Dennis Doyle, a barrister,
gave up his job upon a whim.
Now what to do? A quest!
A quest he would begin.
A lifelong fan of the New York Knicks
He'd follow them home and away!
Tickets were a big expense
=Twenty five thousand he would pay.
Then there would be planes to catch,
food and hotels along the way.
He'd sit and cheer his heroes on!
Each night he'd watch Carmelo play.
Too soon, the losses began to mount;
he watched the season slip away.
It takes a special sort of soul
to sit and watch this team at play;
to seize defeat from victory ,
the Knicks would surely find a way.
To qualify for a high pick
they traded half the team away.

Each night He'd sit and glumly watch
This team that will not win a ring.
Is it all worth it? Who can say?
For the true fan, the play's the thing!

He’s number Fourteen in your program,
“Mr. Cub” to long suffering fans.
Ernie Banks was a soft spoken guy
who launched many ***** in the stands.
A true hero who led by example;
the face of the franchise, in fact.
He never did play in the Series
and there is some sadness in that.
Yet today is a great day for baseball
in the heavenly precincts above.
I’m sure, just like you,
That they’re bound to play two
Once Ernie has tossed down his glove

It’s the week before the Super Bowl,
where the Patriots and Sea hawks will meet,
and all that folks are talking about
is Bill and Tom’s softball deceit.

It’s cold up North this time of year
when the Patriots made their playoff run.
Snow and ice require gloves;
If footballs slip, they’d be undone.

“Taking the air out of the ball”
Once referred to the running game.
Deflated ***** are easy to grip
But it’s cheating, that much is plain.

It seems the ***** that Brady used
spiraled nicely through the rain.
When you ***** are small and soft,
Like Brady’s, it’s a different game.

When Tom was asked about the scheme
He laughed at first and wouldn’t tell.
The truth about Tom Brady’s *****
is closely guarded by Gisele.

When the bees are all silenced
By Glyphosate laced grains.
When our waste and our garbage
Are choking sea lanes.
When the stocks are fished out
and the oceans then die.
When the struggle for life
Is once more eye for eye.
Is it too late to ask
Why we’re consumed with hate?
Why, for sake of a buck,
A planet was *****?
It’s three minutes to midnight
on the doomsday clock.
We’ve not much time left folks

TICK TOCK< TICK TOCK

We are different, you and I.
You are so focused and contained.
I am loud and unrestrained.
You are never not on time
while I’ve been known to trail behind.
You are practically fashion’s slave
while I am grunge and barely shave.
How did we stick, what is the glue,
That inseparably binds me to you?
It is Love that stakes its claim
for two friends cannot remain
Two friends and still stay sane
If they are not accepting of
The failings of the one they love.

At Eighteen degrees with a wind chill of three,
Beneath several blankets is where you’ll find me!
With a scotch on my nightstand (to ward off the chill)
Old Man Winter can blow but he’ll do me no ill.
When the forecast is lousy and grey snow clouds threaten
My lamb’s wool lined comforter I won’t be forgetting.
In my all flannel onesies (with the flap in the rear)
I’m sure I can hold out until Spring is near.

It started with Adam, the father of all
He and Eve had no last names that I can recall.
While the man tribe stayed small there was really no need
One name was sufficient to distinguish indeed.
Yet, as we expanded, this soon came undone
As every man Jack was some father’s son.
Cicero, Caesar and Pompey, those Romans
Were known as just that; nick-names, patrynomens
Rembrandt and Picasso those giants of art
probably had two names when they got their start.
Elvis and Dion were stars in the fifties.
Liberace was too with his style none too thrifty.
From Cher to Madonna Fame’s admission fee
was becoming Mononymous to the bourgeoisie.
So Adele and Miley revel in this;
Fame’s a fabulous ride and it’s not to be missed.
There’s money involved and a lot of acclaim
And best of all people remember your name.