Updates from September, 2020 Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • mistermuse 1:05 am on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , Peter Pan, , , , ,   

    YOU ASKED FOR IT! YOU GOT IT! 

    My last post featured poetry which one of you commented that you wanted more of. So, it is by popular demand (who am I to deny my adoring readers?) that my Fats friend and I are bound to reply:

    The initials of that reader are mm. No, mistermuse isn’t the mm who asked for more. If you must know, it was magicmermaid, who I assume is a real person (not that mistermuse isn’t real — as real, at least, as magicmermaid….or as you, for that matter). You are real, aren’t you? — if not, just pretend you are, because mistermuse can use the reassurance.

    THE FAUX PAS OF POSITIVE THINKING

    “Doubt is not a pleasant mental state, but certainty is a ridiculous one.” –Voltaire

    I can live with
    Uncertainty and doubt —
    It’s know-it-alls
    I have my doubts about.

    THE PETER PRINCIPLE

    “I am not young enough to know everything.” –Sir James M. Barrie (author of the play subtitled The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up)

    Sorry that things didn’t quite Pan out
    (except in Neverland….or thereabout).

    HOW TO BETTER CULTIVATE KNOWLEDGE

    “Scholars esteem knowledge not for its use in attaining other values, but as a value in itself.” –Max Eastman

    Know,
    Weigh,

    Hoe
    Say.

    KNOW PROBLEM

    “If reality wants to get in touch, it knows where I am.” –Phil Proctor

    But if reality says,
    “Hello there, it’s me” —
    How would you know
    Absent a show of real ID?

     

     

     

     

     

     

     
    • Notes To Ponder 2:14 am on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Most excellent. ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 3 people

    • obbverse 3:03 am on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Enjoyed the wordplay muchly. May I add an offering on Peter Pan?
      See Ya Late-
      Pity poor pre-adolescent Peter Pan,
      Never fated to become a full grown man-
      Sadly remembered as a smart-mouthed juvenile,
      NOW he’d say ‘kids, don’t ever bait the crocodile.”

      Liked by 2 people

    • Rivergirl 7:15 am on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      โ€œIโ€™m not young enough to know everythingโ€ is a wonderful quote!

      Liked by 3 people

    • magickmermaid 10:34 am on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Thanks, MisterMuse! I wish everyone would follow my suggestions so readily. ๐Ÿ˜€
      Yet another reason why I don’t have a webcam. All and sundry would have seen me hopping around the livingroom to the Fats Waller tune! If he can’t make you dance, no one will!

      Liked by 4 people

    • Rosaliene Bacchus 3:13 pm on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Love them all, MisterMuse, especially “The Faux Pas of Positive Thinking” ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 3:36 pm on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        Likewise, Rosaliene. I was kind of partial to “Know Weigh Hose Say”….but when Josรฉ say “No way!”, I changed my mind.

        Liked by 1 person

    • annieasksyou 11:11 pm on September 10, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      When magickmermaid, the Siren
      Called mistermuse to play
      The result was a fun environ
      So, โ€œyes way,โ€ I say.

      Liked by 3 people

      • mistermuse 12:47 am on September 11, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        I didn’t know you’re a poet —
        Or should I say, a poetess.,,,
        But any way you weigh it,
        You’re no damsel in distress.

        Liked by 1 person

    • calmkate 2:14 am on September 11, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      very clever … I’m sure I’ve asked for more overtime … guess I dont have the magic touch!

      Liked by 1 person

    • Elizabeth 4:56 pm on September 12, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      I am not sure if I like the first one best or not. Better not be sure!

      Liked by 2 people

    • mistermuse 6:09 pm on September 12, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      I’m not sure how to respond to that, Elizabeth — but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      Like

    • masercot 8:45 am on September 14, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      The outcome is most obscure
      unless I’m sure

      When my confidence is at its height
      I probably haven’t done anything right…

      Liked by 2 people

    • mistermuse 11:42 am on September 14, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Compared to Trump,
      you’re ahead of the game —
      he NEVER does anything right
      and he’s never ever to blame.

