“What is this thing called love”
Title borrowed from Cole Porter
Some love a winter’s walk
Too many others love to talk
Most of us love a classic movie
Love to do things considered groovy
We love our spouse and love our mothers
We love our sisters and of course our brothers
Love the songs Sinatra sings
We seem to love all manner of things
Some love to smoke and love to drink
Love to receive a flirtatious wink
In our love-smitten society
Emotional love has much variety
So I’ve come to my loving conclusion
The meaning of love is pure confusion
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Past-Present-Future
They spend no time together
Yet they're relatively linked
These three birds of a feather
Who march through time in sync
Present is right now
Past is just before it
Future rightly vows
Nothing will detour it
The past flies by too fast
It's movement so incessant
And with a final gasp
Bestows on us the present
The past is understood
When at present we look back
Most memories are good
But some do sadly lack
[...] Read more
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Peace On Earth, Good Will Toward Men
Peace on earth, good will toward men
Now, isn't that a mouthful
Peace on earth, good will toward men?
Unfortunately that's doubtful
Good will towards men?
With hatred so widespread
Good will towards men
Is much too casually said
Peace on earth, ideally human
An ideal worth the effort for
Peace on earth for our children's children
So they won't be fraught with future wars
To reach that goal we all must strive
When all seems lost, just strive again
To keep our future hopes alive
For peace on earth, good will toward men
poem by Stanley Cooper
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The Year Of The Rat
A Chinese friend informed me that
This is the astrological year of the rat
Though an animal lover I’ve always been
A year full of rats will cause me chagrin
A pup or a kitten would be more to my taste
Their barks and their mews I’d more easily face
With our two legged rats we seem to prefer
We’ve vermin enough, I think you’ll concur
If we skip over this rat laden calendar year
I don’t believe it would cause too many a tear
But tearful or not, I think we should heed it
That a year full of rats is really not needed
poem by Stanley Cooper
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TV Addiction
I recall when books were read
Television's now watched instead
Down the tube our culture's heading
Brain paralysis is what it's spreading
We're fed commercials on demand
In our great star spangled land
'Oh-oh say can you see'
Something good on TV?
If we sit and stare at those TV soaps
We can kiss goodbye to parental hopes
Children drown in this dumbing abyss
All kids deserve much more than this
Hours of staring at TV screens
Can blow our brains to smithereens
Why not read some poems and fiction
And lay to rest this tube addiction
poem by Stanley Cooper
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The End Of The Track
The train will stop at the end of the track
When the journey's over, there's no turning back
The rear view mirror reflecting the past
Of memories precious that hopefully last
The 'All Aboard' shout warns at the start
That our engine of life is about to depart
We steam through life's gorge, day after day
Never dreaming at all, it would be a short stay
Perhaps we'll be wiser, when we've reached this location
When our ride's nearly over, when we're in our last station
The train will stop at the end of the track
When the journey's over, there's no turning back
poem by Stanley Cooper
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I Can Only Write Like Me
Poet Poe, though 'Raven' mad
His work could all excite
Forever, I'd be mighty glad
If I could Poe-like write
I'd love to write like Shakespeare
With nothing 'much ado'
But, Bard-William, have no fear
I could never write like you
Cole Porter, clever word-king
Your songs are all the rage
My words, though to my liking
Your reign I can't up-stage
The opera Boris Godunov
Has great linguistic string
My lyrics aren't good enough
To have written such a thing
[...] Read more
poem by Stanley Cooper
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A Mirror’s Just Clutter
When I looked at my mirror, what I did see
Was a wrinkled aged reflection of little old me
There’s one thing I’m sure of, there’s one thing I know
There’s no doubt about it, that mirror must go
A mirror’s just clutter, not needed at all
When it refuses to show me as handsome and tall
The appearance of wrinkles is very unkind
Particularly since they’re surely not mine
How deceitful that mirror when it belies
When all of reality it completely denies
There’s one thing I’m sure of, there’s one think I know
There’s no doubt about it, that mirror must go
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Choco-holic
I don’t have a drink affliction
Never been cursed with a smoke addiction
But must confess to one worse by far
I can’t resist a chocolate bar
When as a lad, my mother said
“You’ll be rewarded if you eat your bread”
So I ate my bread, and the reward I got
Was a delicious piece of choc-o-lot
So Freud was right, my mom’s to blame
For the choc-o-hol-ic I became
She’s the reason here I think
Why I’d die for a chocolate drink
Perhaps I sound too vitriolic
To label myself as choc-o-hol-ic
But if that’s my breach, I must admit-it
To enable me to one day quit-it
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Studding
It is very much astounding
And somewhat more confounding
What happens when a horse no longer races
If the horse is just a mudder
He can still become a studder
To enjoy his future life that he now faces
Horses done with racing
Find mares so all embracing
Fraternizing with their sexy concubines
When retirement they’re facing
They go female hors-ey chasing
To better all their pony hors-ey blood lines
It surely is a shame
That a man can’t do the same
As thoroughbred, his life would be a blast
He’d have his fill of dames
Enjoying sexist games
And forget his less sexy muted past
poem by Stanley Cooper
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