Best To Beat The Band Poems

(after Edgar Allan Poe's "The Angel of the Odd")

It was a tidy day and I sat, replete, under vellux blankets.
Sadly, my tea was weak, the...

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It's raining cats and dogs on a dark and stormy night -
with such a stroke of genius, a poet starts to write.
Inane clichés he's banging...

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He Clapped For Us All

he could clap like it hurt his pink palms,
regarding us with sacred consideration 
promises, words, meaningless, bland,
creations for every special occasion,

words...

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I worked in a bowlin' place settin' pins,

Tryin' not to let a ball break my shins!

In those days of yore, pins were set by hand,

And...

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He plied the Mississippi River on the paddle wheeler 'Dandy Dame'.
Gamblin' was his profession and three-card monte was his game.
He became very creative at palmin'...

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My goodness, how rude can one get?
I haven’t even finished speaking yet.
Your uncaring interruption,
has ruined my thought construction.
Now I have to put my thoughts on...

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Sawing Firewood For My Dad, Again

"Saw them logs boys, saw them logs
 heat for the kitchen, heat for the halls
Winter is going to be so...

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Farmer Dan, was a gambling man, who loved to play at some cards;
So to beat the band, he tried his hand, at the other farm...

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The cloak closet was fairly clean
A brief dust would do it
Then pouring rain set in two days
Leaving white walls unfit

Now the closet isn't sparkling clean
From...

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The Original Sin: Rhyming Haiku!
 
Haiku
should never rhyme:
it’s a crime!
-Michael R. Burch
 
The herons stand,
sentry-like, at attention ...
rigid observers of some unknown command.
-Michael R. Burch
...

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Confessions Of A Poet



As the dark hour slays the great setting Sun
earthly fires in the nether regions flame
The poet's heart must see both to have...

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When I enrolled in magical school
Ma said good luck
Dad called me a fool

He always thought with my IQ
I’d fix people up,
Not saw them in two.

But...

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(On May 1 1960, at the very depth of the
Cold War, CIA pilot Gary Powers was shot
down over the central USSR.  Here we are
imagining...

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My spouse and I were ushered to our table by the Maitre d'.
We noticed right off that it was strangely quiet as could be!

Zombies sat...

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He could clap like it hurt his pink palms
and regard us with sacred considerations 
Promises, words, meaningless, bland,
created for every special occasion,

Words waved like proud...

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