ATTENTION IPAD USERS!
Apple doesn't like listing me as "Will Shakespeare (poetry blogger)"
to differentiate me from the other guy, although everybody else does.
They took my first book but now won't take new ones. (Go figure.)
Since Smashwords distributes my books to Apple anyway,
just go to my Smashwords author page and download EPUBs from there.
Smashwords provides samples of my books also.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Midyear Vacation

Half a year has come and gone;
Half a year remains.
Soon we’ll learn what twists and turns
This half a year contains—
Turns that bring us wealth and fame,
Twists that test the hardy…
But both can wait until I’ve had
My Fourth of July party!

Friday, June 27, 2014

Letterbox

I’ve been watching short wide movies
On a tall and narrow screen;
I see tall and skinny people
(You all know just what I mean)
Or the picture’s way too little,
Black above it and below—
Gotta buy a widescreen TV
Or to movies I must go.

Now my wall’s a moving picture
Stretching 80 inches wide.
Though my head aches from the eyestrain
(And I’m taking that in stride)
Seems the channel that we’re watching
Wasn’t shot in letterbox
So it’s black on both the edges.
My whole family sits and mocks.

There’s an irony at work here
But I don’t appreciate it
‘Cause we like to watch old TV shows
Whose values are outdated.
It’s no fun to spend a fortune
For the wasted real estate…
Guess I’ll set the zoom to “widescreen”
So the cast looks overweight.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Butt Fumble

This is the nickname given to an embarrassing turnover play
involving former NY Jets quarterback Mark Sanchez
but it sounds more like a bad date to me…

He grew a bit too amorous.
She soon grew disenchanted
And smacked him when he pinched her rump!
He went home emptyhanded.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Hot Potato

Been watching more soccer…

It’s too hot for any one man to keep to himself.
The potato zips wildly
From one man to another,
Off this one’s foot, off that one’s head;
Contrasting uniforms swirl madly
From one end of the field to the other,
Merging, parting, merging again
While the potato rockets amongst them
Like bumpers in a pinball machine
And the players ring each other's bells
YELLOW CARD!

A moment’s pause
And the bedlam resumes
As the tide turns
And the swirl of players
Drifts toward one end of the field,
The potato much too hot
For any one man to keep to himself
But every man hungers for it.
Contrasting uniforms mash awkwardly
As the potato gets lost
Momentarily
In the frenzied scramble
GOOOOOOOAAAAAAL!

Unless players keep their eyes peeled
For the hot potato
Their team WILL get burned…

Friday, June 20, 2014

All the News That’s Fit to Printout

Our modern world is changing fast
And some lament its speed—
The news is coming at us now
Much faster than we can read.
In fact, it’s faster than we can print!
So I guess it’s no surprise
That the daily paper we used to buy
Is dying before our eyes.

Some folks lament how “days gone by”
No longer mean as much
And the ways we used to stay informed
Just can’t go on as such.
It’s easier now (and cheaper too)
To simply cruise the Web
And have our news delivered with
The speed of a thoroughbred.

The comics page is hard to read
‘Cause the paper’s saving space;
If I want to see how Garfield is,
He’s bigger in cyberspace.
My newsfeed updates by the hour
So I’m never far behind,
And the downtown editor’s just one voice
While blogs share a billion minds.

In the end I suppose that the fit survive
And the rest join the fossil set;
That newsprint’s a fad that’s seen better days
And that trees hope we’ll soon forget.
But when newspapers really do go extinct,
Such a headline will make me sad…
For what will we line the birdcage with
If not with the local rag?

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Down the Amazon

Inspired by the Fifa World Cup being held in Brazil.

Winding its way throughout the countryside,
Teeming with life, competing to live,
Predators and prey alike make their way
Down the Amazon.

Every bend of the river
Every change of the current
Every hour of the day
Brings another unexpected challenge
Which only the strongest survive.

The feeding frenzy begins;
Only the strongest eat their fill
And yet they are not satisfied.
They eat again and again and again—
First the prey,
Then the smallest predators,
Finally those so fat from the frenzy that they never see
The gaping jaws overtaking them…

Only the strongest make their way
Down the Amazon
To the sea where the biggest fish swims without fear.
The Amazon is too small to hold him any longer
And he emerges victorious…

King of the Amazon,
King of the World.
He has reached his GOOOOOL!

