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.


Copyright © 2015 by Jacob Avram/Lowell A. Anderson.  All rights reserved.




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.

Friday, April 15, 2011

More Memories Than My Heart Can Hold


[The title of this poem and the above photo comes from and is used with the permission of Rose at Pics and Pieces.  Thank you so much, Rose!  Please check out her blog here.]

More Memories Than My Heart Can Hold

They cleanse me like the falling rain
Awash with joy, sadness, pain
Softly touch my heart again
Rehearsing what my life has been.

I read the letters, faded, old
Put away so long ago
Saved for reasons I don't know
But I was young and brave and bold...

Knowing not of future days
When ancient script
Would rescue to now resurrect
Dreams and friends and memories.

I touch them and the aged paper
Crinkles, crackles, 'tis a vapor
As I gently smooth the words
Written when I'd live forever.

Or so I thought when but a youth
Mistakenly, but still uncouth
And now, older and much wiser, too
I need those memories of you.

And other friends and of the times
Both good and bad and in between
We knew it all except the fact
That things aren't always as they seem.

And thus, I hold them in my hands
Gently, as to not disturb
The spirit of the distant scenes
The memories and what they mean.

It's hard to go there once again
To life the way it was back then
I've found that like a valued coin
Memories are tough to spend.

As I sit here on the floor
I'm feeling glad and sad and old
I touch the letters for there I find
More memories than my heart can hold.


Copyright © 2011 by Jacob Anson.  All Rights Reserved.



Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Of the Sun and Melting Snow (The Sun Was Mine)


[Photo courtesy of Brattleboro photo blog]

The funky shapes of
Melting snow
Depend upon the
Ebb and flow
And how residual
Water goes.
And, of course,
Upon the sun
The warmth of which
Was such great fun
Way back in 
Prehistoric times
When I was born
And I could claim
The sun as mine!


Copyright © 2011 by Jacob Anson.  All Rights Reserved.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Friday, January 7, 2011

Snowstorms and Truth



  The world passes white
Before my eyes.
Sight is burdened by
Snowy lies.

Still, I trudge on
Through blinding flakes.
Seeking the truth
Living mistakes.

In time it will clear
The snow will be gone.
I'll see for myself
The right and the wrong.

That is my hope.
That is my prayer.
When I come to the end
I'll find truth there.


© 2011 by Jacob Anson.  All Rights Reserved.


Our special thanks to Olivier Perrin of Evry, Essone, France, for his gracious permission to use the above photo.  Please check out Monsieur Perrin's beautiful photo blog here.