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Cosmic Comic Relief

Sadly sobbing, sadly sobbing,
Rolls the restless wireless sea,
Where the wireless waves go bobbing
Up and down so dolefully.
And nothing there the gloom assails,
Depression to undo,
Till some merry little static
In a manner most erratic
Till statics dropp their little tails
And split themselves in two.

Just to watch their comic wriggling
Moves the stratosphere to mirth,
And a giddy urge to giggling
Trails a titter round the earth.
When wireless humor flops and fails
And nought can raise a laugh,
Then some artful atmospheric
Sends the other half hysteric
Gay atmospherics dropp their tails
And split themselves in half.

Once again the world grows weary;
Sadly superheterodyne
Wax the wireless waves, and dreary,
Doleful frequencies repine!
Until, once more, loud laughter hails
The comic cosmic crew.
As some little stunting static,
Most absurdly acrobatic
Till statics dropp their little tails
And split themselves in two.

There is art in every antic,
So, when sitting at your set,
Rage no more with fury frantic
O'er the statics that you get.
For, far beyond your ken, great gales
Of laughter loud, with cosmic chaff
Hilarious and quite Homeric,
Sounds, as some impish atmospheric
Calls on his crowd to dropp their tails
And split themselves in half.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As Between Pensioners

''Tis precious stuff,' said old George Jones
'When men sore needs a fall;
Tho' how or why it comes, I owns
I ain't got clear at all.
Some sez that in the sun, a spot
Controls it in some way.'
'It's this 'ere wireless, like as not,'
Said old Pete Parraday.

'Wireless,' scoffed grey-haired Joey Park.
'Wot wireless did they use
When ole man Noah sailed the ark?
It's them black cockytoos.
Last week I seen more than a few,
An' then wot did I say '
''Tis wireless - I'm tellin' you!'
Said old Pete Parraday.

'Cockies? Sun-spots?' said Daddy Shore,
'Jist foolish talk an' vain.
It's this 'ere Abbysinian war
An' guns as causes rain.
Ain't it been proved by natcharil laws
Time an' again, the way '
'It's this 'ere wireless is the cause,'
Said old Pete Parraday.

Said old George Jones, 'Ain't you ashamed
To talk the way you do?
It's providence gits mostly blamed
When things is lookin' blue.
Ain't the rain now due? For ain't we got
O'er all this world full sway?'
'Too right. But wireless helps a lot,'
Said old Pete Parraday.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wires

Wires

I was fourteen
when our literature teacher said:
‘For today’s homework
you have to write a poem about your arms’.
The next day I stood up before the class and recited:
‘My arms are like very, very long wires
with which I can embrace the whole world.'
The teacher said: ‘Very good, great metaphor’.
He died peacefully
just a few years before the Wireless Era.
Lucky for him, he escaped the struggle
of all these wireless things,
even wireless loves.
Meanwhile, I mourn for the death of my first great metaphor.

poem by Ndrek Gjini
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Can Have The TV

You can have the T.V.
I'll take the radio
Really, I don't want the T.V.
Just please the radio
I'd like that chair if you don't want it
Thank you
You keep the couch
You'll need a couch that's ok
You can keep the records
Cause it's your sterio
Really, I won't need the records
Without a sterio
I'd like the kitchen chairs and table
Thank you
You keep the bed
I'll buy a bed
That's ok
The books we can split in half
The pots and pan we'll do the same
The pictures on the wall
We can split in half
And you can have the scrabble game
The money in the bank
We can split in half
And you can have your single name
Our friends, we can split in half
And we can each have half the lane
Ok it's settled then
You can have the t.v.
I'll take the radio
Really I don't want the t.v.
Just please the radio
I'll like a lamp if you don't want it
Thank you
You keep the couch you'll need a couch
That's ok
You keep the bed, I'll buy a bed
That's ok
The dog, you keep the dog
I'll come around and see him now and then

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Split Moment Between..

the split moment between, when the tide comes in, and the tide goes out... that is god! the split moment between, the tears of a child, and the body of the old man being buried, that is god! the split moment between, the firing of the big guns, and the laying down of weapons, that is god! the split moment between, the firing of the revolver, and the prison door clanging shut, that is god! the split moment between, ejaculation and childbirth, that is god! the split moment between, the rise of a civilization, and its downfall, that is god! the split moment between, remorse, repentence, responsibility, and prayer, that is god! the split moment between, falling in love, and saying goodbye, that is god! the split moment between, nakedness and truth, that is god! the split moment between, loss and giving, that is god! the split moment between, darkness and dawn.... well you know!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So You Don't Like The Sour Man?

