got verse?

My Cousin's Bird

2005-12-19T15:39:00.000-08:00

I found out that my cousin
Had a soft spot in his heart
For a bird that he called Nikki
Who was extremely smart.

He kept him with him always
Close by, near at hand.
But the death was rather sudden
So his funeral was unplanned.

Well, he put him in a jar
And stored him in the trunk
Of his Honda Civic clunker
Along with some old junk.

'Twas really sometime later
That he moved that poor bird's nest
From his trunk to backyard soil
And put that bird to rest!

Yet I cannot help but wonder
What came first, the death or jar?
Did he take him on vacation
And forget him in his car?

...dave 12/18/2005

The Guy in the Glass

2005-05-30T19:54:00.000-07:00

When you get what you want in your struggle for pelf,
And the world makes you king for a day,
Then go to the mirror and look at yourself,
And see what that guy has to say.

For it isn't your father, or mother, or wife,
Whose judgment upon you must pass.
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life,
Is the guy staring back from the glass.

He's the fella to please, never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear up to the end.
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test,
If the guy in the glass is your friend.

You can fool the whole world through the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache, and tears,
If you've cheated the guy in the glass.

-anonymous

25th Anniversary by Eric Terry

2005-04-09T22:05:00.000-07:00

A half and two decades
And who could predict?
I'm nearly where you were
When this story first began

Now they tell me I'm the both of you
(My pupils draw arcs in my head)
But the truth is
That's the finest compliment.

I hope I'm like Dad,
Standards set on high,
Demanding the most myself can manage,
But less of those around.

Or maybe I mirror Mom,
A hard worker,
Quick-minded, slow-tempered,
Firm, but able to laugh

My childhood was painless:
I never saw a fight
Where words were weapons
In the lingual lunges of so many duels
That never end well.

And scolded tears were forgotten,
Flushed skin returned.
Their lessons, though, I learned forever:
I hold them in heart and head.

So many good memories
Locked in my chest
Like warm sand
Cradled between the toes

Hearing waves breathe
Against the shore,
A violet sunset
Lighting our Sunday picnic

Or tilting our heads back
For the flare of Friday rockets,
Exploding colorfully
Above a bay of swaying masts and sails

We thought it would go on,
But life twisted suddenly,
Sending us into the bustle
To fend for a new existence.

Of course, they lamented our fall:
Our happily ever after, lost.
But of what value was such a finale
Without the chapters before?

So it became an adventure!
Battling circumstance,
Growing stronger, closer.
We couldn't lose.

And who could foresee us now,
Watching the bloom of greens and pinks,
Dusting yellowed windowsills
Of a Southern spring's playful confetti?

Roads tangled among trees and brooks,
Leaves parching in crimson with every autumn.
Something foreign is now home.
How far away we are!

Far, and yet close.
So, though houses come and go,
Our home is constant.

-Eric J.K. Terry
4 April 2005

Pringle's Jingles

2005-01-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

There was a fellow named Pringle
Who thought he was carefree and single
He spent lots of time
Crafting poetry and rhyme
And web sites to mingle and jingle

(As a response to a friend's new www.poetrysoup.com web site.)

I watched them tear a building down

2005-01-01T21:04:00.000-08:00

I watched them tear a building down;
A gang of men in a busy town.
With a mighty heave and lusty yell,
They swung a beam and a side wall fell.

I said to the foremen, "Are these men as skilled
As the men you'd hire if you had to build?"
He gave a laugh and said, "No indeed!
Just a common laborer is all I need.
And I can wreck in a day of two
What it took the builder a year to do."

And I thought to myself as I went my way,
"Just which of these roles have I tried to play?
Am I a builder who works with skill and care
Building others up by the rule and square,
Or am I a wrecker as I walk the town
Content with the labor of tearing down?"

- Unknown

In Which House Do You Live?

2005-01-01T21:02:00.000-08:00

"I got two A's," the small boy cried,
His voice was filled with glee.
His father very bluntly asked,
"Why didn't you get three?"

"Mom, I've got the dishes done!"
The girl called from the door.
Here mother very calmly said,
"And did you sweep the floor?"

"I've mowed the grass," the tall boy said,
"And put the mower away!"
His father asked him, with a shrug,
"Did you clean off the clay?"

The children in the house next door
Seem happy and content.
The same things happened over there,
But this is how it went:

"I got two A's," the small boy cried,
His voice was filled with glee.
His father proudly said, "That's great!
"I'm glad you live with me!"

"Mom, I've got the dishes done!"
The girl called from the door.
Her mother smiled and softly said,
"Each day I love you more."

"I've mowed the grass," the tall boy said,
"And put the mower away!"
His father answered with much joy,
"You've made my happy day!"

