jonberger

When you end up calling yourself the Great,
you’ve got a lot to live up to.
Gnaeus Pompeius had pretty big expectations
when he joined the triumvirate with Marcus Crassus and Gaius Iulius Caesar.
Things didn’t work out all that well for him.

He lost some weight when he got beheaded
and he wasn’t quite so great no more.
He had a lot of good years before that, though:
decades of victories,
hoards of fortune,
couple of wives
(sequential though, no hanky panky for the guy),
he did pretty all right for himself.

You couldn’t exactly say it ended up great for him, though.
It was a less than stellar ending for Pompey.
But then, how many endings would you say are great?

I get a whiff of the salted caramel ice cream, and I think of having all I want, not just the limited amounts my body will allow. Ah, to have true control and not be sickened by the foods I love…

I think of the albums that are being threatened to be banned at libraries, but more – the records pushed to the side by the juggernaut market forces like your Beyonces, your Taylors, your Jay-Zs. Would that we were free to choose equally…

I see the social media we have been provided, the wealth of information, and how we have been given so much crap, that it is impossible to find truth within what we see. We are free to sift through the shit indefinitely, to read lie after lie after lie, to read all the hate screeds, to find enemy after enemy. It is a beautiful thing.

I taste the peanut butter. Beautiful peanut butter, in all its variations. Beautiful peanut butter. It may be the death of me. Mmm, peanut butter.

Soft sheets, slightly chilled, as I jump into bed. Oh, it is good to be free of the day.
Good night.

They didn’t tell you how it was going to be.
They never really do.
They tell you how it was
and expect it to be again
but that refrain is never really repeated exactly;
you don’t enter the same river twice.
The lightning bolt will hit a slightly different spot.

Things happened slightly differently.
The variations tell.

I was taken back when she said
she was flarcstatic to see me.
No one had said that to me before
and I was sure how to take it.

I was honored, of course,
but a little unnerved.

I liked her, certainly,
wanted to know her better, absolutely,
but in a flarcal kind of way?

I wasn’t prepared to say that just yet.

Keep avenues open, though,
until you know you want ’em closed.
That’s always the best way to achieve perfect flarcstasy,
my grandfather said once,
then never mentioned again
(I was definitely too ashamed to ask).

Rest assured, I will be following up with that lady
some time soon!

We am the champions, my friend,
and though we be fighting,
we’m winning from the get-go.
It’s just our never-say-no attitude that makes it so;
we always have that winning flow.
We am the champions!

If you need to find winners, just look straight at us.
Winners don’t lose and our gold doesn’t rust.
Get on our trip; you can ride on our bus.
We am the champions, my friend.

The battles are constant, but we just don’t lose.
Looking to team up with aces? Us, choose!
In winning circles, we’re in lots, in lose: fews.
Never decide to be in chumps’ shoes.

Champions am what we are to this day.
That’s basically all that me have to say.
If I have to repeat or threepeat or four-way
just allow me to go on with the same cliches.

We am the champions, my friend.
We fight on and on til the end.
Our victories continue on straight, do not bend.
We am the champions, my friend!

The greatest movie I never saw was probably
The Life Story of Jonathan Berger, starring Jonathan Berger,
as written by Jon Berger,
produced by the Berger Production Group.

The bioflick thrills to the chilling adventures of how
our hero made it to the top of the art game,
as well as becoming an adventure hero
and benevolent cult-leader
slash rock legend,
all in a breezy four and a half hours.

Naturally, the powers that be never let the film come out,
or even exist.
They were too afraid of its threat to the status quo.

But think of it:
imagine if it were made,
how it would go over.

Does the phrase “lead zeppelin” come to mind?

The piles in the apartment are difficult to pass,
this is true,
but they present an intuitive organization structure
that brings about comfort and understanding
and presents an environment like a volcano range
where a giant steps among them.
There is beauty, from that view.

My piles bring me pleasure.
My piles bring me joy.
My piles help me organize my life.
My piles may disturb visitors to my domain
but visitors so often cause me strife.

The piles in the apartment sometimes diminish over time
and get moved to other areas.
They sometimes change in consistency and shape.
The general idea of them tends to remain, however,
and the fundamental structure goes forward.
The arc of the universe bends ever toward the piles,
and I respect that.

To Mark and Partner Number Four
I hope you make it further than any of your
earlier paramours!

I’m optimistic that now you’ve taken this leap
you won’t end up in a sorry weeping heap
of sad recriminations,
horrible frustrations,
And quick arithmatical postnup calculations
hoping you can fix
the wedding pics
with some studio tricks
so you newlyweds look happier than you are.

I hope I’m not going too far when I say
I hope this wedding goes a full three months
(that’d beat Mark’s last one)!

If you do, let me know, and I’ll spring
for a gift certificate for you guys to get a couple’s massage.
I’ll bet you’ll need it by then.

If you knew how I went to sleep,
you wouldn’t be making a peep.
You’d just let me go
to where my bedthrow
gets to show
counting sheep.

Practice
improves surely,
until you finally
write as well as you can pronounce
"cinquain."