"kazoo" poems
Over a cup of morning java
Scanning my daily mail
I came upon an advertisement sheet
*That exclaimed in BOLD rainbow pastel*
Grand opening of a store that has everything
On the corner of Daisy and William Tell
The one thing I saw that interested me
Is they were having a back to "60's" Hippie sale
Of course I stopped what it was I was doing
Hopped in my Lexus and left right away
The excitement had my heart all in a flutter
This I guarantee is going to be a good day
They weren't kidding when they said they sold it all
I'd been wandering the store for quite a while
That's when I came to what it was I had come here for
Before me in trippy little colors, the hippie aisle
So I bought me a couple colorful hippies
With my 25% coupon I was able to save
The Hippies even came with a bonus
Fresh cut flowers and Jefferson Airplane tapes
When I got home I showed them to their room
Black light posters and colored beads hung from the door
As luck would have it I bought an Indian hemp rug
From Pier One just the day before
They taught me transcendental meditation
While I taught them both how to bathe
Their lessons broadened the mind
My lessons the nostrils saved
I soon had a groovy little hippie pad
In which organic vegetables and enlightenment grew
We'd sit around crossed legged in a purple haze at night
Playing psychedelic tunes on our Kazoo's
And I was pretty good too! Who Knew!
Yes, a house of happy hippies
Is a happy hippie house indeed
Especially when Wendy Crystal Sky...Yes, that's her name
Brews her famous dandelion tea
I highly recommend the purchase of hippies
I couldn't be any happier with mine
Sure beats the punk rockers I got on close out last year
But that my friend is another tale for another time...
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 6:48 AM UTC
The color of calm,
Sound of a blue canvas.
All the shades of ease,
Cover me in blue.
It's not cold,
Or sad.
It wraps me up,
And whispers to me.
How soft,
How silent.
There's loud silence,
And quiet.
The loud lives in my shaking hands.
But keeps me unable to speak,
Only loud inside my sewn mouth.
The quiet will not restrict my words,
But leaves me without any at all.
The quiet slows my heart,
The quiet keeps me still.
Sends silence through my veins,
And all is blue.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
“The executioner’s face is always well hidden”
a Bob Dylan lyric
<>
mine own “ex,” in chest encased, silent, with grimacing smile,
happy to be of sir-vice, sent home unhappy, cause his cut,
not quite deep enough
this time,
though nearly succeeded,
but his biz is an-all-or-none inclusive Swifty tour, disillusioned,
he don’t get paid unless he brings my punched ticket to a glorious
sadness conclusion
someone asked (axed in local accent) if I’m nearer my god
having survived despite my best efforts at self destruction,
to which I’m smiling when uttering a “heartfelt prayer” of
Hell No!
cause the channel always been open and either side can initiate when so desired, the gates of love always open,
so wasn’t surprised when playing with my matches,
he went silent, but knew fully well, Mr. G a risk taker,
put his roulette chips on a “basket bet,” (1)
needing a double 00, to collect,
because, shoot, the timing was good…
Me?
ain’t naive enough to hope that a prayerful request
would not be met with a “now you want some intercession?”
and a heavenly sneer, cause we always been perfectly clear,
with each other, ask and you won’t receive, and none of that
what have you done for me lately razzamatazz,
nah, the record impurities gray
and no pencil erasures allowed…
knowing that the executioner will be back’ round someday,
my wounded heart too tempting to pass up twice, and
that’s ok, this old man learned to live with
a not entirely pleasant uncertainty,
*”This old man, he played one,
He played knick-knack on my thumb;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.”*
but he didn’t play two, having no kazoo!
