The Rhyme

The rhyme is deep within me;
It’s always been right there.
If someone can’t relate to it,
Too bad – I just don’t care.

Most poetry’s not rhyming,
Though once, it was the rage.
The modern poets scoff,
But rhyme still pulls me to the page.

I love its bouncy rhythms,
Adore its symmetry.
The playful patterns are a part
Of what appeals to me.

Some mystifying magic
Is programmed in my brain:
A prose thought gets converted
In a way I can’t explain.

Before I know what’s happening,
It’s almost like a dream,
The rhyming words are huddling
And conjuring a scheme.

I’m merely an observer,
A conduit of sorts;
The verses line up, waiting
Like opposing teams in sports.

I set them down on paper,
Then type them up real neat;
And after some finessing,
They feel final and complete.

Tomorrow there’ll be new thoughts.
I’ll be sure to make the time
To gather them and marvel as
They reemerge as rhyme.

Getting Around

I took a different train today
From what I often take.
I had an errand leading me –
It wasn’t a mistake.

I’d checked the map and learned the route;
It wasn’t hard to do.
In fact, it felt familiar,
Seemed like something I once knew.

So now I have another way
To travel ‘round the city.
Sticking to the same old path
Some folks would think a pity.

There still are subway lines to which
I am a total stranger.
What’s prevented me is much more
Circumstance than danger.

Perhaps one day, I’ll need to use
A new train on the map.
I’ll add it to my repertoire,
A feather in my cap.

The Time

While walking on East 88th Street,
Heading to the train,
I was absorbed in reverie
So I felt mild disdain

When someone asked me for the time.
I glanced around the street
And realized that the voice
Originated at my feet.

A homeless guy was still abed,
All bundled in a blanket
Upon a mattress, soiled and stained;
A website could not rank it.

He looked at me and I at him;
He scratched around his crotch.
10:30, I replied
After I’d glanced down at my watch.

While he remained quite prone
I just continued on my way.
I wondered if 10:30 was
The time to start his day.

Neighborhoods

Every city neighborhood
Is like a separate town.
Each one is a precious jewel
In New York’s regal crown.

Some are funky, young and hot;
Others more demure.
You can feel the difference
In a minute, I am sure.

East or west side, up or down –
The choices can amaze.
It shouldn’t really matter
Whether others pan or praise.

If you’re a native, you’re aware
Of residential love:
The neighborhood in which you live
Should fit you like a glove.

If someone wants to criticize
The place you’ve built your nest,
Let negatives slide off your back –
For you know what is best.

When you stroll through your turf,
You should feel calm, relaxed, and proud.
Put-downs based on where you live
Just shouldn’t be allowed.

I often wonder, though, how strangers
Moving to this city,
Figure out where to reside –
There should be a committee.

If such a forum did exist,
One person from each zip
Could represent the neighborhood,
Extolling all that’s hip.

But as it stands, a newcomer
Must find it out by trial.
A walk around will make it clear
In just a little while.

If asked, we natives certainly
Have much advice to give.
We’d all agree our neighborhood
Is where you oughta live.

Jack Bauer

I fell asleep
So I missed out
On “24”
But I’ve no doubt

That what I’d hoped
That I would see
Did not occur
On my TV

The show is almost
At its end
Yet still the rules
Will never bend

Before it goes
I hope that I’ll
Be privy to
Jack Bauer’s smile!

Worm

Today I saw a fat dead worm
On New York’s far east side.
I wondered how it landed there
And where it did reside.

It lay, unmoving, on the sidewalk,
Glistening from rain.
Wherever it was headed to,
It made the trip in vain.

There wasn’t too much soil in sight,
A bit ‘round planted trees;
That worm was surely inching there,
Proceeding by degrees.

It probably got so confused,
In Yiddish, that’s farmisht;
And soon, before it knew what hit,
That worm had gotten squished.

A lesson can be learned from this:
Although you think you’re strong,
You take a chance by venturing
Where you do not belong.

New Glasses

With new glasses, the aim
Is to locate a frame
That will be a good fit.
So, before you commit

You must try many pairs
As your mirror self stares.
Does the shape fit your face?
Is the color off-base?

Is the style much too bold?
Is it youthful or old?
Does it accent your nose?
Will it clash with your clothes?

Are they funky enough?
Do they make you look tough?
Is that green just too weird?
Will it jar, like I feared?

I’ll admit I am slow,
And quite picky, I know;
But you don’t want your face
Looking like a disgrace.

After trying a lot,
One pair just hit the spot.
I had help to decide,
But I’m quite satisfied.

With the time I did spend,
Patience won in the end.
Somehow there should be classes
On how to choose glasses.