      Liked by 1 person

    • arekhill1 10:32 am on September 15, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      If there ever was a year that reality got in touch, it’s this one, Sr. Muse.

      Liked by 2 people

    • mistermuse 3:49 pm on September 15, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      I fear the worst of the year is yet to come after Nov. 3, no matter the election results.

      Like

    • Ana Daksina 11:41 pm on October 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Really is as really does, so Iโ€™m really glad Iโ€™m not really sure that Iโ€™m real. But hereโ€™s some reassurance anyway, for ya: โ€œThere, there, dear…โ€ ๐Ÿคค

      Liked by 1 person

  • mistermuse 1:01 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: groundhog, , , platitudes, , , ,   

    FOR THE TIME BEING 

    It’s been some time since I laid some poetry on you, but all good things must end (i.e., your luck has run out). What I’m getting at is, I’ve decided to resurrect a few old poems, as well as come up with a new one or two. If you object, you have the right to remain Soylent* because….

    *Soylent: foodstuff made of soybeans and lentils

    A POEM OF EXCEPTIONAL TASTE

    Soybeans and lentils — what a treat!
    I can think of nothing I’d rather eat!*
    Just savor the flavor — they can’t be beat*….
    But then, I’m a groundhog, so I don’t eat meat.

    *except for watermelon: https://riversworld.live/2020/09/04/summer-means-watermelon/

    I’LL TAKE A BRAINCHECK

    “The difference between intelligence and wisdom is that intelligence is knowing half of what you hear or read is garbage, and wisdom is knowing which half.” –Seymour Fisher

    From dilemmas of that class,
    You’ll have to exempt me —
    I’m still stuck on “Is the glass
    Half full or half empty?”

    WISE-ASS PLATITUDES

    Utmost is the wisdom of the platitude —
    But most, sadly, are lacking in latitude.
    Is there never need for deviance?
    I think I shall file a grieviance!
    The grounds? Let’s just say they have an ATTITUDE.

    LONG TIME, NO SEE

    Youth is the stuff of time and place
    The race of years cannot erase,
    Seen through eyes too unwise to see
    That all was not what it seemed to be.

    Age is the stuff of hedging bets,
    Of things undone and old regrets,
    Seeing ourselves as others do,
    Thinking “And so, what else is new?”

     

     
    • blindzanygirl 1:17 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Brilliant. I love โ€˜em

      Liked by 5 people

    • calmkate 2:48 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      give me lentils and soybeans any day … love SFs quote, says it all!
      Like the clip ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 6:56 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        That’s not the first time I’ve used that song. Here’s the clip of I DON’T CARE (sung by Judy Garland) in a post from Jan. 2019:

        Liked by 2 people

    • rawgod 4:03 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      • Just curious, was the soylent green? or just silent?

      And might I suggest ATTITUDE with an ATTTITTUDDE, dude?

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 7:17 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        Maybe this answers your first question:

        Your second question is a bit of a stretch, in my HUMBLE opinion.

        Like

    • Rivergirl 7:05 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Ode to a woodchuck?
      Love it!

      Liked by 2 people

      • rawgod 9:38 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        Actually, Owed to a Woodchuck! But as usual for non-humans, the woodchuck never got the royalties…

        Liked by 1 person

        • mistermuse 10:00 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink

          Rivergirl did share her watermelon with the woodchucks, to whom I’m sure watermelon in the paws is worth royalties in the bush.

          Like

    • Rivergirl 7:13 am on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Immortalized in poem?
      The woodchucks are honored.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Eliza 5:35 pm on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      This made me smile
      I like the definition of wisdom…

      Liked by 2 people

    • magickmermaid 6:19 pm on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      One of the worst films I’ve ever seen was that terrible one called Soylent Green.
      I didn’t know I had a theme song. ๐Ÿ™‚
      More poetry, please!

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 6:56 pm on September 5, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        “More poetry”? You talked me into it, mm — more poetry coming up (but I won’t say how soon, as I don’t want to lose any readers who haven’t recovered from this post yet).

        As for your “theme song,” here’s an alternative in case you want to upgrade from I DON’T CARE:

        Like

    • arekhill1 4:39 pm on September 6, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      Nicely written, Sr. Muse.

