"unger" poems
Norman Rockwell and Jim Unger
Artists from my past
I've met one but not the other
A memory that will last
Who the hell is Bertrand Russell?
I asked over a drink
A man who changed the world forever
Changed the way we think
I remember the Norman Rockwell painting
It's burned deep inside my mind
But, I have got a copy
It's the best one that you'll find
An artist unknown to others
But, a special one to me
My father drew old Russell
It's quite a piece to see
It's never been inside a book
And never will it be
But, Bertrand Russells' wrinkles
Mean a lot to me
Jim Unger and his Herman
Were a favorite of my brother
The artist and his humour
Were unlike any other
We met him at a signing
My brother brought his art
He showed it to Jim Unger
He broke my brother's heart
My brother was an artist
Just like my Dad as well
Their art, not for the public
Their art, was not to sell
Their art should be remembered
Their art should be displayed
Like a vintage guitar sitting
It's better if it's played
So, now two artists pictures
Hidden for an age
Will be shown, for everybody
On a printed page
I give you first, my brother
Ian Turner was his name
No longer is he with us
But, this will show he came
The second one, my father
John Turner, is his name
His drawing days behind him
But, man did he have game
So, here for your enjoyment
Rockwell via Turner number one
Followed by Ungers' Herman
That was done by Turner's son
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 9:57 AM UTC
Ustyrlig mis
Nej, du må ikke tis
På vores åh så værdifulde krybe
Tolk nu mis-
Tolk din historie,
Som du nu har fyldt med tis.
Åh mis
Så forunderlig,
Så nysgerrig du er.
Men kan du ikke se,
At dine unger tisser på din krybe.
Tænk nu mis,
Tænk.
At din krybe er sat til sænk,
Vis du ikke beslutter dig for at tænk'
For hunden vil snart gø
Og så må du dø.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC