Thea Saurus read her first book
When she was only two
Then she perused Ivanhoe
And the Magna Carta, too
She scanned The Life of Johnson
It took about an hour
She finished reading War and Peace
While she took a shower
By the tender age of three,
Miss Saurus earned her PhD
Ontological semiotics is
Her spesh-ee-al-i-TEA
At four she’s Chair of English
At an Ivy college
None question her credentials,
So dazzled by her knowledge
by Richard W. Bray
You’re an eight-faced scoundrel
And a natural-born liar
A fraudulent trickster
And a bully for hire
A backstabbing rascal
And a world-class fraud
Hiding all your mischief
With a friendly facade
A double-dealing sinner
With a mutilated soul
Mendacious commander
Of the lowlife patrol
A hoodwinking devil
Prevaricating cad
A two-timing villain who’d
Swindle your own dad
Perfidious varmint
And an underhanded lout
Your delinquent credentials
Are beyond all doubt
A double-crossing blackguard
And a treacherous sneak
A shiftyshady grifter
Who preys on the weak
I’ll tell the whole world
You’re twelve kinds of stinky
Cuz you’re the dirty scamp
Who took my last twinkie
by Richard W. Bray
It was advertised as a chance to have our poetry critiqued by a real live published children’s poet.
We were instructed to bring samples of our work.
So I paid $100 dollars to attend a half-day “poetry workshop” at a lovely private school located in lovely Pacific Palisades, California put on by the SCBWI (the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators).
Like the several women and one other man who showed up at eight AM that morning, I was percolating with the hope of discovery. This would be my Dear Mr. Henshaw moment when an authentic published children’s author was going to tell me that I had what it takes to succeed.
But the real live children’s poet who ran this seminar had no intention of soiling her fine artistic temperament by actually reading any our work herself. Instead, we were put into groups and instructed to pass our poems around and leave comments on each other’s work. I got this gem of a comment on my poem My Funny Farm: “Why don’t you try rewriting it without using rhyme?”
In order to kill the last half hour of the seminar without having to engage in a direct one on one conversation with any of us, the Poetess in Charge instructed everyone to place one of her belongings on our respective tables and then each of us was to write a poem about something someone else had supplied. We were given fifteen minutes to complete this task.
When the woman leading the seminar asked if anyone wanted to read, the women at my table insisted that I share mine. It got a raucous round of laughter, which did not please our instructor one bit. Here’s the poem I wrote that day:
Ode to a Homeopathic PMS Remedy
Cranky, puffy, angry days
Aren’t relieved too many ways
But a homeopathic remedy
Might be what it takes to see
That PMS won’t ruin my day
Now it’s time to go and play
Then I had a nice lunch on the beach in Malibu and went home.
by Richard W. Bray
You tell me that I’m angry
It’s really not my fault
The world conspires against me
It’s not about to halt
You tell me that my anger
Won’t do me any good
Tell that to those people
Who aren’t acting like they should
You say I should be thankful
For everything I’ve got
Then I couldn’t complain about
The things that I have not
You say I am not helping
By being pessimistic
But nature gave me eyes
And it made me realistic
You tell me that I shouldn’t
See myself as God
A person needs a mentor
Why’s my choice so odd?
You say, “Get out and mingle
You’re a person, not a stone”
From what I’ve seen of people
I’m better off alone
by Richard W. Bray
It can’t be overstated
That dull is underrated
And boring is sublime
When you need a project ready
Be thorough, slow, and steady
Work and time will make it shine
Don’t make your schedule hurly-burly
Hit the sack and rise up early
And you’ll save yourself much strife
If you’re staying out till three
You’ll find a heap of misery
Home’s the place to make a life
Flash and fancy might be funner
But when you need to do it doner
Painstaking effort is the way
Poco a poco is my motto
And until you win the lotto
You should show up every day
by Richard W. Bray
Muy Muy Macho
I’m muy muy macho
You don’t wanna mess with me
I ain’t lost a donnybrook
Since Nineteen Eighty-Three
I shave with a machete
I eat razor blades for snacks
For fun I take my clothes off
And roll around in tacks
I’m muy muy macho
I never shed a tear
I swallow all my problems
And wash them down with beer
I floss my teeth with barbed wire
I wash with Brillo pads
Got a PhD in danger
And I wrote the Book of Bad
I’m muy muy macho
Don’t got no time for friends
And if you try to touch me
There’s a chance your life will end
Richard W. Bray
Dishes
Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?
Did you forget to turn on the machine?
Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?
Why are they foul and obscene?
Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?
They lack all luster and sheen.
Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?
Why are they yucky moldy green?
Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?
You look confused; don’t you know what I mean?
Are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?
by Richard W. Bray
The Easy Way
My friend Sal looks really great
From fifteen years of lifting weight
I got buff the easy way
Photoshop in just one day
Credit cards are awfully nice
Until you have to pay the price
One day they hauled my stuff away
For buying things the easy way
My septic tank began to spew
I fixed it with some super glue
Then it burst one smelly day
The perils of the easy way
When it got too trashed for play
I packed up and moved away
Ain’t it always like I say?
Why not try the easy way?
Manual labor is awfully hard
And why should I clean my new yard?
Why not try the easy way?
And burn my troubles all away
Things don’t always go as planned
That little fire got out of hand
The fire chief hauled me away
For doing things the easy way
by Richard W. Bray
sports shorts
Serve and volley and attack
Whack that ball, I’ll whack it back
I’m about to bust my spleen
The score is only Love-fifteen
My ball’s brown and your ball’s green
Whydya’ hafta’ be so mean?
You just knocked my ball away
Nice guys just shouldn’t play croquet
Run and run and kick the ball
Run some more and take a fall
They kick your knees, they kick your shin
You still go out and run again
Spin and aim and throw and grunt
Putting shot is quite a stunt
But when the shot put’s in the air
Folks around had best beware
Red lines, blue lines guys with sticks
And pucks that feel as hard as bricks
But I can barely tie my skates
A hockey star won’t be my fate
by Richard W. Bray
Tyrant
I’m the boss, so listen you
Cuz I’m the one on top
If the sunshine makes me blue
Then you must make it stop
Get up, sit down
Do everything I say
Come here, go there
Now please just go away
Guys like you need guys like me
To keep y’all on track
You’re competent and diligent
It’s leadership you lack
Get up, sit down
Do everything I say
Come here, go there
Now please just go away
I am here to govern you
That’s how life turned out
You must cry when I am blue
And listen when I shout
Get up, sit down
Do everything I say
Come here, go there
Now please just go away
You don’t need to thank me
For long hours and paltry pay
Adversity builds character
You’ll understand some day
Get up, sit down
Do everything I say
Come here, go there
Now please just go away
by Richard W. Bray
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