Joe's Blog

 Welcome to The Poem of the Week  Blog Page!

Yankee Stadium, Farewell

By Tarzana Joe

Lest baseball fans forget

To fund “No! No! Nanette1”

The owner of the Red Sox

Made a deal he’d soon regret

Chalk it up to youth

But my friends, it’s just the truth

That deal laid the foundation

Of the ballpark built by Ruth

In the years that have come later

From “Bambino” to “The Gator”

No franchise on the planet

Had a record that was greater

No turf could ever hope

To have this ballpark’s scope

Hosting all contenders

From Max Schmeling to the Pope

And the measure of real fame

In this or any game

Is to step out on the field

And hear Bob Sheppard speak you name.

Now the All-Star game was great

Although it ended late

But it’s not the final chapter in

This story writ’ by fate.

For the angels in the hall

Who watch this game of ball

Are coming to the Bronx for

One more classic in the fall.

And the home team gets last licks

Why, it was built in to the bricks

And the Yanks will add one more

To that World Title 26

Poem for June 27, 2008

Gun Thoughts by Tarzana Joe

If I ever thought to get a gun

My inner voice would cry out

What do you want with a gun, TJ?

You’ld likely shoot your eye out.

Raised so far away from the NRA

That I never touched a rifle

Those semantic fights re: the Bill of Rights

Seemed an academic trifle

But in later life with a home and wife

I began to pay attention

To the need to care and the right to bear

And the framers’ true intention

I know despite good aims there are urban flames

And that firearms could fan them

But do we solve or at all evolve

If we merely try to ban them

Well I had my doubts due to all the shouts

But Scalia I could kiss ‘ya

Because you could sense the difference

Between a gang and a militia

Poem for June 20, 2008

You’ve often heard me sing this song

Everything you know is wrong

Those in darkness doused the light

Things you knew were wrong…are right

What goes up might not come down

And Vegas is a Temperance Town

 So now when oil prices soar

Let’s not drill for anymore

Pelosi and her merry band

Repealed supply, reformed demand

Sure, new refineries might be nice

But they might melt the polar ice

No matter what we must be fair

To terrorist and polar bear

Now soldiers entering fire fights

Must first shout out Miranda Rights

Opponents routed from their forts

Can take their case to higher courts

Those same courts that have opined

That marriages be redefined

 The eloquent Obama pleads

“To each according to his needs”

Echoing another’s screeds

And no one heeds, no one heeds

 O, where for art thou; where and whence

Have you gone, sweet common sense?

Poem of the Week for May 30, 2008

 Selling it

By Tarzana Joe

 I wasn’t there but I believe

That Leonidas lied

The Persians didn’t mean any harm

300 Spartans died

 Yes, Leonidas lied

300 Spartans died

 He sold the war to citizens with

Flummery and flake

And gullibly the Grecians

Thought their culture was at stake

 But clever Romans wouldn’t buy

What Caesars had to sell

“The Vandals are a peaceful group…”

 The Roman Empire fell.

 War is such a dreadful thing

That truly I am told

Everyone who goes to war

In someway must be sold 

He must be convinced his future

And his country are at stake

To understand the sacrifice

He might be called to make

 And those in charge must make the case

As they’ve been picked to lead

Use every means and every word

To illustrate the need.

 Disagree?  Then make your case

That’s what debate is for

You’ve got the edge

As there’s a lack of folks I know who want a war

 So next time you reach to get that Brand X from the shelf

Pick me up that modern myth, the war that sells itself.

Poem of the Week for May 23, 2008

 Fight on!

By Tarzana Joe

 “Fight on,” said the Trojans when their citadel was lost.

 “Fight on,” said the Hessians when the Delaware was crossed. 

“Fight on,” said the Germans when the Siegfried Line was burst. 

“Fight on,” says Ohio State every January 1st.

  “Fight on,” said the French… oh, no they didn’t.

 “Fight on,” said the Cubbies after Bartman snagged the ball.

 “Fight on,” said the Philistines after Samson decked the hall.

 “Fight on,” said old Custer, “Those arrows won’t hurt much.”

 “Fight on,” said James the Second…”Come on, it’s just the Dutch!”

 Fight on, Mrs. Clinton.  Fight on no matter what.

 In the words of the poet, “To that night, go gentle …not!”