The Dish Twas Fish

Hook, line and swimmer

Said the sailor seated ashore

For the bait out flung deep

Did pull like fate’s damned tour

Twas a free floater

Twas a clam unchained

Twas health and hale

Twas–now, never the same

Yet while it was

So valiant it flopped

Though beyond the mare

Its strives ner did stop

Yet Fisher hearty did

with heave and hoe

Reeled the line stiff

Yankin the piscine foe

So to shore sent

Flew the fry to be gutted

Suspended as flame lent

Savory succulence encrusted

Hook, line and dinner

Remarked Fisher belly rotund

Twas ere a tasty delight

Twas–now, barely a burp resound


The Ends to which Some Err

At the last, summer tends

Ah lass a cool wind strolleth

As now fall brewing rends

Amber where green once showeth

Hold tightly and bewail

For delight will soon fade

Drafts waft in and prevail

Impelling us into shade

Alas does the summer ends

When warmths cooly did groweth

And now fall sadly tends

Winds, with which winters snoweth

By All That is Holey and Swiss

Vir et arma mihi cantanda erunt, sed o musae, caseum hoc est bonum!

–Marciel Atopodmas,  Quid Caseus Desiderium Tuum Est?

By all that is holey and swiss


Oh have we lost our whey

censured as cheddar charged

cheese blued into the fray

string ascended, feta barged

Deranged thoughts fired fly

as chutes provolone puffs drift  

yet thoughts interjected vie

thus poofs err down swift

With this cerebral hall assailed

Neurons electric rage with ire

against tyrant tyros derision veiled

velveeta bathing the ivory spire

Yet the bulbous light doth shine

defying mozzarella balled forth

for within its glow eurekas opine

thus cheese falls rendered dwarf

baybels ascend walls grappled

katanas bared they snack in

but  the waxed ninja are mangled

as the mind’s shifting gears spin

as white sticks glide over

thoughts brave arise

interjections opposing

cogitating the whys

We wanted to speak

letting ideas lofty contend

But the Limburger’s out

now souls tormented wend

But even held in the brie

thoughts aspire, affirming

for hope is only delayed

as the mice, the mice are coming! 

Sleepy Music

With a rhythmic ruse

Doth my gentle muse

my set focus skews

as a poem she cues


thus stanzas here ooze

as verses she doth fuse

shaping shiftly the hues

shadows glistening she brews


thus when I wish to snooze

with thoughts flowing doth she abuse

her poet dear, sleep she doth excuse

but with discordant verses she imbues


So with coffee, ideas will amuse

as a shy vimful lyric accrues

Sleep feints, as rhythms perfuse

thus nightly the fight continues . . .

So Poet Wonder


sensei shy guy.png
Click to see a bigger version!


A fire burned, cauldron fright

A world yearned, raging might

A mind turned, thinking bright

Yet a law spurned, destroying light


For it was night, the poet amused

In the darkness, ideas livid enthused

They screamed lunacy, such laws accused

Disconcerted, ideas vivid slept unused


Poet lies bemused, haltered arts stay

Vibrant in darkness yet dim during day

Stary, the muse sings , a nightly fay

Guiding her poet, in her lunar sway


Thus poet stray, these laws not hold thee

Dive, stroke hard against that strifeful sea

Moon above, create, let worlds witted be

Sleep is for the mourning, so dry that coffee

See, These Ships Sink

These ships are sinking, we must find a shore secure

Sure, these boats have carried us as is known in lore

Yet these husks are rotten, brim ragged of holes

Sending these sculls to depths, drowning all clinging souls


So save our souls, in a meaning clear

Amend our ardor, truth without smear

Rescue our reason, rend rectitude right

Salvage our spirit, redeem us from the trite


On these waters, we words once meant something

Yet these swells of culture were sadly perverting

So on these oceans of life, new words must sail anew

For under these depths, we must sleep dead, there accrue

Busy by a Bee

Arrested by imbued grandeur’s glands 

As by a buzz I was stung you see

Nerved to rave, weaving strands

worths verbose, all this by a bee

For that fury desired for me

To write in a wry array

That pollen packer set free

That which would stay

Dear Apis aptly, stare 

See melius melior be

Yet for chap’s sake fair

Leave me instigation free