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 6:19 pm on September 6, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        Gracias, Ricardo. As the lyrics of the above song say, “I should care — and I do.”

        Like

    • Ana Daksina 1:41 pm on September 15, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      I have no grieviance with this work!

      PS โ€” The reader who wants โ€œmore poetryโ€ is a keeper

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 4:11 pm on September 15, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        Thanks, Ana. Actually, all my readers (including you) are keepers….and even though I enjoy my job as a “you” keeper and get well paid in Likes and Comments, I wouldn’t object to an occasional cash bonus! ๐Ÿ˜‰

        Liked by 1 person

        • Ana Daksina 9:17 pm on September 15, 2020 Permalink

          Youโ€™d have no greviance with it? ๐Ÿคฃ

          Liked by 1 person

        • mistermuse 10:09 pm on September 15, 2020 Permalink

          If by “it”, you mean my previous comment, I do have second thoughts, in that (unlike “grieviance” in the WISE-ASS PLATITUDES poem in the post) it didn’t come off as well as I intended. Even so, I won’t turn down an “additional cash bonus” for trying.

          Like

    • masercot 11:47 am on September 16, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      That first one had Rivergirl written all over it…

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 12:34 pm on September 16, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        You got that ‘write’ — her SUMMER MEANS WATERMELON post of Sept. 4 was my ‘inspiration’ for the first poem.

        Like

  • mistermuse 1:06 am on August 20, 2020 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , ,   

    TRUMP IN A NUTSHELL 

    He can’t bother to feel his fellow man’s pain —
    It means nothing to him, if there’s nothing to gain.

    He has no need to keep track of his legion of lies —
    Who can keep up with/swat down ceaseless swarms of flies?

    He doesn’t believe that certain ‘difFerEnt’ people belong —
    He doesn’t even see difference between right and wrong.

    What does he believe? That’s easy to see —
    He believes above all that “It’s all about ME.”

     

     

     
  • mistermuse 9:20 pm on July 12, 2020 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Age before beauty, , , , ,   

    PRIME RHYME, NO FIB (AND THAT’S THE RIB) 

    How about something I’ve not done for some time:
    Post a post so sublime, it don’t do nothing but rhyme.
    If I chose prose that’s verbose — longer than a rose is not a nose —
    What woes ‘twould expose, such that who knows how big it grows?

    Thus I propose, pun in hand, to avoid overflows
    And sink to new lows, to the confusion of my foes.
    So, friends, meat my poems that may stop on a dime;
    Just remember this tickler: not all ribs are prime.

    I WILL ONLY STOOP SO LOW

    I don’t do windows;
    I don’t do lawns —
    But when I doo-doo,
    I do do johns.

    AGE BE FOR BEAUTY

    Bald is beautiful —
    Or, so they say —
    But my head is only
    Bald half-way.

    Thus, I look forward,
    The more I age,
    To looking better
    At every stage.

    POST MORT ‘EM

    The world, it go to pot;
    Life literate is shot.
    O, woe is my bon mot….
    Bon mort, and thanks a lot!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     
  • mistermuse 12:08 am on April 17, 2020 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , ,   

    HAIKU!….GESUNDHEIT! 

    Pardon me while I celebrate INTERNATIONAL HAIKU POETRY DAY. Haiku, as you know, is a three-line poem of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, which happens to total 17, which happens to be this day of the month, which happens to be INTERNATIONAL I-Already-Told-You-What DAY. So, here are a few lowbrow examples of haiku, guaranteed to ruin your appetite for haiku for the for-eatable future. If you have trouble swallowing any of these, feel free to wash it down with a swig of your favorite beverage, followed by a quart of milk of magnesia. If that doesn’t relieve your groan, you’re on your own.

    ONE TOO MANY (syllables)

    Excuses may be
    easy to make…but they don’t
    make up for your mistake.

    A NEAR MYTH

    Once upon a time
    I tried to make a haiku
    rhyme. Maybe next time.

    HAIKU ON THE HUSTINGS

    Politician beams,
    waves to crowd of strange faces…
    he’s been here before.

