Hold On Now...
by
Greg Pincus
I'm waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.
The hold music stops, and I'm anticipating...
Oh no! The recording of updates and news
Starts playing again, and I'm starting to snooze.
Then back to the music that's spooky and droning -
I swear the composer was aiming for moaning.
I just have five questions! It's like they don't care.
I'm thinking I might have to rise from my chair
And find them in person. It makes me a wreck.
Life sure is harder since Mom went high tech.
Oh, sure... this might be as much for a parent as child... or might've been written entirely while on hold with an unnamed company. I'm not saying anything, I tell ya! But whatever... it's here and now it's yours to decide about.
And hey, it's Poetry Friday! The fantabulous Irene Latham is hosting this week's roundup, so you should head on over and see all the poetry goodies in the blogosphere here on the last Friday of National Poetry Month.
Oh, and if you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Showing posts with label family poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family poem. Show all posts
Friday, April 27, 2018
Friday, May 04, 2012
A Note for My Grandma (Left in her Kitchen) - a food poem/a family poem
A Note for My Grandma (Left in her Kitchen)
by
Greg Pincus
Cookies are not safe near me:
Temptation is my foe.
I see a cookie? Eat, eat, eat!
I try to stop... but no.
My worry for poor cookies’ health
Is very real, and so...
Since cookies are not safe near me
That’s why I ate your dough.
This week's Poetry Friday roundup is at Elaine's Wild Rose Reader. Be sure to check it out.
And if you'd like to get all the poems here emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Greg Pincus
Cookies are not safe near me:
Temptation is my foe.
I see a cookie? Eat, eat, eat!
I try to stop... but no.
My worry for poor cookies’ health
Is very real, and so...
Since cookies are not safe near me
That’s why I ate your dough.
This week's Poetry Friday roundup is at Elaine's Wild Rose Reader. Be sure to check it out.
And if you'd like to get all the poems here emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Things to Say to Your Younger Sibling - a family poem, a sibling poem
Things to Say to Your Younger Sibling
by
Greg Pincus
Candy’s legal to steal.
Yes, zombies are real.
Dad said I’m in charge.
Your cookie’s too large.
Of course, I won’t tell.
You tripped? No. You fell.
Bird poop’s nutritious.
Mom’s meatloaf’s delicious.
Oops. My fist slipped.
Fell? I was tripped!
Oh, no! You’ve been cursed!
Looks safe. You go first.
Sooooooo sorry you lost.
My fingers were crossed.
This poem actually came from one of my prompts at March Poetry Madness... though you won't find the "prompting word" in it. Can you guess which one? Anyway, it never worked in well, though I quite liked the poem! Voting for many poems is ongoing at The Madness - right now including my own poem in epic poetic battle with a pantoum! Good stuff. I hope you'll check it all out.
If you'd like to get all the poems here at GottaBook - from 30 Poets/30 Days to guest poets, to whatever I cook up - emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Greg Pincus
Candy’s legal to steal.
Yes, zombies are real.
Dad said I’m in charge.
Your cookie’s too large.
Of course, I won’t tell.
You tripped? No. You fell.
Bird poop’s nutritious.
Mom’s meatloaf’s delicious.
Oops. My fist slipped.
Fell? I was tripped!
Oh, no! You’ve been cursed!
Looks safe. You go first.
Sooooooo sorry you lost.
My fingers were crossed.
This poem actually came from one of my prompts at March Poetry Madness... though you won't find the "prompting word" in it. Can you guess which one? Anyway, it never worked in well, though I quite liked the poem! Voting for many poems is ongoing at The Madness - right now including my own poem in epic poetic battle with a pantoum! Good stuff. I hope you'll check it all out.
If you'd like to get all the poems here at GottaBook - from 30 Poets/30 Days to guest poets, to whatever I cook up - emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Friday, March 23, 2012
Wake Up Call - a coffee poem
Wake Up Call
by
Greg Pincus
Earlier this morning
I was droopy, draggy, tired,
Then I drank my daddy’s coffee –
Now I’m wired, wired, wired.
