Yes, I have been writing epically bad poetry for a long time… This is an example from 2013.
Hear the Music (a love poem)
The singer sings his song,
And wants the world to sing along,
Though the world has gone all wrong,
And the darkness stays too long.
The singer warms and croons,
Under bright romantic moons,
And carries hopeful tunes,
To the listening dolts and loons.
Can a song bring truth to light?
Can it help us win the fight?
Does it ease the world’s plight?
And set the wrongs aright?
Yes a song can save the world,
Though the truth must be unfurled,
And the listeners’ ears are twirled.
So the hurts will all be pearled.
Okay, okay… goofy poetry, I know. That’s the way I am. I have a goopy-sappy-goofy faith in the power of words. I call the chapters of my fiction Cantos because I believe them to be musical compositions and pieces of…
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As a child I loved Perry Como’s “Catch a Falling Star” song. But I knew if I caught one and put it in my pocket like he suggested it would burn a hole in my pants and my mother would beat the crap out of me.
You make me laugh, because I remember having the exact same thoughts.
Then there was “Three Coins in a Fountain”. I felt that wasn’t very much money to make a song out of. If you listen to Dean Martin version , it’s typical New Yorker pronounces t’s as d’s and it sounds like “Three Coins in a Foundan” . We were a lot smarter than our parent’s gave credit. I knew my mother would never be kissing Santa Claus either like in that Christmas song. Hell she never kissed anyone.
I fondly remember Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin movies as well as all the music. I may have been smarter than my parents were ready for, but I believed Jerry was in real life the same as he was in the movies. I saw the Nutty Professor and expected to invent a serum like that when I grew up, only without the jerk parts. I could be stupid as easily as I could be smart.