    Had enough? Believe it or not, it could always be worse:

     

     

     

     
  • mistermuse 12:04 am on October 7, 2019 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , Bald Is Beautiful, , clip joint, corruption, , hair loss, haircut, , , Lost Horizon, , quid pro quo, , Rudy Giuliani, ,   

    BALD AND FREE — HOW CAN THAT BE? (subtitle: The Bald And The Beautiful) 

    Nothing makes a woman feel as old as watching the bald spot increase on the top of her husband’s head. –Helen Rowland

    • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    Oct. 7 is BALD AND FREE DAY, but personally, I’m not sure what one has to do with the other. I’m mostly bald, all right, but how free is a married man like me? Of course, I’m just kidding — my wife lets me out of my cage for an hour a week, even though I keep getting balder….and making her feel older. Maybe I shouldn’t be using that hour to get a haircut.

    HEADLONG RETREAT

    As the years go by, my barber
    Takes less and less time with my hair
    Which only serves to remind me
    That there’s less and less of it there.

    To be sure, I’m not the only one whose predicament may become a hair-raising experience:

    That gave me a headache just watching it. If only I could trust the dubious ads that involve spending my moo-lah to get to the root of the problem, I might risk springing for mo-hair….but snake oil aside, there must be a less painful way to restore a Lost Hairy zone:

    Hmm. I wonder whether that great humanit-hairian, Donald Trump, would mind parting with some of his spare hair if I could dig up some skullduggery by his political opponents? For example, much corruption has been reported in the Caribbean nation of Hairti — and it’s surely a lock that all of the Democratic Presidential contenders are involved. All I’d have to do is send my nosey friend, Fruity Giuliani, there on behalf of our Pres with a quid pro-boscis that the Pres of Hairti can’t ignore.

    On second thought, if Agent Orange went to my head, my wife might think I’m losing it along with my hair. I might as well keep to my cage, skip my weekly trip to the clip joint, and try to console myself that, after all is said and done….

    Now, if I can only convince my wife.

     
  • mistermuse 9:40 am on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , Hickory dickory dock, , , , , ,   

    THE ART OF BAD POETRY 

    Oscar Wilde quote: “All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.” Maybe so, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.

    A few days ago, in pondering the possibility of posting a post of putrid poetry for BAD POETRY DAY (August 18th), I took the precaution of reviewing a decade (my blog began in 2009) of August posts to make sure I hadn’t previously perpetrated poetic perfidy on unsuspecting readers on this day. Unluckily for you , I found that I’ve never posted a post on Aug. 18, so we’re good to go….make that, I’mย good to go.ย Or bad to go.ย You have to stay, because if you don’t, you’ll break my poor art — and that wouldn’t be polite.

    Perhaps you think that my calling bad poetry an art
    doesn’t pass the smell test, like calling passing gas a fart.

    Not to put you on the spot, but was that a bad-ass poem, or what?
    Granted, it has a perfect rhyme, but is that such a crime?
    As bad poetry, I still say it’s sublime….speaking of which, I’ll have you know there are actually high-class contests to determine how low a bad poem can get, such as:

    With that behind us, it’s time we get back to sum-more of my cool august poetry:

    CLOCKING OUT

    Hickory, dickory, dock,
    The doc ran up the rock.
    The rock was more slippery
    Than doc’s hickory dickory,
    So down he fell, which cleaned his clock.

    HAIR APPARENT

    A Whig party wig
    Is my saving grace —
    It diverts your gaze
    Away from my face.

    I WILL ONLY STOOP SO LOW

    I don’t do windows,
    I don’t do lawns —
    But when I doo-doo,
    I do do johns.

    And with that, I bid you a fond adieu-doo.

     

     
    • Carmen 10:20 am on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      • she chuckles *

      Of course you know I’ll have to offer my favourite poem (by Sheree Fitch, of Nova Scotia)

      TOES IN MY NOSE

      I stuck my toes in my nose and couldn’t get them out
      It looked a little strange and people began to shout
      “Why would you ever?”
      “My goodness I never!”
      They got in a terrible snit.