“Do that again,” my father said
(I skittered, jittered, bounded),
“You’ll be like past tense coffee beans –
Grounded, grounded, grounded!”
The above was my poem from the round of 64 in Ed DeCaria's March Poetry Madness in which I had to write a poem using the word "wired." The Madness is still going on, and you can vote for the poems in the round of 16 right now. (My own match-up is against the fabulous Susan Taylor Brown, where sometime later today, you'll see us battle "impaled" vs. "truce" (and how many times have you been able to say that???).)
The Poetry Friday roundup is over at A Year of Reading (where co-host Mary Lee Hahn, still alive and kicking in the Madness, shares one of her fab poems). Why not check out all the poetry goodies today?
And if you'd like to get all the poems here at GottaBook - from 30 Poets/30 Days to guest poets, to whatever I cook up - emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Greg Pincus
Earlier this morning
I was droopy, draggy, tired,
Then I drank my daddy’s coffee –
Now I’m wired, wired, wired.
“Do that again,” my father said
(I skittered, jittered, bounded),
“You’ll be like past tense coffee beans –
Grounded, grounded, grounded!”
The above was my poem from the round of 64 in Ed DeCaria's March Poetry Madness in which I had to write a poem using the word "wired." The Madness is still going on, and you can vote for the poems in the round of 16 right now. (My own match-up is against the fabulous Susan Taylor Brown, where sometime later today, you'll see us battle "impaled" vs. "truce" (and how many times have you been able to say that???).)
The Poetry Friday roundup is over at A Year of Reading (where co-host Mary Lee Hahn, still alive and kicking in the Madness, shares one of her fab poems). Why not check out all the poetry goodies today?
And if you'd like to get all the poems here at GottaBook - from 30 Poets/30 Days to guest poets, to whatever I cook up - emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Wired - an ADHD poem
Wired
By
Greg Pincus
Mom says it’s how I’m wired:
I’m like a spinning top.
My teachers say I’m like the wind:
I never, ever stop.
My brother says I’m like a pest -
That’s why we often fight.
My grandma says I’m like the moon:
I’ll shine and shine all night.
My doctor says I’m like a kid
Who’s got ADHD.
My father says I’m just like him....
I think that I’m just me.
Thanks to all of you who voted (for me and my poem Wake Up Call or for anyone) in the first round of Ed DeCaria's March Poetry Madness. It's a really fun event... and I'm excited that I've moved on to the round of 32.
My next poem will be up Monday morning, but I can't tell you what it's about since I haven't yet received the word I have to use for it! In the meantime, there's great reading up at Ed's site, and other poems coming up for voting Sunday morning. I hope you'll check it out. Good times!
The above poem was the first one I wrote based on the word I got in the first round - wired. I eventually submitted a totally different poem, but I thought it would be fun to share this one, too.
Plus, I just announced the 2012 Edition of 30 Poets/30 Days. I hope you'll be following along, as the poetry in April is going to be fantastic.
If you'd to get all the poems here at GottaBook emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
By
Greg Pincus
Mom says it’s how I’m wired:
I’m like a spinning top.
My teachers say I’m like the wind:
I never, ever stop.
My brother says I’m like a pest -
That’s why we often fight.
My grandma says I’m like the moon:
I’ll shine and shine all night.
My doctor says I’m like a kid
Who’s got ADHD.
My father says I’m just like him....
I think that I’m just me.
Thanks to all of you who voted (for me and my poem Wake Up Call or for anyone) in the first round of Ed DeCaria's March Poetry Madness. It's a really fun event... and I'm excited that I've moved on to the round of 32.
My next poem will be up Monday morning, but I can't tell you what it's about since I haven't yet received the word I have to use for it! In the meantime, there's great reading up at Ed's site, and other poems coming up for voting Sunday morning. I hope you'll check it out. Good times!
