Monthly Archives: January 2016

WHO DOES WHAT. AND WHY?

24 Sunday Jan 2016

Posted by in Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, Nonsensical, Writings

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Mister Martin MacNamara makes marvelously meticulous metropolitan maps.

His wife Wilma weaves wonderfully whimsical well-favored Welsh wigs.

Her brother Barton bakes beautifully broiled butter battered Belgian buns.

His son Sammy stocks sensationally sweet Southern sarsaparilla sodas, and

his sister Sally stacks staggeringly striking sporty Spanish sombreros.

Their uncle Usual unloads upliftingly Utopian utterances under-fined until undermined. Understand? Neither do I.

That’s why his boss Buzzby just barks!

 

by John Patrick Seekamp 2016

 

BEHOLD A STORMY SEA

19 Tuesday Jan 2016

Posted by in Creative writing, Fiction, Observations, Poems, Sea tales, Writings

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Behold    skies darkened    from a high hill below,

Winds whipping    and clipping    and bringing a throw,

There    by quiet’s leaving    as the spraying surged so,

Down    where the beach sands    are frenzied and tossed,

Down    where the sea birds    and coasters are lost,

The mischievous    embroiling    of the boisterous flossed,

And darkened skies watched from below,

So then behold the battering blow.

 

Oh    behold    the tumbling swill,

Waves lashing    and smashing    and crashing at will,

Down    by the rocks    where the foamy waters mill,

There    where the oceans    churn and fling white,

There    where the breakers    and shoreline do fight,

A grievous    turmoiling    of tumultuous might,

So watch for the tumbling swill,

And then behold the calm coming still.

 

by John Patrick Seekamp 2016

THE TIN CAN TIN MAN

12 Tuesday Jan 2016

Posted by in Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, Observations, Poems, Uncategorized, Writings

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The tin can Tin Man that hung on our door,

There guarding us all day and night,

He secretly wanted to drop to the floor,

And walk to his heart felt delight,

But the way he was hooked he couldn’t get down,

The wire was wrapped all too tight,

He tried and he tried ’til his smile was a frown,

It’s no use, he thought of the plight,

Weeks by weeks, years by years, there he remained the same height,

Struggling hard not to give in to tears,

But not letting his dream go from sight,

Then late one eve as my family and I slept,

With the moon shining cloudless and bright,

The nail popped loose from where it was kept,

And from the door our can man took flight,

At first he stumbled and then he ran,

The clanging of his metal was quite,

All the neighborhood dogs they barked with a ban,

Giving the tin can Tin Man a good fright,

But it was when he came to a junkyard he stopped,

What is this I now see—-is that right?

And then the wooden fence he climbed up and hopped,

Soon his chest it pounded with might,

You see, in his heart he knew what he saw was his mate,

A female version of a knight,

And from that day forth they followed their fate,

For they had nine little tin cans outright!

 

by John Patrick Seekamp 2016

 

 

JUST A ONETIME AND FORMER PROPER ARISTOCRAT

12 Tuesday Jan 2016

Posted by in Adventure, Creative writing, Fiction, Humor, lyrics, Lyrics for a song, Observations, Poems, Writings

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While some prefer a quietude,

A chess and checkers attitude,

I prefer a good ol’ tiger hunt,

Instead of banters light and pleasant,

Of latest fashions and lunch of pheasant,

I travel India to kill—-and that is blunt,

I have no time for a leisure tea or a leisure life lived leisurely,

So off to the jungles of Asia I do go,

Though hunting big cats tops the list,

A nasty pig sticking I’ve rarely missed,

And a shot at a rhino or a croc I’ll often throw,

 

Yes once I was a proper aristocrat,

Wearing a lounge coat or a suit, cane, and top hat,

But soon that life became too boring,

For this old bird who’d rather go soaring,

I’m just a world class man of the wilds—-and that is that,

Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat!

 

You see, a Maharaja friend of mine,

Invited me to spend some time,

High atop his favorite elephant’s back,

So instead of sitting around in Surrey,

I hopped a boat and left all worry,

To those torn between a bauble and a knickknack,

In their fancy dress and fancy hats,

With their fancy pampered pussy cats,

They dare to dabble in discussions much too droll,

And while I’m out risking life and limb,

They’re sitting in fan cooled rooms lit dim,

Slowly snacking on kippered salmon served up whole,

 

Yes once I was a proper aristocrat,

Wearing a lounge coat or a suit, cane, and top hat,

But soon that life became too boring,

For this old bird who’d rather go soaring,

I’m just a world class man of the wilds—-and that is that,

Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat!

 

To conclude,

So to those who prefer the safe idle comforts of the parlor,

And not being out here on the trail of a growler or snarler,

Go ahead and shout “Muggins” in a card game or such,

While I hold the wonders of adventure in my clutch,

With gratitude—-it’s the wilds, or the jungles, or the brush, or the thickets for me,

With platitude—-after champagne and caviar, enjoy your cribbage my dear friends and fam-i-ly!

 

Yes once I was a proper aristocrat,

Wearing a lounge coat or a suit, cane, and top hat,

But soon that life became too boring,

For this old bird who’d rather go soaring,

I’m just a world class man of the wilds—-and that is that,

I’m Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat,

Just a onetime and former proper aristocrat!

 

 

by John Patrick Seekamp 2016