Dipping skivvies in hogwash
Pig play, pretentions and lard
Our love such panache slosh
Not choking on what's not hard
No worries, I've hardly been scarred

Constraints of Mosaic law
On me leave nothing confined
For the little curled tail I saw
Once whipped, delectable find
Oh how I enjoy my swine

This little piggy went to market
While this little piggy did squeal
None the piggies found bargain
And even more piggies did steal
For an honest piggy, no deal

Oh in squalor, am I left to wallow
Greased pig be slippery catch
This all may be hard to swallow
For one pig, does another fetch
Stop me now, as I snort and kvetch

Midnight insomniac gibberish ..
House as quiet as a church mouse ..
Cheap Wal-mart clock ticking like -
'Big Ben in London town .'
Two refrigerators and a basement freezer-
making more noise than Piccadilly Circus
Old brick houses and Oak flooring make
one heck of a ruckus !
If I ever went to England I'll be ****** if I'd
ever put up with this much hocus- pocus* !

You big bonehead.

Now that Easter
Is in the offing
I’ll be searching for
What that bunny’s dropping

In nooks and crannies
He will hide
Those Easter eggs
All nicely dyed

I’ll look around
And try to find
Those eggs that are
Of a chocolate kind

For those dyed eggs
Are not for me
Cause they will stink
Eventually

I don’t search
For them no more
Cause they’re not stamped
Use best before

Those cream filled ones
Are what I seek
So when I crack them
They won’t reek
BOEMS BY JA 36

Trick me yea
Trick me nae
It is April Fool’s today
           A day of tricks
           A time for antics
           Just like those in politics
A POEM BY BAPCHA, MY LOVING WIFE

There's something going on
Between me & the poem
A reason to rhyme
A notion to float
Was it something I read
Something once wrote
That's spinning the time
Between me & the poem

As things continue to grow
Between me & the poem
Call it second sight
A perfect pitched tone
Where it has lead
Or where it's still going
I'm sure we will find
Between me & the poem

I'm holding out hope
Between me & the poem
That I'll find in time
What I already know
In all that's been said
Inside of the fold
With the shedding of light
Between me & the poem

The doctor sat before me
Said "Take your trousers off"
She reached inside my boxers
"now , turn your head and cough"

I thought this little grabfest
With her hand upon my kit
Was a little south of normal
But, I stood and did my bit

She asked me a few questions
And now me....getting rather terse
Said" I went through this already"
"out front talking to the nurse"

"I'm not sure what you're doing"
"And I do not think it's right"
"Get your hand out of my trousers"
"I'm just here to fix the light!"

I write poems that I never finish
*the end.

AH ! Choo ! My haiku !
I just blew the words away
Keep them , they're yours now .

Easter's over.
I rose to the occassn.
More than once.