The above poem was the first one I wrote based on the word I got in the first round - wired. I eventually submitted a totally different poem, but I thought it would be fun to share this one, too.
Plus, I just announced the 2012 Edition of 30 Poets/30 Days. I hope you'll be following along, as the poetry in April is going to be fantastic.
If you'd to get all the poems here at GottaBook emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Friday, February 10, 2012
My Dad's a Hippopotamus (a poetry re-issue)
MY DAD’S A HIPPOPOTAMUS
by
Greg Pincus
My dad’s a hippopotamus.
He’s dad to quite a lot of us.
You think that’s strange? I don’t know why,
Since we’re all hippopotami.
We’re friends with a rhinoceros,
Who I think looks preposterous.
I’m glad that I don’t spend time bein’
Something so rhinocerian.
We live next to a crocodile.
He’s over there on his own isle.
He’s got big bumps on each short limb.
I’m glad that I don’t look like him.
We also know a chimpanzee,
The strangest creature that you’ll see.
Those gangly arms look out of place,
And I would never want his face.
Right nearby’s an ocelot.
He likes to mew and roar a lot.
With spots and splotches hard to miss,
I think he looks ridiculous.
But there’s one creature that we see
That’s most absurd. We all agree.
It comes to visit at our zoo.
And... oh... how sad! It looks like you.
For reasons unknown to me, this poem has been stuck in my head lately. I figured that was a good reason to re-post it (it first appeared here in April of 2008) You can see what else folks are up to if you head on over to the Poetry Friday roundup (hosted by Laura Purdie Salas).
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Greg Pincus
My dad’s a hippopotamus.
He’s dad to quite a lot of us.
You think that’s strange? I don’t know why,
Since we’re all hippopotami.
We’re friends with a rhinoceros,
Who I think looks preposterous.
I’m glad that I don’t spend time bein’
Something so rhinocerian.
We live next to a crocodile.
He’s over there on his own isle.
He’s got big bumps on each short limb.
I’m glad that I don’t look like him.
We also know a chimpanzee,
The strangest creature that you’ll see.
Those gangly arms look out of place,
And I would never want his face.
Right nearby’s an ocelot.
He likes to mew and roar a lot.
With spots and splotches hard to miss,
I think he looks ridiculous.
But there’s one creature that we see
That’s most absurd. We all agree.
It comes to visit at our zoo.
And... oh... how sad! It looks like you.
For reasons unknown to me, this poem has been stuck in my head lately. I figured that was a good reason to re-post it (it first appeared here in April of 2008) You can see what else folks are up to if you head on over to the Poetry Friday roundup (hosted by Laura Purdie Salas).
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Monday, July 04, 2011
Something's In the Air - a 4th of July poem/a friends and family poem
SOMETHING’S IN THE AIR
by
Greg Pincus
My friends have all been arguing.
My brother spats with sis.
My mom and dad
Are fighting mad
(Although I saw them kiss).
Perhaps it’s just the summer heat
That’s making tempers flare?
That could be true.
I have no clue,
But something’s in the air.
So now, today, July the Fourth,
I think a picnic’s right.
I’ll make a call,
“Come one and all,
Let’s eat and talk all night.”
I’ll post big signs about each guest,
I’ll list their flaws and quirks.
Then I’ll step back
To yell “attack!”...
And watch the fireworks.
Happy July 4th to you all (whether you're celebrating Independence Day or are, perhaps, overseas and merely experiencing July 4th as another day). For that matter, happy whatever day it might be when you read this! I've heard this Internet thang is forever, and you might just run into this another day... :-)
By the way, if you want to get all my poems emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Greg Pincus
My friends have all been arguing.
My brother spats with sis.
My mom and dad
Are fighting mad
(Although I saw them kiss).
Perhaps it’s just the summer heat
That’s making tempers flare?
That could be true.
I have no clue,
But something’s in the air.
So now, today, July the Fourth,
I think a picnic’s right.
I’ll make a call,
“Come one and all,
Let’s eat and talk all night.”
