I am an awfully good poet And I think that the whole world should know it All the poems you need Have been written by me Who said that Shakespeare was a poet

[I wrote the above decades ago I hope that you did love it so This new one in brackets Wasn’t stored in my attic Oh how I do love limericks so.]

(And I thought I should say by the way I’m not as proud as all that if I may It just popped in my mind As a curious find I’m surprised I remember it today.)

{By the way if you think I am awful That my limericks should all be unlawful It’s okay, I don’t mind You need not be kind Your comments to me can be awful.}

<Using the different brackets has been fun I could not stop using them at one I just wanted a note So the first brackets I wrote Now that I have used them all, I am done.>

“You know, she really likes you.”

“Of course she does. We’re best friends.”

“No, dude. She likes likes you. You know…” Tim nudged his friend. “…she wants you to be her boyfriend.”

“As if.” Simon laughed.

Madison was walking by, but had not seen her two friends.

“Hey Madi!”

Madison turned to face the boys. She smiled as she approached.

Simon nudged Tim as he said, “This bonehead thinks that you like me. As in like like. Can you believe that?”

Madison turned bright red. She glared at Tim. Then she turned to Simon with a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned to Tim again and shot him a look.

Tim thought, “If looks could kill…” He turned to Simon. “Okay. So if Madi say turned red or made puppy dog eyes whenever you were around, you wouldn’t think anything of that.” He glanced at Madison, who was now red with rage instead of embarrassment. He snickered and was glad that he was far enough away that she could not kick his shins.

Simon smiled. “Nah. Look, she’s red now, but she looks like she’d rather strangle you than do anything with me.”

Tim chuckled. “Well, that’s definitely true. And so observant. But you know, you’re the only one in the whole wide world who calls her Madi. She corrects everybody else and says, ‘It’s Madison.’”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean…”

“And she’s the only one who calls you Sye. You have little pet names for each other.”

Simon looked like he might be starting to see the light. He said, “Hey, that’s right. Nobody calls me Sye but you, and nobody calls you Madi but me.” He looked right at Madison. “Does that mean you like like me?”

Madison looked at Tim. He could see that her red, mad look was gone. Her eyes were wide. She looked like a trapped animal looking for an escape. Tim provided one. He looked at his friend. “Nah. You got it right the first time. Madison’s just your best friend.” He nudged his friend and winked. “If it turns into more, she’ll make sure to let you know. Unless you let her know first. You know. If it turns into more for you.” He winked again.

Madison let out a deep breath. Simon smiled.

Simon looked at Madison. He seemed to be studying her. Tim noticed that she was turning red again. Just a little. Simon finally said, “I will definitely let you know. But you gotta let me know if you like like me first.”

Madison just nodded her head.

Simon looked at his watch. “Oh shoot. I gotta go. See ya.” He turned and left without looking back.

Madison hit Tim hard on his shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You know exactly what that was for.”

Tim smiled. “No. I told you. He doesn’t have a clue that you like him. Even though the signs are right in front of him.”

“So you decided to tell him. You told him that I liked him even though I told you not to.”

Tim laughed. “Of course I did. I told you he would only believe it if it came from your mouth. After all, he might be both our best friend, but he is still oblivious. He is after all, just simple Simon.”

Fall down, get up, fall down, get up It’s so cold and wet here on the ice Get up, fall down, get up, fall down Staying down could be so nice.

For whenever I come to the rink Ten-thousand times I fall And every time I do get up Although the ice to me does call.

“Stay down,” it says. “No, don’t get up.” “I’ll take care of you this day.” “Just stay here in your warm parka.” “You’ll never have to go away.”

But I resist the urge to stay Curled up tight upon the ice For quitting this or anything Would be too steep a price.

For whether it be ice skating Or learning to drive a car Quitting this or anything Means I can never go too far.

For Daddy always said to me, “Son, do not ever ever quit.” And Mama echoed his sentiment, “You’ll end up regretting it.”

And so I strap up my ice skates And fall and fall once more Until I can skate around the rink Faster than I ever could before.

I do the same with everything That I decide is worthwhile The things that take time and effort That take going the extra mile.

So I say to you my friend Strap on your pair of skates Fall down, get up, fall down, get up Success for you awaits.

“My leftover pizza!”

Joey stood frozen mid-bite at the kitchen counter. It was as if he thought standing still would make his roommate forget him. Better yet, he thought it might make him invisible. But Joey knew that Ralph saw him, the now empty pizza box that he was using as a plate, and, of course, the last piece of pizza dangling from his mouth. He met Ralph’s gaze, even though he did not want to. He took the pizza slice from his mouth and offered it to his friend. It was no worse for wear, except that it had teeth marks in it.

“Uh. You can have the last piece.”

“You took a bite out of it!”

Joey stammered, “Well… I… Uh… No. Technically, the bite is still there. There are teeth marks though.” He smiled. Or at least he tried to.

“You knew I was saving that for lunch. And it was half a pizza!”

Joey hung his head. He looked at Ralph’s feet, and shuffled his own. “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.” He looked up. And smiled. “But I can make it up to you. C’mon. We can go get pizza now.”