Children deserve a little praise
For tasks they're asked to do.
If they're to lead a happy life,
So much depends on you.

- Unknown

My Buddy Came to Visit

2004-10-28T15:00:00.000-07:00

My buddy came to visit
Whom I haven't seen in years
I was in expectation
Of talk and two large beers

I fetched him from the airport
Himself, his wife, and bags
And dashed him to my guest room
To rest and 'chew the rag'

He asked for internet access
And being the gracious host
I gave his notebook access
He then became a ghost

I lost him in his iBook
My visiting buddy Joe
He stayed for 48 hours
And then said “cheerio”

I'm glad he came to visit
And now, of course, he's gone
But it's great times spent together
That keeps our friendship strong

- Dave Terry

There once was a fellow...

2004-10-27T15:06:00.000-07:00

There once was a fellow named Ted
Who tried to keep dates in his head
Like screws coming loose
It wasn't much use
So he totes them in here instead.

- Dave Terry
(Given to a friend along with a datebook.)

I Took Some Chinese Classes

2004-08-28T18:55:00.000-07:00

I took some Chinese classes
It hasn’t helped a bit.
It’s not my teacher’s problem
I think my head’s just thick.

My teachers gave me homework
With lessons on CDs.
I listened, threading traffic
Nearly causing casualties.

After hours of my homework
With a blank stare and a yawn
Chiu would listen to my comment
Then tell me it was wrong.

I tried to comment freely
Barely knowing what I said.
And judging by the faces
I’m just a bamboo head.

I memorized in Zhongwen
Bible Books for Laoshi Chu
Which I quickly have forgotten.
My brain cells have no glue.

I really am just joking
A big “thanks” to all of you
Medoko, Yuki, Rusan
Chisato and Laoshi Chiu.

And now that class is over
Things are starting to click.
It’s taken over six months
I guess my head’s just thick.

The Hamilton Knave

2002-05-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

There once was a fella name Dave
Who got up to shower and shave.
Thus making him late
And missing his date
With Phil, the Hamilton knave

- Dave Terry

We went away to Tahoe

2002-02-10T20:55:00.000-08:00

We went away to Tahoe,
My wife and son and I
To meet the Dillers and Mewetts
And Dolans by and by.

For the Dolans came one day late
At 11:00, I think,
Rested from a full night's sleep,
But Iris caught just a wink.

For the night before she fussed and stewed
About the cold damp house.
And so I went to gather wood
Accompanied by her spouse.

I've started many fires before
But not with Walter's wife.
Who chopped my kindling fire wood
With a regular beef steak knife

The next day saw a brighter look
With skiing in the sun.
All enjoyed the snow except
The guy who gimped his thumb.

Most had fun the next day with
A trip for coffee latte.
Except for the guy who gimped his thumb,
He was dropped at the house on the way!

The last day came in hours, it seemed.
Great food and friends enjoyed.
We dawdled over Sunday's brunch
But couldn't our packing avoid.

"We're leaving at One" Janet said
"And not a minute past!"
"Can't we leave at Two instead"
Said Scott, "I'll drive real fast!"

And so they left in a plume of smoke,
As dark as their black Ram.
With the Dolans chasing after them,
In a harried caravan.

And then we bid our hosts goodbye,
In teary-eyed adieu.
But the Dillers eyes twinkled joy,
For all had left but two!

- Dave Terry

Challenge: Write a poem using yellow

2001-09-02T20:57:00.000-07:00

There once was a disgruntled old fellow
"I don't like these colors" he bellowed
So just out of spite,
he mixed in some white
Thus increasiag the brightness of Yellow

There once was creative old fellow
Who said his dessert was too mellow
So adding some sticks
From a box of toothpicks
He stiffened the squares of his Jell-O.

There once was orchestra fellow
Who ate only deserts colored yellow.
To his conductor's dismay,
He ate as he played,
His jiggling yellow Jell-O cello.

- Dave Terry

My 21st Century Wife

2001-04-13T20:49:00.000-07:00

At 21 I married her
My 21st Century wife
I didn't know, what I know now
In my married life.

"There is a difference" said my spouse,
"From a 21st Century wife,
"And all the wives that came before
"To ease their husband's strife."

She told me this at lunch one day
My very knowledgeable wife.
While handing me unbuttered toast
And then a butter knife.

She talked of all those lazy men
My 21st Century wife
"Who never clean their dirty dishes
"And subsist on TV life."

"You see," she said "now women work"
"A fact men have ignored."
And handed me my wrinkled shirt
And then the ironing board.

I am so glad to know much more
Of 21st century ways
I am so glad to be with her,
For more than half my days.

Her knowledge of the 21st Century
From my mind won't flicker.
But I return to my threadbare chair
To work the TV clicker.

