary, Indiana, the van people had come up with the Waddlin’ song. It was sung to the tune of the Rawhide theme, but it was about ducks.

By the time we got to Madison, Wisconsin, “Waddlerianism” was a full-blown religion. We even had our own schism once!

The Atlanta group ended up going our different ways, but we still sing the song on the occasions we get together.

Here it is, 2022, nearly 40 years later, and I had another look at the song. I fleshed it out a little. I can’t believe that in all these years nobody thought of “hell-bent for feathers.” Eh! We were young.

So here’s that song:

Waddlin’, waddlin’, waddlin’,
Keep them duckies waddlin’,
Keep them duckies waddlin’, Duckhide!

Through fowl wind and weather,
Hell-bent for feathers,
Waiting with a duckling by my side.

Waddlin’, waddlin’, waddlin’,
Duckies might be dawdlin’,
Keep them duckies waddlin’, Duckhide!

Don't try to understand ’em,
Just rope, throw and band ’em,
Soon they’ll be flying high and wide!

Waddlin’, waddlin’, waddlin’,
Keep them duckies waddlin’,
Keep them duckies waddlin’, Duckhide!

Blow'em 2022: Part 2

This weekend’s Blow’em will be in the form of limericks. Everyone knows what a limerick is, but let’s go over it anyway: 

A limerick is a form of verse … in five-line, predominantly anapestic trimeter with a strict rhyme scheme of AABBA, in which the first, second and fifth lines rhyme, while the third and fourth lines are shorter and share a different rhyme. 

Extra points if the topic of the verse is science. 

Double extra points if your limerick is in a language other than English.

If you’re having trouble getting started, here are a few lines you can riff off of:

1) The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter. (Twain)
2) How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live. (Thoreau)
3) Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work. (Sandburg)
4) Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something. (Plato)

Aaaaand go!

___________

BK

I'll start.

A Uyghur with a load of blue rep
Trod the Silk Road with a surfeit of pep.
To while away hours
He planted hundreds of flowers
As a way to put Spring in his Steppe.

Diana
Aster, azalea, and chrysanthemum
Blooms of a plenty and of maximum
Joy he bestowed
On the gravel below
Don’t think about where the seeds had come from.

BK
This trader in silk and in wool
Knew what to do when push came to pull;
He surely weren't lazy
When pushing up Daisy
And had extra seed by the handful.

__________

Brian
There once stood a man from Corinth
Obsessed by an analogue synth
Just a filtered VCO,
Yet the hours would flow
As it droned on and on from its plinth.

Diana
I’m not really sure of what you speak
But I can tell you my interest you have piqued
I’d like to learn more
Unless it’s a bore
And only a topic that concerns geeks.

Brian
The brief bit that here I have shown
Has a language indeed all its own
Used for music it's true,
From engineering experiments it grew
Moog's among them likely of most renown.

_________

Diana
Our flower, our daughter, our dear Sister Sue
Artist and dreamer and lover of truth
She walks in the rain
And often complains
Her heart has been broken but she’s learned to make do.

BK
No way should our dear Sue surrender
To that heartbreaker, that vile pretender.
She should do what I do,
Eschew the boo-hoo
And go on a seven-day bender.

Diana
It’s tempting, the cure you recommend
But it’s better to have a drink with a friend
So if you’re inclined
To poison your mind
This blasted sobriety we can quickly end!

__________

BK
Laughter is medicine, they say,
That keeps melancholy at bay.
So, is it true or a rumor
That some vital humour
Should be injected three times a day?

Diana
Injecting humor into the day
Is a good way to keep the blues at bay
But to use a syringe
Just makes me cringe
I don’t think you're using it the correct way!

__________

Brian
I HAI THERE! U SEE THIZ LOLCAT
I AM IN UR POST IS A FACT
U THINK IS TRICK - IS MY LIMERICK
BUT THEN LIKE SNEK I ATTAC

Diana
Doge coin is soaring and Grumpy cat dead
The cat with the lady screaming off her fool head
I do love a meme
Even though it does seem
That I Can Haz Cheezburger has gone to your head.

__________

Terry
So this Schrodinger dude had a cat
As did Seuss, but his cat had a hat
Meanwhile I must see
What the vet bill will be
Before putting this… hey, why just a mat?

