I'll Let You Know

Invite someone to join you
As you formalize your plans.
Expect to get an answer –
Gee, I wonder how that pans!

“I’ll let you know,” he tells you,
But that doesn’t help at all,
Negating what you’d hoped to be
The purpose of your call.

What does that mean? Or better yet,
Explain exactly - when?
I’m sitting here and waiting
But don’t want to call again.

It’s really so annoying
When your plans are put on hold
‘Cause someone else has grabbed the reins
You thought that you controlled.

“I’ll let you know” is one response
I never should allow.
The next time someone says it,
I’ll say – “Let me know right now!”

Adios, Carlos!

A candidate for mayor
Has been sexting with a stranger.
In cyberspace, his nom de plume
Is, get this, Carlos Danger!

He once got caught and lost his job
And promised to reform,
But lying, to a politician,
Seems to be the norm.

So Weiner (yes, that is his name!)
Continues to campaign,
Although from sending penis-pictures,
He cannot abstain.

Though every single candidate
Must have his share of flaws,
I think New Yorkers need a mayor
Who won’t drop his drawers!

Blood

Blood inside our bodies flows
To keep our tickers ticking.
We never think about it ‘til
A problem’s up and kicking.

A tiny sample might reveal
Deficiencies or glitches,
For blood cells can’t keep secrets –
They’re like adolescent snitches.

The needle hits a vein and then
The truth comes pouring out
To let the doctor know
What all the fuss was all about.

Amazingly, one little vial
Can give a needed clue,
Which was within us all along,
But hidden from our view.

Holding On

The past is over. Let it go
And welcome in tomorrow.
Our days on earth are measured out
And more we cannot borrow.

Such sage advice, for sure, and yet
Instruction I can’t follow.
The letting go part is, to me,
A pill I cannot swallow.

And so I cling to memories
And objects from the past,
In disbelief that all those years
Have disappeared so fast.

I realize that by holding on,
I’m mired in the muck.
It once felt comfortable in there,
But now I’ve gotten stuck.

It’s time to shed my former self,
Embrace the older new;
I wouldn’t bet on my success –
It’s hard as hell to do.

Lost in the Cloud

Had some pictures on my iPhone,
But they’ve somehow disappeared.
Since I’m not so techno-savvy,
This was something that I’d feared.

‘Course I didn’t have a back-up.
Could have sent them to my mail;
But I let procrastination
And some laziness prevail.

I bemoaned their disappearance,
Thinking them forever lost
And, most likely, in my furor,
There were several curses tossed.

So a friend who overheard, said,
“All this moaning’s not allowed;
For your photos haven’t vanished –
You can find them in the Cloud!”

What this means is quite beyond me;
Sounds like Esalen or Zen.
I rejected those some years ago
And would do so again.

But though I don’t understand it,
I believe the Cloud is real;
And if it returns my pictures,
Oh, how happy I will feel!

So tomorrow I’ll hit Google
And I’ll find the code to crack
That I need to fly up to that Cloud
And get my pictures back!

What A Drag It Is...

Today’s Mick Jagger’s birthday
And it must be quite a drag,
For seven-zero are the years
That he’s got in the bag.

When “Mother’s Little Helper”
Was released and made the charts,
A younger Mick, at twenty-three,
Was breaking younger hearts.

That famous lyric from the song,
While catchy and harmonic,
When issued from his youthful lips
I’m sure seemed quite ironic.

But now that many years have passed
And Mick’s an older dude,
The irony’s no longer there,
Despite his attitude.

So rock on, Mick, and celebrate
Because, if truth be told,
At seventy, you must agree,
It’s no fun getting old!

Yogurt

I used to eat yogurt
When trying to diet.
Instead of a muffin,
I thought I would try it.

Some flavors were tasty
But none’d really thrill me.
Compared to my muffin,
It never did fill me.

Demand for it faded
And I, too, surrendered;
For, low-fat or no-fat,
My body’d not slendered.

But now, decades later,
Seems yogurt is cool
And anyone knocking it’s
Branded a fool.

It still wouldn’t fill me
If served as a meal
And as for a snack,
It holds little appeal.

So I’ll stand outside
As the yogurtites eat
And stick to my ice cream
If I need a treat.