- Dave Terry

I Went To Find a Present

2001-04-12T20:51:00.000-07:00

I went to find a present for
My cherished wife, but nevermore
Could there be found a present that
Wasn't just a copy cat,
Of something else that she possessed
Or another thing that unimpressed
My careful eye or measured glance.
My purchase can't be happenstance!

I explored the malls and hunted stores
For a gift I think my love adores.
I've peered at glowing diamond rings,
Bracelets and anklets with fastenings.
I peered at jewelry dancing bright,
Becoming dizzy in twinkling light.

Alas, it was too trying for me
For my 16th anniversary
To find a gift that reflects the care
And love I feel for her so rare.

I've tried to show with gifts each year,
My warm admiration and love sincere
To a woman that's become my wife
And shared in love and stress and strife.

'Course happiness in truth depends,
On joining marriage of two good friends.
The valuable gift to give of all
Can't be found in a shopping mall.

I hope that she can understand
As I sit with her so close at hand,
My love will never go adrift,
This verse is what will be my gift.

- Dave Terry

Our Mother Made Lasagna

2001-02-04T20:47:00.000-08:00

Our mother made lasagna,
And then she went away.
She gave us full instructions.
We're left to find our way.

She wrote her notes on baggies,
Of prefabricated meals.
And put them in the freezer,
Under airlock seals.

We tried to follow closely,
All her helpful notes.
The meal looked very tasty,
Until it reached our throats.

The flour I mixed with water,
And dumped into the stew.
But it made it rather gummy,
And very hard to chew

This is not a great beginning.
The future looks real bleak.
We're growing very hungry.
But we've got another week!

- Dave Terry

Kevin's Tea Time

2000-07-01T20:49:00.000-07:00

I know of a fellow named Kevin
Who rises no later than seven.
From china too dinky
Extending his pinky,
He sips tea with fragrance from heaven.

Amidst a trellis of posies,
He contemplates life all rosy,
Ignoring his phone
He sits all alone
Except for his tea pot and cozy.

- Dave Terry

The Lutgring's Took us to Dinner

2000-05-06T20:53:00.000-07:00

The Lutgring's took us to dinner
Erik's Deli we feel was a winner
Saying "hello" and "good-bye"
Over Charlie's Cross Eye
Thus making our tummies less thinner

- Dave Terry

20th Anniversary by Eric Terry

2000-04-12T21:50:00.000-07:00

You got me a bike that I really like,
Spent your hard-earned money,
Got me that bike 'cause I wanted it,
'Cause hey, it's okay-I'm your sonny!

Energy is in me, lots of it I have,
I know I'm the least bit mild,
Enough you've had, I'm driving you mad,
But hey, it's okay-I'm your child!

You pitch in some cash when I'm in a dash,
To buy the latest toy,
Out I go, to spend that dough,
but hey, that's okay-I'm your boy!

The meal will be great, it'll be on your plate,
And after you'll weight a ton,
I'm treating this time, so sit back and dine,
'Cause Hey, it's okay-I'm your son!

Four your 20th Anniversary
4/2000 by Eric Terry

Brooklyn Heights Bridge

1999-08-01T20:58:00.000-07:00

A heaving, grieving mass of humanity
All afflicted with the same insanity
To cross the bridge in Brooklyn Heights
For one square foot they impetuously fight
What has caused this hopeless plight?

Love of money and dishonest gain
Is the root of their discontented disdain
These days, without further detection,
Are the last of imperfection.

- Dave Terry
(Written when NYC had a transit strike in 1979?)

Once upon a midnight dreary

1999-01-01T21:04:00.000-08:00

Once upon a midnight dreary,
Fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high,
and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets,
Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets,
Having reached the bottom line,
I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand,
I then invoked the SAVE command,
And waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering,
Long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning,
Turning yet to churn some more.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother!
Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphorous answer,
Only this and nothing more,
Just "Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion?
Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired,
ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed the choices,
As the disk made impish noises,
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting,
Baiting me to type some more,
Clearly I must press a key,
Choosing one and nothing more,
From "Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With my fingers pale and trembling
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending,
Hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee,
Timidly I pressed a key,
But on the screen there still persisted,
Words appearing as before,
Ghastly, grim, they blinked and taunted,
Haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off-guard.
I pressed again, but twice as hard
I pleaded with the cursed machine.
I begged and cried and then I swore.

Now in desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation,
Just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking,
Blinking nonsense as before.
Reading "Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat distraught, exhausted,
By my own machine accosted,
Getting up I turned away
And paced across the office floor.

