Thursday, July 31, 2014

Anesthetic Anesthesia


[This is for Heather]

Anesthetic Anesthesia

A friend of mine
Cannot spell
Anesthetic.
She's been confused
By a spell
Of amnesia.

It's really quite
Pathetic!

I, sad to say,
Cannot spell
Anesthesia.
When someone asked
Where does that
Leave ya?

I said
Probably
Asleep!


[Copyright © 2014 and 2006 by Lowell A. Anderson]

Monday, April 28, 2014

The Candidate - Flashback to 2012



I was not born with 
A silver spoon
He said
Eyes glinting
As a creeping 
Smile slid
Across his political
Face.

We lived in a 
Basement apartment
Like regular folks
She said
Stepping out of a
60s sitcom
All fluffy and 
Full of lace
As is right
For a woman 
Who knows
Her place.

They said
We had to live
On returns from
Investments
It was hard
We even got
Regular haircuts
And ate at McDonalds'
Unless daddy and mommy
Took us out
Or gave us money
For the rent.

So, we know all about
You poor folks
Struggling to
Pay the bills
And feed the kids
With college ahead
We suggest you
Get money from 
Your folks and
Live in a tent.

And when you 
Get old
Become a Mormon
Mormons take care
Of one another
By piling up money
And stowing it
Away for a 
Rainy day
And Mormons 
Don't need 
No government.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

The Teacher


Some years ago, Lois Anne taught GED classes, which were established to help adults who had for one reason or another dropped out of school, earn their high school diplomas.  Lois Anne was the finest teacher I have ever met.  The following poem was written in appreciation of her love for learning and her extraordinary ability to connect with the lives of her students.


The Teacher

Sometimes I see you,
A vision in the corner
Of my eye -
Reaching out to touch
The minds of those
Stretching, seeking to
Learn to understand
Lessons long passed by...
Your grace apparent, the
Joy you give,
The pleasure pure as
Dawning light arrives;
A burst of insight
Birthing hope
Where hope, bereft, had died.

Pride quite often
Overcomes the sensibilities
Of my mind.
A rose in bloom,
Your tenderness
Lends fragrance to
Suspend fear.
So, free to be
They come to you
Faith seeking to be fed;
A dream begun
They turn in trust
Needing to be led
By gentle smile
Soft-spoken word.
Your wisdom is the spark
That leads them on
To dream again.
Your life has left its mark.




Tuesday, March 19, 2013


The Easter Bunny's
Back in town
None the worse for wear
Until the kids
Climb up on him
And get into his hair
The days drag on
'Til tiredly he
Slumps down in his chair.

Copyright © 2013 by Lowell A. Anderson.  All rights reserved.
This photo & picture was cross-posted to Ocala (Florida) Photos.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Running with a phone


It was a strange
Phenomenon
She turned her
Cell phone on
And chatted with
Her Mom
While running down
Fifth Avenue
in the 
New York City
Marathon.


© Copyright 2006 and 2013 by Lowell A. Anderson
All rights reserved.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Dreams can come true


A photograph
Is like a dream
 What we deem
Should come true
If what we've seen
In the eye
Of our mind
Is brought to fruition
By brushes on canvas
By words upon paper
By cameras poised
digitized
To create and record
 What we wrestle
And wring
From the heart
Of our heart
To bring it to life.

Copyright © 2012 by Lowell A. Anderson
All rights reserved
The owner of this photograph is unknown.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

The Shape of Things to Come



Ev'rybody's talking 'bout
A problem in our land
It's big and getting bigger
It's almost out of hand!

They say I'm eating way too much
Junk food, snacks and sweets
My heart is working overtime
My system overheats!

The problem is I'm spreading out
It's called obesity
I shouldn't be all that surprised
When all I do is eat!

So, I'm going on a diet now
I'm down to eating crumbs
'Cause looking in the mirror I saw
The shape of things to come!


Poem copyright © 2006 and 2012 by Lowell A. Anderson (aka Ansohn)
Image copyright © 2006 and 2012 by Lowell A. Anderson and its licensors.
All rights reserved.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

The Mystery


There are times
When it would seem
A mystery hovers in the void
To make its presence known
In ways both banal
And profound
 Before my eyes of stone.
I have found it 
Quite impossible
To believe
In magic or in mystery
Or in the grand delusion
Of gods up in the sky
Their nosy noses poking
Knife-like, carving up the lives
Of the people of the earth --
The sons and daughters of
A spartan evolution
A momentary birthing
Which all too soon
Collapses into mystery itself --
The uncomprehending
And uncaring, often cruel
Universe.

© 2012 by Lowell A. Anderson.  All Rights Reserved.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Growing Old


Growing old
Does not
Necessarily
Make you
A sage or
Wise.
Growing old
Merely means
You somehow
 Managed
To stay
Alive!


Copyright © 2006 and 2012 by Lowell A. Anderson
All Rights Reserved.
Image copyright © 2006 and 2012 by Lowell A. Anderson and its licensors.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Don't Give a Damn About the Dust!


It's funny how we'd worry 'bout
Some things when we were young.
We cooked and cleaned and washed the clothes,
Our work was never done!

And God forbid if company
Should suddenly arrive.
'Cause if the house was in a mess
We thought that we would die!

We worked all day at what we did
Then fell asleep in bed;
To toss and turn and worry 'bout
All the work ahead.

Now suddenly we've gotten old;
Decided to retire.
We figured these were years of gold
What more can we desire?

We've had enough of working hard
Of slaving every day.
We're gonna take it easy now
So this is what we say:

If the house ain't clean enough
We hope that you'll adjust!
'Cause you should know we just don't care,
Don't give a damn about the dust!


