Fritz365 A Year In Poetry

#0 Preface - A Long Delayed Beginning

When I was young, in about the sixth grade at St. Thomas Aquinas school, I found I liked to write. I might have liked it before then, but that's when I decided that it wasn't such a chore.

I'd been a ravenous reader for years though. I don't know when that started. But by the time I was in sixth grade, I was reading all sorts of age-inappropriate stuff. Stephen R. Donaldson's White Gold Wielder series, Tolkien's Lord of the Rings books, things such as those.

I remember having given a shot at reading poetry too. My father had loved Robert Service, and I'd attempted reading some of those, but it wasn't too appealing to me. Not until I was older, anyways.

I didn't do much with my love of writing for many years. It mostly manifested itself with being able to sit down and enjoyably bang out essays, and other written assignments at the absolute last minute for school. I did it with little effort, and no proofreading. Consequently I seldom scored A's with them, but I always passed.

While at East Lansing High School, during my senior year of 1988/1989, I took an interest in writing a silly column for the school paper, entitle Warthog Worries. I did this, mostly, out of jealousy; as one of my friends at the time had started writing something regularly for the paper, and I was offended that I hadn't thought of such a great idea first.

The things I wrote, were silly self deprecating things; often laughingly cynical at their roots, always badly done. They got printed though; and although I knew it was going in the paper, I was still shocked, and a little embarrassed when someone would say something about something I wrote.

I started writing poetry not long after high school. I think I wrote it when I was hanging around my first girlfriend. It's a long story, but the short version, is that I tried several ways to impress her into loving me back, one way of which, was writing sappy awful poems. That they were awful, I have no doubt. I was intending to sound all Shakespearian, and lilty. But it comes off as a child's attempt at love poems. We won't dwell on those.

Around the same time, I started writing other poetry. Things more or less for myself, inspired by things I loved at the time, other than that girl. I wrote one called Tumbleweed Addiction. It was the first poem that I wrote, and rewrote, many times. Changing this, or that, and fixing things that didn't please me. It was a turning point for me. I included it in this year's project, at about the halfway point.

Then I set writing aside, for the most part, only writing sporadically for the next ten to fifteen years. I had lots of thoughts, but I seldom wrote them down. I had this crazy notion in the back of my head to write a story about aircraft mechanics. I still do.

2008 began several years of changes. A job that I loved came to an end, one that I had actually planned on staying at until I retired. My family and I moved across the country, experienced some hardship, then I was laid off from my new job, after only three months. I took a year and a half off of work. This time wasn't terribly productive. But I got a lot of thinking done. It changed my attitude about work, and somewhat of life. It was a time of positive change. When work came around for me again, I was happy to go.

I experienced my first brush with death that winter. Not literally, just as a mental red flag. I got a semi-large kidney stone in my right kidney.

There was a comedian, to totally digress, in the eighties. He had a routine about skydiving. He was talking about a guy who survived falling all the way to the ground with his chute unopened. In describing how the man 'bounced' on the ground; he discussed pain. I'll paraphrase: When you hit the ground like that, you just broke every bone in your body. You just experienced a NEW kind of pain. Then your body bounces off the earth, floats momentarily in midair, while you enjoy your NEW pain. Then gravity slams you down one more time. Your now broken bones puncturing and tearing at your body. You've just now, experienced a NEW, NEW kind of pain.

That kidney stone, was a NEW kind of pain for me. The new worst pain I've ever felt in my life. I felt like an animal, not understanding why it hurt. I couldn't see it, or touch it, but it felt like it was killing me from the inside. The ER gave me a shot of morphine. Bless them for it.

After that, I had some thinking time. I reflected that I'd done almost nothing with the talents that I had been given. When I passed on, I'd leave nothing behind of myself other than my children. While that is a worthy legacy, I wanted to leave some building blocks for humanity as well.

Looking at several things I found on the internets, that series of tubes we love, I plotted a daily poetry project. I reasoned that if Jonathan Coulton can write and produce a song a week for his past project; then I can surely write a poem a day. Of course there are many, many examples of daily, weekly, or monthly projects. Search them out and enjoy, I encourage you.

I have the belief that everything we have today, is built upon the shoulders of those that came before us. And as such, we should supply some building materials for the next generations. One way that I could do that, is by sharing my creativity. I have hopes that someone, somewhere will stumble upon this book, or something else I've written, and use it as inspiration for something truly significant. I don't consider what I have here to be much in and of itself. Alternately amusing and upsetting diversionary poetry, at best.