so, here you are again, feeling sorry for the sour man
the one who does not know how to stretch his face
to make a smile
the one consumed by the ghosts of his own worries
that never came
the one who stays in the nook
afraid,
you do not like this sour man
scared, not easy to handle, expensive
to the pocket
you do not find him
a good company to your sports
laughter
and happy-go-lucky
merry, merry, merry,
round and round
telling people hey life is short why not just enjoy every minute of it
savor the moments
lick every sweet dropp of life like honey to your finger

finger licking good
till the last dropp till the supply lasts
take today, today, today, why worry about tomorrow

oh, you do not like the sour man
and you are angry at him

well, it is sad, the sour man has conquered you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Days Before Rock n Roll

Justin, gentler than a man
I am down on my knees
At the wireless knobs
I am down on my knees
At those wireless knobs
Telefunken, telefunken
And Im searching for
Luxembourg, luxembourg,
Athlone, budapest, afn,
Hilversum, helvetia
In the days before rock n roll
In the days before rock n roll
In the days before rock n roll
When we let, then we bet
On lester piggott when we met
We let the goldfish go
In the days before rock n roll
Fats did not come in
Without those wireless knobs
Fats did not come in
Without those wireless knobs
Elvis did not come in
Without those wireless knobs
Nor fats, nor elvis
Nor sonny, nor lightning
Nor muddy, nor john lee
In the days before rock n roll
In the days before rock n roll
When we let and we bet
On lester piggott 10/1
And we let the goldfish go
Down the stream
Before rock n roll
We went over the wavebands
Wed get luxembourg,
Luxembourg and athlone
Afm stars of jazz
Come in, come in, come in, ray charles
Come in, the high priest
In the days before rock n roll
In the days before rock n roll
When we let and we bet
On lester piggott 10 to 1
And we let the goldfish go
And then the killer came along
The killer, jerry lee lewis
A whole lotta shakin goin on,
Great balls of fire
Little richard
Justin, gentler than a man
Justin, justin, where is justin now?
Whats justin doing now?
Just, where is justin now?
Come aboard

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do you know My Dear?

Do you know My Dear?
The dew dropp that does not fall on the ground,

The mysterious dropp that surrenders inside the flower,
The dream dropp that hangs at the tip of a leaf,

The retiring dropp that collects at the edge of the eye,
It is nothing but the remains of our silent conversation!

poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can It Be Stopped

Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.

Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.

Can it be dropped.
Can it be stopped.

Hoodwinkers on the loose.
Hoodwinkers out to dupe too!
And...
Can they be stooped.

Crooked people after loot,
Proving they can low stoop.
But...
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can they be stopped.

Hoodwinkers on the loose,
Stooping low as they choose.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.
Can they can they dropp it.
Can it,
Be stopped.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drops Of Water, Drops Of Thought

Drops of water, Drops of thoughts
When eyes of sky rain
Each dropp has an angel
Carry the dropp somewhere
Each dropp has a special fate
When head of sky birth
Each brainchild has an angel
Carry the dropp to a brain
One dropp to write another on to paint
Each dropp has a special fate
All what we need is just to pray

poem by hosny Soliman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boner Etiquette

Please: be kind to boners. Nothing
ruins an evening quicker than catching
a glimpse of a demoralized boner
sobbing into his foreskin. Remember
the boner is always half full. Most
boners sleep upside down in caves,
ready to flutter into the world
at the dropp of a bra strap. Boners
move in packs—rarely will you see one
wandering alone in a train station.
Look closer and you’ll usually find
a second boner bobbing nearby. But
it’s the lone boner, the Oswald boner,
you must watch out for. Whatever
you do, don’t challenge it. Don’t
stare it directly in the eye.

poem by Jeffrey McDaniel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tear Drops Of Joy

Tear dropp of joy when a baby is bron
Tear dropp of joy when your mother and father tell you that they love you
Tear dropp of joy when my boyfriend bring me a dozen of roses
Tear dropp of joy when I see two people holding hands
Tear drops of joy when all the family come over for a sunday dinner
and I stand back and watch everyone enjoy every one
A Tear come down with joy.....

poem by Valentine White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Top Hat, White Tie And Tails

I just got an invitation through the mails:
"Your presence requested this evening, it's formal
A top hat, a white tie and tails"
Nothing now could take the wind out of my sails
Because I'm invited to step out this evening
With top hat, white tie and tails
I'm puttin' on my top hat
Tyin' up my white tie
Brushin' off my tails
I'm dudein' up my shirt front
Puttin' in the shirt studs
Polishin' my nails
I'm steppin' out, my dear
To breathe an atmosphere that simply reeks with class
And I trust that you'll excuse my dust when I step on the gas
For I'll be there
Puttin' down my top hat
Mussin' up my white tie
Dancin' in my tails

song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Top Hat, White Tie And Tails

