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Sunday, May 21, 2006

Roto Rooters & Prune Whipped Pirate Ships

Here's some new poems, some absolutely new and some recent, to get you in the mood for the summer vacation prelude, yay! :) Don't forget to intone that Coppertone, don't want to be ol' Burnt Reynolds, no sir! :)

*

Promiscuous Planet
By: Noah Eaton
5/18/06

Betty Bajawaller’s,
got a case of the vapors,
on a hot dog budget,
with a coffee brick to taper,
went all kookabarn,
on a vaycay in Huahine, Tahiti,
laybacking peace treaties,
with the aquamarine graffiti.
She knew if everything’s under control,
she’s going way too slow,
she gave a charity throw of electric glow,
living with her toes on the nose.

Little Sally Saucer,
is there sitting in the water,
playing sharks and minnows,
with the river otters,
hailed a round trip,
around the edge of the folding lip,
a swivel-pinned mutton head,
on a prune whipped pirate ship.
She chased the bergwind,
swiftly down the frothy fall line,
re-alligning the high life…

Sapphire throne, impart your grateful heart,
a burning cathedral culinary art,
perfection of thought sheltered by carnauba palms,
flinching nourished with invincible balm…

Killer Dana’s,
in her zucchini bikini,
tanning on the hood,
of her yellow Lamborghini,
concierge of supernatural affairs,
licking a slab of miele biscotti,
migrates the years away,
between California and Kiribati.
She straddles the equator,
with a liquid cool aesthetic,
athletically unapologetic.

Sapphire throne, impart your grateful heart,
a burning cathedral culinary art,
perfection of thought sheltered by carnauba palms,
flinching nourished with invincible balm…

Alien love child,
hold your hands out as over a flame,
open to the sunshine,
the windows of all your veins,
fire in the sky,
may your phoenix lullaby flow,
from my toes to the plateau…

Promiscuous planet,
smolder the wide world over,
from the funny bone,
and beyond the picnic shoulder,
atchi katchi liberatchi,
take a peach, take a plum,
hey, go on, and take a piece
of cherry bubble gum.
Let’s make the starship blitz,
to the Rigil Kentaurus Ritz,
and Taos Hum like the Pleidans...

...surfing the universe like dreamy speed demons...

Sapphire throne, impart your grateful heart,
a burning cathedral culinary art,
perfection of thought sheltered by carnauba palms,
flinching nourished with invincible balm…
Sapphire throne, impart your grateful heart,
a burning cathedral culinary art,
perfection of thought sheltered by carnauba palms,
flinching nourished with invincible balm…


*

*

Holographic Lipstick
By: Noah Eaton
5/20/06

Subconscious sunburns,
discharging lemon Slush Puppie iridescence,
touches up her whimsical dimples,
where final fantasies are in attendance,
she’s a cookie tooth sleuth,
speckled with banana chip freckles,
bathing secret solstices away in Miriam’s Well,
with singing seahorses and the laughing gull.

Cotton candy unicorn getaways,
hightailing between soft-boiled wonderlands,
stardust spills from each sebaceous gland,
when she is queen of her motherland,
canary princes and flowering quinces,
loiter in her childlike wildlife,
she says the Blue Fairy has a sapphire castle,
in the southern pinwheel galaxy,
wants to fly there on the back of a Chinese dragon kite.

Kissing the sun,
with holographic lipstick,
she makes my heart frog kick,
double quick,
she’s a maid of the water’s daughter,
she’s the nymph of the Nixies,
she’s my itty-bitty,
dixie pixie gypsy…

Born to be the vixen of the Vardogls,
landing triple axels when the moon is full,
her altruism can inspire peace even within the Unseelie Court,
the valedictorian of her April Fools’ Choir School,
she’s a gossamer connoisseur of the Pacific silver firs,
giving the valleys a good dose of good karma,
stepping into the platter of this Fair Lady,
to taste of her lips poppy oil and sugar in the raw…

Kissing the sun,
with holographic lipstick,
she makes my heart frog kick,
double quick,
she’s a maid of the water’s daughter,
she’s the nymph of the Nixies,
she’s my itty-bitty,
dixie pixie gypsy…

Gypsy butterfly,
slowly and sweetly,
pirouette on my tongue,
indiscreetly, completely,
and I’ll rest your blithesome body,
upon my brightest magnellanic cloud,
glass blowing cocoa plum kingdoms,
having our romantic imaginations think out loud.