So here it is; what I did this year. As mentioned above, I did include at least one old poem I'd written in this project. Truth be told, I think there are about 6 others perhaps. So about 358 new poems from 2011.

When I put the blog together, I added it to my existing account on Google Blogger. My internet alias at that time for blogging was Fritz Roeth. A name left over from a time when I played something called Second Life. My other blog, called Warthog Worries, is a more personal affair, dealing with my thoughts on real life, and things that go on.

At some point during the year, I decided to take full ownership of what I was writing. I had a sort of epiphany, telling me that I shouldn’t be ashamed of who I am. And in the end, that is what this poetry is. It is who I am. Good, bad, ugly, pretty, dirty, clean, cruel, kind. I am all of those things, as are we all.

I am both pleased, and horrified at what I've made. I hope that you are as well.

Cheers,

Frederick Damien Robel II

#1 Is One Of Three Hundred And Sixty Five

No matter what I do

Or who I shoo

Away from the poo

They always come back

Can’t be the smell

Must be the personality

Some people are just pieces of shit

And others are attracted to it

Sweep it up

Put it in a bag

Dispose of it

It’s the law you know

Or citations will be handed out

Not hardly at random

I offer this defense

One of offense

A strong middle finger

Or two (just to prove I can still strum a bow)

Arm thrust forward, grasped at the fore

Fuck you

And most that you stand for

#2 Has No Mission No Message

Take it like a man

Every time I look up there

It looks back at me

Winking blinking shimmering shining

Showing me that I am small

Showing me that I matter not at all

Unblinking moribund blandness

Progression never ceasing

Grinding time

Spitting dust

At faster than light speed

Which is impossible

So don’t worry about it

If it’s impossible

It’s not happening

Denial is my favorite river

I tube in it

With a six pack of your tears

You crying little Frenchman

Oh I got buttercups

Buttercups on my fingers

And I’m eatin up!

I’m eatin up them sweets!

Right up to the knuckles

Try typing now, there Stumpy

#3 May Be About Monsterbation

Sharpening my knives

Reloading my shells

Feeding my bunnies

This is an all request show

Polishing my tools

It’s the only use they get

In these days of inspection

I have to act like I know more than I know

Rubbing it out!

It’s the way you do it

Rubbing it out!

Not as good as screwing it

But it’s better than none

#4 Civet Dry Roast Ad Copy

Eating it up

It’s what the Civet do

Eating it up

And passing it through

It’s a rare find

When they do their Civet doo

You can charge top dollar

If you separate the bean from the poo

Pick poke and clean

Rinse dry and toast

It goes down so damn smooth

That Civet cat poo dry roast!

#5 Is Five!!!!

I kill me

I kill me with kindness

I kill me with blandness

Must be allergic to vanilla

A spiceless version of me

I want you to notice

When I come around

Yet I hide in my hoodie

Unwilling to make a sound

I try to meet your eyes

Without looking your way

My heart aches, but my body lies

My wistful feelings

Blow like the mist they are made of

Hazing my vision, leaving me to die

I’m twisting in the wind here!

No reason to get excited though

My grip be firm

My determination…..determined

The fingers fly in the

The fly fingers the flypaper

Papered the fly

With hostile messages

On off white card stock

And killed a few trees

And me

Almost forgot

With a bullet

With a cancer

With a virus

With a vengeance!

#6 Is Slightly Blasphemous!

Buddha rubs his belly

Yahweh strokes his beard

The Flying Spaghetti Monster drops acid

And acts just plain weird

Of all the gods I could latch on to

Of all the gods I could make idols to

Of all the gods I could make sweet love to

I had to pick Nanor the Fussed!

Allah hides his eyes

L. Ron Hubbard likes to sit and think

The Invisible Pink Unicorn

Has faith that it is pink

Of all the gods I could run to

Of all the gods I could pray to

Of all the gods I could sacrifice my son to

I had to pick Nanor the Fussed!

#7 Is Finding Hey Soos

I’m just a puppet

My strings are pulled

By those around me

Strings are attached everywhere

My heart

My brain

Most parts actually

When a string is pulled

The tendency is to jump

Whichever way is easiest

Sometimes easy isn’t the answer

Sometimes NOT jumping when the string is tugged

Is the only way to

Your own

Personal

Jesus

#8 Wishes It Was Infinity

We’ve got big heads

And high hopes

Ain’t nothing gonna hold us back

Or keep us on the ropes

Check us out

Singin’ in the rain

It’s the only thing we can do

Since we busted the water main

I’m a boat I’m a plane

I’m a goat!

