Category poem

Oct 30 2013

Beating a Dead Horse

Beating a Dead Horse

Artwork by Melissa Stevens @ http://www.theillustratedauthor.net.

“Beating a Dead Horse” is the follow-up to the original poem of clichés, “Once Upon a Time.”

Out of the gate, the detective was bored out of his mind.

Not a single person was even horsing around.

He couldn’t hold his horses for a case to work on.

It was a one-horse town, but it wasn’t his horse.

Then a damsel in distress strolled into his office.

She was a bombshell; a perfect ten; out of his league.

He was a silly goose to be daydreaming about her.

What chance did a loser like him have with a girl like her?

So he picked his eyeballs off the floor and stuttered like glue.

Turns out her horse had been murdered in the dead of winter.

Even worse, she caught someone beating the dead horse.

It was a knight in shining armor beating the poor beast like a drum.

A knight living in 2013? Sounded like an open and shut case.

It would have been a challenge if the knight had had some horse sense.

What kind of fool would linger at the scene of the crime like that?

He told the damsel that he would take care of the matter.

The next morning he went to see the horse with his own eyes.

It was an absolute nightmare; the horse was literally black and blue.

Now that was a horse of a different color.

Her story fit: The horse had been struck by the broad end of a sword.

The detective went to the station to call in a favor.

They gave him the address to the only castle within a hundred miles.

Sure enough, he found the culprit just where he thought he would be.

The detective asked the knight to confess to his sins.

He had no doubt, but wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.

But it was no use: The knight wouldn’t say a word.

It was like putting the cart before the horse, without first having proof.

So the detective went outside to dig up the buried hatchet.

Of course, it was a sword, not a hatchet, but you get the idea.

The sword had the knight’s fingerprints all over it.

However, the knight still denied it. He pleaded innocent.

Well, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.

There was one thing the detective needed to make his case: Motive.

What he had was only close enough for horseshoes and hand grenades.

The detective pried into the knight’s life like a crowbar.

Turns out that the knight was up to his ears in debt.

He had been sued for food that turned out to be horse meat.

So the knight had bet all of his money on a long shot.

He was hoping it would be a dark horse that would make his day.

But the damsel’s horse edged it out by a nose.

The knight begged the damsel for mercy.

He lost his cool when the damsel got on her high horse.

That’s when the knight plotted his revenge.

The knight showed up at her house with a box of chocolates.

She had been hungry enough to eat a horse.

So she looked the gift horse straight in the mouth.

That candy had a sedative that knocked her out like a light.

The knight slipped into the stable to do his dirty work.

But he was too late: The horse was already stone dead.

The horse’s heart just couldn’t take it anymore.

The knight couldn’t even do a simple thing like kill a horse.

So he took his frustrations out on the poor horse’s corpse.

The case was solved; it was a done deal; finis.

He reported his findings to the damsel. She was impressed.

What the heck? He got up the courage to ask her out.

The worst she could do was crush his heart like a bug.

Yet that didn’t happen: She took him up on his offer.

They got married and lived happily ever after.

He never could figure out what she saw in him.

Not that he minded one little bit.

He would have given an arm and a leg to be with her.

And that’s exactly what she saw in him: chivalry.

In the end, it didn’t take armor to be a knight.

Click here to see the original poem of clichés, “Once Upon a Time.”

Copyright © 2013 Chris McMullen. Educators and parents may use this poem for free for non-commercial, instructional purposes.

Oct 26 2013

Do You Remember?

Do you remember:

Seemingly infinite energy to play?

Curiosity for life’s simplest wonders?

Learning several new things every day?

Running free with no destination in mind?

Experimenting with each part of your body?

Hearing and trying out new words all the time?

Years without worries? Having fun for fun’s sake?

 

What would your former self say to you today?

 

Copyright 2013 © Chris McMullen

Oct 23 2013

more, More, MORE; will it ever be enough?

More Pic

 

You start out with some sales.

So happy to sell your first book.

Something to show for your hard work.

 

Then you realize it’s not like you dreamed.

You had fantasized about a bestseller.

Now that seems ridiculously far-fetched.

 

Maybe it’s your cover. Could it be the blurb?

Or does it need an edit? What’s the problem?

See if some revisions will do the trick.

 

You’re excited when sales improve.

Until you realize it wasn’t all that much.

Your dreams remain a long way off.

 

Aha! Marketing must be the answer.

You scour the internet for information,

Learning everything you possibly can.

 

Sales improve after trying these ideas out.

That must have been the key.

Except that it’s still not enough.

 

Then you get a new idea. Write another book.

The sales will feed off each other.

Why hadn’t you thought of this before?

 

Your new book helps. As does the next.

Pretty soon you have several books out.

Sales are so much better now.

 

But it still isn’t enough. You want more.

You crave it. You can taste it. You need it.

Why? You don’t know. You just do.

 

Afterword:

 

I think it’s important to compare yourself to your former self (and not just in terms of numbers).

Don’t worry about how many books other authors are selling.

