Retro

Bring your typewriter when you move in.

I still have my old VCR.

I have a cassette deck in the house

and an eight track in the car.

I'm glad that you don't judge me

or consider me a dinosaur

just because my home computer

is a 1982 model Commodore 64.

I may be getting old but I can still

fit into my bellbottom jeans.

I have a swag lamp in my living room.

My stove and fridge are avocado green.

After dinner we can settle back

and enjoy some instant powdered tea

as we watch the programs from our youth

on my RCA XL 100 console TV.

We can sleep in my water bed

and bathe in my claw-footed tub.

I still have all the albums I got

from the Columbia Record Club.

We can listen to mix tapes we made

of all our favorite songs

as we sit together on the floor

and play endless games of Pong. - Jeff Barnes

Over the Top

You're the cream cheese on my everything bagel,

the maple syrup on my fresh from the toaster waffle,

and I feel I must warn you that this poem

is going to get immeasurably more awful.

You're the amaretto flavored creamer in my coffee,

the no calorie sweetener made with saccharin in my tea,

the marshmallows in my bowl of Lucky Charms cereal,

the vanilla ice cream in my cherries jubilee.

You are a warm blanket on a winter night

and this is going to sound even more sappy:

you are a beautiful, mild and temperate day

after three straight weeks when the weather has been crappy.

You are a memory foam mattress for my bed,

an ottoman for my favorite comfy chair,

the feel of a thick shag carpet under my bare feet

unless I step on a sharp tack that I didn't know was there.

You are the feeling of rest and rejuvenation

after a much-needed afternoon snooze,

or a comforting Chinese foot massage

after a five-mile walk in extremely tight-fitting shoes.

You are like going to a Picasso exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art

after I've seen nothing but inept, amateurish doodles,

or like a seven course gourmet meal cooked by a Cordon Bleu chef

after I've had a steady diet of nothing but ramen noodles.

I know sometimes my words spew like lava from an erupting volcano

and it probably would be best if I'd learn to be more terse.

I'll just say you're supreme, you're the best, you are nonpareil 

and conclude this godawful poem before it gets any worse. - Jeff Barnes

The Voyage

When she came in through the bathroom window

I snuck out through the back door.

I came across Doctor Robert and a walrus

who were standing on the cast iron shore.

When the Doctor spotted me he said,

"Hail and well met, old fellow!

I just bought a magic submarine

and had it painted yellow!"

He invited me to come along

on his voyage and I asked, "Where?"

"I'm not actually certain," he said,

"Perhaps we'll know when we get there."

"Count me in!" I said as we climbed aboard

and soon we were in motion.

We descended below the waves

and entered a hole in the ocean.

I don't remember how long it's been

since that day when we  departed.

We are sailing across the universe.

This territory is uncharted.

The journey is what's important.

It doesn't matter where we're going.

Perhaps I'll send you a postcard

from a place beyond all knowing. - Jeff Barnes

The Good Dr. Seuss

My first favorite poet

was Dr. Seuss.

He was fast and loose

with his rhymes

most of the time

whether he wrote about

a cat in a hat

or a big-hearted moose.

He was never abstruse

or obtuse

though he often seemed

sillier than a goose.

I once heard someone say

that he only wrote nonsense

but I thought she was dense

to give such offense

hence

I write this poem

in his defense

at the expense

of her pretense.

Perhaps she was chartreuse

with envy that she

could not produce

a body of work so profuse

or diffuse

as that of the

good Dr. Seuss! - Jeff Barnes

Theft?

You accuse me of stealing her from you.

She wants me to ask you how

you can liken the winning of a heart

to the rustling of a cow. - Jeff Barnes

The Mockingbird in My Head

A mockingbird lives in my head.

All day and night he loves to cheep.

I get no rest when I'm in bed.

A mockingbird lives in my head.

Wish it were a budgie instead.

Then maybe I could get some sleep.

A mockingbird lives in my head.

All day and night he loves to cheep. - Jeff Barnes

Basil

I would never

pee on your grave.

Such a cliched action

would be far too crass.

Instead I will plant seeds

and in time the basil

will sprout and overwhelm

your blanket of grass. - Jeff Barnes