Kissing the sun,
with holographic lipstick,
she makes my heart frog kick,
double quick,
she’s a maid of the water’s daughter,
she’s the nymph of the Nixies,
she’s my itty-bitty,
dixie pixie gypsy...

...with holographic lipstick...

...holographic lipstick...

...holographic lipstick...

...holographic lipstick...
.
.
.


*

*

Should I Bring My Clarinet? (I Could Practice In The Car)
By: Noah Eaton
3/31/06

*

...who's that,
playing with the drum machine?

(I don't know)

*

Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)
Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)

Blowing my piccolo to altissimo,
dropping the scone on the bishop’s throne.

Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)
Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)

Throwing from my long bow of cocobolo,
a frenzied Italian marching band soul.

Pitch me an acai bowl,
and a tray of wasabi peanuts,
and I shall foot patrol with the oboe,
swoon with the bassoons lickety cut,
the trumpeter exposes the theme,
and my mission is its embroidering,
so before you head to the auditor,
buy me a six-case of Piranha Outrageous energy drink.

Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)
Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)

Making summer haw of Artie Shaw,
shrieking like a Dixieland macaw.

Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)
Should I bring my clarinet?
(I could practice in the car)

Benny Goodman must be my conjoined twin,
Woody Herman must be my patrilineal kin.

Ever since my Tamagotchi lost its batteries,
and is left parched of digital thirst,
I’ve been opening these emotional floodgates,
letting my deepest feelings emerge,
bouncing on the backseat like a Mexican jumping bead,
with a shoebox of interjections interspersed,
so while you’re at the rotary,
I’ll be submersed in bebop’s jaw droppin’ verse...

This clarinet is like a clarinet to me
(And that’s all that truly matters)
This clarinet is like a clarinet to me
(I could cook it up in fritter batter)
This clarinet is like a clarinet to me
(I don’t wanna play spin the platter)
This clarinet is like a clarinet to me
(Your geologist buddy is quite a chatter)

*

...quit playing with the drum machine.

(Sorry...

...you gotta admit it's infectious!)


*

*

Concentrate (Be The Dotted Line)
By: Noah Eaton
3/15/06

I got my ValPak coupon booklet,
I’m examining it thoroughly,
looking for a clipping valid,
for one free home delivery of Sierra Springs.
I see a $30 discount,
off Roto Rooter draining and plumbing,
and The Fast Frame has an offer on the table,
for $40 off any custom framing,

Now comes the tricky part,
hope this won’t disrupt my flow chart,
simply clipping for a la carte,
could become an eternal struggle.

I must concentrate
(I must interrelate)
Become the dotted line
(Let the line and you intertwine)
Cut straight between the line
(It’s a doctrine I consign)
Become the dotted line
(Become the line and you‘ll be fine)

I love supporting Box Tops for Education,
I collect them in groups of fifty,
when using scissors I wear magnifying goggles,
and a headlight to keep Sunday paper spiffy,
if I was better acquainted with ethnic cuisine,
I’d peruse and prune the Wednesday food section in a jiffy,
but just the thought of nyotaimori,
gives me cold sweats and involuntary trembling.

I cried myself to sleep on my Davenport,
when my wrist shook and cut athwart,
one worth $100 off any hardwood floor,
alas, that golden ticket’s glory broke short.

I must concentrate
(I must interrelate)
Become the dotted line
(Let the line and you intertwine)
Cut straight between the line
(It’s a doctrine I consign)
Become the dotted line
(Become the line and you‘ll be fine)

If I worked on a weekly salary,
I’d rush down to Camino Rug Gallery,
and redeem free pick-up and delivery,
but I’m just a busy detective burning away calories,
but I’m a dapper scamper, suave on rebates,
for full-service dry cleaning from Merry Maids,
from the Golden State to my hot plate,
consider my triple play and hang-tag savvy au fait.