Some books rarely sell, some sell like hot cakes.

Trying to grow your numbers is a good goal to strive for, as long as you don’t go overboard.

As you learn more and gain experience, and as you have more books out, this should help your numbers grow.

Improvement will give you a temporary euphoria.

Then you get accustomed to it and expect better.

When the numbers drop, as they surely will, you’ll feel depressed.

Sales fluctuate. It’s a fact of life. Strive for long-term growth. Try to ignore short-term drops.

There are seasonal and many other effects, which guarantee some drops.

Try not to let your sales dictate your happiness. Otherwise, you’ll be unhappy much of the time.

Try not to fall into the MORE trap, which doesn’t just plague book sales, but plagues many aspects of life, such as finances.

More can’t really make you happy. You seem happy about it at first. But you can’t always get more. Do you want to be unhappy all those times that you can’t have more?

But more can be a healthy goal, in moderation.

You can use this goal to strive for improvement, and to stay motivated.

Just try not to let it consume you. Then more becomes a huge problem.

Remember, you can measure “more” in other ways besides numbers—better quality, for example.

The last things you want to do are lose your passion for your hobby, forget your roots, or feel like you sold out… all to get more, More, MORE.

If you focus on more, it will never be enough.

 

Chris McMullen, author of A Detailed Guide to Self-Publishing with Amazon and Other Online Booksellers, Vol. 1 (formatting/publishing) and Vol. 2 (packaging/marketing)

Oct 12 2013

A Special Gift

Present

It takes a special gift to…

…look inside and see the real person.

…avoid jumping to false conclusions.

…cause people to set aside their differences.

…enjoy the journey when forced to take a detour.

…get people to see beyond their prejudices.

…genuinely care about others.

…listen to your conscience under strong temptations.

…value other things more than money.

…admit that you made a mistake.

…confess to something that would meet disapproval.

…stand up for what you believe in.

…support someone in need against greater numbers.

…step aside when your effort would be wasted.

…judge people for the right reasons.

…act responsibly.

…ignore peer pressure.

…serve as a friend for someone who can use one.

…not offer unsolicited advice.

…count your blessings in tough times.

…help make the world a better place.

…appreciate the small things in life.

…make other people feel better.

…secretly do something noble for someone else.

…show open-mindedness toward others.

…realize that you’re not perfect either.

…believe that you’re special and worthy.

…follow your own advice.

…stay positive in tough situations.

…see good in others when it isn’t obvious.

…feel happy when things don’t go your way.

…remain calm throughout life’s challenges.

…be yourself.

…forgive others.

…do what your heart feels is the right thing.

…strive for your best and also be humble.

…realize that you can’t do everything and choose wisely.

 

These are gifts that anyone can acquire,

And gifts that can do wonders for the world.

 

Copyright (c) 2013 Chris McMullen

 

You know what else would make a special gift? The gift of reading. Literacy is another gift that can do wonders for the world.

 

Read Tuesday will be a golden opportunity to give the gift of reading in a Black Friday type of sales event just for books.

 

www.ReadTuesday.com

 

It’s going to be HUGE!

Oct 11 2013

ac c e l e r a t e

Accelerate

fastfastfastfastfastfastfastfast

sofastbutnoacceleration

s     l     o     w     s     l     o     w

z e r o a c c e l e r a t i o n

 

sp e  e   d    i     n      g       u        p

ac c  e   l    e     r      a       t        i         n          g

s         l        o       w      i     n    g    d  o wn

d          e         c        e       l      e     r    a   t  i ng

 

changing

d

i

r

e

c

t

i

o

n

that’s

a

c

c

e

l

e

r

a

t

i

o

n

too

 

cha n g ing s p eed

changing

d

i

r

e

c

t

i

o

n

cha n g ing v e loc i t y

mak e s acc e l era t i  on

 

I truly enjoy Helen Valentina’s poetry. Occasionally, her poems feature a little math or physics. This inspired me to see if I can make a little “physetry” or “poemath.”

Copyright (c) 2013 Chris McMullen

Oct 11 2013

Apples to Oranges

Who says you can’t compare apples to oranges?

(If they were identical, then you couldn’t compare them.)

They both grow on trees.

(Different kinds of trees. So what?)

You find seeds in the core of both.

(What does it matter that one is juicier?)

Each is roughly the size of a fist.

(So color is different; it is taste that counts.)

Both are sort of round.

(Do you get bonus points for being more round?)

They each make healthy snacks.

(Are apples healthier by keeping doctors away?)

 

If you eat an apple, is it okay to say that it

…is crispier…

…comes in more colors…

…has a tastier peel…

than an orange?

Or is it wrong to complain that it

…can’t be peeled with your fingers…

…gets stuck in your teeth…

…appears bruised through oxidation…

not like an orange?

 

If you eat an orange, what’s wrong with stating that it

…is juicier…

…tastes sweeter….

…feels softer…

than an apple?

Or is there harm in saying that it

…tasted too sour…

…makes a bigger mess…

…causes acid problems for your tummy…

unlike an apple?

