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Grizzo Mar 2015
Poetry, the attunement of syllables,
harsh sounds, soft sounds,
rhythmic stanzas
pleasing to the iris,
sound waves to the ear
drums invite Neurons
to experience ecstasy.
They celebrate in unison,
shouts of cheer, roars of joy,
electric screams of fulfillment.
Some pass out in disbelief,
others wave handkerchiefs
in the air and shout
Yes, that’s right!

While somewhere in the limbic
system, the other side
of the hemisphere they whisper,
*No, that’s not what we meant at all.
Phil Lindsey Mar 2015
On January 20th, according to police and CBSChicago website, a 40 year old Algonquin, Illinois woman shot her 50” Panasonic flat screen TV with a rifle while her 3 children watched.  She didn’t like what they were watching and she thought they watched too much TV in general.  Makes complete sense to me.  I mean if you just unplugged it those **** kids would probably just plug it in again.   Elvis also used to shoot TVs.  Allegedly the King would grab a handy pistol and shoot out the TV every time Robert Goulet was on.  He probably had to be a better shot than the lady from Algonquin.  I don’t think they had 50” flat screens back then.

Seems like the Boss couldn’t find anything worth watching on TV:

So I bought a .44 magnum, it was solid steel cast,
And in the blessed name of Elvis, well, I just let it blast,
'Til my TV lay in pieces there at my feet,
And they busted me for disturbing the almighty peace.
—Bruce Springsteen, "57 Channels (And Nothin' On)"

Who could forget Henry John Deutschendorf, Jr.’***** song about finding peace?

Blow up your TV, throw away your paper, go to the country, build you a home.

Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try and find Jesus on your own.

Come on, EVERYBODY knows John Denver’s real name!

So it wasn’t like the lady from Algonquin, Illinois was hearing voices or anything crazy like that.  These were real people telling her what had to be done.  I mean there was PRECEDENT set!

And I think that maybe the lady, though a bit extreme, and now answering to DCFS, is onto something.  Maybe TV is the source of all the world’s problems and unrest.  Maybe we should all exercise our God Given right to bear arms (hold off there big fella, that’s a whole nuther issue).  Maybe we should all just unplug the TVs for an hour or a day or a week or a month, and see what happens?!  World Peace?

Well I know that this is a poetry site, and except for some lyrics from a couple of old songs I haven’t written any poetry, so here goes:

Better OFF

Tonight I turned the TV off.
And it was better off.
And I was better off.

I called my daughter asked her how she was and we talked for an hour ‘bout stuff.
I told her I loved her and she said it back and the emotion was real enough.

And my son called from Texas, said his car needed a tire and he asked me what I thought he should do.
So I asked him if he had a usable spare, he said no, I said better buy two.

Then I made me a sandwich (the TV still off!) and I picked up a book and I READ!!
The plot started to thicken, my pulse started to quicken, but by then it was near time for bed.

So I didn’t watch ‘Wheel’ and I didn’t watch news and I didn’t watch Late Night at all.
I didn’t watch weather, though through the window, I could see the snow starting to fall.
I didn’t watch Stars Dance on anyone’s toes, didn’t watch ******* give some girl a rose.  
Didn’t watch re-runs of sit-coms I’ve seen, and I didn’t watch Judy the Judge being mean.

Tonight I turned the TV off.
And it was better off.
And I was better off.
I live 10 or so miles from Algonquin, Illinois (I don't know the lady) and heard the news as I was driving.  Struck me as something that will eventually show up on Saturday Night Live.  And I thought it needed writing about.  :-)
Ottar Mar 2015
Creeps the stench into the room,
Through an open door, our doom,

Oily sticky sour smell,
Ain't Heaven must be hell,

Large grow-op cannot be far,
Perhaps a skunk versus a car?

Peace and quiet taken for a oneway ride,
As there is now a stink, high on Eventide,

It has come in.
Tide of a certain breed
Phil Lindsey Mar 2015
"Do your poems always rhyme?", she asked. "No, he answered."
To be honest, before I joined this site I didn't know there were such things as 10 word poems.  When I told my daughter, Keri, that I was going to post "her" poem on the site, she asked me if my poems always rhymed.  So I answered her.  :-)
Phil Lindsey Mar 2015
On the last day of school
Rings final bell
Hop on our bicycles
Pedal like Hell
Down to the ball field
Perhaps the town square
It didn’t matter
Our friends would be there.

