Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Bells (Ancestors In Paradise)

A happy family,
Lived in a happy home,
Father,mother, sister, brother they be,
They were happy, damn happy,
As good as good can be.

Then came The Bells,
Telling of the past, the present, the future,
You can learn a lot from,
The rolling and the tolling of The Bells.

Father started getting sick,
Black spots covered his body,
He first couldn't eat,
Then he couldn't move,
Then he couldn't sleep,
Then last It took his body,
Piece by little piece,
Till all that was left,
Was the fruitless shell,
Of a truly wonderful man.

They told me to go to the yard,
When my father died,
They covered his lifeless eyes,
With a small loin cloth,
Took him to the crematorium.

We took his ashes home,
And put them next to Grandma's,
To watch over us forever,
And for us to remember forever.

I cried a lot that day,
The waterfall from the abysses of my heart,
To the lake in my soul,
Washed away my sorrow,
And helped me mourn.

My father had breakfast with his kinfolk,
Then lunch with our ancestors in paradise.

I'll always remember The Bells,
Telling of the past, the present, the future,
You can learn a lot from,
The rolling and the tolling of The Bells.



This poem was a poem requested by Nadia Khan about the Black Plague. I researched the Black Plague a lot and found it to be a lot like cancer actually in the way it kills people. I related it to my father, so there you go. I got the idea from Edgar Allen Poe's "The Bells." He wrote it about his dying wife as well. The second to last stanza is based on a quote by Giovanni Boccacio, an Italian noble, about the Black Plague.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Skulls and Smiley Faces

One and one half wandering fools,
Wandering through the desert sand,
Then the Skull met the Smiley Face,
And By God,
There was rain.

They were once two,
But now two faces twirled into one,
All was good,
As good as good can be.

But all of a sudden,
The Skull called it quits,
Said it would be better,
If they just stayed friends.

The Smiley Face wasn't smiling,
When she heard the news,
The Smiley Face took aim with her forty-four,
Five times with a rooty-toot-toot.
The sad Smiley said,
"He's my man, and he done me wrong"*

*The last 4 lines are directly based on a part of the American folk song Frankie and Johnny.

This is a very odd poem. It's based on Ivan Quezada and Deeana Altvater's relationship that recently ended. I was a little sad when I heard because they were my favorite couple. Even better than Brangelina. So, I decided I'd write a poem about it. This is very fictional. Ivan is alive and well. I didn't want any details so I could have more creative freedom with it. Well I went wild with it and here it is. Enjoy!

Monday, July 27, 2009

The Last Chestnut

Everlasting winter in the City,
Jack Frost's nipping at my nose,
Hell tugging at my shoulders,
Here's to the last chestnut,
Before I drop dead.

But alas,
I am saved,
By this wondrous chestnut,
Heat flows through me like a raging volcano,
The delicate, curious flavors entice me and astound me,
I am reborn.

The haunting hotdog,
The pointless pretzel,
The stomach churning churro,
Could be nothing next to the
Last Chestnut.

Rafael Joson










Friday, July 24, 2009

Who Do You Think You're Foolin?

When I was just a boy,
When I was just a boy,
The Devil would Call My Name,
I'd say, "Now,
Who Do You Think You're Foolin?!?!"
I'm a consecrated boy,
My Father He loves me, He loves me,
He gets down on His knees and hugs me,
He loves me like a rock,
He loves me like a rock of ages,
He loves me.


When I grew old and close to death,
Old and close to death,
And the Devil would Call My Name,
I'd say, "Now,
Who Do You Think You're Foolin?!?!"
I'm a capitulated man,
My Father He loves me, He loves me,
He gets down on His knees and hugs me,
He loves me like a rock,
He loves me like a rock of ages,
He loves me.

*This is a gospel kind of poem/song. It is written about God, but it doesn't matter if you don't believe in God. It can be about your father as well. It is largely based upon the song Loves Me Like A Rock by Paul Simon.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

A Flash of the Silvery Spoon

Poppy Perrywinkle was a spoiled boy,
A brat one might say.

