I love dad jokes. You know those silly little jokes that go something like:
Why did the rooster go to the doctor? He had the cockle-doodle—–flu!
Why did the farmer get a daschund? Someone told him to—-get-a-long-little-doggie!
What did the volcano say to the other volcano? Stop erupting me.
What’s green and sings? Elvis Parsley. I could go on.
It is just past Valentine’s Day, and although I believe every poem is a love poem, I am thinking about love-sweet-love and M–
You Swept Me off My Feet
A rabbi, a priest, and a skydiver walk into a bar,
but we meet in the dorms over a lost sock.
Some people spend time knock, knocking
in search of the setup and elusive punch line,
but you have always been here, the prize
behind curtain one, no zonk, no gong, no gag.
You’re like the janitor with the broom,
(you swept me off my feet),
you’re the reason the chicken crossed
the road, the answer to the question:
What do you get when you cross two people–
just like us?
For March 5, A Year with Rumi: Daily Readings offers:
There is a strange frenzy in my head,
of birds flying,
each particle circulating on its own.
Is the one I love everywhere?
The entry, in the A Year with Rumi: Daily Readings, for my birthday is another love poem featuring a legion of birds.
“I feel these days like a very large flamingo. No matter what way I turn, there is always a very large bill.”
What is the metaphor driving your daily love poem?