I've thought of a sonnet to write
because I'm humane and poetic
'tis ode to all sapient conditions
and a species of utterly pathetic
Poems
You've plugged into something new
'tis the stuff of making men famous
your pen voice channels true center
well invoking an important thought
You're my biggest fan here now, high up on the final heap
Your poem makes me want to cry, a pantomime sad and deep
The book is a cloverleaf, that leads to my salvation
The truth of me, and of you, strapped on a pink carnation
Your last 9 paragraphs on PADI Cake, PADI Cake
read like a fame novel from a great writer's past
Your recent ode entries, soothing transmissions
shift into gears I've always known you did have
To turn that frown upside down
Put some seltzer down you pants
Be the silly jolly clown
Who delights in song and dance
To play upon seize the day
Toss those tart grapes in the bin
Be the inner child of yay!
Who takes brickbat on the chin
To get those sour grapes to croon
Let giddy whim be your guide
Be the goofy looney tune
Who lets smarting slip and slide
Your poems are winning, hitting like a blackjack 21
swishing as game ending championship 3-pointers
Emulating a one move 50 pt. Scrabble tourney score
your solid sonnets are Knights on King Queen forks
They're fresh grilled albacore w/lemon tartar sauce
a Haagen-Dazs sundae w/dollop of whipping cream
Your monumental odes tip Mt. Everest's inspiration
the rhyming kite you're flying 'tis quite high indeed!
One more day to rise and shine
Sweet grapes ripe upon the vine
Another shot to drink fine wine
Before we sink into the brine
One more day to seal the deal
Currents strong against the keel
Another dawn to take the wheel
Before we bed the bluefin reel
One more day to make the most
Clear skies bright along the coast
Another dusk to make a toast
Before we meet the on high host
Well now that's a great poem
contains both humor and joy,
and one very happy little boy
With healthy food, warm bed
the care of one strong mother
indeed quite uplifting brother
A poem a day
Meat for the mind
A bit of prose
Oft set to rhyme
A poem a day
Perhaps one more
Off and on three
Or even four
A poem a day
Sway for the soul
A pinch of pap
Words on a roll
A poem a day
Most fruitful bread
Fit comfort food
For pith well fed
Karen began with the Rhoades Brothers,
back in the California Republicans of '73
"Tourists go home!" Peter cries cynically
he shouts it proudly, lips curling his glee
'Pon road rages in a fast-food fight,
big coliseum riot two wrongs right
at the drop of hat over no big thing
fisticuffs before we step in the ring
Sucker punch at a drunk bars stool
while Mr. T escalates I pity the fool
Karens and Kens aping rant videos
rotting to the core this reality show