One day Poppy was walking down the street,
Minding his own business,
When in a flash of lightning,
Down flew a silvery spoon,
Right in front of Poppy's feet.

He greedily picked up the superb spoon,
and left it in his room,
But he couldn't stop thinking about it.
It clung to his mind,
Like vines to a tree.

he started eating everything with it,
soup turned to ice cream,
oatmeal to pudding,
cereal to pie,
He ate everything and anything with the silvery spoon.

One day he realized a horrible truth,
His beloved silvery spoon,
Was nothing more than a heinous hook,
That left holes,
Holes in his mouth,
In his heart.

*I think this version is better. Thank you to Randi Fischer for editing it.

Ribbons Of Sand

Ribbons of sand,
Blowing against the sea,
Tying my heart in knots,
And freeing my loathsome soul.

The tide rushes in,
Crashes against the might breakers,
Relinquishes my ribbons,
Vulnerable.
Defenseless.

The ribbons rush back,
My ribbons of sand,
Blowing against the sea,
Tying my heart in knots,
And freeing my loathsome soul.








Friday, July 17, 2009

Draw Me A Sheep

Draw Me A Sheep,
Make her soft,
Make her fluffy,
Make her white*,

Make her strong,
But lovely,
Give her eyes that shine like jewels,
And a nose cuter than a button.

Last but not least,
Put a small slender scar,
On both our hearts,
So she'll be mine,
And I'll be hers,
Forever and ever.




*I'm not a racist, just most sheep are white. I don't want people looking too much into that.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Poppy's Play

"If you'll gather 'round me, children,
A story I will tell,*
About Poppy Perrywinkle, a soldier,
He knew those bunkers well.

It was in the town of Toms River,
In the spring of 44',
Poppy was driving his supped up V8 Ford,
Without a care in the world.

There a recruiter approached him,
In a manner rather crude,
Forceful words of indoctrination,
Caught young Poppy by surprise.

Papa Perrywinkle told him,
Because he loved him so,
"No Poppy,
Don't Be A Hero!"

Poppy ignored his papa,
He wanted to see the world,
And fight the dirty Hun.

So he joined the United States Marine Corp,
Section A, Company 1.

Poppy landed on the beaches of Normandy,
He fought the hardest he could,
But he left his bloody brains,
Out on the stormy coast.

26 days later,
A somber man in black,
Came and told old papa,
Poppy wasn't coming back.

He said to him,
"Your son, he was a hero,
A boy he came, but a man he died",
Papa just cried and cried and cried.










*I borrowed that line directly from Pretty Boy Floyd by Woody Guthrie, which this poem/song is directly influenced by.


Saturday, July 4, 2009

Walking Down

A boy walks down the street,
He says,
"What am I doing here?
What's in it for me?
I want this.
I want that.
Life's going too slow,
I want to go fast,
Zoom out of innocence,
And leave this ignorance in the past."

His old dad drops by,
Gives his son a bear hug,
Gives him some free advice,
Some fatherly advice,
He tells him,
"Don't go so fast,
You've gotta make the moments last.*"



A man walks down the street,
He says,
"What am I still doing here?
I've worked at my 9-5,
All of my life,
I've got nothing,
No reason to live,
Just hungry, selfish mouths to feed,
And 1/2 a foot in the grave,
I'm crying for life,
Begging for death,
Who can decide?"

The man calls his pop,
He asks what to do, what to say, what to feel,
His father tells him,
"Your life may be hard,
But you're going soft,
You need a shot at redemption,
And you have plenty of time,
So just let it ride."


An old man walks down the street,
He says,
"I've done all I can here,
I've lived my life,
Though my body may be going,
My soul is strong,
I am ready to go."



*I took those 2 lines from a Simon and Garfunkel song called The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy).

This is my 1st poem in a while so don't be too judgmental, I'm coming back, but it's gonna be slow.