__________

BK
A doughboy hunkered down in a trench,
Was desperate his hunger to quench.
He tossed back a dram,
Ate a forkful of Spam
But cursed the poor Service, damned French.

A soldier 'tween Par-ee and Berlin
Gave a young partisan some flowers and gin.
To his wanton insistence
She showed no Resistance
And now they are living in Seine.

A soldier alone and afraid
Said, "To hell with this chicken brigade."
He was looking for fun
In the War with the Hun
"I just came to France to get laid."

__________

Joe
Schrödinger boxed up his cat
And had some mates ‘round to his flat
Heisenberg said,
“Alive and/or dead,
I’m really unsure about that”

BK
Schrödinger peeked in his box all agog,
Eager to record the results in his log.
Despite his suspicion
Of superposition,
What he found was a dead Pavlov's dog.

Joe
Pavlov kept ringing his bell
Trials were going quite well
Immersed in a pool
Of fresh canine drool
Data collection is hell

BK
Pavlov was just a beginner;
An apéritif before dinner.
Not just Schrödinger's box
Was prone to give shocks;
For that we also have Skinner.

_________

Joe
Young Thomas Dolby did find
A lass who was brilliant of mind
Who moved like the ocean
Like verse writ in motion
Alas, the result left him blind.

The lab coat said to the blazer,
“When learning to be an appraiser
As you and your buddies
Read all our studies
Remember to use Occam’s razor”

A frustrated pro climatologist
Berated a petrol apologist
“Your argument’s spurious
And I am so furious
You’ll need a damn good proctologist!”

__________

Diana
The cloud rides a wave of soft blowing breeze
Drifts gently over the tops of the trees
Then out comes the sun
To ruin its fun
Burning away a life made of ease.

__________

Terry
Johnny was a chemist
Johnny is no more
What he thought was H20
Was H2SO4.

Diana
The solution Johnny drank made his insides burn
Once it started working, to go back he did yearn
But now he’s gone
To the great beyond
And now it is a fact that Johnny will never learn

DAY TWO
We had a good run of science limericks last night thanks to Joe Ramsey. Let's change the topic. Extra points for literature-themed limericks.

BK
A man with a penchant for horror
Had a crow show up at his door.
He talked to the bird,
It said not a word.
The man was more morose than before.

Joe
Big black bird perched upon Pallas
Croaks a word gloomy and callous
Man says, “Lenore?
I’ll see nevermore?
Then what shall I do with my… [chalice] ?”

BK
A fellow was stuck on some isle
To survive by luck and by guile.
With his man Friday
And, too, God Almighty
He managed to be shipwrecked in style.

Gregor S. woke up a cockroach
Which earned him no end of reproach.
His visage grotesque,
Dare I say Kafkaesque,
But worse, now he has to fly coach.

Linda
There once was a cloud from Nantucket
That brooded then shed rains in buckets.
We All dash Inside
To keep OurSelves dry
Whatever it takes, we say f*#% it!

Terry
A difficult drunkard named Hemingway
Chortled not (“Keep it simple, he did say)
He fished, hunted, shot skeet
He of course ate red meat
And considered bullfighting a holiday.

Linda
There once was a cat from Newberry
his tuxedo/mask/blackandwhite/hairy
Sure he walks kinda funny
It just makes me feel sunny
And rested and calm and aware-y

BK
As the Dust Bowl did discommode
The family of parolee Tom Joad,
He said, "These grapes are all wrath
So you do the math
And let's get this show on the road."

Joe
The lonely wanderer Wordsworth
Knew just what a cloud or a bird’s worth
He got lots of thrills
From yon daffodils
But never could say what a turd’s worth.

Young Beowulf had some swagger
He was a great boaster and bragger
He said to his brother,
“You see Grendel’s mother?
I’ll bet you hands down I could shag 'er!”

Lady Macbeth had a plot
Alas, she got what she got
The family dog tried
To not go outside
Making her cry, “Out, damn’d Spot!!!”

BK
A gimpy old salt past his prime
Obsessed over a leviathan big time.
He called out to his crew
Because thar she blew,
And they all had a whale of a time.

