That notion, so delectable
That mankind is perfectible
Is once again respectable
And seems our current goal
We used to think divinity
Was out there past infinity
Perhaps in the vicinity
Of your immortal soul
But now we’re told perfection
For those who’re so inclined
Is nearer than it’s ever been
For it’s been redefined
We’re scolded to be perfect
By cries of the Incessants
We owe it to our neighbors
To use compact fluorescents
We owe this new utopia
To exercise for hours
We owe it to the planet
To all take shorter showers
Forget exploring oceans
Or some day visit Mars
The challenge of our lifetime
Is to all get hybrid cars
If we, in our obedience
Put out the selfish flame
We’ll turn our backs to heaven
And all will think the same
Is this the end of ice cream?
And vices that we treasure…
Is this the end of sparkling?
Is this the end of pleasure?
So down with your defiance
I recommend compliance
Join in the new alliance
And grasp the greater good
Forget what you’re pursuin’
It’s been your life’s undoin’
The past is but a ruin
See there, where it once stood.
For all your poetry needs
Sep 11, 2007
Sep 8, 2007
Reflections on Knocked Up
By Tarzana Joe
6/1/07
When I was a lad
I lived scott-free
I only cared about myself
And me
And I spelled ego with a capital “E”
And quite possibly
With a capital “G”
O!
Woe is me!
Then came 19 hundred and 93
When I asked the little lady to marry me
She said, “We’ll see.’
Then, “I agree”
Somewhat passive-aggressively
Two years later she announced to me
We’ll soon be three
Which we proudly communicated to the family
Then in the mailbox
What do I see?
The only letter my dad ever sent to m
Congratulations
You’re about to give a new life our name
PS: Your life will never be the same.
Oh, father dear. How true! How true!
And how often I misunderestimated you
Had I appreciated the changes parenthood had in store
I would have started earlier and had six more!
Now I have a lad
And he lives scott-free
And you can’t believe the joy that he brings to me
And nothing I can think of could make it better
Well, at least, until I get to write him that letter.
6/1/07
When I was a lad
I lived scott-free
I only cared about myself
And me
And I spelled ego with a capital “E”
And quite possibly
With a capital “G”
O!
Woe is me!
Then came 19 hundred and 93
When I asked the little lady to marry me
She said, “We’ll see.’
Then, “I agree”
Somewhat passive-aggressively
Two years later she announced to me
We’ll soon be three
Which we proudly communicated to the family
Then in the mailbox
What do I see?
The only letter my dad ever sent to m
Congratulations
You’re about to give a new life our name
PS: Your life will never be the same.
Oh, father dear. How true! How true!
And how often I misunderestimated you
Had I appreciated the changes parenthood had in store
I would have started earlier and had six more!
Now I have a lad
And he lives scott-free
And you can’t believe the joy that he brings to me
And nothing I can think of could make it better
Well, at least, until I get to write him that letter.
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