© 2006 and 2011 by Ansohn and Lowell A. Anderson
Image copyright © 2011 by Lowell A. Anderson and its licensors.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Penny for a poem


I'd write a poem
For a penny
But I haven't
Written many
That cheaply
Before.

Still, a penny
Is a penny
Said the man
Sitting next to me
With eyes
Upon the floor.

So I wrote a bunch
Of poems
For people
Passing by
And some gave
Me a dime.

By noon I'd
Made five dollars
And maybe
A bit more
I felt rather
Like a whore.

I gave the money
To the man with
Eyes upon 
The floor.
It was quickly spent
At the liquor store.

© 2011 by Jacob Anson.  All Rights Reserved.
Photograph courtesy of Dan Jay at Thousand Word Photography

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Photosynthesis


Spring connives
With Mother Nature
To drape the land
In forest green
Gracing hills
With trees
So lean
And full
Standing tall
As Shady sentries
Guarding earth
Photosynthesizing
Our rebirth.

© 2011 by Jacob Anson.  All Rights Reserved
Photo courtesy of Brattcat

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Hand in Hand


the days like the wind
go rushing by
a blur of feelings
sensitivities
aging proceeds 
the end is in sight
we know not whether
to laugh or cry.

often i think of
how far we have come
as together we
walked hand in hand
through tangles of troubles
love won the day
for that love I'd do
it all over again.

how can a heart
be full, you say
how can a heart
burst with joy
only when love's
unconditional
as your love - sweeping
fear and pain away.

so Happy Birthday to
my very best friend
lover and wife and
my champion
if you see a tear
'tis a sign of joy
as in love we walk on - 
hand in hand.


This poem is for the love of my life, Lois Anne.  
© 2011 by Jacob Anson.  All rights reserved.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Love in Tuscany


[Photo of Tuscany courtesy of Bonjour Luxembourg]

This poem is for Cezar and Leia


Love in Tuscany


There was a young couple
From Luxembourg
Who decided to vacation
In Tuscany.
They put on their clothes
Including their pants - for
This was the home
Of the Renaissance (Italian)!


They took bunches 
of cameras
Guidebooks and
Money
And set off to check out
Old cities and shrines
Both happy as larks
The man and his "honey."


They'll never forget
This time together
Dinners and wine and
Delicious weather.
And when they grow old
Sit sipping their tea
They'll speak of their love
And of Tuscany.








Saturday, April 16, 2011

The Gospel of the Easter Bunny

Back by popular demand, is the Gospel of the Easter Bunny. This poem, happily, is becoming an annual exercise in piety.


The Book of Heaven's Hare

It is a hare-raising tale.
Sorta sad, sorta funny.
For once upon a time
There appeared a special bunny:
Who brought the people joy
And taught them to have fun;
Yet even as they laughed and danced
His life became undone.

An archaeological dig
In lower Percydocyair
Unveiled the previously unknown
Book of Heaven's Hare.
Significantly the book was found
On one foggy Easter morn;
On the very day they say
That Heaven's Hare was born.

In deciphering this Gospel text
Scholars have made clear,
Heaven's Hare was neither sex
That's why he was so dear.
Women loved him, so did men
And children loved him too.
Just watching him hop around
Made them feel like new.

Every other week or so
He'd gather everyone around.
And he would teach that heaven
Was a happy hopping ground.
And everyone could go there
If they would just forget
Their lust for eating animals
And started eating carrots.

These lessons were so well received
They got to be a habit.
And all the people came to call
The hare their Ravi Rabbit.
He spoke of the importance
Of tending to the gardens;
To see that all the vegetables
Were gloriously resplendent.

But then one day some hunters
Carrying great big guns
Told Heaven's Hare he'd better go
Back to where it was he came from.
But Ravi Rabbit stood his ground
He wasn't even scared.
He told them throw your weapons down
For I am Heaven's Hare!

They didn't throw their weapons down
They drew a bead on him.
He took off hopping out of town
Things were getting pretty grim.
They pulled their triggers all at once
The air exploded sound.
And when the smoke had disappeared
The hare was not around!

All the people ran to see
If he was dead and gone.
The children sobbed tearily
And broke out in a song:
Oh Heaven's Hare, Oh Heaven's Hare
We love you O dear heart.
We'll tend your garden faithfully
Til this life we depart.

Suddenly a voice, a cry.
"I see, I see the Hare.
"He flew away into the sky;
"There he is, there!"
But no one else could see the bunny.
Heaven's Hare was gone.
Something though was very funny,
Or very, very wrong.

The children saw them first
And shouted out for joy.
Strewn along the bunny's path
Were brightly-colored toys.
Then a girl name Mary
With long and strong, good legs,
Ran into a meadow full
Of brightly-colored eggs!

"Ravi Hare! Ravi Hare!"
All began to chant.
For they believed in Heaven's Hare
And they were adamant.
Then another miracle occurred;
The eggs had multiplied.
And everyone realized Heaven's Hare
Had never, really died!

Thank goodness they discovered
This Easter Bunny gospel.
'Cause lots of folks alive today
Have become infidels.
They long ago gave up belief
In an egg-laying Heaven's Hare.
And it is such a great relief
To have the truth laid bare.

So Heaven's Hare still lives.
His Easter eggs abound.
And every single brand-new spring
You'll find them all around.
Read the story once again
Of happy Heaven's Hare.
The lives of those who do believe
Is eggscelent, I swear!


Copyright 2006 & 2008 by Jacob Anson.
Image copyright 2006 & 2008 by Jacob Anson and its licensors. All Rights Reserved.