DAY THREE
Literature is working, but let's expand the theme to include history, as well.

Joe
Attila the Hun threw his sandal
In fact he flew right off the handle.
“I’ll make a dread broth
From the bones of the Goths,
For my horse was spray-painted by Vandals!”

A Viking explorer named Leif
Crossed paths with a Newfoundland chief
Leif’s mouth was agape
At all the wild grapes
“I’ll call it Vinland in my brief”

Marie Antoinette laid in bed
As mobs down below chanted, “Bread!”
“Such noise they all make!
Why don’t they eat cake?
She muttered and soon lost her head.

An edict, in blistering terms
With plenty of Drangs und some Sturms
Directed at Luther
Grew quite uncouther
And said, “eat this Diet of Worms!”

BK
Not one to orate to excess,
Lincoln spoke modestly, but with finesse.
"And if you so choose
To make known your reviews,
Have them sent to my Gettysburg Address."

She'd have been a great unknown unless
She could make an element fluoresce.
Marie, ever Curie-ous,
Found her discovery injurious,
And retired to bask in the glow of success.

A captain and all-'round bad guy
Made rules crew could not abide by.
Retribution was swift,
Mutineers set him adrift,
And laughed as they waved him bye-Bligh.

If I can say this in words anapest ...
Lewis and Clark set off on a quest
To reach the far coast,
And raise a French toast:
Their Destiny clearly Manifest.

Blow'em 2022: Part 1

Well, it’s time for another Blow’em*. We haven’t done this in years!

Tonight’s Blow’em will be in Common Meter.

Common Meter consists of four lines which alternate between iambic tetrameter (four feet per line, with each foot consisting of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable) and iambic trimeter (three feet per line, with each foot consisting of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable), rhyming in the pattern a-b-a-b.

For example:

I turn to you, my Facebook friends
To join me at my game.
Combined, our talent knows no end.
Sometimes that is a shame.

So tell me what you’ve done today.
With whom did you converse?
Tell what you did at work or play
Both pleasant and perverse.

Still don’t get the hang of it? Sing it to the tune of “Amazing Grace” or “The Ballad of Gilligan’s Island.” You’ll catch on.

*Blow’em: (n.) A Blog Poem of collective authorship conceived in 2009.

BK
Some friends of mine too young before
To know about MySpace
Might feel this is a frightful chore;
They’re not that far off base.

But come on in, the water’s fine!
Let’s see what words you’ve got;
This is the chance for you to shine …
Is your brain tied in a knot?

Linda
I'll drag a phrase across the page
Attempting to be sporting
I'm not too sharp on this fine eve
My mind is out cavorting

Magnolia
My Facebook page has been restricted
Because I was a naughty girl
The Facebook Judges had convicted
So let’s give this new page a little whirl

Today I was a couch potato
Practiced Spanish, played some games
Ate my weight in barbeque slow smoke
And can only move via crane.

Brian
My Saturday's been nondescript,
But boring? Never fear!
The week was plenty exciting
That morning I hit a deer.

BK
You saw a deer in all its splendor
And you put your car in gear;
Then that deer was on your fender
Because the buck stops here.

Or did you hope to miss the thing
And try your best to swerve?
You yielded to the rights of Spring …
I’ll bet that struck a nerve.

Brian
In fact, the beast had other friends,
As four did interrupt my drive
Haha! I thought! I'd dodged the lot!
Then up sprang number five.

Linda
The bacchanal is in full swing
Conscripting to the verve
And even at our widest fling
Connecting with the serve

BK
The bacchanale is all we’ve got,
Or so it sometimes seems.
But I don’t think it’s all for naught,
I’ll settle for extremes.

Alan
You’re way better at this sort of thing
Than Terry or than I
But better to pen a bit of rhyme
Than have ketchup in the eye

BK
I’m glad you’ve joined us at our play
Although it’s after dark;
And as you know keeping ants at bay
Is definitely aardvark.

Terry
Our card game hadn’t gone down well
When I reached to move my rook,
O puddledegook and what fell hell
This line goes snippitysnook

But many a many a year ago
In a kingdom by the sea
A girl there lived who you now know
And back then that girl was me

BK
That Carroll, he spoke Jabberwack,
Face twisted with a sneer;
Withal he came galumphing back
But did so with a Lear.

