I know you're moving on
To bigger and better places,
To new beginnings and new people
With new minds and new faces.
Dr. Seuss famously once said,
"Oh the places you will go",
And oh that I do know.

It's a big, frightening, scary,
Beautiful, wondrous, exciting world out there
With all its bright sights and lights
And sounds resounding in the air.
Definitely be wary but
No need to be overly worried.
We've all got to make the jump
At some time or at some certain point,
And every one of us has to make it
Each in our own individual way.

So don't be afraid
That you could be doing it wrong,
It's not worth the worry because
Really
               Life Isn't That Long.

Get on board and go with the flow,
Or pick your direction and go
And see where the beating of your drum takes you.
The beauty in the journey is that you never truly know
Where those winds and whims will blow you.

“You Gorblax!” I cried out
In pain and in woe,
When suddenly I stubbed,
My littlest toe.
Spewing crude words
At the villainous wall,
I bumbled and grumbled
As I walked down the hall.
Then mother glanced over,
With the sternest of looks
“What have you been reading,
In all of those books?!”
I hung my head low,
Stroobling with shame
And softly I mumbled,
“What harm’s in a name?”
To mother’s dismay-
She thought she had taught me
What words I could say
And once more turned to lecture
In her old gorblax way.

Amassed an inventory of words, marvelous and concordant, reserved for the late at night, tremulous and tremor shaking, purposed to soothe with honey, milk and cookies, and coax them, the odd ones out,  to emerge slowly, oh so slowly, with a magnetic resonance, yank them from their granite tombs, and employ the force of Od to convert them over to their own side, and will not pause, be placated until they are my spring waters, my co-religionists, in grace and kindness, and I will levitate them above us, espousing our collectivity, each a designer, an artist of our gemeinschaft, free to come, free to stay, free to endeavor to clarify and excavate the roots so deep of the thin reeds of their solitary society, to stand up and count yourself linked but incapable of breaking the chain (see my photo) and even though there is nothing new under the sun, let us all remind them, a Seussian refrain, the sun nonetheless will come and clang, invitation engraved, naming you with calligraphic flourishes, a fine poem planted firm in our rooted hands saying:
                                  Welcome child
                                  >~~~~~~~~~<

*God Blesss the Child Whose Got His Own

Billie Holiday / Arthur Herzog Jr.

Them that's got shall get
Them that's not shall lose
So the Bible said and it still is news
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own

Yes, the strong gets more
While the weak ones fade
Empty pockets don't ever make the grade
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own

Money, you've got lots of friends
Crowding round the door
When you're gone, spending ends
They don't come no more
Rich relations give
Crust of bread and such
You can help yourself
But don't take too much
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own

Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own
He just worry 'bout nothin'
Cause he's got his own

awake and it's hopeless
insomniac and opened
pandora in the corner crying
everything she had is stolen
taken from her in the woods
***** and robbed of all her good
roped and ribbed avoid her, good
not so brave and power gone
boxing gloves no longer on

i wonder why i dream of ******
smoking, lying, dealing in corners
chain chain chain
of fools, that's me
i stop to turn and look
i bleed
i can't keep up i'm my own treadmill
running always up up uphill
constant loop i step on my face
panting wheezing come on ***** pace
ball toe heel for freedom freedom
walking, telling myself that i run

a thousand times a year they say to me
you look like my cousin's best friend's cleaning lady
shut up i dont care, stop stop right there
the old conundrum
never knowing who i am
wake up soldier, break time's over
breaking brakes and driving over
cliffs
and i wonder will i ever be the older
one in a partnership, mentor to a little kid
parent to an alien, wriggling chewing bubble gum
do you believe in a one, 1, One?
do you believe in america, son?

rocking, waiting for chernobyl
melting down and starting over
rocking, forward backward forward
on my mind this pungent odor
why's the light so cold and broken
why's the day time rank and molded
why's the sky so hazy hazy
lie in bed so heavy, crazy
coffee, cream and sugar lady,
eat too much and starving lately
give give give me all you have
be my friend, my soul, my sin
understand it's paper please
cuz i can't go back i'm on my knees

wish that i could keep a promise
one, just one
and i'd be honest
but i lie and steal and break
i ******* **** **** ****
wish i could believe in something
once, just once
and i'd be saintly
i never did pray to god
i pray to the people i love
the people who tear me down
the people who build me back up

hey why's it so hard to glue things
together?
let air dry
and avoid contact with eyes
permanence a concept i just cant realize
never knowing anything at all
paralyzed after the fall
stop stop stop stop stop stop dont call

waiting awake my brain a seussian landscape
pandora and the lorax get it on under the moon's haze
i know that im not comical i box it in
i want it all
check this box, this box, this box yes
give it up come, come don't protest
close your eyes and sleep will happen
ready for lift-off, everybody strapped in?

(With apologies to Dr. Seuss aka Theodor Seuss Geisel)

Green eggs and ham is what I pick
I like my poems un-iambic.

To much pomp and circumstance
Has me gazing quite askance.

I ask your patience Sam I am
For poetic posing I must slam.

My poetry I like to rhyme
In simple form and simple time.

And have it held with just the same
Respect and even mild acclaim.

A birthday card I shall not ****
For that to me would be a sham.

Nor baptism or bar mitzvah
I just do not have the chutzpah.

No wedding notice or get well
Poetic arrogance we must quell.

Each greeting billet I shall defend
As one of our true brethren.

Yes poetry indeed I’ll slam it
No synecdoche* or enjambment.*

I’ll have no Haibun* or Kyrielle*
No Triversen* or Villanelle*.

Is simple rhyme anymore silly
Than didactic forms we praise so shrilly?

I do not like to follow forms.
I do not like these contrived norms.

It is the freedom of poetry
that first attracted me to thee.

And why can’t all poetics be
Of an equal equality.

Perhaps it’s not the forms I hate
But the pompousness they doth dictate.

I will not stand for Seussian abuse
I relish odes to eggs chartreuse.

And so I say to thee dear Sam
My poems are happy as they am.

© Copyright 2018 Robert C. Leung