Poetry Thursday-Humor

Humor in poetry can sometimes seem like an oxymoron, and I'm as guilty as any amateur poet of using verse as an outlet for whatever angst I'm experiencing on a given day. So I enjoyed reading some "light verse" in search of a suitable offering. I was interested to realize that it never occurred to me to try and write a humorous poem, and I feel sort of inspired now to give it a try.

This poem of Judith Viorst's, although a little outdated in it's references (Keoghs?? I think they're some sort of retirement investment that were popular in the 80's), has a cute message about the way happiness changes as we grow older.

Happiness (Reconsidered)

Happiness

Is a clean bill of health from the doctor,

And the kids shouldn't move back home for more than a year,

And not being audited, overdrawn, in Wilkes-Barre,

in a lawsuit or in traction.

Happiness

Is falling asleep without Valium,

And having two breasts to put in my brassiere,

And not (yet) needing to get my blood pressure lowered,

my eyelids raised or a second opinion.

And on Saturday nights

When my husband and I have rented

Something with Fred Astaire for the VCR,

And we're sitting around in our robes discussing

The state of the world, back exercises, our Keoghs,

And whether to fix the transmission or buy a new car,

And we're eating a pint of rum-raisin ice cream

on the grounds that

Tomorrow we're starting a diet of fish, fruit and grain,

And my dad's in Miami dating a very nice widow,

And no one we love is in serious trouble or pain,

And our bringing-up-baby-days are far behind us,

But our senior citizen days have not begun,

It's not what I called happiness

When I was twenty-one,

But it's turning out to be

What happiness is.

Judith Viorst

For more humorous poetry, go here

Counting Down From 10

I feel like writing, but don't feel like thinking too hard, so I'll give this meme a try - it's been making the rounds of some of my favorite blogs lately. Here's my version: 10 Favourites Favorite season: Spring, with fall a very close second Favorite colour: Turquoise, like a cloudless spring sky Favorite time: Sunrise Favorite food: Pasta with a rich sauce Favorite drink: Dark roast coffee in the morning; cold, buttery chardonnay at night Favorite ice cream: Not much for ice cream, but mint chocolate chip is my usual pick Favorite place: In the US (so far), San Francisco; abroad (so far), the Southeast coast of England Favorite sport: I'm horrible at sports. I love to walk and bike, if those count Favorite actor: It's a tie between Jimmy Smits and Hugh Grant Favorite actress: Julianne Moore and Sally Field

9 Currents

Current feeling: Wired Current drink: The above mentioned chardonnay Current time: 11:20 p.m. Current show on TV: I'm not watching it; but my husband is watching something really noisy! Current mobile used: Motorola Current windows open: Blogger, and MSN Current underwear: The usual "old lady pants" as Bridget Jones would say Current clothes: Super comfy knit gaucho pants and cotton T Current thought: Is it that late already?

8 Firsts First nickname: Sunshine First kiss: Dave, 8th grade First crush: Chris, the older man (I was 7, he was 9) First best friend(s): Lisa and Jill First vehicle I drove: 1972 turquoise chevy Nova First job: Teaching piano lessons First date: First real date- Jim, the guy I married three years later First pet: Our cocker spaniel, Ginger

7 Lasts Last drink: Water, before the chardonnay Last kiss: From Kana, my friend Leigh's baby daughter; last "real" kiss was my husband, this morning Last meal: Dinner - minestrone soup, warm bread with olive oil to dip, eaten with my friend and her 20 month old daugther; Last web site visited: Paris Parfait Last film watched: I can't even remember; I watched an old episode of West Wing last night Last phone call: My mother Last TV show watched: Rescue Me

6 Have you evers Have you ever broken the law: Does speeding count? Have you ever been drunk: Only slightly Have you ever kissed someone you didn't know: Don't think so Have you ever been in the middle/close to gunfire: No, thank goodness Have you ever skinny dipped: No Have you ever broken anyone's heart: Not to my knowledge

5 Things Things you can hear right now: TV from the other room, a distant leaf blower Things on your bed: One sleeping shih tzu, my work clothes which I haven't put away Things you ate today: Salad, soup, bread, watermelon, and a package of animal crackers when I was restless at work Things you wouldn't want to live without: If we're talking inanimate objects, then my piano, computer, books, car and cell phone Things you do when you are bored: I can't remember when I last felt bored

4 Places you have been today

My mother's house, work, a restaurant, my friends house,

3 Things on your desk right now

Books, picture of my son (aged 2), my notebook

2 Choices

Black or white: Black

Hot or cold: Cold

1 Place you want to visit

Picking only one is a very tall order. I'd really love to go to Greece someday.

Busy Day

I'm quoting my son's blog, when I say that "it's 2:20 am, and I'm sitting at my computer. What a dumbass." I'm also quoting my son when I say that, "for reasons unknown to me, I'm really wired." I have been relentlessly running my little engine since about 6:43 am yesterday, when Magic awoke me by doing the "fwap fwap" (that means shaking his head really fast) right in front of my sleeping face. Needless to say, that aroused me right away. Luckily, my beautfiul Cuisinart programmable coffee grinder/maker was ready, set, and on its mark, so coffee was pouring into the carafe by the time I found my slippers and shuffled to the kitchen.