BK
I must be shuffling off to bed
Because my mind is toast.
But y’all keep going in my stead;
It’s up to you, West Coast!

BK
We have another day to go
To see our wit laid bare;
And be it though pretend or faux,
It’s none of my affair.

Magnolia
Another Sunday full of chores
but it can go to heck
I'd rather lounge forevermore
And watch episodes of Star Trek

BK
To sit right back and watch some Trek,
That is a noble goal;
And though it’s cheesy and low-tech
It soothes my tortured soul.

Linda 2
Twas chilly on this Sunday morn 
which thrilled me to the core 
tho spring has sprung, the sun reborn 
I dread what is in store 

Not long till temps are in the red 
Drenched in humidity 
“You'll acclimate” they always said 
As I sweat in misery 

So now I type onto a screen 
my offering of Blow-em 
So now on Facebook to be seen 
my silly little poem

Terry
This meter, as its name implies,
Is commoner than bread.
Internal rhymes are used at times,
And some rhymes are stilt-ED. (Ted? Where's Ted?)

The Ballad of Daisy Crockett

He was born on a mountaintop and so was she,

Scrappiest gal you could ever hope to see,

He kilt him a b'ar and so did she,

He was like cheddar, and she was like brie.

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

He wore a coonskin, and she wore squirrel,

But hers was alive, she was that kind of girl,

Ever' word she spoke was diamond and pearl

And if she'd never done it, she'd give it a whirl!

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

He fought with the Injuns and she did, too,

He whipped the Creeks and she whipped the Sioux

A big misunderstanding, a day they'd rue,

She's a Boone to mankind, but she Fessed up, too.

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

She wore fancy nylons to ride the range,

He wore buckskin, they both sound strange,

Shouldn't he ride a horse and she take the stage?

The cowboys thought so, and she was all the rage.

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

That day finally come when they was wed,

They settled down on their honeymoon bed;

"Let's have us some chillun," Daisy said,

He knew what she meant and commenced blushing red.

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

She moved down to Texas with her new beau,

Moved just across the border from Mexico;

Up come Santa Anna and he had to go,

"Just remember gal, we had the Al-a-mo."

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

So Daisy was a widow at twenty-four,

But she was a woman, you should hear her roar!

She's the kind of woman cowpokes adore,

She'll take your six shooter and come back for more.

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

Daisy, Daisy Crockett, queen of the mild frontier.

Miss Me, Scooter ... Please!

(Sung to the tune of "Eating Goober Peas.")


Possum by the roadside on a Summer's day.
Started to go walking, couldn't find his way.
A motor bike came rushing; there was no time to flee,
All he could do was close his eyes and raise his voice and plea:

Please, please, please, please
Miss me, scooter, please!
Don't be so capricious,
Miss me, scooter, please!

Little possums watching, just got out of school;
Saw the scooter rushing, knew it wasn't cool.
"Ma!" one of them shouted, what's next was all a blur ...
That's right -- that great big possum was not a him, but her.

Please, please, please, please
Miss them, scooter, please!
Spare my children precious,
Miss them, scooter, please!

The bike it swerved and sped on past, possum mopped her brow.
All were as safe and sound as the traffic would allow.
I know it just sounds awesome, you'd think it would appease.
But, still they all played possum -- that was their expertise.

Please, please, please, please
Miss us, scooter, please!
The rider was judicious
And missed them all with ease.

But for certain changes, this story's real enough.
I'd never stand before you and sing a line of guff.
But still there is one fact I suppose I should confide …
I didn't swerve in time, and Mrs. Possum died.

Please, please, please, please
Miss me, scooter, please!
But, possum is nutritious
She's still in my deep freeze.
Yes, possum is delicious …
she's still in my deep freeze!

The Bear Truth

I've never seen Gummi Bears in the wood,

But I like to eat them because they’re so good.

I like the reds and the orange, the greens and the yellows,

I love to chew on those sweet little fellows!

I like the way that they stick to your teeth,

The ones on the top and the ones down beneath.

You may think Gummi Bears without merit,

Not I, by gum ... I just grin and bare it.



Another Saturday Night

Let’s do tonight’s Blow’em in Common Meter again.  We had so much fun last time.