Sep 5, 2023
Sep 5, 2023 at 12:24 PM UTC
Over a cup of morning java
Scanning my daily mail
I came upon an advertisement sheet
That exclaimed in BOLD rainbow pastel
Grand opening of a store that has everything
On the corner of Daisy and William Tell
The one thing I saw that interested me
Is they were having a back to "60's" Hippie sale
Of course I stopped what it was I was doing
Hopped in my Lexus and left right away
The excitement had my heart all in a flutter
This I guarantee is going to be a good day
They weren't kidding when they said they sold it all
I'd been wandering the store for quite a while
That's when I came to what it was I had come here for
Before me in trippy little colors, the hippie aisle
So I bought me a couple colorful hippies
With my 25% coupon I was able to save
The Hippies even came with a bonus
Fresh cut flowers and Jefferson Airplane tapes
When I got home I showed them to their room
Black light posters and colored beads hung from the door
As luck would have it I bought an Indian hemp rug
From Pier One just the day before
They taught me transcendental meditation
While I taught them both how to bathe
Their lessons broadened the mind
My lessons the nostrils saved
I soon had a groovy little hippie pad
In which organic vegetables and enlightenment grew
We'd sit around crossed legged in a purple haze at night
Playing psychedelic tunes on our Kazoo's
And I was pretty good too! Who Knew!
Yes, a house of happy hippies
Is a happy hippie house indeed
Especially when Wendy Crystal Sky...Yes, that's her name
Brews her famous dandelion tea
I highly recommend the purchase of hippies
I couldn't be any happier with mine
Sure beats the punk rockers I got on close out last year
But that my friend is another tale for another time...
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 6:01 AM UTC
*In mouth, put-
choo-choo kazoo chomp chomp YUM!
Mmmm MMMMMMmmm.
Whosagoodbaby!?
Whosagoodbaby!?*
The infant hears,
wondering if all adults talk this way,
chuckling to himself, the ridiculousness tickling his vibrating mind
looking on at the goofy giant babbling gibberish
who seems oddly ecstatic
to feed colorful mush.
The child contemplates the intricacies of communicating
the smelly in his shorts.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
****** a ***** in Timbuktu
Rode her all the way to Kalamazoo
Told to ***** to blow my kazoo
And I'd shove my finger in her tutu
I wish all of this we're true
The only ******* I get say moo
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
zappa blows cartoon music
out of a cerulean blue kazoo
in my kitchen while i
eat greasy cold pizza
out of a crusty cardboard box
& marcus the kitten gnaws
on my sock ankle achilles
& it's in moments like this
that i'm a-ok with being alone
my **** could stay soft for the
rest of my life no problemo
i'm beautiful alone i tell myself
out loud & marcus stops chewing
acts like he understands me
but i know it's only
temporary this feeling of adequacy
& full-time fulfillment tomorrow
i'll wake up cold & lonely again
& pining for smooth thighs
& butterflies
& a girl whose best friend committed suicide
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
OK. Today may be dull. It happens. Sure.
But tomorrow remains rife with possibilities.
Podcasts of Trump on on the value of modesty.
Street fights in several extinct languages.
Hillary wins at Detroit poetry slam.
Jihadists explode poodles in crosswalks.
Island countries wave & grin as they sink.
***** flicks found starring Merkel and Putin.
A sane, reasonable presidential election.
Angry cats with opposable thumbs rebel.
Men & women speaking & understanding each other.
Brock Turner announces *** change operation.
God announces: No More Mulligans!
Gender wars conclude. Everyone’s dead.
Debut of lost Bach Partita for Electric Kazoo.
New, hip-hop production of Treblinka: The Musical.
Shakespeare cloned. Buys poetry anthology. Dies.
End-up, instead of start-up, launches in Palo Alto.
Smart phones install apps with annoying ads on users.
Common sense becomes common again.
Victimless rhymes decriminalized.
This is America! Never two dull days.
