Tag Archives: Nostalgia

I Miss The 90’s

I remember when beer was manly

And women played women’s sports

And the internet had telephone cords

And kids went outside to build forts…

When a penny bought a tootsie roll

And a handshake was a deal

But nowhere in my memory

Were the politicians real.

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Taaaake… Me To The Ri. Vuh… (Drop me in the wa. Tuh…) But An Octave Lower

The guys who, in the ‘90s,

Made the singing Big Mouth Bass

Will be long renowned by history

For redefining “urban class.”

Alas, they could have changed music

Had they thought ahead so far

As to make an instrument

They called the “bass guitar.”

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Your Nostalgia Is Complete

I read someone’s list

Of their favorite childhood movies…

The Lion King, Bambi… those types.

If you are its creator

I want to remind you

Of the Microsoft screensaver pipes.

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Promises

One hundred years ago today

A boy and girl were scared

Together in the chapel,

Neither one of them prepared

To spend a life exclusively

In one another’s heart,

But shared a kiss and promise there

‘Til death tore them apart.

Five years from that fateful day

A child joined the two

And once again they stood in fear

Without a hope or clue,

Uncertain how to raise a child

And keep him safe from pain,

But wrapped him in a blanket

And they walked him through the rain.

When fifteen years expired

Since the day they said “I do,”

They met a world of poverty

And skies were seldom blue,

And sometimes they’d go weeks on end

And not a dollar see,

But when they ate, they said their prayers

They ate as family.

Twenty years and thirty went

And forty passed away

And what was young was wrinkled up

And what was brown turned gray.

The easy things got harder

And the hard things all stayed tough,

But a couple has each other

And for them that was enough.

A hundred years ago today

Two words were said by two

And love that was uncertain then

We now can see was true.

There’s always rain, there’s always fear,

There’s always poverty,

And there will always be two more

To find serenity.

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Breaking Up, 2019 Style

Like a printed photo album,

A collection of CDs,

The World Book Encyclopedia

Or watching things live on TV,

Like “Internet Explorer”

Or a brick-and-mortar store

Or carrying dimes to make a phone call

I don’t need you anymore.

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And Then There Were Just 14 Balls

I asked a higher being,

The all-knowing and all seeing

If I should turn my life around

Or stay the same, all safe and sound.

I saw a vision in the blue

And what it said had to be true.

I summoned my courage and focused my zen.

It said “Reply hazy. Try again.”

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And It Was Glorious!

You’ve got Candy Crush,

Farmville, Minecraft,

Plants vs. Zombies,

And the TV show “Shaft.”

You’ve got Halo 1-6

And Super Smash Bros Brawl.

As a lad, all I had

Was Space Cadet Pinball.

  

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1/16 TSP of Nostalgia

I remember the days of yore

When if you made a call

You could not use the internet.

No you couldn’t. Not at all.
I remember the olden days

When a prune was a “dried plum,”

And when Superhero movies

Were as tacky as they’d come.
If you complain about the future,

These are the comforts you should seek.

Besides these three things, however,

Yeah… The future’s kinda bleak.

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The Year So Far

‘Twas a short and hectic year
That crawled by a month at a time.
I ended most days with sleep
And started all with a rhyme.

I was unemployed for a while
After graduation,
But somehow I survived
And avoid flagellation.

I discovered the forbidden joys
Of anime and manga,
Continued doing improv,
And never lined a conga.

Now I work with Aflac,
With my days spent on the road,
But when I go to sleep at night
My shoulders lose a load

Because when I pull the covers
Over my weary head
I’m an undercover agent
Whom no government wants dead.

‘Twas a five-and-a-half stanza year.
Thanks for laughing with me here.

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Orange is the Old Black

It’s hard to write a poem

About the color orange

Without the introduction

Of the convenient rhyme of “door hinge.”

 

But orange is not a color

So much as a happy time

When it shines with gold as a sunset

Over fields of orange and lime.

 

Orange is every childhood

When you bought the collared shirt

In a pumpkin shade with a purple sweater

As you rolled amidst the dirt.

 

But as you ran between the Autumn trees

With the citrus sun burning your feet

And your fashion clashing, you realized

Being a kid is pretty neat.

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