I’ll post big signs about each guest,
I’ll list their flaws and quirks.
Then I’ll step back
To yell “attack!”...
And watch the fireworks.
Happy July 4th to you all (whether you're celebrating Independence Day or are, perhaps, overseas and merely experiencing July 4th as another day). For that matter, happy whatever day it might be when you read this! I've heard this Internet thang is forever, and you might just run into this another day... :-)
By the way, if you want to get all my poems emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
I Do Not Like My Haircut -- a poem about a bad haircut/a haircut poem
I DO NOT LIKE MY HAIRCUT
by
Gregory K.
I do not like my haircut.
I’ll never get another.
Or if I do, next time, for sure, it won’t be from my brother.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Gregory K.
I do not like my haircut.
I’ll never get another.
Or if I do, next time, for sure, it won’t be from my brother.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Thursday, April 17, 2008
My Toe -- a poem about a body part/a toe poem
MY TOE
By
Gregory K.
Does anyone know what I did with my toe?
I can’t seem to find it myself.
I’d taken it off to clean under the nail
Then put it up here on this shelf.
I put some clothes on and came back -- it was gone.
Now I’ve checked every room in the house.
I’m starting to think it was taken away
By our cat or our dog or a mouse.
I went to my dad and although he was sad,
He said, “Sorry, go check with your brothers.”
But no one has seen that poor little, lost toe....
Oh well. I still have nine others.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
By
Gregory K.
Does anyone know what I did with my toe?
I can’t seem to find it myself.
I’d taken it off to clean under the nail
Then put it up here on this shelf.
I put some clothes on and came back -- it was gone.
Now I’ve checked every room in the house.
I’m starting to think it was taken away
By our cat or our dog or a mouse.
I went to my dad and although he was sad,
He said, “Sorry, go check with your brothers.”
But no one has seen that poor little, lost toe....
Oh well. I still have nine others.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Monday, April 14, 2008
My Brother Plays Accordion -- an accordion poem/a musical instrument poem
MY BROTHER PLAYS ACCORDION
By
Gregory K.
My life was really good, but then…
My brother “learned” accordion.
Some folks play it well, but sadly…
Not my bro – he plays it badly.
He puts his fingers on the keys
Then gives that beast a mighty squeeze.
Sounds emerge… but they’re not notes.
Instead, it sounds like angry goats
Plus honking horns and fighting cats
With just a pinch of screeching bats.
My parents don’t know what to say,
And both of them have gone quite gray.
We all so miss those days back when
Before there was accordion
When life was good without a care…
And my sister’s bagpipes filled the air.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
By
Gregory K.
My life was really good, but then…
My brother “learned” accordion.
Some folks play it well, but sadly…
Not my bro – he plays it badly.
He puts his fingers on the keys
Then gives that beast a mighty squeeze.
Sounds emerge… but they’re not notes.
Instead, it sounds like angry goats
Plus honking horns and fighting cats
With just a pinch of screeching bats.
My parents don’t know what to say,
And both of them have gone quite gray.
We all so miss those days back when
Before there was accordion
When life was good without a care…
And my sister’s bagpipes filled the air.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Tennis Doubles Trouble -- a tennis poem
TENNIS DOUBLES TROUBLE
by
Gregory K.
My doubles partner’s really bad.
We never win. It makes me mad.
I’d trade him but he’d get so sad.
I really I wish I never had
Teamed for doubles with my dad.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Gregory K.
My doubles partner’s really bad.
We never win. It makes me mad.
I’d trade him but he’d get so sad.
I really I wish I never had
Teamed for doubles with my dad.
I'm posting an original poem each day in April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and I post all year round, because poetry is NOT just for April!) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Monday, April 23, 2007
I Lost My Voice -- a voice poem/a baby brother poem
I LOST MY VOICE
by
Gregory K. Pincus
This morning when I first got up, I knew I’d lost my voice.
I truly couldn’t make a sound (which made my sis rejoice).
