geek fun

I just created a 24-slide presentation on Control Charts – not even how to create them, just how to read them. The really geeky part is how much fun I had doing it.

And speaking of things I’ve had fun creating, I’ve been posting a lot less poetry here because I’m trying to get better about submitting some of these. But here are two I had a lot of fun with

Toad opera and ballads of the spaceways! (cut for length).

Bwahahahaha*CROAK*

Lester never came back.
And Freddie never came back.
Tod came back
with harrowing stories
(get it? toad? harrow?)
of chancy escapes
from huge
smelly
LOUD
vehicles driven by blind humans.

Why don’t they ever look out for us?

One day it was a big truck
that almost got him,
the next day, a low red sportscar.
I never believed him completely
(and how could he tell it was red, anyway?
we can’t see color)

but we all knew it was dangerous
out there. Still, when it was our time,
we had to go. Biological clocks
mean a lot, when you’re a toad.

Then it was my time –
you just know you gotta go –
I hopped to the edge of the road
all nervous-like
just as I was about to take the final hop
onto its cold dark surface
WHAM!
a giant truck spun by,
its wake knocking me ass over flippers
and then I had my
GENIUS EPIPHANY:

If they didn’t look for me…
I
  could
     look
          for them!

I looked both ways
waited ’til there were
no cars
and scooted across that street
then
followed my biological imperative
all over that pond,

counting tadpoles all the way home
and not forgetting to check for cars
again
(because it would really suck
to go splatter-iffic
on the return).

All that summer long
and all winter, I gloated.
Toads live a long time:
every year more of my cohort
would fail to perpetuate
their toadlihood.
By the time I died
I could see my spawn triumphant:
king of these woods.

This year, when the peeping started
I waited my turn –
waiting to see
how many wouldn’t return….
but Larry came back
…and Eddie came back
……and T-man came back.
Befuddled but determined
when the call came,
I went to the road,
looked both ways –
saw no cars.
Waited a beat –
saw no cars.

Just then old Ronald
hopped by:
“Didn’t you hear,”
he croaked,
“they closed this road for us?”

You can’t
hit your head
on the wall
where there are
no walls.

So much for plans
of genetic dominion.

A Broken-Token Ballad for the 23rd Century

She swept out the veranda –
She liked to keep things clean.
The quiet house behind her spoke
of things she’d never seen –
tokens from Arcturus,
threedees from Altair –
and the portrait of a young man,
a handsome spaceman
sat in the place of honor
above her favorite chair.

A man came up the lonely road.
He asked the way to town
and where he might find bed and board
before the sun went down.
“You’ll never get to town tonight;
The wolves are bad these days,
but you can have my spare room
if you want it –
I see so few new faces
in such a quiet place.

She drew a glass of water
And showed him to his room,
Then fed him stew and dumplings.
In sunset’s tawny gloom.
They settle down to talk a while;
he asked about her life
and why she lived there lonely
all alone there,
and whether she had ever
been somebody’s wife.

“I’ve lived alone for fifty years
since Dad and Mother died.
The folks here never knew why
I’ve never been a bride,
or gone out to a spaceport
as my best friend bid
enlisted on a freighter
one way freighter –
and lived along the spaceways
as my sisters did.

“But somehow, since you’re asking,
I feel the time has come
to tell why all these long years
I’ve lived here on my own:
for seventy years I’ve stayed here
a-waiting his return
for once I loved a spacer,
a wild young spacer –
he promised he’d come find me
before the year had turned.

“But if the trip went badly
and kept us long apart
he swore he’d still come find me:
he’d hold me in his heart
until the day he came back
to take me as his wife
and then we’d take the spaceways
the far-flung spaceways
we’d seek out new adventure
and live a wandering life.”

“But in the long and lonely years,
why did you never go,
to find another lover
or travel on your own?
What if your lover’s left you
or what if he has died?
You could have found a sweetheart
a new sweetheart
another man to love you
and live your life beside.”

“I could have found another
a man who’d take my part
but he’d not be my lover
the one who holds my heart.
No other could replace him
or win my love away-
still I wait here, hoping
ever hoping,
so I live believing,
that still, he’ll find a way.

“How would you know him if he came
after all these years?
How could you still know the face
that once you held so dear?”
The night before he left me
and swore that he’d be true,
he asked me for a token
a love token
and promised that he’d have it
when he returned to woo.”

“And was it a fresh flower
you once wore in your hair
or was it but the ribbon
that bound your waist so fair?”
“Oh, no, it was no blossom
to crumble into sand
nor was it a ribbon
a fragile ribbon
I gave to him the golden ring
I wore on my right hand.”

Then slowly he drew up the cord
that hung down on his chest
and slowly showed the golden ring
he’d worn upon his breast.
I’ve traveled far for lightyears
at relativistic speed
but I am your own lover,
your true lover
and I’ve come home to wed you
as long ago agreed.

She swooned and fell down in her chair,
as pale as if in death
she held a hand up to her heart
and struggled for her breath.
Then she burst out weeping
and said “We cannot wed,
for I am an old woman,
a dying woman –
how could you ever marry
or take me to your bed?”

He took her hand so gently,
And smiled into her eyes,
“With this gold ring I’ll wed you
For time is only lies.
I’ve brought you gauds and fairings
and treasure still more fair:
I’ve brought to you a Rejuv,
your own Rejuv
And young and hale together,
We’ll venture far out there…..

(I hear this one in my head with the tune Phil Ochs put to “The Highwayman”.)