For example:

I can think of no way better

To waste a boring night

Than cast off the chains that fetter,

Unleash my brain and write.

I turn to you, my Facebook friends

To join me at my game.

Combined, our talent knows no end.

Sometimes that is a shame.

So tell me what you’ve done today.

With whom did you converse?

Tell what you did at work or play

Both pleasant and perverse.

***

Bob

I know I’m not the only one

Alone this rainy night.

It’s only Ten! We’ve just begun!

Won’t someone join this fight?

***

Linda

I had to work this Saturday
Yet it helped to pay the bills
I hauled and swept and scrubbed for pay
and had money left for swill

... I oft times get what I need these days
And I strive to gracious be ....
There are so many times and so many ways
To my own Self ... Be Free!

Stuff still goes wrong, I will admit
Perfection isn’t gained ....
Letting go of all the bull#%@&...
is all that true remains ...

I wish that this were funnier
I’m usually good for that
please make this stream more sunnier
no split, but much more splat …

***

Bob

I am so glad you did drop in.

I was feeling lonely.

I thought I’d have to race sloe gin

But now I pace you only.

Things go wrong?  It must be so!

Your nerves, they must be frayed!

The owl’s hoot portends times of woe.

Mercury in retrograde.

***

Linda

April should get a nice gold star
for reading and at least trying
we all know she surpasses the bar
of her weariness, she ain’t lying …

***

Bob

I have known April a few years

She always gets a star.

Shame on me, I’m in arrears

I know she is bizarre.

***

George

My brain is dead, i must confess
for i can think of naught.
My rhymes are such a sorry mess
this one, on line, i bought.

***

Bob

The brain you bought will have to do

To keep your thoughts on track. …

... My brain, it wandered. Oooh!

I think I’m going to yak.

***

George

don’t worry if you go off track
or sticking to the thread.
But, i’m glad you didn’t yak
Your ’puter keys don’t need to be fed.

...(and, yeah, i know the rhythm’s off
just had to quickly say it.
and now i started this stupid throw off
and can’t finish it for ... )

***

Bob

blah blah blah blah
something about sheep
Blah blah blah blah
I’m a gonna sleep.

***

George

You must not quit now, Good Sir,
Since I’ve just joined the fray.
Alas, I fear he’s gone to sleep.
Shhhh, we’ll play another day.

***

Bob

Here we go, I’m awake again.
Let’s start where we left off.
We’ll give this thing another spin
And let the scoffers … scoff.

***

Keith

i guess i have arrived in time
to join this good pursuit.
i’m glad for that, i’m here to rhyme.
Too bad we won’t get loot.

***

George

You won’t get loot, i’m sad to say
but you get bragging rights
And if you have a horn to toot
That would be out-a-sight.

***

Keith

Of brass, no horn i have, i fear,
i never learned that skill.
But what have i for the world to hear?
On kazoo, i’m told i kill.

***

Bob

And kill you do, my little friend

No matter what you toot.

This stupid verse you do transcend

Your rhymes are quite astute.

Meter Made In Heaven

Well, it’s time for another Blow’em*. Everybody is welcome to play. Everybody who does play has his or her name added to the official “List of People Who Have Participated in Blow’ems,” and will be tagged in all future Blow’ems.

Tonight’s Blow’em will be in Common Meter.

Common Meter consists of four lines which alternate between iambic tetrameter (four feet per line, with each foot consisting of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable) and iambic trimeter (three feet per line, with each foot consisting of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable), rhyming in the pattern a-b-a-b.

For example:

I’m bored right now, be sure of that,
It is my Sunday curse.
Let’s write some stuff, ennui combat
And waste some time with verse.

It’s not real great, but it is fun …
It beats a good swift kick.
Lay on, MacDuff, we’ve just begun
So, come on make it quick!

Still don’t get the hang of it? Sing it to the tune of “Amazing Grace” or “The Ballad of Gilligan’s Island.” You’ll catch on.


*Blow’em: (n.) A Blog Poem of collective authorship conceived in 2009.

______

Linda G.
General Malaise addressed the troops
for they were in a funk
At ease he said, for he was looped
Come on, let’s all get drunk!