Take Heart! Tomorrow, there be Wonders…
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 10:04 AM UTC
Growing up I always had
Some very special friends
Where we shared in everything
Even our love for Heavy Death Metal Bands
But every time one of us
Pick up an instrument
Whether banging, blowing, or strumming
We never made a lick of sense
That is until we found the jewel
That we all could play
Which turned around our tender lives
And tenderized us all that day
Now we travel the country side
With our own road crew
In a Heavy Death Metal Band
Where we all play Kazoo's
The very first Kazoo's we purchased
Came from the Five & Dime
But were able to throw down for the better stuff
Once our careers all started to climb
Now when we step out into the lights
Taking center stage
It's worth the pain in our vibrating lips
To see adoration on a groupies face
And playing lead Kazoo
Isn't as easy as it looks
You've got to hold your lips just right
To come up with those major hooks
We used to open up for other Metal Bands
Like AC/DC and Metallica
Pretty soon though our style passed them by
Leaving those sissies in top 40 dust
Because next to us they played soft rock
And when your "Axe" is a killer Kazoo
The others stand around dumb founded
With no clue of what to do
Don't get me wrong this rock and roll road
Isn't always paved in gold
Day in and day out in a Kazoo Death Metal Band
Can take away your very soul...
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
I might be a few years to late
As this has been decades in the making
But I'm going through with a commune
To give a few hippies something to do
So I wrote an ad, put it on a list
They say this guy Craig is the best
Now my yard is filled with hippies by the score
Or would the proper way be to say hippies galore
I hurried them all into the house
It wouldn't do for the neighbors to find this out
I set up booths in different rooms
I handed out name tags and colorful kazoo's
Don't let it be said I run a shabby commune
You gotta keep the hippies happy in all you do
That's why I have a calendar of special events
From karaoke kazoo to rug making with hemp
On Tuesday's we basket weave, Wednesday's we kite
But never in the day as hippies burn in the light
(Or is that Vampires...scratch that, that may not be right)
I even hired a Jerry Garcia look a like
To call out the numbers on Bingo night
All this hard work hasn't gone for not
Communes and Jefferson Airplane tunes last week called me up
They'd like to feature me in their magazine
A full page article on living the dream
Where I can help others to have their very on
Commune to invite a few hippies along
So go out if you can to a magazine stand
Read how it's done then buy you some land
We'll have hippie commune's from one end to the other
No color nor creed just sisters and brothers
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
You can’t paint the Sistine Chapel with a roller
You can’t carve The Thinker with a jack hammer
You can’t write a symphony on a Kazoo
And you can’t dance Swan Lake on a trampoline
You can’t bake a cake if you have no oven
You can’t sew a gown with a knitting needle
You can’t build a house out of Lego Bricks
And you can’t win at Lotto without buying a ticket
Why do my eyes not notice the humming bird
Only that the nectar tube needs refilling
Why do I not glory in a field of orange poppies
Only struggle to walk without stepping on one
Why do I pass up small kudus when offered
So I can wallow some more in rejection
Why do I long so for the glow of acceptance
When I have no use for the face in the mirror
We all have to work with the gifts we are given
Talent is not something you can go out and buy
You can’t sigh your way into winning the race
And you can’t coerce people into your fan club
You have to dig deep if you want to find oil
You have to cast bait if you want the big fish
You have to believe that the war can be won
To put down your pen and strap on your sword
ljm
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
Waddley bimbely
Nothing is new.
Sometimes I don’t know
What I should do.
Walkily talkily
Human kazoo.
I have learned better
Than trusting in you.
Whiffily sniffley
Embezzle and lie
Authority snority
Let it go by.
Cheatum and beatum
If they complain
Skim from the top
Buy a new plane.
Hoppity boppity
Games of chance
Always let poor people
Pay for the dance.
Scrappity snappity
Selling their wares
***** about usury
Nobody dares.
Slippity slidery
Constant rendition.
Use public money
To buy politicians.
Graftery crafters
Buy media too.
Make some more billions
To see their way through.
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC
Ola Crappola
Ola Kazoo!
I have a bowl a
Crappola for you!
What do you say when
you're feelin' a stew?
Ola Crappola
to Life's Number Two!
Crappola Crappola
needs to be freed.
Then comes relief,
and pain's history!