And then I saw a dreadful sight;
A lightning bolt cut through the night,
A gasp of horror overtook me,
Shook me to my very core,
The lightning zapped my previous data,
Lost and gone forevermore.
Not even "Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know
The place to which lost data goes,
What demonic nether world is wrought
Where data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls,
Beyond the ether into black holes,
But sure as there's C, Pascal, and more,
You will one day be left to wander,
Lost on some Plutonian shore,
To "Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

- Unknown

If We Only Understood

1999-01-01T21:03:00.000-08:00

Could we draw aside the curtains
That surround each other's lives,
See the naked heart and spirit,
Know what spur the action gives…
Often we would find it better
Purer that we judge we would;
We would love each other better
If we only understood.

Could we judge all deeds by motives,
See the good and bad within,
Often we would love the sinner
All the while we loathe the sin.
Could we know the powers working
To overthrow integrity,
We would judge each other's errors
With more patient charity.

If we knew the cares and trials,
Knew the efforts all in vain,
And the bitter disappointments
Understood the loss and gain
Would the grim external roughness
Seem, I wonder just the same?
Would we help where we now hinder?
Would we pity where we blame?

Ah, we judge each other harshly,
Knowing not life's hidden force;
Knowing not the fount of action
Is less turbid at it's source.
Seeing not amid the evil
All the golden grains of good,
Oh, we'd love each other better
If we only understood.

- "Poems of Dawn" compiled by C. T. Russell (1912)

Machine Against Man

1990-12-25T19:12:00.000-08:00

In the beginning, Jehovah created
Our earth, then man, the Bible stated.
All was peaceful and perfectly serene,
Then man decided to create the Machine.

Now the machine is the ugliest of all the beasts.
It came and disrupted the beautiful peace.
"To help and assist the imperfect man."
At least, so was the original plan.

Yet unlike the perfect creations of God,
Man's devices were crude and rather roughshod.
Made with pulleys and gears, the earliest kind,
Were for the slackened hand and lazy mind.

Then these mutated to what is known today,
As the Computerized World, and so they say,
These could better man's lot, his horizons expand.
At least, so was the original plan.

But they frustrated his calm and placid life.
Evoked much pain, annoyance and strife.
The irascible man's final condition
Was worst than the first, and this latest addition
Rendered him hopeless and emotionally distraught
"My original plan, what has happened?" he thought.

Gathered from this, I have been told
"You're cynical, mocking, satirically cold"
"Toward the convenient contrivance of modern man"
"Without which, of course, you'd do nothing grand."

Convenient contrivance I do not deny
Are valuable devices upon which most men rely.
The point though I make and try to reveal
Is these incredible devices are far from ideal.

Examine now please, as this drama unfolds
Of man and device at opposite poles.
And find if you can yourself in this scene:
The Ongoing Battle of Man and Machine.

It was a beautiful day and spring was here.
Fresh air to breath, the birds singing near.
The opportune time to accomplish some good
And accomplish a great deal was understood.
At least, so was the original plan
Of this confidant, positive, determined man.

He nears now his machine with power and poise
Anticipating a hum, the din of noise
That assures him he has the fullest control.
It's felt in his bones it surges his soul.

His dominance is seen at the power switch.
At only his command it's powered on, and which
Even the most obstinate machine would succumb,
Or else, remain inactively numb.

Soon though, he'll tire of this fatiguing bore
Controlling these beasts is a taxing chore.
And try as he might, try as he can,
Things never run smooth like initially planned.

Right now he is happy and smugly content
Of the progress he's making, so little time spent!
The machine's running smoothly, purring like a cat,
Oh, here comes his boss for just a short chat.

"Your success" says his elder "is wonderful to see."
"I'll finish the job, it's a guarantee."
"Come take a look and see what I've done."
"You'd be as proud of me as you would your own son."

And now he demonstrates to this one in command
What has been accomplished. He must understand
That with this machine the limits are none.
By nothing and no one can it out done.

Not only that, but in half the time.
"Your viewing" says he "production sublime."
All this he graphically explains
To his boss in charge who attentively remains.

But wait! It appears something's not right.
A problem, a snag, this is affright.
"It must be remedied, immediately I fear."
"I've never seen anything like it so queer."

"Just a little adjustment is all that is needed."
"Yet it continues to ignore the commands I've repeated."
The solution escapes him, evading his grasp.
"I'm so confused" he says in a desperate gasp.

The trouble remains and seems to persist.
He can't solve it, it fights him, apparently insists
On controlling itself, for that matter man
Who helplessly struggles to do what he can.

"The wire seems loose, there's a short somewhere."
"Open those windows, let in some air."
"Oh those birds are so noisy and the sun is so bright."
"And nothing at all seems to be running right."

Yes, machine, like its maker is imperfectly defective.
And though he may start with an excellent objective
The age old battle of machine against man
Means things never go as originally planned.

-Dave Terry 1981