OH, WHAT A RELIEF IT IS
Life is just a dirty four-letter word: w-o-r-k. –J. P. McEvoy, writer/comic strip creator
- * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
If you have a job that stinks because your caseload is overwhelming (like maybe social work, child welfare or criminal court), you can probably relate to this:
http://thinkprogress.org/justice/2016/01/09/3737789/ohio-judge-poem-mocks-inmate/
If I’m any judge, that’s a Judge (and fellow Ohioan) who knows how to do creative “sentencing” — a Cain who is able, as Judge Cain himself might pun. As a poet, I see poetry as a way to express myself creatively, but the above case demonstrates that poetry is also good for getting a load off one’s mind. Take those times I’m on the throne, dumping a commodious b. m. — I’d liken it to killing two turds with one stone, because at times, it may be the only place I find peace and quiet to compose the poems I post….such as this com-post:
THE REAL POOP BEHIND THE FLOOD
Noah did build a mighty ark;
He worked by day and he worked by dark.
From lands afar he gathered pairs
Of kangaroos and polar bears,
Of groundhogs and water buffalo,
And every creature, bound to go
With him o’er deserts, swamps and seas,
Across the Alps and Pyrenees,
Taking those beasties from where they were at,
Straight to his ark for a cruise to Mount Ararat,
Got them on board, two of each species,
Ere long to amass a mess of feces,
And though the elephants brought their trunks,
Two hoses could but horse with a stench like skunks.
Fortunately, as much as decks stinked,
Dinosaurs and mastodons had become extinct.
But how do we know Noah knew their gender?
The pairs multiplied like rabbits by THE ENDer….
Michaeline Montezinos 12:47 am on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
Although I have not composed a poem when on the pot, I have to admire someone who has done it a lot. Unless I’m wrong and this was only one occurrence, I hope you face the throne with calm assurance. Very witty and punny poem mistermuse.. Thanks for enlighterning us about the critters on the Ark. I can picture Noah’s family and friends itching to find land after days parked on that hill with the stench growing stronger still .
LikeLiked by 1 person
mistermuse 8:28 am on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
For my poem to have inspired you to such eloquence, Michaeline, I can truly rest assured that my hard work on the throne was worth the effort. In fact, I think your rhyme is so sublime that you should run for Judge there in Florida and (as an ex-Ohioan) show Floridians how we put criminals — not to mention stool pigeons — in their place.
LikeLike
ladysighs 6:18 am on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
LOL
LikeLiked by 1 person
arekhill1 11:22 am on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
That judge is hard on your heels for the title of Poop Poet Laureate of your Midwestern state, Sr. Muse.
LikeLike
mistermuse 1:45 pm on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
Hopefully, as long as the judge keeps his day job on the bench and I keep my play job on the throne, I will remain Poop Poet Prince. I could say more, but that’s the long and shit of it, Ricardo.
LikeLike
Michaeline Montezinos 3:29 pm on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
Once you get going, Mister Muse, with the “Princely potty” jokes, you start to “roll.” Its okay with me as long ” you enjoy the go .” Those Charmin Bears on the television, which you said you did not always watch, are usually exclaiming how tidy, soft and complete their toilet tissue has been with their running to the “John.” Whomever John is I pity him. Mama Charmin Bear must make a lot of chili. I think she uses “kidney” beans. That explains the “running” and the copious supply of Charmin in her cupboard. I hope this mono log” has not discouraged you. After all is said and “done” you can also read newspaper. At the condo Where we lived before Florida, I discovered why our news paper disappeared before could go down stairs to retrieve it.
LikeLike
mistermuse 6:08 pm on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
I don’t remember saying anything about Charmin Bears, Michaeline — in fact, I bear-ly remember them on television at all. But I do think newspapers can serve as more than reading material – at least, that’s what I advise my wife when she tells me we’re running low on toilet paper. 🙂
LikeLike
Michaeline Montezinos 6:43 pm on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
I write so much that my computer “freezes.” Then I cannot finish or proofread what I wrote. That is a “bum”mer,. “Butt” at least I got the main idea of “what I was trying to get out.” Oh My! Now I can’t stop with the potty jokes and puns. Help! I am sinking into the doo doo of my life’s S##T Hole. I’ve gone from naughty to not nice. Sorry, mistermuse and others here on this web site. Me BAD !
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don Frankel 6:48 pm on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
We’ve always been told that it all comes out in the end but now I have to wonder… does it?
LikeLiked by 1 person
mistermuse 8:41 pm on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
It has been said that a pun is the lowest form of humor, which makes sense, if it all comes out in the end. But I agree with Oscar Levant, who said a pun is the lowest form of humor — when you didn’t think of it first.
LikeLike
Michaeline Montezinos 11:40 pm on January 20, 2016 Permalink |
Oscar Levant ==One funny dude. He appreciated the worthiness of the semi holey pun.
LikeLike
mistermuse 8:26 am on January 21, 2016 Permalink |
He was also an excellent pianist (and good friend of George Gershwin – I have an old 78 rpm record album of him playing Gershwin’s RHAPSODY IN BLUE).
LikeLike
Michaeline Montezinos 7:41 pm on January 22, 2016 Permalink |
When TCM has the movie about George Gershwin’s life, I watch it not so much for the acting. I love the music and like the tile of this movie RHAPSODY IN BLUE. I wait until the actor plays the title song and I can feel the sidewalks of New York, and see the bridges that span the Hudson River. I do not own any of the record but I do enjoy the magic of Gershwin’s songs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
BroadBlogs 5:58 pm on January 22, 2016 Permalink |
Clever.
I had never thought about this before, but good question: But how do we know Noah knew their gender?
LikeLiked by 1 person
mistermuse 8:52 pm on January 22, 2016 Permalink |
Not to mention: How do we know there was a Noah?
LikeLike
hooklineandinkwell 10:56 am on January 30, 2016 Permalink |
Brilliantly penned. I find the throne to be the quietest place where poet and thoughts assemble to flush the crap of the day away and out of it draw a breath of creativity. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
mistermuse 11:52 am on January 30, 2016 Permalink |
Thank you. I hope you’ve never had to write any “Dear John” letters on the throne. 🙂
LikeLike