So Ola Crappola
Ola Kazee!
Do you have a bowl a
Crappola for me?
Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 2:15 PM UTC
I woke up in the morning, My cat was reading Twain,
I tugged his tail so hard, It yanked his little brain.
My Father walks down the stairs yelling "revolution on the rise."
And I know he really meant it, I could see it in his eyes.
I said: "whoa whoa pops what's up with you? You're actin' slightly mad,"
He said: "well son, here we go I'll tell whats got me sad.
Yesterday the mail came and I saw a ***** word,
It said, taxes are coming soon, You'd better hire a new nerd.
So I walked down to the town hall with this witchcraft in my fist,
they said well sir you gotta wait in line, and then marked me on a blacklist.
So I got on a bus back home, for to find a new kazoo,
and then an animal walked on and said 'son wanna hold my shoe?'
I said no way man you got a filthy disease,
You look like a racoon and you smell like rotten cheese.
Then It said hold me to sooth me ease the pain of life
And I guess I did, next thing I knew it was the end of Saturday night.
I said oh no my taxes are due I gotta find a nerd,
I saw one eating spaghetti with the cat and a purple bird.
I walked over stylishly and then in one swoop I stole the nerd,
then I kissed the cat, broke my back and ate that little bird.
Yes I loaded up my harpoon, with a fistful of grapes,
And I got ready to fire for to make my great escape.
I shoot them at my enemies, and let them pop in their face,
Then mama came, took my 'poon and put me in my place.
Yelling: 'Oh Joy, Oh Joy I found my car, now lets go take the bus',
I said Lets go my dear, Its time for us to float like living dust.
Then the Medicine man Comes in with a skull on his cane.
Then he Hits mama so hard she began to go insane.
It was just then we got home so I left her on the bus,
Next time I'll just take the train, at least its color ain't like pus."
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC
i have four gallons of
holy water in my car
and I'm headed straight down.
looking for a sherpa with a kazoo at this point.
how linear would reincarnation be?
you know what I like,
no money/no news.
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
The sun hides his face behind gray morning clouds,
Like a tot playing hide and seek.
And at times from around those silver-lined borders,
His beaming face will peek.
He spies me there as I wander below him,
Lilting along my way,
And at once tucks his face out from sight again,
It’s a little game we play.
The westward wind is at once cheerful and lithe,
He tosses my hair to the sky,
Strumming the treetops like a God-made kazoo,
With notes that are cool and light.
The trees all awake to the sound of his tune,
Tossing gracefully to and fro.
Maiden dyads and naiads waltz gracefully on,
Swinging in time with their boughs.
The gravel laughs heartily beneath my worn feet,
In a voice that is deep and merry,
He tells the sweet tails of his long-forgotten trails,
And the travelers they have carried.
He can outline the best and the worst of mankind,
All the forks which have marked their paths,
Of the men who showed courage ‘gainst nature and foe,
And of the burdens on their backs.
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 12:54 PM UTC
Hot Jazz, subsonic blasts!
My whoopee cushions deflating fast!
Rumble squeaks, the but kazoo,
cheeky flappers 2 by 2!
So toot your horns and raise a glass,
for trouser dancing's such a gas!
At the soggy bottom dew.
( )*( )
https://youtu.be/iSGzMaSgws4
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 1:02 PM UTC
Chlorine smells on the first floor,
And kids getting drunk on the second.
Saturday's daughters rolled up and strung out on echoing laughter in
shadowy classrooms. Then those ankle bruises in the forest green hallway -
We were drinking gin in school when I first forgot those days would end.
In catholic plaid we kissed the kindest boys, I swear to God!
We were sparkplug babies wearing sweaters, and dammnit,
We Were Kind.
Kazoo choruses, and days spent standing side by side in a mirror.
We were all tin foil newborns with
Aluminum vertebrae and electric fingertips.
Now this is my dormant reconciliation,
And you're my living ghost.