All joking and laughing
Some cussing out loud
No teacher to hear us
Impressing our crowd
Pitching some pennies
Buying ice cream and pop
Only curfews and darkness
Could make this all stop.

See’ya tomorrow!
Goin’ down to the pool?
Yeah ANYthing’s better
Than goin’ to school
I have to work
Man that’s a ******
Nothing was better
Than the first day of summer!
PwL 3/24/15
Graff1980 Mar 2015
Vice and debauchery are highly underrated
Underestimated by outdated modes of morality
But pleasure is the friend that chases away banality
Fights off the finality
We face existing in this space
Walking pounds of space dust
Apes we sprang from
Came upon some fun
Knew what is now forgotten
By some
You can’t buy one
Moment back
Before vision is blotted black
The spotted fact
That all we lack
Is fun
Forgotten in the rush to work
The race to hurt spirits
By contorting our flesh and mind
To the clock that kills our time
I am still feeling fine
But tell me how are you
Emanuel Mar 2015
What do I like to do for fun?
Well for one, make groovy rhythms
Chillin' feelings so surrealing
Make my mind dissipate

The concrete floor gives way in time
Here is not where I base my rhyme.
The living spirit Free and True
Is the only thing I can give to you.

Keep em' guessing, keep unstressing
Watch the flow of life in jest
The seriousness I do detest
When life is mistaken for the manifest.
Phil Lindsey Mar 2015
‘Twas the start of March Madness,
And all through the land,
People sat by the TV
With pencils in hand.

The committee had chosen the teams with great care
And everyone hoped their Alma Mater was there.
The teams were selected and placed into regions
With top seeds rewarded for having good seasons.

Badger fans from Wisconsin were
All dressed in Red
With Final Four visions
Dancing  ‘round in their heads.

Kentucky fans claimed
(As they most always do)
The Championship would go
To their Wildcats in blue.

The Blue Devils from Durham
Were also quite hot
And the Duke fans were certain
They would win the top spot.

‘Nova fans were excited; their hopes are alive!
Remember the upset?  1985
An 8-seed back then, this year they're a One!
Villanova Wildcat fans are sure to have fun! xxxxxxx already done.

Now the ‘play-ins’ are over.
But I’m not sure who won
Doesn't matter, the winner
Will be trounced by a One.

I, with cold beer and my bracket,
Settle down in a chair
I’ve picked all the games
Now I’ll see how they fare.

Now Badgers, Now Boilers,
Now Hawkeyes and Bucks,
On Hoosiers, On Hoyas,
On Shockers, and Ducks
Go Flyers, Go Sooners, Come On Musketeers!
Go Cardinals, Go Cowboys….   Gonna need some more beers.

Then all of a sudden arose such a clatter
On the tube Sir Charles was starting to chatter.
“I’m the Round Mound of Rebound, - there’s no one like me!”
“Watch all my commercials, NCAA on TV!”

From Thursday through Sunday
On to Sweet Sixteen,
Elite Eight, Final Four and
All the games in between.
The nation is watching from East Coast to West
Which of the 60+ teams will be best.
With OTs and upsets and a blowout or two,
I am glued to the TV and
I’ll bet so are you.

I closed my eyes for a second, and then fell asleep

But was quickly awakened by my doorbell's loud beep,

And what, to my wondering eyes should appear?

But Sir Charles himself;
 And he asks for a beer!

"I'm not a role model, I just like to dunk.

I took a look at your bracket, and
Most all your picks stunk!"
I turned to ask him to fix it,
But he'd disappeared.
Yes, Sir Charles was gone,

And so was my beer!

Now my bracket is busted,
I’m all out of beer
Merry Madness to all,
I will see you next year!

"A Visit from St. Nicholas", also known as "The Night Before Christmas" and " ' Twas the Night Before Christmas" from its first line, is a poem first published anonymously in 1823, and later attributed to Clement Clarke Moore, who acknowledged authorship in 1837.   from Wikipedia.

Unfortunately, Mr. Moore never had the chance to experience March Madness.  :-)
Just for the record, my daughter graduated from University of Wisconsin, need I say more?
Every day is Grandparents' Day
when you sit outside and watch them run
play, kick ball, laugh and cheer
it makes it all worthwhile
their loving smiles
their joyous laughter
hoola hoops
somersaults that soon
become full handstands
and cartwheels

Have you ever watched the ball game
if not, you need to go out back
and root for your favorite team
or even kick a ball or two with them
oh, but it's worth every minute
the joys, the smiles...
they're not always the children's
but it's definitely Grandparents' Day
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