My son Will is a college sophomore, and while away at school he accepted an offer from my wife and I to help clean out his room which was half full of empty gatorade bottles, old college mail, long neglected toys, and returned homework. The upside for Will is our plan is to buy him a larger bed, yet we have an alterior motive (two words: guest room).
Today while sorting papers, my wife found the below gem from a class that Will does not recall. The obvious assignment Will was faced with, was to write some poetry in various styles. Reading them brought me tears of laughter and pride, and with Will’s permission, I offer them here for your own poetic pleasure. So, no offense intended to poets or poetry lovers, I offer Will’s homework assignment:
Part 2: My Own Wonderful Words
I Can’t Write Poetry
Poetry is pretty black and white
You can either do it or you can’t.
I’m pretty sure I’m one of those who can’t.
Poetry is garbage; it’s not even tight.
I hate poetry really bad
So I’m gonna go cry to my dad.
One time, I got hit by a train.
The impact caused me severe pain.
I’m pretty sure my leg fell off
And that my lung collapsed, so I coughed.
But I blacked out, I don’t remember.
I’m not sure if I was dismembered.
And when I came to,
I realized I couldn’t move.
There, all messed up on pain pills
I realized, poetry kills.
I Hate Poetry
Cows say, “Moo!”
Pigs say, “Oink!”
Dogs say, “Bark!”
I say, “I hate poetry!”
Poetry Isn’t Fun
Today, I find myself writing a poem
And it has put me in the worst mood ever.
Will I ever need poetry in life? No, never.
So why are we wasting this paper?
Poetry makes me want to kick a puppy
And also to set fire to a forest
The whole poetry system I protest.
I think poetry is more useless then a guppy.
I think the clear purpose of poetry
Is to make kids feel terrible.
And it’s working, I fell like fresh poultry
But another could be to make kids cry
And if that were the true reason for poetry
Then it’s working, I want to die.
Poetry is Diseased
One day, I was writing a poem
And then my mouth started to foam.
I realized that I have rabies
And I had a desire to eat babies.
I went to the nearest hospital
When I found I doctor with a monocle.
He was a very old man
Who told me his name was Dan.
He told me my ailment was caused
By a common virus found in poetry.
Poetry is Pointless
Free verse poetry is kind of pointless.
It has no rhyme, rhythm, or purpose.
So it’s pretty much some random words
Thrown together, like this project.
Free verse poets and I have some common ground
We both have no idea how to write real poetry.
But at least I don’t waste my time.
Someone needs to tell them soon
That poetry is a waste, get a real job.
I’m a bit slow it getting this posted, but I’m glad to have it join my gallery of Father-Daughter Dance photos. The theme this year was ‘New York Glamour’ and it was my 15th Father Daughter Dance over the last 15 years, and I hope that it wasn’t yet my last.
Twenty years ago today, on September 15, 1991, the C-17 Globmaster III made it’s first flight. My father, Bill Casey, was the pilot in command on that flight. Today he is at Edwards Air Force with my mom, to watch that very plane known as T-1 return and be retired from service.
Take a few minutes if you have them to watch this video about that flight, the voiceover at the end is my Dad speaking. When I think of all the servicemen and women who have been delivered and returned in C-17s over the last 20-years, I burst with pride at the important role my father had in the development of this aircraft.
Congrats Dad, the First Flight crew, and to everyone at Douglas Aircraft on this special anniversary!
– Rick Palermo
This limerick by a family friend, captures well my daughter Katie’s online efforts to raise money in support of her plan to study abroad at the University of Limerick in Ireland next year. She has already won a $5,000 scholarship, which combined with existing student loans and her parent’s regular tuition payments will cover the majority of her expenses. But there is a gap in her budget that remains to be closed, and so she has put out a digital tin cup and is asking for your help.
Limerick isn’t just another spot in Ireland for us. It happens to be where our Irish ancestor’s came from. Katie’s GGGG Grandfather Michael Casey worked as a tenant farmer on the Barrington Estate (today’s Glenstal Abbey), and most of his 10 children, including son Michael, emigrated to America and settled in Chicago, Illinois. So Katie won’t just be studying abroad, she’ll be walking in the footsteps of the ancestors who gave her our Casey name.
After looking over a few alternative sites for online fundraising, Katie selected one called smartypig. Gifted funds are held in an FDIC insured, interest bearing account, from which she’ll be able to withdraw them when needed for her study abroad expenses.
Online fundraising such as this is the meat and potatoes of my day job, funding Democratic candidates and progressive causes that I support and am proud to work for. But this is a cause that beats them all, for being one that I support, and that makes me proud. The hardest, but most important part of fundraising is the asking. And so we ask. If you are able and willing to pitch in to help, your support is very much appreciated.