Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Holiday Parking

In cities, you can often tell
A holiday’s at hand,
Although it might be one
That you don’t really understand.

You don’t find out by hearing
Someone pass a stray remark;
The information’s gleaned by noting
Where you get to park.

On holidays (no matter which)
The rules are all suspended,
So those who do observe will not
Be angry or offended.

Your car, which usually must move
So streets can then be swept,
Can stay exactly where it is,
Which all must then accept.

No tickets issued by a cop,
No tow truck come to move it;
The owner needn’t worry –
There’s no one to disapprove it.

A city welcomes everyone
Of every faith and creed,
For holidays from parking rules
Are what we surely need!

Monday, April 21, 2014

Hacked

One by one, my friends' accounts
Have all been getting hacked.
Likely there will come a time
I, too, will be attacked.

Where are all the rocks from which
These evil hackers crawled
To seek some suckers unaware
That they were being trawled?

With all this new technology
There's room for lots more scams
And unsuspecting souls get caught
In complicated jams.

I miss the good old days when crime
Was much more in your face
Than nowadays when scammers strike
But they don't leave a trace.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

At the Dog House

Visiting friends with some visiting dogs
As well as the two of their own,
Was to be the receiver of licks gone amok,
The slobbiest ones I have known.

For canines get cozy the minute they sense
That you'll be both receptive and kind
And then they unleash their affection as if
You're the best friend that they'll ever find.

So it was an evening of nuzzles and drool
And tail thumps and smooches galore,
More doggie love given in one single night
Than I've ever been given before.

When we said our goodnights, with the dogs at the door,
We were not the attraction we'd been;
For to them, we had passed like a ship in the night,
Though their slobber was still on my skin.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Demons Dance

Insomnia, methinks, doth stink;
It carts one quickly to the brink
Then yanks those taunting forty winks
And turns them into toss and blinks.

The hell with all those leaping sheep!
My thoughts on them would earn a bleep.
Instead I stare, in darkness deep,
As minutes into hours creep.

The mind, it fills as demons dance
So slumber doesn’t stand a chance,
But as the daylight does advance
They’re gone, without a backward glance.

And then at last, I get to drowse.
The lines smooth out between my brows;
But obligations don’t allow
The time to catch up anyhow.

Another tired day will dawn,
My pillow something I could pawn.
I’ll greet the morning, pale and drawn
And stifle yet another yawn.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Honorable Mention

It is never one’s intention
Earning “honorable mention”
When you’re entered in a contest or a race.
Yes, you’ve gotten some attention
So that listing, by extension,
Means approval that you really should embrace.

Still, it’s not exactly winning
And it will not leave you grinning
For it feels more like a pat upon the head,
‘Cause you know at the beginning
All your hopes were proudly pinning
On that very first or second place instead.

Since most judgment is subjective
You must know that one’s perspective
May not match or be divergent from your own,
So it’s best to be reflective
Which is rather more effective
Than reacting like you’ve just been tossed a bone.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Manischewitz

Once a year, for one week straight,
A beer I will decline.
Instead, I will indulge in
Manischewitz kosher wine.

If you have never tried it,
Well, your life is not complete,
But you’d sure surprise your taste buds
‘Cause it’s sickeningly sweet.

Since it’s part of my tradition,
It’s a habit I can’t break
And from childhood sips to current times,
I’ve stuck with Concord Grape.

Though I’m not at all religious,
I’m nostalgic for the past
And at Seders* long ago,
The Manischewitz die was cast.

Certain connoisseurs of culture
Call me out and say, “Enough!
Now it’s time to climb the ladder
And reject that sweetened stuff.”

But a creature (me!) of habit
Thinks that Manischewitz wine,
Like the macaroons and matzoh,
Fits the holiday just fine.

*Passover meal

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Playing the New Card

Mah Jongg is a game that’s strange
‘Cause every year the cards will change,
So you may try to play a hand
That once was there at your command
But now that pattern isn’t there,
Which feels a little bit unfair.

Until you learn the latest card,
The challenges are really hard,
For you might try to reconcile
The hand you’re dealt with what’s on file
Within your brain from last year’s sets
And that’s as tricky as it gets.

Each formula appears askew.
Repeating old ones is taboo;
And though it is a tad confusing,
There’s no upside to refusing.
Everyone must be on board;
Acceptance is its own reward.

The more you play, the more you’ll learn
And soon enough, when it’s your turn,
You’ll realize you’ve absorbed the new,
Like all the Mah Jongg players do;
But once you’re comfy, only then –
They’ll go and change the card again!