I finished the first cup in relative peace, sitting on my back porch and enjoying the sounds of summer waking up to another beautiful day (I love Michigan this year!) But by the time my eyes had finally opened all the way, my brain had shifted into overdrive, and I was itching to get the day underway. Since school is out, Monday is a "day off" for me. So, here's what I did on my day off:

• Made my husband some breakfast and made a quick sweep of email and blog friends while he ate;
• After he left for work (finally!), swept and washed the kitchen floor and scrubbed the bathroom;
• Stripped the sheets off the bed and threw them in the washer;
• Started thinking about haiku for this week's prompt at One Deep Breath (ODB);
• Hung the sheets on the line in the backyard;
• Drove to FitZone for Women and exercised for one hour;
• (Took One Deep Breath);
• Made lunch at home and took my (healthy) tuna on lettuce with tomatoes and a hard boiled egg to the patio and read three chapters of Poemcrazy while I ate;
• Had a piece of my mom's homemade apple pie for dessert (so long healthy lunch and exercise);
• Hoovered ( I like this so much better than saying "vaccumed," and I do use a Hoover) the whole house;
• (Took One Deep Breath);
• Drove my mom and I to the market where I shopped for fresh fruit, veggies, and some treats for my work lunch tomorrow;
• Finished three of my haiku for aforementioned ODB;
• Tossed in one more load of laundry;
• Transcribed a tape of dictation from my boss;
• (Took One Deep Breath);
• Finished up three more haiku for ODB; responded to emails from blog friends;
• Prepared dinner (homemade pizza, one half with the works, the other half veggies only);
• Finished one last haiku for ODB;
• Took all laundry off the line; dressed the bed with sweet smelling sheets;
• (Took One Deep Breath);
• Husband's home - eat dinner with him and feed dogs;
• Try in vain to get a picture to post on blog; finally give up and post all haiku (pictureless) on ODB;
• (Took...)
• Clean up the kitchen, water all the flowers, and finally get the mail;
• At last, sit on the backporch with a cold chardonnay, watch the fireflies come out, and get some really great thoughts about a poem...

So here I am, several deep breaths later, still typing away. And, it's only four more hours until that Cuisinart coffee maker goes "click" and a new day begins...

One Deep Breath-Ceremony and Ritual

When I was a child, my mother and grandmother had a weekly ritual for completing all their domestic tasks. My mother used to recite a little poem that explained the basis for much of their work pattern: Wash on Monday, Iron on Tuesday, Bake on Wednesday, Shop on Thursday, Sweep on Friday, Mend on Saturday, Rest on Sunday, and on Monday, start all over again!

There is actual historical basis for this rhyme, which goes like this:

Apparently the women of the Mayflower came ashore on Monday, November 13, 1620 (two days after the men). The first thing they did was wash clothing made filthy from sixty-eight days at sea (yech!). This established an orderly ritual reflected by the following rhyme:

Wash on Monday,Iron on Tuesday,Bake on Wednesday,Brew on Thursday,Churn on Friday,Mend on Saturday,Go to meeting on Sunday. Weren't those Puritan's organized?

I notice that my family's version was a little different, probably because we didn't brew, churn, or "go to meeting!" But, I'm surprised at how much of this ritual I've retained in my housekeeping practices (which are definitely not up to my mother's standards, let alone the Puritans)! So today when I was loading my washing machine, I started composing some haiku around these homemaking rituals.

Monday's wash line dries in the sun - wind whipped freshness Crisp white linen button-down collars,cuffs linked with gold elegant man Sweet fragrant aroma spices the air with love - appetites aroused!

Market day riches fruits, veggies galore shopping cart brimful of bounty

Stiff whiskered broom dusty corners swept clean secret cobwebs disappear

Clothes torn and tattered beg stitches to mend nimble fingers deftly fly Rocking chair waits Drowsy sleeper lulled gently into her day of rest For more haiku, go here

Birthday Surprises

My dad just celebrated his 80th birthday, and on Saturday, I attended a surprise party given by his wife, his stepchildren, his stepgrandchildren, and a whole group of his friends that I had never met. If you had asked me 10 years ago whether I could have gone to a party like this, I would undoubtedly have answered "No *#$(@&* way!" But, age has a way of changing a person, and I guess we've both mellowed quite a bit in those intervening 10 years. So, I put on my game face, and showed up. He was well and truly surprised, and genuinely pleased at my presence.

Twenty years ago, 0n my dad's 60th birthday, my mother and I gave him a surprise birthday party. It was a little different than this one, but not a whole lot. About 25-30 members of his family, friends and business associates were there that day too. It was held in the dining room of the country club he had recently joined, instead of the lake front home of an old friend. He was totally and honestly surprised then as well. However, there were some notable differences in the two parties. At his 60th birthday party, my mother was the woman holding his hand during the toasts. When he opened gifts and cards, I was the one who jotted notes about who had given him what. And when he cut the cake, it was my 10 year old son, his only grandchild, who proudly helped him serve.

A lot has happened in the twenty years between those two parties. An affair that was meant to be kept secret was discovered. A 40 year marriage dissolved bitterly and acrimoniously. A young woman lost a lot of respect for her father, and a little boy lost the company of a grandfather he idolized.

For a long time, I guarded my pain and anger toward my father like a dog guards a bone. It was my power, my vindication, my strength. But about two years ago, I was gifted with the grace of forgiveness (which I wrote about here). So I was able to attend this surprise party, albeit with some moments of very bittersweet sadness, but also with some moments of genuine pleasure. No one was more surprised about that than I.