Monday, June 16, 2014

Predators in Flux

I eat my tuna sandwich, relieved
That my tuna came packed in a can…
For I hear that a man-eating shark means the same
As a shark eating a man.

Friday, June 13, 2014

POP! Go the Fuses

To the tune of Pop Goes the Weasel, of course.
Here are a few verses, plus the “linking”
verse (labeled {L})—
You know, the one that originally ended
“That’s the way the money goes/POP! goes the weasel.”

All around the neighborhood
The rumbling thunder cruises
The lightning strikes send surges around
POP! go the fuses

{L} A flicker sends us scurrying ‘round
And stumbling ‘bout like stooges
We call the help line right away
POP! go the fuses

The power comp’ny promises help
And gives us all excuses
We wait for hours with nothing to do
POP! go the fuses

When Poppa trips and falls in the dark
He hollers, “What the deuces!?!”
And Momma tells us, “Cover your ears!”
POP! go the fuses

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

An Edgy Birthday Card Verse

Though your sad life nears its climax
And Pa Time slows down his ticking;
Though you ponder obsolescence
And the bucket you’ll be kicking;
Though the Reaper waits in silence
Till you reach the Great Beyond…
Hope you have an Awesome Birthday
Till the fat gal sings her song!

Monday, June 9, 2014

Credit Cards of the Rich and Famous

They’re the cards accepted everywhere.
With names like Mink and Posh and Ruby,
They readily admit that you can never meet their credit limit.

You know it isn’t fair
But they don’t care about your feelings!
The fact that you don’t have one tells them you’re a cash-strapped high-risk dimwit.

They don’t want you at their party.
Bouncers say your payment’s tardy—
Or it WILL be. They all know your kind;
To let you in would be foolhardy!

They’re posing for the paparazzi—
Plastic cards, all flat and sassy,
Sculpting their physiques by doing jumping jacks on your poor wallet.
I’m sure, no matter what you call it,
Mink and friends are antisocial when it comes to folks who aren’t so flashy.

Friday, June 6, 2014

Wired

On the edge of something big
On the cusp of something new
Feeling twitchy, nerves on fire
Unexpected options brew

Just can’t put my finger on it
Something’s up—I know it is
Just a feeling—I can’t shake it;
My life tickles from the fizz

“Optimistic” can’t describe it;
Supercharged, I don’t feel tired
Something good is headed my way—
Must be ‘cause I feel so wired

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

BaggieLand

My schedule had become so tight
I had no time to cook at night.
Friends offered me a helping hand;
That’s how I learned of BaggieLand.

In BaggieLand the work’s pre-done
And packed in bags that serve just one.
You then select the meal you crave
And pop it in the microwave.

It sounded tailor-made for me
So I went on a shopping spree
For baggies I could quickly pop
In the oven cold and pull out hot.

The next day, while my stomach rumbled,
I wondered, as through bags I bumbled,
What’s IN these bags? I couldn’t tell
For the ice disguised their contents well.

At last I chose a meal at random
And wondered why they hadn’t canned ‘em—
Why, then the labels might be plain
To any hungry scatterbrain!

The first one that I cooked was bad;
The next was worse. This baggie fad
Was not for me. I’m back to canned
‘Cause you starve to death in BaggieLand!

Monday, June 2, 2014

Poopsie Went Too Far

Maybe the neighbors just don’t care.
Their dog dropped by and marked his territory
Right in my flower bed
Then dug it up before he fled.

I didn’t see their mangy mutt
Defile my lovely garden but I’m sure
That he’s the perpetrator
Guilty of this pile and crater.

Towns make leash laws for a reason;
Else it’d soon be open season on those pets
Whose careless families
Don’t protect them from calamities.

Soon his owners will be bawling
‘Cause their Poopsie (as they call him) dropped his tags
Amidst his squalor.
The fines alone will make them holler!
And all my flowers, though they languish,
Will know that others share their anguish.