If the room
is the tomb
then the elephant
is irrelevant.
From my heart was shown
how very much I loved her—
could she not have known?
I have found my voice.
I do not rejoice—I fear
I have lost your ear.
Haiku remind me
of tasty little morsels—
popcorn poetry.
Joe Tessitore is a retired New York City resident and poet.
Many thanks, Cynthia!
I would like to assure you all that i am in relatively fine fettle and not, as of yet, lubbered…
Peter, your faith comes shining through in these precious gems. They are reasoned and inspiring.
Excellent comedy, indeed -- especially the thermometer, with its hilarious rhymes, and the irony of the Job Interview.
Russel, in addition to being a good poet, you are clearly a wonderful people-lover. What a great project you have…
We fight this cold, uncivil war.
Whatever for? Whatever for?
An elephant has indeed entered the room since I submitted these, and to talk about anything else but impeachment seems to me to be truly foolish.
I wonder if any of you are as angry and as heartbroken about it as I am, and if any of you believe that there’s light at the end of this tunnel we now find ourselves in?
Joe,
This is the light-hearted (I hope not entirely foolish) response to your post that popped into my head before reading your own very sober comment.
Regarding “Irrelevant”: true indeed. But —
If the setting
Were a wedding,
The pachyderm
Might make you squirm.
Nothing wrong with a good laugh!
The elephant calls out:
Here I am! I matter!
As he goes balls out
In eloquent chatter.
David, do you mean “bawls” out?
Interesting both ways – good that you asked!
“Going balls out” is a slang term with much the same meaning as “going all out” or “to the fullest extent.” I was referring to the sound an elephant makes.
Example: The jockey went balls out going down the home stretch. He gave it everything he had.
Joe, you owe a debt to Ogden Nash. He wrote a bit of light verse in which he rhymed “elephant” with “irrelevant.” If I’m not mistaken, in that same poem he rhymed “rhinoceros” with “preposterous.””
I wish I would’ve thought of that last one.
I once thought I came up with “Can butter fly?” and a fourteen-year-old told me “Not so much.”