I’d had my voice the night before. I wondered where it went.
I checked my floor, beneath the bed, inside the heating vent.
I peeked in every dresser drawer. I looked both high and low.
I figured it was somewhere near, but where I didn’t know.
I searched and searched until I screamed in vain in great frustration…
But then I heard my voice, and it was deep in conversation!
My voice was with my father in the kitchen down the hall,
And I have to say I didn’t like the words it spoke at all.
I hurried to the kitchen, and I peeked in through the door.
And what I saw is something that I’d never seen before.
I still can’t quite believe it, but there’s just no way around it...
I lost my voice this morning, and my baby brother found it!
(I'm posting an original poem-a-day through April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and there are lots of others, because poetry is NOT just for April) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".)
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Gregory K. Pincus
This morning when I first got up, I knew I’d lost my voice.
I truly couldn’t make a sound (which made my sis rejoice).
I’d had my voice the night before. I wondered where it went.
I checked my floor, beneath the bed, inside the heating vent.
I peeked in every dresser drawer. I looked both high and low.
I figured it was somewhere near, but where I didn’t know.
I searched and searched until I screamed in vain in great frustration…
But then I heard my voice, and it was deep in conversation!
My voice was with my father in the kitchen down the hall,
And I have to say I didn’t like the words it spoke at all.
I hurried to the kitchen, and I peeked in through the door.
And what I saw is something that I’d never seen before.
I still can’t quite believe it, but there’s just no way around it...
I lost my voice this morning, and my baby brother found it!
(I'm posting an original poem-a-day through April in celebration of National Poetry Month. Links to this and other poems here on GottaBook (and there are lots of others, because poetry is NOT just for April) are collected over on the right of the blog under the headline "The Poems".)
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Happy Mother's Day -- a mother's day poem
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
by
Gregory K.
I made my mom a giant card
With letters three feet tall
(I couldn’t find the paper
So I used the playroom wall).
Then I made her breakfast –
Trix and jam rolled up in bread!
I think she would’ve liked it,
But I spilled it on her bed.
Our neighbor grows great roses,
So I filled our biggest vase.
I wish you could’ve seen it –
What a look on Mommy’s face!
Our cuckoo clock chirped six A.M.
I said I’d go and play.
Then I told my mom I loved her…
And she said I’d made her day.
(for your procrastinatory pleasure, links to this and other poems here on GottaBook are collected to the right under the headline "The Poems".)
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
by
Gregory K.
I made my mom a giant card
With letters three feet tall
(I couldn’t find the paper
So I used the playroom wall).
Then I made her breakfast –
Trix and jam rolled up in bread!
I think she would’ve liked it,
But I spilled it on her bed.
Our neighbor grows great roses,
So I filled our biggest vase.
I wish you could’ve seen it –
What a look on Mommy’s face!
Our cuckoo clock chirped six A.M.
I said I’d go and play.
Then I told my mom I loved her…
And she said I’d made her day.
(for your procrastinatory pleasure, links to this and other poems here on GottaBook are collected to the right under the headline "The Poems".)
If you want to get all my new poems (and only the poems) emailed to you for freeee as they hit the blog, enter your email address in the box below then click subscribe!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Poem of the Day: My Brother is Totally Edible
MY BROTHER IS TOTALLY EDIBLE
by
Gregory K.
Can I tell you something incredible?
My brother is totally edible!
My mom and my dad
Are a tiny bit sad,
And they both find the problem regrettable.
My brother, he isn’t a dummy,
And he loves being inside a tummy.
Since he doesn’t care,
He’s now part of our fare,
‘Cause the strangest part is he’s quite yummy.
by
Gregory K.
Can I tell you something incredible?
My brother is totally edible!
My mom and my dad
Are a tiny bit sad,
And they both find the problem regrettable.
My brother, he isn’t a dummy,
And he loves being inside a tummy.
Since he doesn’t care,
He’s now part of our fare,
‘Cause the strangest part is he’s quite yummy.
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