“Cardinal”

Your chirping’s like a dying smoke alarm,
Your rapid calls a firing laser gun,
Yet neither threatens listeners with harm
Or gives them any cause to flee or run.

–Paul Burgess

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“The Squeaky Wheel”

“The Squeaky Wheel” an epigram by Paul Burgess

Once people, early in their youth,
Have learned the vital, timeless truth
Of squeaky wheels receiving grease,
Their squeaking seems to never cease.

“Back in Granny’s Day” by Paul Burgess

When little Louie would complain,
It drove his granny quite insane.
She’d tell him, “Back in Granny’s day,
Jack the Ripper took her heart away.”

“A Disappointed Hunter Reads Harper Lee” by Paul Burgess

“A Disappointed Hunter Reads Harper Lee”

Mendacious Missus Harper Lee,
Your book’s misleading as can be.
From start to end, there’s not a word
On how to kill a mockingbird.

“Thomas Hobbes”

When influential monarchist Thomas Hobbes
Suggests that men in nature are like brutes,
The modern readers say, between their sobs,
“I guess some haven’t left behind their roots.”

3 Nature Poems by Paul Burgess

Below you will see what happens when a hack writes doggerel about everything he sees…

“The Death of a Bee”
While slowly closed the automatic door,
A bee remained between it and the floor.
No warning sign inside his head had flashed.
Without alarm, he stayed and soon was smashed.

“The Death of a Spider Mite”
With light and careful touch, I gently steered
A spider mite—who in my book appeared—
Towards the door and thought he’d safely fled…
…Until I saw the page all streaked with red.

“Retail Store Rafter Ecosystem”
Wal-Mart’s the store that sparrows like the best…
Between its rafters, many build a nest.

“Little Red Riding Hood” a 6th Clerihew-Inspired Quatrain By Paul Burgess

“Little Red Riding Hood”
Little Red, to do her granny good,
Went riding through a gangsta’s hood.
Suspecting that Wolf had laid a trap,
She grabbed her gun to bust a cap.

“Johnny and His Love”–a Traditional Ballad by Paul Burgess

“Johnny and His Love”—a Traditional Ballad by Paul Burgess [I think the ballad would work nicely with the music of Fairport Convention’s rendition of “Mattie Groves” https://search.yahoo.com/search?p=fairport+convention+mattie+groves&ei=UTF-8&fr=moz2-ytff-msgr

“It’s time to carry out our plan.
It’s time to run away.
We’ll meet behind the rotting barn,”
Is what Johnny had to say.

As he helped his Ma to milk the cow,
His face would never show
That he planned no more to work the farm
‘cuz away with his love he’d go.

Before his Ma retired to sleep,
He gently kissed her head.
The roar of snores was Johnny’s cue—
He grabbed his bag and fled.

No tears escaped from Johnny’s eyes
When he left behind his nest.
He only thought of how it’d feel
To stroke his lover’s breast.

In the moon, her eyes like pyrite shined
And overwhelmed him with bliss.
Behind the barn he touched her cheeks
Then began her lips to kiss.

He lost his fight with the burning urge
To touch her nether lips
And was stunned by what his fingers found
Between his lover’s hips.

Meanwhile, Ma discovered Johnny gone
And loaded up her gun
Then whispered to herself, “Lover girl
Has seen her final sun.”

As Ma approached the rotting barn,
Prepared to blow away
The girl who’d stolen Johnny’s heart,
She heard her Johnny say,

“If this had been revealed to me,
I’d not have made this plan.
For never once did I intend
To love another man.”

His love replied, “You promised me
That whatever came to pass…”
But Johnny cut her off and said,
“I thought you were a lass.”

Ma dropped her gun and confronted them,
Her eyes aglow with glee,
And addressed these words to her only son,
“That’s your prize for leaving me.”