My Personal World, Part 25: Open Up Old Times

I get out this album, again, and I open up old times,

Improved by melody, meter, and rhymes.

I remember the one who made my good times better,

Improved them with sympathy, laughter and letter.

I remember this one gave me understanding, stimulation

When I was at my worst, with no career or avocation.

I remember how this one served as my armor,

Protection from myself and enemies at my door.

I remember the ones who supported my foreign years,

Who forged a connection 'tween my home and my heres.

I listen and remember, or at least I try,

and I smile because I forgot how to cry.

Ketchup and Catfood

Most folks need an occasion to go out on a date.

I need only a lost fork or a broken plate,

Or cookies and bread, or a blade to shave my face

Or new lock to keep shut the gate at my place.

To put more texts on my prepaid cell,

To clear my head when I'm not thinking well,

Ketchup and catfood, or any of the above

Gets me a night out with my two-wheeled love.

Four Wheels Good, Two Wheels Better, pt. 2

Perhaps to see the road rush by,

Perhaps to feel the breeze,

To take the turn at 45

and forty-five degrees,

Perhaps to go there just for fun,

Then take the long way home,

Perhaps to seat exclusively

Wherever I may roam,

Because no jurisdiction's law

Holds traffic to its letter,

Wherever I've heard four are good,

I've found that two are better.

A Limerick Eaten by a Thesaurus

I utilize uncomplicated words when I compose,

Admitting it appears a smidgen mundane and hackneyed.

I scribble what I recognize,

Allow my rectitude to appear,

and I'm confident that I apply the words properly.

Macklemore Might or Might Not Dig It

What's wrong with wearing something gauche or passé?

Why spend down to the lint to keep a wardrobe up to date?

The answers don't suffice, because nobody really knows

What's wrong with wearing your father's old clothes.

Think about it a second, that's all it takes to realize

That the same genes might make the man the same size.

If the shoe hurts, don't you dare just grin and bear it.

If the shoe feels good, why, then it's a good idea to wear it.

Hunting the World's Most Dangerous Book

The thesaurus is a dangerous work.

Behind its calls, writers' folly does lurk.

The thesaurus might make jesters of us all.

If into its trap do we wearily fall

By mustering new talks up into the fold

And serving them as they were just like the old.

One Day a Year (I Miss Big Box Stores)

The weight of our culture's priorities

Bows many of us to our bended knees,

and one day a year turns the whole world pink.

Through rose-colored conscience, we choose not to think:

Why just one person? Why just one day?

Why mothball steadiness, friendship away?

I guess everyone, every day would be kind of demanding,

and I sure do love the candy.