“Right. Lunch hour rush. Our favorite pizza place. I’m driving. And probably paying too.”

Joey smiled. “Perfect. I’ll get my coat.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“And…”

Ralph sighed. “I’ll get my coat.”

“Don’t forget your keys. And you wallet.”

Joey ate the last slice of pizza on the way out the door.

Is it? Is it civilization? Finally? I have been wandering in this desert for what seems like forever. And there it is. A phone booth! And lights beyond. A city? Oh joy. I might finally be done with this nightmare. Finally, I can have water. And maybe a little food. How long has it been? Five days? Six? A month? I just don’t know. I have seen mirages and had hallucinations. I do not even know whether the phone booth is real. But it has not disappeared yet. Just a couple more steps.

The walls seem solid enough. The phone seems real. But alas. No dial tone. And I don’t have a quarter anyway.

I lean back against the wall. Drat! No wall. I wake up from a falling dream. I’m still where I was last time I thought I moved. Still lying on the sand. Still in this miserable desert. Alone.

Grandma always told me, great stories from her past Of how she had to struggle, to make the produce last Of how she relied on her children, to take care of each other Of how one of my aunties, was like a second mother Of how she suffered prejudice, because of the browness of her skin Of how she converted Grandpa, and got the blame again Of how she suffered through it, with the help of neighbors and friends Of how she did not know, if she could do it all again Of how she raised her children, to be stalwarts of their communities Of how she did the best she could, to ensure they'd have unity Of how she fished with Grandpa, and with him farmed the land Of how she met the needs, of everyone's demand Yes, Grandma told me stories, I wish I wrote them all As it is, I have recollections, and tidbits I can recall.

I am so glad that nobody recognizes me. I’m just a regular guy now. Just walking down the street is a pleasure now that nobody recognizes me. Nobody recognizes me. “Nobody recognizes me! Hallelujah!”

I look around me. A couple people stop to stare at me. But the rest go on as if nothing happened. Boy… I cannot believe I said that out loud. But it is so amazing. Nobody recognizes me.

Then again, it wasn’t really me they all recognized anyway, was it. It was my father. We would walk down the street and people would stare. A couple of people even spit on him. On me too! And I never did anything to deserve that. Just being my father’s son. That was enough to earn their ire. And it was enough for them to believe that I earned their hatred too.

I remember the papers, ha, newspapers, I remember them. And then the internet always commenting on my father. On what he had done. And they thought I was cut from the same cloth. Even though I was only a child. I had no idea what my father had done. I had barely been born when he was on trial. A mere babe when he went to prison.

I had no idea that he had bilked people out of millions of dollars. Not millionaires or billionaires. Not people who others thought could afford it. My father had cheated regular people out of their life savings.

Oh sure. He had paid his debt to society. He had spent all of my formative years in prison. Out of the spotlight. But when he and I walked down the sidewalk together after he got out, it was as if he was still cheating. Cheating not just those he cheated before, but everybody on the street. And it was like I was cheating them too.

That was years ago, but I still remember those feelings. I remember being humiliated by the stares and the jeers. Yes, and even the spit. I remember it finally dissipating as I grew older. And after we had moved from where I was raised.

It’s funny though. If I was going to place blame on anybody for the way I am now, I would blame all those people who jeered and stared and spit on us. I would blame their unforgiving hearts on who I have become. But I smile as I think about the truth. I smile because I know how to do what my father did much better than he ever did. And I can do it without anybody knowing who I am.

I am so glad nobody recognizes me.

Whispers that come in the night Often carry further than those whispered in the day.

Is there some deep dark secret? Is there some nefarious plot? What is this dark dread? Why can I shake it not? Is it imagination Making my fears come awake? Why do those whispers at night Make my whole body shake?

Shadows cast in the night Often scare more deeply than those cast in the day.

The clouds cover the stars The clouds cover the moon But the shadows of night I wish would leave soon For they cover the movements Of the creatures of night They hide all the demons That give me such a fright.

But the sun gives its light Often exposing the whispers and dispersing the shadows.

I long for the sun To shed its bright light To give truth to the whispers To chase the creatures of night To take all the dread To bring hope for the day “Goodbye whispers, goodbye shadows.” Is what I hear the sun say.

"Argh! I blundered my queen!"

"It's just a game."

"Just a game! Chess is the game of kings!"

"Seems like a game of queens to me. You know. Queens are so powerful and all."

"Right."

"Well, now that you lost one, you wanna head out for a real bite to eat or something?"

"Huh? No. But if you wanna play, I can teach you. That way you can participate instead of just watching."

"Thanks. But I don't think chess is my game. I didn't really know that this was a chess hangout."

"Right... You had to have. You musta seen the logo, a chess knight and queen. It matches the name plus the slogan says it all. 'Knights and Queens Bistro. Food, drinks, and chess. All day, all night.'"

"Yeah. Well, I just thought..."

"You just thought you could waltz in here and find a nice smart girl who you could sweep off her feet and take somewhere else for drinks or clubbing. You thought your knightly charm and good looks would win the night, and away you'd walk with the new queen of your heart."

