P.S. A Column On Things

Ground Game/Wishcasting

I may be wishcasting (wishing combined with forecasting) but I see trouble ahead for “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

Reportedly, he is putting much more money into advertising than into his ground game. That reminds me of a story and the story (as always) is about me

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" may be surprised at how ineffective advertising is versus pressing the flesh, based on my own experience!

I once conducted a wholesale campaign (Wholesale vs. Retail Politics: UMOC Edition, more details and pictures) and discovered that personal contact rules, advertising drools.

HWMNBN may soon make the same discovery, regardless of whether anyone throws a shaving cream pie in his face like they did me.

I’m A Poet, And I Do Know It

While most of you have shown a startling indifference to my 91 poems, I am proud of them and it motivates me to write more. Or, rather, my muse motivates me to write more. I don’t know where the hell she was the first 70 years of my life, but she has been moving in and out for the last few years.

New: Pay Attention

In a departure from my usual run of love songs, I wrote what I thought was a personal song about something other than love. Vicki informs me it is a poem, not a song. I include the chorus once, rather than repeating it between verses first verse one stanza, other verses two stanzas).

When I was young
They used to say
You will miss all this someday
Their words back then
Beyond my ken.
Now I wish today was then

CHORUS
Pay attention every day
Listen close to what they say
When it’s in your rearview mirror
You’re gonna wish that it was nearer

I didn’t get what they meant.
I knew theirs was good intent.
Thought I might miss things I could touch.
I didn’t think I’d miss them much

I was right, they were too.
What would I miss? I had no clue.
Unbridled joy, fresh sensation
I never paid too much attention

Awake I lie as boredom numbs.
Sleep no longer quickly comes.
Once sleep of the dead, as some folks said,
Swept o’er me, came to my bed

Today I start to look alive
Every day at half past five
The arms of Morpheus let me go
Sleeping in? I miss it so

It isn’t people places pets
Whose loss leaves me with deep regrets
I surely miss them all and yet
I know what I would like to get
A good night’s sleep

New: Keep Your Hands Off

After seeing one too many terrible divorces on TV, in the movies (God save me from being married to a screenwriter), and among my friends, this came to me. I thought it might be a song too, but I was told it isn’t.

CHORUS:
 You’ll have to pry our kids from my cold dead hands.
You say you want to fight? Come on, let’s dance

You represent yourself, got a fool for a client.
Compared to you, my lawyer is a giant.

Everything you said in your papers was a lie.
I’m gonna fight you till the day I die.

I’m gonna take the kids and move away.
You just better not get in my way

I never asked for this. It was you that did.
Keep being a creep And I’ll flip my Lid

You don’t want the kids I can plainly see.
You’re just doing this as a way to hurt me

You think I’ll roll over? Just wait and see.
I’m gonna kick you in the ass like you kicked me

When all of this is said and done.
Turns out you’re not the only one
Who can fight dirty just wait and see
I’m gonna hurt you like you hurt me

The kids and I will own not rent
You’ll be on the street living in a tent.
Skip the alimony! what the hell?
You’re gonna be lonely in that cell

Love Poems

I have written a dozen love songs for Vicki. Holding My Heart was the first to become a song.

It was forty years ago you see.
When I found out amazingly
Her I’d picked out for my mate
Put my heart on a silver plate.
Cared for mine just like her own,
Never abused, just held on loan,
Never tried to give it back,
Never caused a break or crack.

Three Little Words eventually became Words of Love.

I love you.
Three words in English,
Two words in Spanish and Italian.
Why do I need to say them?

I profess, obsess and confess,
To move those words,
From inside me to inside you.

Do I impose?
Perhaps, I suppose.

Free Verse Love Poems

Some of my poems are free verse: Love is an Amazement (inspired by the phrase in a Garrison Keillor essay)

I have been loved deeply and completely
A few times in my life.
The experience was grand.
But as a serial monogamist,
I loved and was loved one at a time.

If You Could Read My Mind (inspired by the Gordon Lightfoot song)

I had already seen your [mind],
the night we met.
Peeping tom,
I glanced in your eyes,
and saw,
Not a void,
But a beautiful view.

First Kiss (inspired by something a friend said about her first kiss)

This was the first time
a kiss moved me,
a kiss made my toes tingle,
a kiss made the room swirl.

Jollity

Don’t Just Do Something, Stand There
Meter and Muse
Farmers Market Blues

SHEEE’S BAAACK

My Muse wandered in this morning at 6:00. Apparently she never went to sleep last night. In an unusual gesture of generosity, she did not wake me up.

I was already awake because I thought I had an early morning CAT scan. I begged her to let me go to the lab for the scan. She told me not to worry about it. When I double-checked the Kaiser website I discovered that I had long ago canceled the CAT scan; it was what I call a zombie appointment.

She dictated a poem and then skedaddled.

How Does It Feel To Wake Up? (click for whole poem)
How does it feel to wake up every morning…
…enveloped with joy and gratitude
…ensconced in the love of three wonderful women

Apparently there was an error in the horoscope factory this morning. This was Vicki’s horoscope, but she’s a Cancer and I’m a Virgo, and this horoscope is clearly mine: “Explore your creative potential this morning because you're in touch with your muse.” Or, rather, she’s in touch.

I am grateful for the 90 minutes I didn’t spend driving to and from Kaiser thanks to her suggestion that I not worry about being late―to a cancelled appointment.
Be the first reader EVER to actually go to my Poetry Corner, a list of all the poems I’ve written since I took up poetry at the turn of the century.

Right Column Redux: Poetry Index

The column to the right on this blog contains permanent content, most of which has appeared at one time or another in the main body. I’ve decided to include a reminder.

I have written a great deal of poetry. Most of it love poetry. Most of it unread outside my family.

Index of Poems

My Beat Poetry

Some would call this a rap. I think it is beat poetry, so I had it set to beat background music. In any case, it’s about growing up in Portland.

East Side Boy