      “It’s simple” I said, as they put me to bed –
      “I just wanted to see if they FIT!”

      Liked by 4 people

      • mistermuse 10:45 am on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Thank you for that beautiful bad poem, Carmen. It calls to mind this golden oldie:

        You’re a poet
        though you don’t know it
        but your feet show it —
        they’re Longfellows.

        HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

        Liked by 2 people

    • equipsblog 11:29 am on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Your last poem is so bad it’s actually good.

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 11:46 am on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      To quote the late author and critic D.B. Wyndham Lewis, “There is bad Bad Verse and good Bad Verse.” Hopefully he would have agreed with you that my last poem fits the latter category.

      Like

    • Rivergirl 1:22 pm on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      When it comes to bad… youโ€™re very good.

      Liked by 1 person

    • D. Wallace Peach 1:48 pm on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Chelsea Owens here on WP runs a weekly terrible poetry contest that is a total hoot. Much in line with the rhymes you posted. Lol. If you ever need a laugh in these dark days of Trump, there are plenty of bad poets willing to share their terribleness. ๐Ÿ˜€ Thanks for the clip about intolerable moo too.

      Liked by 1 person

    • calmkate 7:20 pm on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Only you could pull off bad poetry with such aplomb!

      Liked by 1 person

    • obbverse 7:21 pm on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Always a pleasure to read bad poetry- or so my proof reader tells me. Seriously, it is a pleasure to read. No doubt you’re aware of William McGonagle, the high/low mark of all bad poets He tried so hard to write well, in his so earnest po-faced way. That makes it all the more hilarious.

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 9:12 pm on August 18, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Thanks. McGonagall had this in common with all bad poets: he was clueless that his poetry was bad. Still, I don’t mean that uncharitably — bad poets ‘gotta live too,’ and for all I know, maybe it keeps many of them out of trouble (although we all know a certain very bad tweeter who makes a lot of trouble for others).

        Like

    • America On Coffee 2:36 am on August 22, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I kind of like bad poetry. Composition charisma is what it has. ๐Ÿ’•

      Liked by 1 person

    • magickmermaid 12:04 pm on August 22, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Hooray for bad poetry! Groaning ๐Ÿ˜€

      Liked by 1 person

    • barkinginthedark 4:17 am on August 26, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      oy!
      oh boy!
      hoy hoy floy floy
      i may just be the hoi polloi
      but i really truly did enjoy.

      continue…

      Liked by 1 person

  • mistermuse 12:00 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bucket truck, feet, Footloose and Fancy Free, , kick the bucket, , one foot in the grave, , , , Richard Himber Orchestra (Stuart Allen vocal), , song,   

    ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOT TALK? 

    When I was young, I never thought about getting old (a stage of life known as having one foot in the grave — almost curtains). So, having two feet in the grave was the last thing on my mind. Now I’m a senior citizen, and I’m still not ready to kick the bucket, but my feet are killing me like I am about to kick bucket — or, with my luck it (this bucket) kicks me:

    Foot cramps, ingrown toenails, fungus among-us, smelly feet (you know this from my last post) — it’s like I got my feet at the Bad Feet Store. You name it, my feet are treating me like a heel. Don’t laugh — someday you may walk in my shoes, and then you’ll know the agony of de feet and be the sole of remorse for not seeing fit to empathize. But I guess you’ll cross that footbridge when you come to it.

    Having retired from a desk job, I didn’t spend most of my life upon my feet, so my tootsies aren’t letting me down because of being mistreated. Likewise, I’ve seldom, if ever, worn high heels (I may have BEEN a heel a time or two, but that’s a different story). I don’t know — maybe I’m finally footing the bill for writing such poems as this:

    All humans have more than one foot,
    Unless one has less than two.
    One can trust I count two on me —
    More or less, can one count on you?

    Groan. I guess my days of being this are over:

     

     

     
    • Paul Sunstone 1:35 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I was forced to forward your post to the proper authorities on the grounds it was exceeding the legal pun limit.