I just got an invitation through the mails:
"Your presence requested this evening, it's formal
A top hat, a white tie and tails"
Nothing now could take the wind out of my sails
Because I'm invited to step out this evening
With top hat, white tie and tails
I'm puttin' on my top hat
Tyin' up my white tie
Brushin' off my tails
I'm dudein' up my shirt front
Puttin' in the shirt studs
Polishin' my nails
I'm steppin' out, my dear
To breathe an atmosphere that simply reeks with class
And I trust that you'll excuse my dust when I step on the gas
For I'll be there
Puttin' down my top hat
Mussin' up my white tie
Dancin' in my tails

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accorjins

Where have the old accorjins gone?
I was askin' the coves at the Show;
Matt from the Mallee an' Dandenong Don,
An' a score of the fellers I know
Ole fellers, like me - an' they're missin' 'em sore;
For this wireless, it never makes up
For the merry ole music we knowed of yore
When Brindle was a pup
As they puts it
An' Bravo collared the Cup.

Where are the old accorjins now
Like me father used to play?
Times when we rested from harrers an' ploughs
An' we made rare holiday.
Or Accorjin Alf, poor half-wit coot,
To the bush dance used to come
An' beat the time with his hobnail boot,
Like the top of an big bass drum
'Ladies' Chain!'
Keep time to the top o' the drum.

Pipe in the sou'-west side of his mouth,
Hat on the back of his head,
Alf 'ud be there, come flood, come drouth,
For the dance in the shearin' shed.
Leaky bellers an' keys all broke,
Reeds near wearin' away;
But they put the ginger into a bloke,
Them toons as he used to play.
Hum a couple.
Reel toons of an older day.

'Hie to the Weddin'' an' 'Belle Mahone,'
'Wait Till the Clouds Roll by' ...
An' me an' yer ma crep' out alone,
Out under the starlit sky
Aw, jazz an' the wireless, things like these
Is a wonder to men, alright.
But gimme that ole accorjin's wheeze,
An' the bush, and a starlit night.
Kin yeh hear it?
A mopoke's call in the night.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Top Hat, White Tie, & Tails

I just got an invitation through the mails:
Your presence requested this evening, its formal
A top hat, a white tie and tails
Nothing now could take the wind out of my sails
Because Im invited to step out this evening
With top hat, white tie and tails
Im puttin on my top hat
Tyin up my white tie
Brushin off my tails
Im dudein up my shirt front
Puttin in the shirt studs
Polishin my nails
Im steppin out, my dear
To breathe an atmosphere that simply reeks with class
And I trust that youll excuse my dust when I step on the gas
For Ill be there
Puttin down my top hat
Mussin up my white tie
Dancin in my tails

song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Top Hat, White Tie, & Tails

I just got an invitation through the mails:
Your presence requested this evening, its formal
A top hat, a white tie and tails
Nothing now could take the wind out of my sails
Because Im invited to step out this evening
With top hat, white tie and tails
Im puttin on my top hat
Tyin up my white tie
Brushin off my tails
Im dudein up my shirt front
Puttin in the shirt studs
Polishin my nails
Im steppin out, my dear
To breathe an atmosphere that simply reeks with class
And I trust that youll excuse my dust when I step on the gas
For Ill be there
Puttin down my top hat
Mussin up my white tie
Dancin in my tails

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Drop Your Garbage

Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!

Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!

Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you teach'.
With self righteous sighs.
Too many sitting on the edge are jumpy.
And twice as many want to fight.

Don't dropp your garbage.
Get from my door and get to steppin'.
Don't want to regret what I do.
I wish to keep that evil sleepin'.
Don't wake it up,
I ask of you!

Don't dropp your garbage at my front door.
Get to steppin' take it back.
No one seeks to hear your preaching.
Or your point of view described while you 'teach'.
With your self righteous sighs.

Too many sitting with an edge are jumpy.
And twice as many look to fight.

Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!

Don't dropp your garbage!
I'd like to keep myself polite.
Get away!
I don't want to get those demons screaming.
Or stir a yelling to disturb my peaceful night.

Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!

Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away...
And when you step,
Kiss the wind!
Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!

Don't dropp your garbage!
Get away,
And step!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here Just to Drop Off the Evidence

I can not tell you...
How, when or even why this happens.
I can only leave you in undisputed denial,
Since that is your gift!
Not mine to convince.

I'm here just to dropp off the evidence,
Of it!
Then split...
With an obtained focus,
Gained and maintained.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will stay split.

quote by Raymond Chandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Wells of Silence

In the wells of silence
a dropp of word
might stir
the whole tranquility
of the utter silence
and a dropp of sigh
might disturb the whole
serenity there
What about a dropp of God's sigh
and a dropp of Jesus' blood
combined?
That will be a new revolution! ! ! ! !

poem by Sangnam Nam
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