Song titles

Sometimes words don’t mean what they say,

In good songs or in the poem of the day,

There’s metaphors and other tricky stuff,

That’s why I often swallow their bluff,

Take their titles for what they seem to be,

So they become funny, at the very least to me.

Stairway to heaven is about architecture,

A staircase to the sky that will never fracture,

Stretching to the clouds and even beyond,

Funded by someone who is really fond

Of great scenery and endless sights,

And way up there, the starriest nights.

Pink Floyd was quite on the same lines,

Building a brick wall, maybe for vines,

One brick at a time is masonry’s foundation,

A bricklayer’s pride in a bad situation

Won’t be reduced to a pile of rubble,

One brick after another: not a bubble.

Pour some sugar on me, on one hand,

Is sung by someone from Candyland.

Someone with a sweet tooth (or more like a fang).

Whose opinion changed like with a bang,

As he realized breathing sugar is not easy,

After you break a sweat, you’ll feel super sleazy,

And at the onset of the second metric ton,

Shoulders get heavy, now don’t they mon?

I know there’s a meaning deeper than these,

But I enjoyed feeling the lexical breeze.


Screens at night

Computer screens at night don’t sleep.

The IT class full of optical beep.

Flashes of light of many different hue,

Red ones more common than green or blue.

I don’t know why this is done,

Or why they wait till there’s no sun.

Maybe it’s easier to see in the dark,

A bit like talking is better in a park.

Maybe they talk about their hard day,

Of all the users that spat their way.

Someone nice who scrubbed one stain,

For a screen being dirty is like tooth pain.

Or maybe they sing their silent songs,

A melody of color just where it belongs.

Hospital walls

I saw a picture of a hospital room,

White walls and glass and a great, dark gloom.

Nothing but bricks and tiles and metal,

Not a single leaf or a branch or a petal.

I thought of writing a story on the bricks,

Poems or songs or diaries of ticks.

One little poem on all the pasty slabs,

Filling empty space with drawings of crabs.

Not the same color in two adjacent places,

Non-poemized space: draw some funny faces.

It’d give friends and family something more to do,

Than just sympathies and wishes for more health to you.

It’s more fun to laugh at a small tale,

Than talk about how your kidneys are starting to fail.

Plus, if you draw faces, draw them really funny,

Then the laughter comes, and it’s better than honey,

Honey can heal but laughter always will,

Well, of course unless your sense of humor’s ill.