      Liked by 4 people

    • calmkate 7:17 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      how footuitous that you have both feet in the grave, are down in the heel and obviously in need of a swift shoe up the posterior IMHO ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 9:36 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Fortunately, I only have one foot in the grave, calmkate. When I have two feet in the grave, I won’t be replying to your comments (or anyone else’s, for that matter). ๐Ÿ™‚

        BTW, “one foot in the grave” is an expression which dates back to the 17th century, which makes it almost as old as I am. It means ‘near death’ (like most of my puns).

        Liked by 1 person

        • calmkate 8:47 pm on March 20, 2019 Permalink

          had no idea the term or you were so prehistoric, nice chatting with a dinosaur ๐Ÿ™‚

          Liked by 1 person

    • masercot 8:23 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      “You need feet, to stand up straight with,
      You need feet, to kick your friends,
      You need feet, to keep your socks up,
      And stop your legs from, fraying at the ends.” – “You Need Feet” Edwin Carp

      Liked by 3 people

      • mistermuse 9:43 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Not to Carp, masercot, but did you have to come up with a poem that’s more better than mine in the post (not that difficult to do, I admit)? But I appreciate it, nonetheless. ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

    • rivergirl1211 8:24 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      My name is River… and I have bunions. Donโ€™t get me started on feet! My issues started when I was 40 and thatโ€™s just not fair!

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 9:51 am on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        I wish I could tell you a cure, River, but when it comes to bunions, I don’t know my onions. I can only hope that these punions are so bad, they make you forget your bunions for a while.

        Liked by 1 person

    • Richard A Cahill 12:08 pm on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      It’s living in Ohio that’s hurting your wheels, Sr. Muse. Move to a warmer clime, like I’ve lived in most of my life, and liberate those tootsies from the confines of shoes at, least nights and on weekends. Flip-flops never gave anybody bunions.

      Liked by 2 people

    • mistermuse 2:47 pm on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Unfortunately, a move to a warmer clime isn’t in my foreseeable future, Ricardo, but if I can just hang around for another century or so, global warming will have moved to me, thereby saving me the trouble.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Elizabeth 4:03 pm on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      My sympathy. We have frequent user discounts at the podiatrist!

      Liked by 2 people

    • magickmermaid 6:43 pm on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      A great post and a toe-tapper of a tune! ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 10:43 pm on March 20, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Glad you liked both. The composer of the tune was Carmen Lombardo, brother of Guy Lombardo. He was the lead saxophonist in Guy’s orchestra, which you may remember because it was one of the most popular dance bands of all time for many years.

        Liked by 1 person

    • Silver Screenings 9:49 am on March 23, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      The song you posted, “Footloose and Fancy Free”, is a great start to the day. Thanks for that!

      And thanks for the Bucket Truck video โ€“ I mean it. It’s fascinating! Now I want to ride in one.

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 10:48 pm on March 23, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Glad you enjoyed both the song and the Bucket Truck video, which I was lucky to stumble upon as a good fit for this post. Some amusement park should come up with a version of the Bucket Trucks for a kids’ ride (including us adult kids)!

        Liked by 1 person

    • equipsblog 5:51 pm on April 6, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I’d hate to foot the bill for this entertaining post, because if we have to pay by the pun, it’s very expensive.

      Liked by 2 people

      • mistermuse 7:06 pm on April 6, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        I see that the latest post on your blog is titled “ImPUNity” (my caps) — a pun so bad that I should probably pay you. But by recommending that my readers check out your blog, suppose we call it even. ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 11:31 pm on April 6, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Actually, “Its” is pronounced “Itz”….but it’s the pits in both cases, so I’ll call it a night before I get in any deeper. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

      Liked by 1 person

    • JosieHolford 8:58 am on August 26, 2020 Permalink | Reply

      When the British politician, and future Labour Party leader, Michael Fool won his first election in 1945 he received a telegram;

      “Dear Foot, Congratulations on your feat.”

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 12:53 pm on August 26, 2020 Permalink | Reply

        Love it!

        He – Foot – avoided the agony of de feat
        (no pun in my post is too bad to repeat).