I’m insane

Pull my zip I’ll run for hours

I wish I was a teacup

I’d fill me

With a li’l tea

I’m a teacup: me

Along those lines

I love to stir my coffee with a fork

It swirls amongst the tines

Makes me smile

What a dork

#9 Is Just Not That Interested

Judge me

Lest ye be judged

I will not be fudged

I’m not that interested

Op Ed on the fifth Page

It draws my rage

I’m not that interested

It might seem like a bit much

To roll in the touch

I’m not that interested

You see my problem in this

I want your kiss

I’m not that interested

It’s a remake in the making

You’ll love my baking

I’m not that interested

You getting the point yet?

Or is it tough for you to get?

I’m not that interested

Buy my love

Or give me a shove

I’m not that interested

There was a time that I’d have paid

For a second look let alone get laid

I’m not that interested

I’ve grown up

I’ve thrown up

I’m not that interested

#10 Lives In The Crotch Of The Mitten

On the shores of Saginaw Bay

Gravelly Shoals blinks steady

Where as a child I did play

The air fresh and heady

The perch they sang nightly

Of depths and darkness deep

As they swam by my dock

Voices mild and meek

Small stones underfoot

Treasures to be found

Seaglass here petoskey there

Eyes focused on the ground

Wind from the South

Meant Mighty waves crashing

On the shoreline always changing

Sands shifting from the water’s smashing

The baby trees planted by grandpa

Are almost all gone now

Time and the axe

Giving them their final bow

Springtime meant opening things up

Summer meant fun growing up

The fall was time to shutter

And winter was no time at all

Softly white and secret

Not a soul in sight

My fire crackled brightly

As the ice sang a saw bow song

It’s where I first left home

It’s where I fell in love with my wife

There’s no place I’d rather roam

For the rest of my life

#11 Hides a Death Pony

Death Pony

Stares it’s wicked stare

While chewing evil carrots

I try not to care

Hard not to though

As the Death Pony sidles closer

For a better look at what I’m doing

It suspects me of something

So I turn away

Tell it to get out of my space

It just stares it’s creepy Death Pony stare

And gives me the willies

I move away a few steps

And Death Pony follows

Wait

Didn’t I tie him up?

I’m puzzled

But feeling scared now

I move at a brisk walk

To put some distance between us

Death Pony walks quicker too

He nips at my back, wanting me to stop

I yell at him to get away!

And break into a run

Death Pony starts to trot

I’m in trouble now

Knew I should have went armed

This Death Pony is not to be trusted

It dislikes bad poetry

And it will make me pay

I don’t think I’m going to get away

So I’ll press ‘send’ now

And hope he’ll lose interest

Once he sees it’s too late

OMG, Death Pony has ahold of my ankle!

If I can just

Press

The

Button…..

#12 Does Not Match

My suspenders just don’t match my underpants

And what shall I ever do about the plaid overpants?

My fashion decisions

Are fashion disasters

My tie-dye totally goes with my plaid

Don’t tell me any different

And jeans go with everything

Except bed

Garanimals for adults would be the answer here

But that would be admitting too much

Sort of like admitting that I’m lost

I just don’t do that

So I stumble ever onward

My underwear outside my pants

My shirt on backwards

My color pallet ghastly

I’m easy to spot though

So sue me

#13 Seems To Be Unlucky

Is today unlucky?

That bunny I ran over this morning

Would tend to think so

Although it can donate it’s lucky feet now

So it’s not all bad eh?

Lucky days

Lucky nights

One draws sunny pictures

The other; adult dioramas

Involving latex and chrome

Not that I’m an aficionado

I know what a gimp suit is

Because I’ve seen that movie

Wait what was I talking about?

Oh yeah, Luck

Lucky plucky ucky ducky

Swims in his soiled pond

You know

The kind that squishes

So awfully when you put your foot down

But ducky thinks it’s pretty awesome

Unlucky

Sad and sullen sloth

So cute with it’s long curved claws

I’d kiss it except for the rabies

But I digress

From the Luck

It needs that rabbit’s foot

#14 Eats Until It Bursts

Little cinnamon circles

Ready to blow your mind

Awesome sugary goodness

Of the melty kind

Tamo’s Cinnamon Bunhouse

Is the place to look for these

So come on down today

They’ll make you weak in the knees!

Today only: $5.99/dozen

I couldn’t stop eating them!!

-1st grader Sam Weiss

#15 Buys The Hedgehog Farm

What they say is what they want

And what they want is me

Glorious

Whorious

Me

Give me lemons

And I’ll make a mess

Glorious

Messmakerasaurus

Me

My arms

They aren’t the same length at all

I can’t seem to open doors right

But I’m hell in a brawl

Custom sweaters are not an issue

A snip snip here

A stretch stretch there

And viola!