Linda G.
Amazing Blow’em, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was bored but now have found
this meter sets me free!

Bob
And drunk the soldiers all became
And even drunker still.
On gin or rum ’twas all the same –
The gen’ral paid the bill.

It’s not true what they always say
Ah! It makes me shiver.
A stomach’s not the Army’s way,
It travels on its liver!

(I know! You’re right! This is some fun –
I feel like I have wings!
We’ve got the doldrums on the run
With cabbages and kings!)

George
i cannot fathom the point of it all,
this poetry galore
and i think you have some gall
to make our brains so sore.

But, somehow this game intrigues
my funked out head, indeed
though i confess to being fatigued
i’ll drink and take no heed.

For drinking is my bestest friend
my dear olde, bosom pal
My woes and strife he does attend
and ever more he shall.

The writing is going down
to that i must confess
so i’ll lay here upon the ground
in this (warm) pile of my own mess.

Linda G.
By George, I think we’ve got it now
and so we raise a toast
to having fun, for knowing how
what makes us laugh the most!

George
i’m glad you’re laughing, but i for one
am crying in my beer*
for laughter i shall surely shun
as i cower in my fear.

(*beer used solely as a rhyming substitute for gin/tonic/limeade concoction.)

Bob
What’s up with you? connect the dots –
Why do you cry and cower?
Just be like me and do more shots!
Booze is my super power.

Linda F.
a weirdness came upon them then
strange lights danced in the sky
insanity or alien
or too much whiskey rye?

Linda F.
some soldiers medals heavy hung
on well-worn old lapels
much battle seen, no longer young
wise stories there to tell.

Linda F.
so gather round and grab a glass
and throw your poison back
don’t sit and wait for days to pass
the world cannot you lack

Linda F.
not only do I turn a phrase
I twist and mangle too
a sad attempt the bar to raise
please someone save me! DO!

Linda G.
Linda, indeed you raise the bar
what need have you to fret?
You honor all that’s come before
So please do NOT regret!!!!

Bob
You’re doing great, so I declare,
I’m glad to have you play.
It’s early yet, so hear my prayer,
Please don’t you go away!

There’s lots more things for us to say
In verses that transfix.
I think you’ve made my night today,
Making words do tricks.

George
that’s what i like about this Facebook thing;
we sit alone and drink
yet alkies we’re not, for we do sing*
with our friends upon the brink

(* sing is a substitution for type. sue me.)”

Linda G.
To sue George is a waste of time
No money will ensue
We drink, we type, we sing sublime
What else have we to do?

Linda F.
before is still so much of now
like rope that spans a bridge
expanding light my truest vow
to leap from ridge to ridge!

George
wow, Linda, you make it sound
like poetry to my ears
i think i’ll need another round
to bring such beauty to my fears.

Bob
I think, for me, it’s poetry
But meant more for the eyes.
I think that we can both agree
It still makes her seem wise.

George
Wise indeed, and erudite
(i’ve used a great big word)
i’m merely doing poetry lite
not soaring like a bird.

Bob
I understand, that’s why we’re here
Just for a bit of fun.
We’re not writing any Shakespeare,
It’s Doggerel 101.

Linda F.
aww shucks, I don’t know what to say
I’m speechless I believe
it’s just this kind of formal phrase
that gets it out of me.

Kristen
A poem is a useful tool,
when you’re down and out and poor –
Flashbacks of a drunken fool
who cannot find the door.

Bob
I have been down, I have been out,
And God knows that I’m poor.
It’s that drunken part that I’m about,
Supine here on the floor.

Kristen
iambic meter on sticky nights
is fun, I do agree
but though I try with all my might
I forgot I have to pee.

Linda F.
perfiddely and doogle mush
per quantum magnum zore
on hasher dancer pixen kush
for vloddenambly lore.

Bob
“I can’t understand you, love,
Because your words sound queer.
But, still, you are a cut above,”
I said it with a Lear.

Linda F.
I’m listing fast i must admit
I’m calling it a day
I really hate to have to quit
but, thanks, ’twas fun to play! :)

Bob
Good night, sweet dreams, and fare thee well!
I think the cows came home.
I must, I think, relax a spell
But thanks for all the pomes.