        Like

  • mistermuse 12:01 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , Auguste Rodin, Bessie Smith, , , NO BRAINER DAY, poet, President, , Rene Descarte, , , , , thought, ,   

    NO BRAINER DAY 

    I think, therefore I am. –Renรฉ Descartesย 
    I overthink, therefore I post.
    –mistermuse

    • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    Lately, I’ve been burning too much mental energy cooking up posts to roast Trump (e.g., I almost said toast rump); the heat is turning my face red and giving me the thinking blues:

    Frankly, friends, I think I need to cool it before the strain becomes a drain on my brain and gives me a pain. Fortunately, Feb. 27 is NO BRAINER DAY — a perfect day to post a post which requires little or no thinking. But before you Trump reprobates snidely ask how that would make this post any different from my previous posts, answer me this: how much thought do you think The Donald gives his tweets? Even a smart-ask Trumpite should allow that mistermuse be entitled to one day of devoting the same paucity of gray matter to his post that your Orange Oligarch devotes to his tweets everyย day.

    With that in mind, I’m giving the rest of this tome over to posting what others thought when they thought about thinking/not thinking. Do I think their thinking will make you think you’re thinking what I’m thinking about thinking/not thinking? Just a thought.

    So, let’s get quoting before I change my mind and start thinking again:

    I think that I think; therefore, I think I am. –Ambrose Bierce

    [I think that I think, therefore] I yam what I yam. –Popeye the Sailor Man

    Thereย is no expedient to which a man will not go to avoid the labor of thinking. –Thomas Edison

    Ours is an age which is proud of machines that think, and suspicious of men who try to. –Howard Mumford Jones

    The best way [for a woman] to win a man is to make him think you think as much of him as he does. –Evan Esar

    In America, we say what we think, and even if we can’t think, we say it anyhow. –Charles F. Kettering

    In closing, did you know Rodin’s THE THINKER was originally called THE POET:

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thinker

    I happen to know that THE POET didn’t appreciate the name change, thus this reaction:

    Mused The Poet to a passing skunk,
    “What good is being called The Thinker?
    To some day convey the aura of a President,
    It should Don the wrap, like you, of The Stinker.”

     

     

     
    • calmkate 12:20 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Kettering says it best … take deep breaths, calm down … your blood pressure is thru the roof young man โค

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 1:39 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I think what Kettering said applies more to Trump and his supporters, Kate. How does one calm down so long as such a dangerously immoral man remains in power? Call me overly concerned, but Like Popeye (and Trump), “I yam what I yam.”

      Like

      • Yeah, Another Blogger 9:06 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        I’m with you on Trump. He stinks up the joint.

        Neil Scheinin

        Liked by 1 person

        • mistermuse 9:51 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink

          You got that right, Neil. The most worrying thing is that the joint he stinks up is The White House.

          Correction: he stinks up the country, if not the whole world.

          Liked by 2 people

    • scifihammy 8:13 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I like Your quote. ๐Ÿ˜€

      Liked by 1 person

    • rivergirl1211 9:18 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Youโ€™ve given me a lot to think about there…

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 9:43 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        You go, rivergirl!

        On second thought, stay — I need all my brilliant, witty, adorable followers (and you too)! ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

    • mlrover 9:32 am on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I think, therefore I am. –Renรฉ Descartes or I overthink, therefore I post. –mistermuse
      I like yours better.

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 12:40 pm on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Manoloprofe, thank you for the like. I read your latest post about William Tell, but there appears to be no way to leave responses on your blog, so I’ll leave my response here:

      Like

    • Eliza 2:54 pm on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Thanks for the smiles
      Happy Wednesday
      Love, light and glitter

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 6:39 pm on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Thanks for the comment. I’ll take the love and the light, but leave the glitter to pop artists and Hollywood celebs who (apparently) can never have enough!

        Take care, and remember what Abe Lincoln said: “Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.” ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

    • Richard A Cahill 10:46 pm on February 27, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I think you failed to write a trump-free post, Sr. Muse. As far as wishing not to abuse Trump in prose, been there, tried to do that, failed miserably myself. I feel your pain.