 

And if you eat a really juicy apple…

…can you only say it’s juicier than other apples?

…or is it okay to see how juicy it is compared to an orange?

 

Copyright (c) 2013 Chris McMullen

If you haven’t already heard about Read Tuesday, you should check it out.

It’s going to be HUGE!

Give the gift of reading this holiday season.

Oct 8 2013

Look into my Eyes

Eyes Pic

Look into my eyes.

They can hypnotize,

Make you fantasize,

You will be my prize.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

I will mesmerize,

See through your disguise,

Tell if you are wise.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

You’ll believe my lies,

You won’t realize,

I’ll be your demise.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

My look will chastise,

Cut you down to size,

Force your silent cries.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

Let me energize,

Make your spirit rise,

Lift you to the skies.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

I’ll antagonize,

Even terrorize,

To both girls and guys.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

My pair will be spies,

You I will surmise,

I’ll check out your thighs.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

Forget that time flies,

Stay here till sunrise,

Waste not all my tries.

▪ ▪

Look into my eyes.

Copyright (c) 2013 Chris McMullen

Sep 25 2013

Numbers Poem (Counting to Ten)

Numbers Poem Pic

Zero is the hero; he saved us all.

One is fun; she always has a ball.

Two is new; he was born yesterday.

Three is free; she loves to play.

Four is a bore; he doesn’t like to talk.

Five is alive; she enjoys a good walk.

Six is in a fix; he doesn’t know what to do.

Seven is in Heaven; she never has the flu.

Eight is great; he often lends a hand.

Nine is divine; she sings in a band.

But it’s ten who is going to win.

Copyright (c) 2013 Chris McMullen

Should any educator wish to use this poem, “Numbers Poem (Counting to Ten),” for non-commercial, instructional purposes, it may be used freely for this purpose. (You’re welcome to replace the words “Heaven” and “divine” with other words in case these do not suit your needs or preferences.)

Sep 23 2013

Moody Sales

Moody PicAh, the beginning of the month;

Such a pleasant time for sales.

You can hear the buzz of customers

And the chirruping of registers.

 

Nothing tops the rush hour,

When sales are just ecstatic.

The lines are seemingly endless,

The products quickly vanish.

 

But then it slows down so much;

Sales shed tears from their sadness.

Where did everybody go?

Why have you all abandoned us?

 

Sales always wonder if the end has come

During extensive periods of loneliness.

Is that the end of life as they know it?

Will they never feel energized again?

 

When sales rebound, they jump for joy;

Happier than ever, they smile quite broadly.

They knew the buyers would return.

The experience is so rejuvenating.

 

Then that time of the month comes;

Inevitable, yet sales dread it so.

Those few days where sales are dismal.

You can count on it like clockwork.

 

Copyright (c) 2013 Chris McMullen

Sep 20 2013

Home of Phones Homophones

Home of Phone Pic

My dog wags it tail when I tell this tale.

No man can know more about fish than you.

My dear, you love fishing more than hunting deer.

You’re the master of your trade.

So you enter a contest, but not to sew.

It’s for fishing, of course, and begins at four.

You don’t know what to do because it’s only two.

It’s not enough time to stay in an inn.

Right then you get the idea to write.

You list in red ink every book you’ve ever read.

Soon the time has passed. It’s half past three.

You reached the blue sea just before the horn blew.

With spirits high, you say, “Hi.”

You agree to play fair. Let’s see how you fare.

If you break the rules, you’ll find that you’re fined.

They count to ten and bang on the tin.

It’s time to see if you can find a big fish in the sea.

You set sail with a boat that you bought at a sale.

Where you go you wear your very best gear.

You use an ant for bait that you got from your aunt.

Your main advantage is your lucky horse’s mane,

Hare’s foot, and magic mermaid hair.

We shall pray for your prey.

The poor fish would rather be stung by a bee.

You caught your fish while napping in a cot.

Even though I’m here, I don’t believe what I hear.

However, I did see it with my eye.

Then you pick it up with your feet. What a feat!

Go this way to the scale. It’s time to weigh the fish.

They’re measuring their prizes over there.

Now we wait to discover the weight.

When will we find out if you win?

Your son is watching anxiously in the sun.

His stomach is in a knot, but yours is not.

You’re the one who has won the prize.

They write your name with a pen on a pin.

They mail it to you by a postman who is male.

You’re our hero of the hour.

Let’s cook the poor fish and pour water on your pores.

Fry the fish in flour. Decorate it with a flower.

It’s time to spice it up by adding some thyme.

When you add a beet, the flavor can’t be beat.

Everyone knows the smell delights your nose.

We wipe our bare feet on your bear rug.

We meet at the table to eat the meat.

The maid has the table nicely made.

Just after we ate the clock struck eight.

Thanks for stopping by. It’s time to say, “Bye.”

 

Copyright (c) 2013 Chris McMullen

Should any educator wish to use the above edition of this poem, “Home of Phone Homophones,” for non-commercial, instructional purposes, it may be used freely for this purpose.