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Friday, June 20, 2014

The Pill

There’s a pill for this
And a pill for that.
Ones for your flu,
Ones for your fat.

There's red ones for sniffles,
White ones for migraines.
They'll rid you of rashes,
All your aches and pains.

This one's for mornings,
Another for noon.
All kept in a box
So your head won't swoon.

Some are for bedtime,
Or so it seems.
Some make you crazy,
Will mess up your dreams.

Monday morning the green pill,
Tuesday, Thursday, the blue.
Wednesday, the tiny pink one,
Sunday, the ones you chew.

Why do the doctors
Who prescribe them to you,
Need you to tell them
On a list what they do?

Or have they all lunched
With the purveyors of pills,
Who think you're a lab rat
For curing most ills. 

-       bennie bell – 2012

© 2014 - lifeslittleverses.blogspot.com
   - All Rights Reserved

Friday, June 13, 2014

No Pretend

Come on fine lady
I'll take you downtown.
We'll see the freaks
and visit the clowns.

Wear your diamonds
And wear you lace.
Watch the night unfold
And the stars embrace.

Kick off your heels,
Go barefoot on the floor.
Shimmy and shake
Til you dance no more.

There's not much time left
To see the sunrise.
So clap your little hands
And I'll be your surprise.

Hold my hand tightly
And follow me to the end,
Where the dark meets light
And there's no pretend.

-       bennie bell – 2012

© 2014 - lifeslittleverses.blogspot.com
   - All Rights Reserved

Friday, January 3, 2014

Life Trek

A shard of swift lightning
Broke through the sky.
Danced on the wet roof,
Then waved me good-bye.

Pounding pellets of rain
Stung my cheek bones,
Deep puddles were formed
Splashing off stones.

The downpour cleansed me,
Gave me pause to think.
How much more of life
Was there left to drink?

Another flash in the clouds
Snapped me out of my daze.
Doses of life’s potient
Are not meted in days.

When we weather no more
The thunderous night,
Life’s elixir runs dry,
We give up the fight.

So reach out and grab
The comet's crystal tail.
Hurl it back at the gods
And trek down life’s trail.

It’s the journey that counts
No matter the travail.
Face the jagged bolts
And you’re sure to prevail. 

- Bennie Bell

- copyright - 2013
- lifeslittleverses
- @http://lifeslittleverses.blogspot.com
- all rights reserved

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Squawk Radio

The airwaves are cluttered
With Squawk Radio.
Whether right or the left,
It’s a clown’s rodeo.

All started with Rushbo,
AM’s No. 1 Baby Huey.
If you listen long enough,
Sounds like a bunch of hooey.

He blurts with one hand
Tied behind his back.
But like Baby Huey
He’s just a Big Quack.

Gave rise to like squawkers
All ranting on air,
Spouting their pathos
And paranoid fare.

What is it that’s in us
Makes us tune in?
So uncertain ‘bout life
We crave dose of spin?

There’s much more to life,
It seems very clear,
Than hurting on others
Or playing on fear.

So tune out Squawk Radio,
Go tell Baby Huey
To tie back his tongue,
For he’s a lot of phooey.

- Bennie Bell

- copyright - 2013
- lifeslittleverses
- @http://lifeslittleverses.blogspot.com
- all rights reserved

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Fish Story

We all have a story
‘Bout the one that got away.
Was at least a yard long.
Never a chance to weigh.

Got up close to the boat,
Took a glance at the bow.
Spit the hook in my face
And returned down below.

A fish story is much like
Miles per gallon for your car.
None ever make less than
What the Fed thinks is par.

But what would life be
Without truth being stretched
If only to the degree
It’s not too far-fetched.

- Bennie Bell

- copyright – 2013
- lifeslittleverses
- @http://lifeslittleverses.blogspot.com/
- all rights reserved

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Two Shots Heard About One

About one this morn
Two shots were heard.
Some folks thought
There might been a third.

A body was found
Slumped in a truck.
Witnesses said it was
A drug deal gone amok.

He was such a good boy,
Helped everyone.
Had a great smile.
Was a lot of fun.

Don’t know who would do
Such a thing on our block.
A quiet neighborhood
At around one o’clock.

If you've seen anything,
A person with gun,
The police have asked
That you call 911.

Or call Crime Stoppers,
You’ll remain anonymous,
In case you wondered.

If your tip leads us to
Arrest and indictment
You get five thousand
As our little present.

- Bennie Bell

- copyright – 2012
- lifeslittleverses
- @http://lifeslittleverses.blogspot.com/
- all rights reserved

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Six Brothers Had She

Six brothers had she
In a prior family.
Sister Cyril taught art
At Holy Rosary.

Probably was tomboy
Surrounded by guys.
Knew why young boys
Didn't like wearing ties.

In her 8th grade art class
She noted I would draw.
Had eye for bright color,
Perspective, some flaw.

Taught me the ways
Of oil crayon and chalk,
India ink on bark paper,
Ochre paint, a cake walk.

Time flew off the canvas
In her home room studio.
Let me do what I wanted,
Doo-wap on radio.

I owe one to Cyril,
The advice given me:
"There are no straight lines,
Color has no boundary."

When it came time to leave
And say our good-bye.
I knew that she knew
Big boys never cry.

Sister's colors live on.
Pastels and earth tones
Dance in my head
As friends when alone.

Six brothers had she
In a previous life.
Knew boys became men
If art eased their strife.

     - Benny Bell - 2012

India Inks

- copyright – 2012
- lifeslittleverses
- @http://lifeslittleverses.blogspot.com/
- all rights reserved