      Liked by 1 person

    • magickmermaid 7:41 pm on February 28, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      A very well-thought out post! ๐Ÿ˜€

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 7:50 pm on February 28, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I think so too, therefore I thank you! ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

    • masercot 7:38 am on March 1, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I do love me some Bessie Smith…

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 12:48 pm on March 1, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Hopefully, there’s something here to please every reader (except Trump supporters, some of whom may know how to read, and happen upon this post).

        Liked by 1 person

    • Resa 8:34 pm on March 3, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Nice post! I like the Popeye “Yam am”
      Don’t hear much about Popeye, anymore. He’s too, anchored in the past. ๐Ÿ˜€
      My cat is named Jeep, after Eugene the Magical Jeep! True!

      Liked by 1 person

    • mistermuse 10:57 pm on March 3, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Sorry to say, I’ve never heard of Eugene the Magical Jeep. However, I have heard of Puff the Magic Dragon, so I hope that counts for something! ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

    • Paul Sunstone 2:03 am on March 4, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I’ve come to believe that for most of us, “thinking” is not much different than exploring the insides of our boxes. The boxes our parents, teachers, peers, culture, etc. give us to play around inside of. Now and then, we make an important discovery. “The walls are brown!”

      Liked by 2 people

    • Susi Bocks 12:27 am on March 7, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      I think I need to think about all this carefully. ๐Ÿ˜‰ BTW, “I overthink, therefore I post.” Spot on, Mister Writer! I thoroughly enjoyed your mini-rant. May you be able to de-stress a bit.

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 9:36 am on March 7, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Well, Susi, I think you should know I think so much of you, I’m adding an ‘e’ (for ‘esteemed’) to your name:

        ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

    • Silver Screenings 11:08 am on March 7, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Hey, I didn’t know The Thinker was originally called The Poet. I always learn something when I come here.

      Also: I love the quote about our society being proud of machines that think, but distrustful of people who try to. Very well said.

      Liked by 1 person

      • mistermuse 7:14 am on March 15, 2019 Permalink | Reply

        Thanks for the comment, SS — I thought I had replied before, but apparently I forgot. Apparently I need a machine that thinks for me, or at least remembers for me! ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

    • kutukamus 2:20 am on March 15, 2019 Permalink | Reply

      Now this ‘no-brainy’ is something to think over, really ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  • mistermuse 12:01 am on January 31, 2019 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , homelessness, , , regret, , turning points,   

    READ MY LIPS POEM 

    Here in the American Midwest, waking up toย sub-zero lows the past few mornings reminded me ofย a poemย I wrote one Januaryย more thanย two dozen frozen wintersย ago, titled WINTERDREAM….so I dug the poem out of cold storage, blew the snow (or was it dust?) off it, and re-read it for the first time in some time. As I did, it dawned on me that, although published before (both in paper journalsย and online), perhaps itย could stand one more exposure. Then, near poem’sย end, I re-came upon the word “lips”….and that settled it (reference the last twoย sentences of my last post, LIPS SERVICE). Here, then, one last time, is….

    WINTERDREAM

    Suppose a homeless man
    found a tattered hat,
    abandoned, like himself,
    to the elements….
    and in that tattered hat,
    tucked inside the band,
    a winning lottery ticket
    could transform his life;

    but first, he must see it –
    and then, seeing it,
    not toss it to the wind,
    as life had tossed him.
    Let us further suppose
    the deadline to claim
    its prize came at midnight
    of that very day.

    That night, in winter’s turn,
    the man had a dream
    that he could live his life
    starting all over again,
    knowing as much at birth
    as he knew this moment,
    so that all the choices
    and hidden chances
    of wasted turning points
    lay exhumed ahead….

    but the thought made him
    cringe: regret was a fire
    that gave pain without heat.
    He awoke in cold sweat
    to the taste of blown snow
    on the cracks of his lips,
    and pulled down the brim
    of yesterday’s fortune.
    What luck to have found
    a buffer against fate.

     

     

     
c
Compose new post
j
Next post/Next comment
k
Previous post/Previous comment
r
Reply
e
Edit
o
Show/Hide comments
t
Go to top
l
Go to login
h
Show/Hide help
shift + esc
Cancel