"I... I... I..."

"Look. I'm not just a pretty face or just a smart girl. I've got a high IQ, a high Elo rating (that's a chess rating system, if you didn't know), and I do not fall for just any Sir Galahad. And tonight, while I appreciate the hors d'oeuvres and the sodas, I am here for the chess. I rarely lose to this poser..."

"Hey! I resemble that remark," smiled the Poser.

"...and I am not about to quit after losing that pitiful game."

"She really is all that she says she is. We're not together, because she's way out of my league. Mentally, chess-ly, and obviously physically. So you don't stand a chance friend." The Poser looked over at the would-be Sir Galahad sitting there with his mouth wide open. "Especially, since you're a mouth-breather."

The would-be Sir Galahad closed his open mouth, stood, and turned toward the counter. He paid his tab and walked out without looking back.

"You know, that was just mean." The Poser paused from setting up the board to look at his friend. "But I suppose you had it all planned out seven moves in advance when he came over to the table and asked if he could watch."

The Chess Queen smiled. "Eight. Eight moves in advance."

They both laughed.

I woke with a start. Napping. A luxury that I could not afford. I was about to lose my apartment. No job for weeks. No prospects. Just short stints here and there. Just like the rest of the world. Or at least like everybody in my world.

I went into the bathroom, and did my business. Then, I washed my face. Or at least splashed some cold water on my face. What was I going to do?

I tripped on the small throw rug in the kitchen. That was when I heard the jingle in my pocket. I reached in and found six quarters. A buck and a half. Whooey! I was rich. I decided that a condemned man is entitled to one last meal. Even if was just a couple Ho Hos that I could buy at the convenience store down the street.

I walked down the hall. Jimmy must have super hearing, because he called out to me as I passed his open door.

“Yo, Marty! Whatcha gonna do with all that change jangling in your pocket? Why don’tcha come play a couple hands of blackjack with us?”

I looked in the door, and shook my head. “Nah. I’m gonna go get a last meal before they toss me outa this dump. A man deserves a last meal. Right?”

Jimmy smiled. It made me think of the grin that the devil musta given to Adam and Eve way back in the garden. Made me shiver. But I still listened.

“Well if that’s all it takes… C’mon in and take a load off. Have a slice of pizza and a drink.”

“Now, you know I don’t drink. I…”

“It’s just soda. You can have a whole can. Unopened.”

“Well…”

“On me.” Jimmy smiled that smile. “Ah c’mon. Just a little blackjack. I’m the house.”

That pizza might have been greasy and cold, but it smelled good. And it was probably better than a Ho Ho. I stepped in and sat down at the table.

I hedged my bets and pulled three of my quarters out of my pocket, and put them in front of me.

“Ah c’mon now. I know I heard more quarters in your pocket than those measly three. Why don’tcha see if you can give ‘em some company in that lonely pocket of yours?”

I reached in and pulled out one more quarter trying not to scrape it on the other two in there.

“You gonna bet that all on one hand?”

“Nah. I figure I better just go a quarter at a time so I can get me some pizza in my belly.”

Jimmy winked. “That’s good thinkin’. Go ahead and have a piece while I deal.”

I grabbed a slice and gobbled it down while Jimmy dealt the cards. Two down to everybody and one down, one up to himself. Well, I got two or three blackjacks and had myself a lot more money than I had coming in after just half an hour. But I only had that one piece of pizza. And it was turning in my stomach. Or maybe I was feeling the anxiety of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Uh, Jimmy.” Jimmy looked up at me. “I know it’s bad form to take the money and run, but my gut’s doin’ summersaults, and I gotta leave real soon.”

Jimmy smiled. “I’ll tell you what. You just take what you want from that pile and put it in your pocket. Then bet the rest on this next hand, right? I’m sure it’s gonna be a great hand.”

I knew Jimmy better than that. His generosity was not his strong suit. I slid the whole pile forward on the table as my bet. I grabbed as many coins as I could without letting anybody see or hear. “Okay. I’m all in as those gamblers always say.”

Well, it was obvious that I was not going to win. I was dealt a ten and a three. I hit and got a nine. Bust.

“Well, I guess you’re done man.”

“I guess so.” I stood.

Jimmy frowned. “Wait a minute. You forgot to pay for that pizza slice.”

“But you said…”

“I said have a slice. I only said the soda, which you did’t have, was on me. But I didn’t say you didn’t hafta pay for the pizza. Normally, it’s a buck a slice, but for you, those last two quarters in your pocket ought to do.”

I reached in my pocket and fished out the two quarters. It was the last of the money I had brought into the room with me. I set it on the table.

Jimmy smiled. “Nice doin’ business with you Marty. Don’t be a stranger after they kick you out.” He and his buddies laughed.

I walked down the hall toward the front door. I put the quarters that I had managed to sneak from the pile into my pockets. So quiet that Jimmy could not hear them over the laughter in his room. Five in each pocket. Not quite double, but enough for a Ho Ho.

I might not have had any prospects for the next day, but I felt like I was on top of the world with more money in my pocket than I had just an hour before.