Monday, December 22, 2014

Two Poems by Erren Geraud Kelly

The Death of Saturday Morning Cartoons

"For the first time in 50 years, there was no Saturday morning cartoons of any kind on any of the major networks. . ."
                                            -- from a yahoo article

No more mystery machine or mighty mouse
No more while e. coyote chasing the road runner
on Saturday Mornings
Though I never took him seriously
If the coyote always had the money to
Go to acme to buy materials to make
The trap and travel to chase the road runner
He couldn't saved himself the trouble
And bought himself a pizza
Johnny quest always looked mod
In a turtleneck sweater
daphne was the eye-candy, but
velma was the prototype for the
Feminist, the opinionated woman
Though she was a plain jane
But she had tig o bitties
velma was smart when being smart
Wasn't cool for girls

Saturday mornings, I ate big bowls of
Cereal, sometimes at mom's house
Sometimes, at dads
I thought my dad was smarter than
The average dad

Bugs bunny made being an anti-authority
Figure cool; he taught me all about life
With a queen's accent
The schoolhouse rocked when blossom dearie
The jazz diva, with the little girl voice
Explained how adjectives were used
In a sentence
Some Saturday morning, mom cooked breakfast
As a lowly bill explained his sisphyean quest
To become law; and succeeded against all odds

Godzilla was a tortured soul
But he always came out victorious

The villian would've gotten away with it, too
If it hadn't been for those meddling kids
And that dog
But shaggy was my favorite
Casey Kasem was his voice
When he wasn't counting down
Top 40 hits on pop radio
Or making long distance dedications

go go gadget, and a watch could
stop a bomb from smashing into earth
just a few weeks ago, apple introduced a watch
inspector gadget would love

c-bear was the teddy bear with soul
but I always preferred peanuts,
snoopy was the rock star beagle
but Charlie brown was my spiritual twin

I've always had a soft spot for underdogs. . .


When she moves, she lets the music
Tell her where to go
She's wearing a thrift store shroud
And playing with a dog
She's embarrassed about walking
Around in public in pajamas,

She moves like a feather
Around the coffeehouse
She's a tango dancer
And she always dances with
A different partner
She learns much about
People that way
I mistake her blue paisley shawl
For a countess'
She tells me about the mountains
In Canada
I tell her I'm headed that way

There are no accidents in life

I look at her as she's talking
She makes her own daylight
She deserves only good things
Real pearl earrings
Not the fake ones she's wearing
She deserves people who will
Make her life golden
I listen to her talk
As she covers her breasts
With her elegant shroud
Her breasts I would touch
As we danced
Everything about her
Is to be treasured

Erren Geraud Kelly's work has been featured in over 150 publications in print and online.  Kelly is the author of the chapbook "disturbing the peace," from night ballet press.  Kelly received his B.A. in English Creative Writing from Louisiana in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  Kelly lives in Portland, Oregon.

No comments:

Post a Comment