A Year in the Life of a Czech Plush Monkey.
Opice's Personal Poetry Page(s). All rights reserved. ©
Awaiting another inspiration.
Poised, pencil ready should a rhyme pop into his airy head.

Monkey thinks of himself as a guerrilla poet. Nothing is sacred. No rules apply. Doggerel is as worthy as haiku, sonnet, limerick, or (his hero) Dr. Seuss's verses.

"Artists take risks," he claims. "I take risks; therefore, I am a Poet."

Opice writes many types of poetry including parodies and Burma-Shave signs. Unfortunately, that company no longer advertises that way.

I never saw famed Ogden Nash
Least-wise expect to meet him.
But if I saw that dead man Nash
I fear my state would be grim.
-- "Burma-Shave"--

There once was a gamer defrocked
for breaking his role when he talked.
He dis'ed the host's snacks
which were served outta sacks
Now deep in the dungeon he's locked.
NEWEST "POEMS" SNEAK IN AT PAGE BOTTOM
Kudzu! Kudzu! Kudzu!
I think that I shall never see
a Georgia that is kudzu free.
A weed that grows a foot a day,
entang'ling all that's in its way.
And if cut down grows back to boot
while cuttings will themselves set root.

What fool braught Kadzu from Japan
I cannot guess. But that dumb plan,
has ruined much the habitat,
left forrests in a plant combat,
and fence rows drowned by twiny leaves--
homes the same from ground to eaves!

No,
I fear I'll never see the kudzu gone
(nor Burmuda grass from my front lawn).
But should the Mason Dixon line
at last be free of kudzu vine,
I hope they'd learn a lesson from it.
The South couldn't rise fast enough above it.

There was a ROHS-neech-ka*
   from Prague
Whose English translation's
   Tree Frog.
"The weather," they say,
"She predicted each day.
Till she croaked from breathing
    Prague smog!"

* Tree frog in Czech

 

Princes LEE-buu-shay* was     prescient
proof to the Czechs is self-evident
for she named "Praha" Prague
as the "threshold" she saw
to the stars (not back then) but
    the present.
*Libušé

JACK THE LAPTOP CAT
by T.S.E.
(Totally Someone Else than TS Eliot)

Jack, Jack the Laptop Cat
Likes lap naps while I type rap-tap,
When not in use claims his spot on top
Of my... HIS! …personal Laptop.

He loans it out if I scratch his neck
And am not too loud as I hunt-and-peck,
And keep email terse, docs not too big
And limit my visits to on-line sigs.*

Jack, Jack my compu-pet
Lends his paw as I surf the net,
Moves the mouse with a deft tail twitch
Then times me out by a nose nudged switch.

*SIGS = Special Interest Groups

Driver weaving freeway fast
threading cars on right passed
met another just as hurried
both no longer more our worry.
--"Burma-Shave"--
Someone upgraded my software, today
Now I can't some screens display
What worked fine before now after won't
Next time you think to help, please don't.
--"Burma-Shave"--
Her observations were perspicacious.
His driving style beyond audacious.
She watched him weave his way thru traffic
Passed on her right, results? Tragic.
--"Burma-Shave"--
I think that I shall never wanna
Poem as lovely as a banana

The fruit my hungry mouth likes best
Delicious creamy, I do attest

Poems are made by apes like me
While nanners grow in bunches free!

Turkey Haiku

With woddle and gobble
North American symbol
or shoulda been

This place meant left blank
no err here, nor a prank.
Naught goes here because
someplace else will be flaws.
--"Burma-Shave"--

Thrift Store Shopping

Pretty Plaid Plates
Off which unknown folks ate
For sale to us of 2nd hand tastes
I wan' 'em! I wan' 'em! I wan' 'em!

Beautiful Paisley Shirt
That someone once wore to work
See how amply it fits my girth!
I wan' it! I wan' it! I wan' it!

UUUUuuuu, look at this!
It's for sale just as it is.
I don't know what it does or did,
but I wan' it! I wan' it! I wan' it!

Records, records, vinyl
If bought the sale is final.
So cheap I simply want them all
I wan' 'em! I wan' 'em! I wan' 'em!