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 9:27 PM UTC
i'm not to bad, to be with you
i'm not to bad, for being true
i'm not to bad, to fall through
i'm not to bad, with a kazoo
i'm not to bad, to stick with you
i'm not to bad, with a tattoo
i'm not to bad, out of the blue
i'm not to bad, cause i love you
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 4:55 AM UTC
Running was tiresome with a long day ahead
Sniffing glue is the only thing in my head
The death of by brother was never good
He got burnt at least there was no blood
I lost my family and a whole lot more
Sniffing glue is the thing I do now I am poor
I used to live in gutu
now I live in a bridge and sniff glue
I lost my brother in Johannesburg
I remember when we ate a burger
Stop sniffing glue
Check out my new Subaru
I remember when I stopped sniffing glue
I started to play the kazoo
And now my book is overdue
I bad at rhythming yabbadabbadoo
And I will never stop sniffing glue
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
Yesterday
We borrowed
The the world
Spinning it fast
Like a red top
Tossing it
Straight up
in the
Sweet air
Like an orange kazoo
Then, we filled it up with
Lots of Alice-blue skies
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
To Save Strays Deserve Lagniappe
Ruff lee, e'er since
aye waz za lil whippersnapper
watt wit dis awful temper, yet
obedient to a pooch loving Aleut
til present moment, Asian ole mangy coot
this hot day (woof faux pas
dipping into animal shelter
donated water bowl)
filled to the brim with smoothie fruit
flavored slaking, moistening, cooling,
sans lallygagging tongue
doth wipe phlegmy ooze away,
where nearby a kazoo
playing labradoodle
accompanies mum
muttering prettifying self,
via quasi preening snout
when squeezed
automatically issues
***** tonk sound imitating hoot,
where passerine twittering
fly night passersby
toss bone fied token loot
and a Norwegian
bachelor farmer named Knute
Rockne took immediate
liking to yours truly,
who when scratched
itchy fur patches remained mute
imparting unconditional love
to petting man's best friend
hoof right then and there
Isaiah felt as top underdog
momentarily distracted
Fermi n Rico as petsmart necessary fix
reduced to that as newshound ******
oft times in desperation
shine shoes ala boot lix
usually rewarded with bona fide prolix
about such a docile mix
breed to old for chase sticks
to learn super champing cheap tricks.
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
We lean on the balcony
looking down
on the Square;
it's a summer evening,
light still,
kids playing
by the pram sheds,
on up and down the slope
on their scooters or bikes.
Fay smells of flowers;
her fair hair let loose
about her slim shoulders;
I sniff her secretly.
My father's away,
she says,
he'll be back
on Saturday.
Where's he gone?
Business in Scotland;
he said I was to learn
Chapter six
of St John's Gospel.
Why?
Just his way
of making sure
I don't waste too much
time on earthly things.
Will you learn it?
I will have to;
he'll test me
when he gets back
and if I haven't
there will be trouble,
he said.
I see two kids fighting
over by the pram sheds;
a crowd gathers.
Don't your parents
make you read the Bible?
No, my old man
wouldn't know
the first thing
about the Bible;
he thinks it's all
a load of tosh,
but my mother says
we should go to church
and sometimes we do,
especially
the Bible-thumpers
by the iron bridge
who take poor kids
to the beach
in the summer
and they have feast night
with bread
and cakes and such.
Fay looks at me;
her eyes have
a sadness about them
like a puppy
left out
in the rain.
The nuns say
that those who
do not believe
will go to Hell.
Be quite
a packed place, then.
I believe,
but I want you
to believe, too,
she says.
Believe what?
In Jesus and God.
I watch a tall kid
ride his bike
by a couple
and shout
KAZOO!
as he passes them by.
I do believe.
You do?
Sure why not?
She smiles.
I would kiss
Miss A's backside
for a smile like that,
but I don't tell Fay;
I just look
at the brightness
of her eyes
where stars
are born
and an old star dies.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC