William Carlos Williams and his Red Wheelbarrow

William Carlos Williams and his Red Wheelbarrow

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The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends

upon

a red wheel

barrow

glazed with rain

water

beside the white

chickens

William Carlos Williams

Oddly enough, my beef today is not with William Carlos Williams, but rather with his anthologists. To think that he can be summed up by a red wheelbarrow, rain and white chickens is really sad. But still at every anthological turn, there is that red wheelbarrow staring you in the face, reminding you of the fellow who handled his stethoscope supposedly as deftly as his pen.

Some of those anthologists/critics seem to experience nirvana as they extol the brilliance of breaking “wheelbarrow” into two words. If the big hunchos at Home Depot ever got wind of the value attached to broken wheelbarrows, they’d be asking full price for those broken ones strewn about in their garden section. Better yet, they may consider them collectibles.

I’m sure Mr. Williams deserves his place among his contemporaries, but that’s not because of his broken wheelbarrow, but in spite of it.

Sometimes I wonder if breaking “wheelbarrow” into two words rises to the level of writing a whole body of poetry using only lowercase letters or, for that matter, doing away with punctuation altogether. Both of these ideas are quirky enough for me to like!

But my problem with all of this, is trying to find a way to tell a child why we’ll be reading “The Red Wheelbarrow” and not “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.”

Maybe the color red will be my savior!

You Figure it out!

How come no one is crying foul

When poetry depends upon

A wheelbarrow, some rain and fowl?

B. N. Faraj

A Thorny Issue for Dorothy Parker

A Thorny Issue for Dorothy Parker

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Fighting on for a Fighting Chance

Perfect or not, the rose gets my sympathy!

One Perfect Rose

A single flow’r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet–
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
“My fragile leaves,” it said, “his heart enclose.”
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it’s always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.

Dorothy Parker                    

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The Rascal

Why are you sad my little rose?

Ms. Parker hurt my feelings so!

Oh boy, did she step on your toes?

I didn’t think she’d stoop so low!

How vile of her! What could that be?

She picked a limo over me!  

B. N. Faraj

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The Scoundrel         

To her I always was the perfect rose

Till something better came along 

Is this how men are treated then by those 

Who can’t distinguish right from wrong?

B. N. Faraj

Picking a Fight with Dorothy Parker

Picking a Fight with Dorothy Parker

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Not that I expect to win, just hoping to score high on courage!

One way to make sure your lines don’t scan is to write them in prose.

And that’s exactly what Ms. Parker did.

Her motive? Well, she didn’t keep us guessing!

Fighting Words

Say I’m neither brave nor young
Say I woo and coddle care,
Say the devil touched my tongue—

Still you have my heart to wear.

But say my verses do not scan,
And I get me another man!

Dorothy Parker

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 Oh Poor Ms. Dorothy Parker

 She toiled to get her lines to scan

 But then she wrote her lines in prose

 To get herself another man  

 And that’s the way the story goes!

 B. N. Faraj

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 A Brilliant Swindle I Suppose

 She toiled to get her lines to scan

 But then she wrote her lines in prose—

 A trick to get another man

 It worked: she had a ton of beaus!

                          ◊◊◊

 I was convinced of that but then

 Her friends complained I wasn’t nice— 

 She never had a ton of men

 That’s why she married Alan twice!

 B. N. Faraj                                   

Marriage Counseling for Clint and Dina Eastwood

Romney Accepts Party Nomination At The Republican National Convention

Feeling for the Guy

Poor Clint, I hope he got the hint
The wife was ending their affair
He won’t be lone for long, for Clint
Can even charm an empty chair!

Feeling for the Gal

Dina, I’m sure you played no part
That led your man to his despair
It was the bed that fell apart
And made him want to seek a chair!

It’s not your fault, your legs are two
And dirty Clint is craving more
It’s him, not you! What can you do?
He simply fell for one with four!