I must concentrate
(I must interrelate)
Become the dotted line
(Let the line and you intertwine)
Cut straight between the line
(It’s a doctrine I consign)
Become the dotted line
(Become the line and you‘ll be fine)
.
.
.
.
.
Ohhhh...
.
ohhhh geez...
.
...I just snipped this one,
good for a free Swiffer,
inward from the line,
at an eight degree acute angle...
.
...oh, the horror,
the horror...
.
.
.


*

*

Ebenezer Caesar, Expert Parking Meter Reader & Carpet Beater
By: Noah Eaton
2/25/06

(Say, you remember our good buddy Ebenezer, right,
y’know, that lil’ teaser that lived in his freezer?
Well, I gather you’re curious how he’s been since,
so here’s a sequel that’ll warm up each square meter...)

In a well-mannered way,
he moved into a yurt on Biscayne Bay,
developing a wicked game of armadillo croquet,
mopping the green at the Chokoloskee Invitational.
He’s let his upright freezer salt away,
stays up til four indulged in single crochet,
treats Craft Corner Deathmatch like a second grade field day,
or drama queen improvisational.
Loves an afternoon river raft ride on his cafeteria tray,
aspiring to upgrade to a manta ray cabriolet,
and make it to Narragansett Bay by the break of day,
for the 117th annual shadow play congregational.

Presenting a whole new Ebenezer Caesar,
did I mention he’s a flirtatious parking meter reader,
he balances two paid jobs as a Polyneux Elementary intercom reader,
and your friendly neighborhood carpet beater,
he can be quite quirky, quite the lotus eater,
but he has more warmth than a kerosene heater,
raise that blue peter,
in honor of a newly-improved Ebenezer Caesar.

He’s made a couple close friends,
that live in a gulch buried in a magnolia bend,
they’re as tight as a frozen fisherman’s bend,
ah yes, his life’s real kosher.
One by the name of Cuddly Studley Dudley,
who founded a convention show on battling dust bunnies,
thus piqued Ebenezer’s interest in this easy money,
with a lust for life like an oven stuffer roaster.
Then there’s Pahayokee Phil,
lanky with a nose like a crane’s bill,
who customized a space station from a cider mill,
hunting for extraterrestrial roller-coasters.

Presenting a whole new Ebenezer Caesar,
did I mention he’s a flirtatious parking meter reader,
he balances two paid jobs as a Polyneux Elementary intercom reader,
and your friendly neighborhood carpet beater.
He can be quite quirky, quite the lotus eater,
but he has more warmth than a kerosene heater,
raise that blue peter,
in honor of a newly-improved Ebenezer Caesar.

Nails each quintuple lutz in lilypad figure skating,
something about his nimbleness is reinstating,
with him around there’s never any muckraking…

Presenting a whole new Ebenezer Caesar,
did I mention he’s a flirtatious parking meter reader,
he balances two paid jobs as a Polyneux Elementary intercom reader,
and your friendly neighborhood carpet beater.
He can be quite quirky, quite the lotus eater,
but he has more warmth than a kerosene heater,
raise that blue peter,
in honor of a newly-improved Ebenezer Caesar.

He beats that eyebrow tweezer by and large,
forget the Groove Jet’s cover charge,
send all your fond regards,
to our friend of former Frigidaire residence.

Presenting a whole new Ebenezer Caesar,
did I mention he’s a flirtatious parking meter reader,
he balances two paid jobs as a Polyneux Elementary intercom reader,
and your friendly neighborhood carpet beater.
He can be quite quirky, quite the lotus eater,
but he has more warmth than a kerosene heater,
raise that blue peter,
in honor of a newly-improved Ebenezer Caesar.

(Did I mention he’s dating the flying purple people eater,
hee hee hee,
he’s quite the zebra cake,
ah-ha ha ha ha ha!)

*


XOXO,
Noah Eaton
(Mistletoe Angel)
(Emmanuel Endorphin)

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