I love thrift store shops
They're filled with tempting lots
Of stuff no one should do without
Veni, vidi, Visa!*

*I came, I saw, I did a little shopping
--Caesar's Club

Turkey's Lament*

A turkey sat on a backyard fence
And he sang this sad, sad tune:
"Thanksgiving Day is coming (Gobble,gobble, gobble, gobble)
I'm going to be eaten soon!
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble,
Gobble, gobble,gobble, gobble,
I would like to run away--
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble,
I don't like Thanksgiving Day!"

*Monkey did NOT write this--don't believe him if he says he did.

 

"fledermaus" indeed.  humbug!

a bat is a bat
that much is fact
cuz the data comes back
no way are they rats
in fact
bats (get this straight)
in mammalian state
right out of the gate
as primates relate

Chiroptera everybody!

Everett Ruess by Monkey
(a limerick triplet)

#1
His prints and art showed great acuity
His journal works spoke perspicuity
But his camping skills
in Utah rills
Proved fatal incongruity

#2
His letters writ lent perspicacity
To paints and prints made with voracity
Till he vagabonded south
Toward Hole-in-the-Rock's mouth
Where nature bested his audacity

#3
With burros behind wandered he
Writing, painting, embracing beauty
He worshiped the wilds
With eyes of a child's
Then vanished, we hope, in pure glee.


-----------------------------------------------

With "whispers, sighs & thighs"
Rod McKuen po'ms writhe
Monkey's poems skip the uuuuuuus
He prefers to self amuse.
--"Burma-Shave"--

Monkey's Chemical Garden Recipe

A plastic dish, damp sponge, rough brick
(the last two broken), into first stick.

Shake NaCl atop the dish mash
sprinkle well enough to make a mishmash

In cup asside mix 4T wash Bluing
same NH4 / H20 for imbuing

Dribble the brew thru-out the dish
[(the last step needs, hours 6ish)]

Drip drops of food color here and there
not too much too close, or black they'll bare

Now wait.
and wait
and wait and wait and wait and wait

Till morning for your crystals' growth
a chemical garden you'll then boast

Vaseline glass

With Unranium dioxide
inside
sodium dioxide
glass-wide
is Vaseline glass, otherwise.

-----------------------------------------------
The Road Mistaken

(apologies to Robert Frost )

2 roads split beside a piney wood,
And sorry, I've got no time for both
So this here traveler did as should
Climbed a rock from which I could
See where each one went.

Now I'm telling this from on high
Atop my vantage a little tense
2 roads split beside a wood, and I--
Chose the one looked best from sky
And blew the other off.

Computer History Museum Muse

Speaking of "back in the day,"
Monkey spies a gen-1 Cray.

The Cray came with couch and bubbles.
One could lounge during compu-troubles
And watch the way it's bubbles burst
As they cooled it's power thirst.

The Cray was way all that back when
SuperComputers looked smart in dens
.

Epilogue:
(a fancy word for the part of the story that's after the story and explains what the story didn't)

Greeks were big on epilogues
to end a play or fable.
What was Greek to them remains to us.
Aesopian as Babel.

Monkey likes it plain and simple
so he can guess whodunit.
If complications cause confusion
he'll be the first to drub it.

Thus read it now that Monk saw naught,
the comet small and distant.
When Impact hit he felt distraught
it being scope resistant.

Therefore friends, this story ends
with Monkey out in the darkness.
There is no more to his tale of yore
Another Opice* stark mess.

*remember his name is pronounced OH-pits-ah
and he especially loves doggerel.
"The worser the better!"

A Pan-dimensional Cat
(based on Douglas Adams' mice)

A pan-dimensional cat
whose acumen was more than all that
was playing with string
a theory test thing
when it dimensioned itself 2D flat.

The bi-dimensional cat
Didn't want to stay flat
So inflationarily
It burst omni-d'rectionally
And from our perception it scat.

The End

For those who say the world will end in fire
I say set your sights a little higher.
To those who say we're doomed to ice
I say again, think twice, think thrice!
To those who go with entropy
That one's easy, wait and see.
Me?
Some day our star will swell to earth
absorbing us into its girth
But that won't be what's meant by 'end'
Be more ego-centric my dear friend.
I think the world outlasts us all
Surviving past our final fall.
And without us to mark events
It won't count.

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