The Daily Poem

JUST PEEL ON DOWN THE RIBBON DAY

Hop in behind the four wheel drive

And get as far as you can get

Before your shiver-thoughts arrive

To pester you with trick regret

And boggle you with bogus debt,

The kind you never can repay,

And even if, you can't forget,

Just peel on down the ribbon day. 

Go sing a stretch of railroad jive

Refraining every phrase as yet

Unsung as if it was your live

Concerto down the tracks all set

To stage your vocal clarinet

Don't worry if you loose you way

The ties will hold the chords you fret,

Just peel on down the ribbon day.

Jump on and motor ship connive

Across the ocean's liquid slit

To pitch and roll, to breach and dive,

To slice the waves before they hit

And when the deck is buried let

It be as free as you to sway

Full tilt and leaning from your jet

Just peel on down the ribbon day.

And when you go don't try to fit

Some rubric rudder down to stay

The course and minimzie roulette,

Just peel on down the ribbon day.

D. Edgar Lamp

The Daily Poem - 345

Ballade

Hemet, California

Lat: 33.75, Long: -117.00

JOURNAL:  I left Mimi on the couch bundled up under a pile of blankets eating breakfast with her parents.  Dropped the car off at Gosch Toyota for it's routine maintenance (140,000 miles)...and a new windshield.  Lorrin drove me up to the Hemet Valley Mall in the Courtesy Shuttle.  He's seen a bit of the world in the Navy.  Sent an inquiry to Zara, the trekking company that Lori Craven used for her Kilimanjaro climb.  Hung out in Hemet all day, finally deciding to leave the car overnight in order for them to get everything done.  Mimi came down and picked me up.  David called.  Talked a few minutes about this and that.  Spicy chicken, homemade biscuits and salad for supper.  Ivan and Virginia went upstairs early and Mimi cozied up on the couch.  I'm reading "Morning Poems" by Robert Bly.  I've really lost my taste for non-metered verse.  I can't imagine anyone reciting any of these poems one hundred years from now. 

~ The Daily Poet

THE FOURTH FLIGHT

A helicopter built for one

Was parked beside a golden tent;

The note attached read, “Just For Fun.”

The envelope, “Informed Consent.”

The box was labeled, “Cinnamon Bun.”

And I arrived with great delight,

Not knowing why or whose intent,

But leaped aboard and took my flight.

The blue propellers blithely spun

And braved me through a swift ascent,

Till landing in a spot of sun

I asked myself, “To what extent

Have you gone mad or come undone?”

You’ve gentled on this towering height

Beside a glider’s soon descent…”

I leaped aboard and took my flight.

I lofted out through evening sun,

A serpentine of timing spent,

Until at last though just begun

I wafted in on slick cement

With visions clearly all-for-one.

But there a pontoon flier kite

Enticed me with its wind-filled vent:

I leaped aboard and took my flight.

Just as I made my sea-wing run,

There drew beside me slow and light,

The Giant Osprey Diver sent—

I leaped aboard and took my flight.

~ D. Edgar Lamp (Ballade)