Diana

“Drink this potion,” she said to he
And down his throat it went
And she was glad to find that he
Found out what “blow ’em” meant.

A Barnacle Bill-y Holiday

Thread I: Main Theme


Bob
For 24 hours, everything I say online will be to the tune of “Barnacle Bill the Sailor.” Won’t you join me?


“Why would I do a thing like that?” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Why e-mail when you could chat?” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Why sing and rhyme and waste my time?
Why do you care it’s on my dime?
Now it’s your turn, so in you chime,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Linda G.
I ride the wave, I moan, I whine...
I contemplate, I take my time
So sue me for my rhymin’ crime said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Bob
“But I like the way you moan,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Your whining makes me feel at home,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Your sense of rhyme is quite astute
Despite your name and ill repute
And tongue of frog and eye of newt,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


George
i think you’re daft, i think you’re wack, i think you’re just the oddest quack.
i wonder why you have to try to put things in in this patter.
But if you want, i’ll play along, says Barnacle Bill in the white trash trailer.


April
“I’ve got poison ivy on my arms,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Tea Tree Oil has limited charms,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Lesson learned is to shake my head,
Not work outside with the man I wed.
Now a crossword puzzle then off to bed,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Bob
“I think April may have won,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“And we’d only just begun,” said Barnacle Bill the sailor.
“Boy, she nailed it out of the gate,
The kind of response I ’preciate
Time for bed? I can relate,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Linda G.
Agreed!
But tomorrow is another day ... said yada yada yada.


Bob
“I did this some years ago” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Really cheesed a girl I know,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But once I start, I cannot stop
I’ll go once more around the block
Even if it’s one o’clock,” Said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Mr. C.
“Now you’ve put me on the spot,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I cannot think when it’s so hot,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“You’ve challenged me to speak in verse,”
“The beers I’ve drunk just make it worse,”
“I only sought to slake my thirst”
“Why did you stick me with this curse?” asked Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Bob
“Welcome back, Mr. C,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Your words they mean so much to me,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I’m glad you had a lovely trip
It’s time you stopped and had a nip
Sit down to type and let ’er rip,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Who’s that mocking at your pour? Who’s that mocking at your pour?
Who’s that mocking at your pour? I don’t know because I’m fadin’.


“I guess it is beer you choose,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Me, I guess I’ll stick with booze,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“And though I might be up all night
I will write to my delight
Until I’ve quite fought the fight,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Jake
“What brought this on, i wonder?” asked Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Too much free time, lack of plunder?” asked Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But as a man of the sea
Time is never scarce to me
I’ll sing my rhymes, ’cuz i live free,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Bob
“What brought it on, indeed,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“A gallon of whiskey and too much weed,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But it really gets in your head,
It’s the strangest thread I’ve ever read,
Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Jake
“So much booze, not enough drugs,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Tap the barrel, and pass the mug,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Half a day until you land,
I’d gladly lend my helping hand,
Drink until you’re merry, man” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor


Bob
“I’ve drunk until my heart’s content,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“God bless my soul, I repent,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I swear off booze, I swear off beer,
It sounds severe, but I’m sincere,
But only ’til tonight, I fear,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Jake
“I wish you luck in that endeavor,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor
“But to lay off the juice altogether?” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor
“I’ve seen no bolder men,
For i doubt any’d begin
To try and stop sipping gin!” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor


Bob
“Lad, I think that you are right,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I don’t have a Mad Dog in this fight,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I know that I have drunken plenty,
God knows I’ve spent a pretty penny;
Why stop now? Hindsight’s 20/20,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Karla
Stop! Stop! I have work to do!!


Bob
“All good things must come to an end,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But not right now, so I contend,” Said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Each little verse, more time devours,
Each clever quip, my ego empowers,
Let’s give it just a few more hours,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


______


Thread II: FNR E-Mails


George
Jan wants to come down and do an FNR this Friday. You up for dinner and a (few) drink (s) ?


