Adamant Eve

by Rick Young | Dec 17, 2015 | Poem

Eve was teed off at her guy.
He said he wanted apple pie.
She was extremely discontented.
Fire wasn’t yet invented.
Adam said they could adjust,
maybe use some leaves for crust.
Eve said no way she would bake.
"Why can’t we just eat some snake?"

Nightingales

by Rick Young | Dec 16, 2015 | Poem

Never curse a nurse.
There could be nothing worse.
No matter how you feel,
they’re there to help you heal.
They’ll treat you with compassion
although you’re out of fashion.
They deal with blood and feces.
They are one special species.
List nurses high amongst your loves.
They’re living saints in rubber gloves.

(for the nurses who helped me
through the last eight weeks)

Timeclock

by Rick Young | Sep 14, 2015 | Poem

Father Time, it’s no crime
to be growing older.
We’re all weathering away,
tethered to life’s boulder.
As we age, comes a stage
where that rock rolls faster.
Everyone’s a slave to time.
No one is its master.
Skin gets cracked, body bowed,
footsteps come much slower.
Everything now seems a load.
Voices all get lower.
Soon the clock will wave its hand,
as if in goodbye.
Hourglass is out of sand.
Comes the time to die.

Hue Downs

by Rick Young | Sep 10, 2015 | Poem

There is no common use
for the hue chartreuse.
And even more obtuse:
what does one do with puce?

Adopt A Vulture

by Rick Young | Sep 9, 2015 | Poem

Some seek fame and some seek culture.
I want to adopt a vulture.
Some need structure in their day.
I incline toward birds of prey.
Some like boys and some like girls.
I like birds who eat dead squirrels.
Some like cold and some like heat.
I like wingspans of eight feet.
Some like dancing cheek-to-cheek.
I like bald heads with a beak.
In my vulture paradise,
I would scatter lunch, dead mice.
I don’t want to be its captor,
more its pal: me and my raptor.