It’s custom made for me!

I have a hedgehog that lives in the crook of my arm

He’s my friend

My confidant

And full of charm

I love him

But I think he only stays to be warm

Unless he’s on holiday

To his hedgehog farm

My hair is a fright

I have to cut it every night

It grows and it grows

And gets tangled in my clothes

I sell it to wigmakers

Every bald person has one on my street

Some think it’s neat

But I repeat:

It’s not

So in this celebration of me

Beautiful me

Step into my mind

I don’t mind

Come and see

The ticking and tocking of the mechanism of me

The cogs clack a singsong to my thoughts

It’s really a cacophy of fun

Come and play?

Oh and please stay

Today

Yay!

#16 Wants To Marry You

The sunshine and the birds and trees

Don’t make up for the turds and the bees

They stain and stink me

Sting and hurt me

On the fun day

The first day

Of the summertime

The one time

That I ask for love

All you can offer me

Are friendly tight hugs

On the last day

Of the first year

Since I met you

The next time that I see your face

It better be next to mine at my place

‘Cause I want this to be special

I even got roses for you

On this day

The best day

Of my life

So now we’re together

Bound by boundless love

What comes next

My plans played out

It’s an I do day

A first dance day

It’s our life

#17 Is Nervous About The Possessive Squirrels

Hey

It’s me

Just hanging around our tree

The one with our names on it

With the big heart around

Thinking of you

And of me

There’s just no way to tell

Just what is gonna make me yell

No sense to it

No direction to it

It goes it’s own way eventually

So when the critters come home

And see me around their tree

There just might be hell to pay

Because squirrels don’t like to share

I just might eat their acorns up

And lie around in their little leaf beds

One that’s too hard

And one that’s too soft

And one that’s just right for me

I think they just might gnaw on me

For being around their tree

Even though our names are on it

They can’t read so it doesn’t matter

But I know this

I can’t wait forever

It’s now or never

The squirrels will just chase me away

But I’ll be back the very next day

For you

#18 Is In Need Of Rescue

Rescue me

I need to be saved from myself

I’m a mess

A ticking time bomb

Whatever makes me tick

It’s ticking down

Rescue me

From the rising waters

I thought I could swim

But this is thick as molasses

Or maybe it’s just me

With sludge on my glasses

Rescue me

From my heavy heavy heart

It’s dragging me down

Like an almost liquid fart

I don’t have a change of underwear

I am doomed

Rescue me

From the angry woolly sheep

I thought they’d be so comfy

But they didn’t like it much

When I tried to fluff them like pillows

Rescue me

From strangers around me

They mill around

And want me to talk to them

But I just want to stand in the corner

Nursing my drink

Rescue me

From you

You occupy my thoughts

Like nothing should

Is it habit or obsession

Lawdy lawdy

Rescue me

#19 Can’t Remember Who It Is

I’m at a loss

I forgot to floss

And nothing comes to mind

My thoughts are simply hard to find

My my my aren’t we precocious

Thinking that we even have thoughts

Supercala – whatever – docious

All that’s in there are jingles and rhymes

Worthless data waiting to be expunged

I search for something useful

A face here, a name there

But never the right ones

Bob is Fred

Bryan is Steve

You will be whomever I need

Getting old is a bitch

#20 Thinks The End Times Are Near!

It’s the first phase

Of the last days

The fun days

Of the final days

Birds are falling from the skies

The fish are floating too

Whales are a’beachin’

Seals and penguins want to die too

It’s the first phase

Of the last days

The fun daze

Of the new craze

Whatever shall I do

When the bad comes here too

I’ll just make a last hurrah

For me and for you

We’ll load up all the pickup trucks

And fill them full of booze

The we know we’ll live forever

Or at least our pickled bodies will!

It’s the first phase

Of the last days

The blue haze

From a huge blaze

As four horsemen ride around

In circles till they puke

The seventh seal will break open

As our last rebuke

But I won’t really care

As I’ll be in my underwear

Drinking all my booze

And partying with you!

#21 Plays House

Creatively creating

It’s Kindergarten activity time

My pencil’s dull teacher!

Just listen to me whine

I remember the time

The time I peed my pants

Because I was on the tricycle

One of TWO tricycles

If only I’d known in advance

That was the time

My daddy came to get me

On his motorcycle that day

It was the first time, and last

Because I peed my pants today

Then there was the time

Peggy cut her