Bob
“I can make it Friday night,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I’m sure your company will delight,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But maybe I should eat before
I go and show up at your door
I’m ’fraid that’s because I’m poor,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


George
i understand your trip said BB the S
i’m in the same ship said BB the S
But something must be worked out said BB the S
or talking all night will make me shout said BB the S


i’d like to think we can make it cheap said BB the S
we’ll count our coins to see what we reap said BB the S
so our blood we won’t have to sell said BB the S
we can just eat Taco Bell. said BB the S


Bob
“I can swing Taco Bell” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“If you won’t ask, I won’t tell,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I like their beans, I like their cheese
I like their birds, I like their bees,
Their burr-itos I like to squeeze,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


George
don’t know if Jan will dig the Bell said BB the S
but something similar would be swell said BB the S
we’ll eat something yummy good
something that’s in the ’hood
and dream expensive (as if we could) said BB the S


Bob
“Could be chicken’s just as good,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“And you’ve got some in the hood,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“We’ll find something, there’s no doubt
Because that’s what we’re all about
We’ll dine in or Carie out,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


(23 more hours of this? I think I can do it.)


George
Carie’s out, that’s for sure said BB the S
she’ll be gone and can’t be lured said BB the S
So, chicken, pig, or sacred cow
we’ll maybe eat Kung Pow said BB the S


Bob
“Did you ask her really nice?” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“A simple ‘please’ will not suffice,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“We’ll play the cards that we’ve been dealt,
I hope she wears her safety belt,
Her absinthe will be keenly felt,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.




______


Thread III: Billie Holiday


Video: “Strange Fruit”; Billie Holiday


Bob
“That’s the music that I like,” It’s Barnacle Billie Holiday.
“It was good back then, it’s good today,” It’s Barnacle Billie Holiday.
“As singers go, she stands alone
She’s got soul down to the bone
God bless the child that’s got her own,” It’s Barnacle Billie Holiday.


Jan
… Bob, please write me a Barnacle Bill poem


Bob
“I’ve only got twelve hours to go,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I hope that you’ve enjoyed the show,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“This is harder than I’d guessed
But hopefully, you are impressed
For I clearly am obsessed,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Jan
Barnacle Bob, you rock!


Bob
“I guess I just have too much time,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But I’m glad to have a partner in crime,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I’m having fun, I will admit
Though I submit it’s not legit,
As poems go, it’s not worth spit,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.




______


Thread IV: Feed a Child


Bob says, “Feed a child, starve a beaver. Or is it the other way around?”


Jan
Why don’t we cook the beaver and feed it to the child?


Bob
“You obviously haven’t tasted beaver,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Or you would be a firm believer,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“And you would do what I once did
For lack of meat, God Forbid,
I married the beaver and ate the kid,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.




______


Thread V: Dating Life


Bob says, “You think your dating life is rough? Stalk a while in *my* shoes!”


Linda G.
… said Barnacle Bill the Sailor?


Bob
“I wrote that before, so it don’t count,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“As time goes by, the tensions mount,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Even though I counted sheep
I was writing these in my sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.




______


Thread VI: Good Match


Bob said, “I had a date last night. She was hot … but she didn’t strike me as a good match.”


George
... said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Bob
“I said before that was pre-wrote,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Don’t think that you can get my goat,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I’ve already done so many of these
That I crank them out with ease
In twos and threes or by degrees,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


Linda F.
Perhaps you need lighter fare


Bob
“This lady is nothing I can’t handle,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“She’s the one that lights my candle,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I’ve laid it on both loud and thick,
I know what used to do the trick,
I need someone to moisten the wick,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.




______


Thread VII: Whiz Kid


Bob says, “When I was little, they called me a whiz kid. I used to pee a lot.”


Keith
You ladies seem to be handling this one.


Bob
“On that point we both agree,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“They hold their own and so do we,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But you know I’ve just begun
I'm not one to be outdone
When it comes to number one,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.




______


Thread VIII: Main Theme Reprise


Bob
Thanks for knocking at my door! Thanks for knocking at my door!
Thanks for knocking at my door! And thank you all for playing!


“But that’s as much as I can stand,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“I think our supply exceeded demand,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“Your verses certainly did beguile,
Your doggerel has made me smile,
You can bet this goes in the file,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.


“We took a premise and wrung it dry,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“But now it’s time we said goodbye,” said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
“The idea itself was pretty tough,
And you really know your stuff,
But I, for one, have had enough” … said Abdul Abulbul Amir!