Friday, September 22, 2017

x

by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"





x was a human
who lived in a tree
was not you
and was not me

walked at night
down highways gray
slept in the fields
at break of day

folks thought they
had x’s measure
that x had a secret
buried treasure

no one knows
where x has gone
the rain falls down
where the sun once shone



Saturday, August 19, 2017

the worst story



by horace p sternwall





i was walking down euston road when i was suddenly confronted by sinclair, usually the most undemonstrative of men.

“have you heard about tremayne?” he blurted out.

“why no, “ i replied. “i have not heard anything about tremayne. what is there to hear?”

“it’s dreadful! “ sinclair exclaimed. “positively dreadful1 the worst story in the history of the world.”

i hardly knew what to say to that, but before i could summon up a response, sinclair went on, “meet me at the club tonight and i will tell you all about it.”

“i will be sure to do that,” i replied, and sinclair went on his way.

leaving me in a state of some small curiosity, though, truth be told, i hardly knew tremayne, or had given him any thought since our schooldays.

the night was a dark and rainy one, and i set myself beside the fire at the club with a stiff brandy, and waited for sinclair.

but he did not show up, and as the fire burned low and was replenished and burned low again, i fell sleep in the chair.

when i awoke, i was assured by the steward that sinclair had not shown up.

so far as i knew, tremayne was not a member of the club, and when i enquired i was assured that no such gentleman was known to the staff or had made an appearance.

i went back the next two nights, with similar results, though on neither night did i wait quite so long for my unpunctual storyteller.

in fact, i never heard from or of sinclair again, or learned the dreadful fate of the unfortunate tremayne.

i did, however, develop a slight stiffness in my lower back, which i have never entirely lost.



Wednesday, August 16, 2017

poem 300


by corinne delmonico




sometimes i wonder
why i am on this earth
my mom was not a virgin
not even at my birth

my dad was not the lightning
and on a mountain did not live
and words of truth and wisdom
he had but few to give

the people that i lived with
woke up every day
but exactly why they did that
they really could not say

they ate cheeseburgers and donuts
but did not make their own
without dunkin and mcdonalds
they would be skin and bone

they had 5000 channels
to watch on the tv
on exactly what to watch and when
they did not always agree

if they had been neanderthals
or monkeys in a tree
or wanderers in the desert
would they have been more free?

o wise men in your think tanks
and sages in seminars
think of the lonely prairie dog
beneath the disappearing stars



Tuesday, August 15, 2017

poem 200


by corinne delmonico




this is a poem
that by myself i wrote
david was just a little boy
but big goliath he smote

joshua blew his trumpet
against the canaanites
he practiced through the night and day
until he got it right

cleopatra ruled the world
and floated down the nile
she could have lived forever
but got tired after a while

henry viii was a mighty man
and liked his roasts well done
he wanted a true and loyal wife
but had trouble finding one

billy the kid was a killer
with a price upon his head
he always knelt and said his prayers
before he went to bed

some lucky folks are famous
and songs about them sung
but most are soon forgotten
and some born to be hung

i am sitting in the raindrops
feeling so forlorn
i really need somebody
to blame for being born



Thursday, August 10, 2017

dream


by corinne delmonico




i had a dream last night

the party was over

the other guests had all gone home
the host had retired to his study

i went for a walk in the garden
under a full moon

the garden was filled with statues

there was a statue of alexander the great
weeping at the river
weeping at the river forever

there was a statue of pharoah’s daughter
discovering little moses
discovering little moses forever

and joshua blowing his trumpet
fighting the battle of jericho
with the walls tumbling down forever

and lincoln in his top hat
freeing the slaves
freeing the slaves forever

it started to rain
so i stopped looking at the statues
and went inside

the house was filled with corridors
long corridors
long corridors lined with pictures

there was a picture of jesse james
getting shot in the back by bob ford
getting shot in the back by that dirty little coward forever

and edmond dantes diving under the water
finding the treasure
finding endless wealth forever

and orville wright
flying the first plane at kitty hawk
flying through the foggy air forever

and delilah cutting samson’s hair
while the poor boy slept like a baby
slept like a baby forever

and robert e lee at appomatox
surrendering to grant
handing his sword to grant forever

and dracula outside the window
looking in at lucy
looking in at sweet lucy with his glowing eyes forever

and teddy roosevelt at san juan hill
charging up san juan hill
charging up the hill forever

and lindbergh riding down broadway in an open limousine
being cheered by the crowd
being cheered by the crowd on broadway forever

and anne frank in her attic
writing in her diary writing in her diary forever

and oswald getting shot
getting shot by jack ruby
getting shot by jack ruby forever

all these people with their stories
doing things in their stories
doing them forever

everybody doing things forever
living forever
doing their things forever

everybody except me

because i am going to die some day

sad!


Wednesday, August 9, 2017

102


by corinne delmonico




nobody knows my name and rules the world
they rule the world because they know my name
but i have no name

orangutans live in the trees
they have long arms that hang down sadly
sadly among the disappearing leaves

pomegranates are referenced in poems
but nobody really eats them
have you ever eaten a pomegranate?

at night the earth is quiet
but not as quiet as it used to be
before you all came along

robin hood robbed the rich to give to the poor
but kept a little for himself
because he had to eat

samson was big and strong and loved delilah
he loved delilah because he was big and strong
but no good came of it

turtles live a long time
longer than mosquitoes or tigers or humans
but they don’t go anywhere much

uncle john kept his pants up with a suspender
a single suspender held on with a button
i swear he did

the possums came out at night in old virginia
by the light of the moon in old virginia
and ate the watermelons

woodrow wilson wore a top hat
he wore a top hat because he was woodrow wilson
when he took it off he was not woodrow wilson any more

expect the best and you will get nothing
expect nothing and you will get something
your mother expects you for dinner

a lonely youth sits in a lonely room
he is lonely because he is a youth
and his true love is only a dream

zebras share the earth with humans
but do not really care much for them
and wish they would go back to their own planet



Tuesday, August 8, 2017

101


by corinne delmonico





ali is a muslim and plants bombs in cars
he plants bombs in cars because he is a muslim
all muslims plant bombs in cars

bud is an african american man and holds up liquor stores
he holds up liquor stores because he is an african american man
all african american men hold up liquor stores

hillary clinton was a woman and ran for president
she ran for president because she was a woman
all women run for president

donald trump is a white man and was elected president
he was elected president because he is a white man
all white men are elected president

einstein was a scientist and smoked a pipe
he smoked a pipe because he was a scientist
all scientists smoke pipes

frank sinatra was italian and sold a lot of records
he sold a lot of records because he was italian
all italians sell a lot of records

gorgeous george had long blond curls and everybody hated him
everybody hated him because he had long blond curls
george thought of himself as a pretty nice guy

hitler was a bad person and had a little mustache
he kept it neatly trimmed all the time
but sometimes his hair fell down over his forehead

i am a nice person
i wish people liked me more
i wish people liked me more because i am a nice person

joe dimaggio was a strange man and played baseball
he played baseball because he was a strange man
all strange men play baseball

jack kerouac had a cool name and went on the road
he went on the road because he had a cool name
he didn’t care if it rained or snowed

leonardo da vinci was a genius and lived a long time ago
he lived a long time ago because he was a genius
all people who lived a long time ago were geniuses

marilyn monroe was a human female and a sex goddess
she was a sex goddess because she was a human female
all human females are sex goddesses