Poetry by Mark Hamme

Good Vibrations
By Mark Hamme

Good vibrations are not an earthquake;
Nothing leaving destruction in their wake.

They are like any vibrating armchair;
That can soothe and calm aches, pains and care.

Good vibrations are a fond memory,
A look, or smile, given lovingly,
A touch that shows kinship or affection
Or things that some share, making connection

Good vibrations are a positive view,
A friendly greeting or an “I love you”.
They are good things you can say to a friend
Inn tender moments, or a card you can send.

Good vibrations are every pleasant sound;
Children laughing, birds chirping all around.
Or they are lovely sights, like a well-dressed lad
Or lass, of course, or eyes open or glad.

Good vibrations are a light, loving touch,
A tickle, caress, a hug and such;
Good sensations that make you feel at home,
That give you hope, or make you write a poem.

Good vibrations are universal things.
Those that don’t touch you are like hugs on wings –
Things you wish to do, relive, sense or be,
And the name of my book of poetry.

Which Witch is Which?
By Mark Hamme

Ipswich’s witch switched
With twin sis Twitch.
Ipswich’s witch itches
Which witch itches?
Ipswich’s witch?
Ipswich’s twin sis Twitch
Which switched with
Ipswich’s witch?
Which witch is which?

Too Weird
By Mark Hamme

I’ve never been quite sure
About being indecisive;
Nor could I ever unite
Without being divisive.

Now speaking of division
(Multiplication’s derision)
Or to a greater extent, diminish
The start you wish to finish,

What’s non-repetitively redundant
Could be sparsely abundant –
Oxymoronically tautological.
Is it naught, or fraught of logic?

This Zine is Mine
By Mark Hamme

Springy

From a small icy spring sprang
Life as if from a Big Bang,
For from the little spring sprung
A creek that went unsung.
See, from this little creek streamed
Things that in living teams teemed,
And then the creek did contribute
A river’s tributary tribute.
So, from the tiny spring sprung
Lots of life that was far-flung;
All sorts of fronds, frogs, fishes
For all sorts of water wishes

(Silly and serious, it’s all me!)
But now, I want to rock you in
Rocktober in the halls of Hallowe’en:

Which Witch is Which?
By Mark Hamme

Ipswich’s witch switched
With twin sis Twitch.
Ipswich’s witch itches
Which witch itches?
Ipswich’s witch?
Ipswich’s twin sis Twitch
Which switched with
Ipswich’s witch?
Which witch is which?

Too Weird
By Mark Hamme

I’ve never been quite sure
About being indecisive;
Nor could I ever unite
Without being divisive.

Now speaking of division
(Multiplication’s derision)
Or to a greater extent, diminish
The start you wish to finish,

What’s non-repetitively redundant
Could be sparsely abundant –
Oxymoronically tautological.
Is it naught, or fraught of logic?

Parody: A Misguided Journey
(Broken Arms)
By Mark Hamme

I’m on the ski slope –
Drunk without fear.
You said, “Don’t ski down this time.”
Softly you whispered,
“You’re drunk on beer.
You might as well just ski blind!”
I said, “Whatever!”
And just crossed my heart
Then I hit that tree on the side.
So I go home with you
With broken arms.
I’ll have to ride
While you drive all day.
So please feed me –
I’ve got broken arms.
When I need to pee.
You’ll have to hold it for me –
Broken arms.
I can’t eat without you.
Get dressed alone,
Or open the doors in my home.
I just can’t hold you.
Open a beer,
Forget about holding the phone,
So please scratch my back.
Don’t get in my way;
I watch TV all day
Since I came home with you
With broken arms.
Can’t get up; I fell.
Bathe me cuz I smell.
If I sit or stand with broken arms,
I hope that you’ll be
A full-time nurse for me –
Broken Arms.

Family Reunion
By Mark Hamme

Drunk, many an uncle were.
Drunk they were, but avuncular.
OTPS (Overly Tough Postal System)
Posts stop opts pots tops spot.

Hair Dos and Don’ts
By Mark Hamme

Sue’s do dos, doozie dos, doo-doo
Dos. Lou’s do dos, Tue dos-Blue dos
Too. Lou’s duty; do dos duly.

Nose Runs, Feet Smell
By Mark Hamme

No nose knows so-so toes. Fetid feta
Cheese feet breeze? See three free
Sea fleas flee.

Whose Line is it?
By Mark Hamme

The first/rehearsed/But the second
We’re beckoned; It just isn’t enough
‘Less it’s off the cuff. Not just
Any Slav/Can do real good improv,
But the troupe from Ukraine
Knew how to entertain. I know it’s
Hard bein’/Eastern European.
Just cuz they have hard times,
They shouldn’t write dark lines.
We added a Slovak/who wasn’t so wack
He got to back/and show he’s no
Hack/Plus one funny Croat/who was
Just a pro at/Being a good show cat
So the act won’t go flat. Most of
The French/We had to bench, And to
Leave any German/Was hard to
Determine/Few acts from Spain/Were
Really worth the pain, And a handful
Of Dutch/Could do just half as much.
We snatched up an Andorran/That was
Anything but borin’.
Way over with the Brits
Were some chaps with wits./Some of
The better Scots/Got Laughs by the
Lots./A humorous skit from Wales
Was one that never fails./Whereas
Drama from Sweden/Will leave your
Heart a-bleedin’./ Most actors from
Norway/Never made it through the
Doorway,/ and almost every Finn could
Pack a good crowd in./Almost all the
Poles/Could fit in all the roles.
Actors from Romania
Really used their crania,/ While
Others from Albania/Were their
country’s mania./. The better troupe
From Greece/Came up with a great
Piece./In the Italian boot/The group
Racked in some loot./We used some
Guys from Bulgaria/Who didn’t have
Malaria. I’ll write on our tour of
Asia. It really will amaze ‘ya.

Pflatches
By Mark Hamme

Fat Pat’s flat patch clasp flaps fix
Flats fast.

National Nothing Day
By Mark Hamme

I’m not sure why the first day of Febtember
Is a day I can never seem to remember.
Unlike other months, though, its first day is zero,
In honor of no thing, or national hero.

National Nothing Day has no special food or drink,
And you’re taxed for what you do or thoughts that you think.
You will be fined for trips like going to the mall,
Chewing gum, riding a bike, or bouncing a ball.

Signs say, “All loitering we strictly will enforce”
And “Instead of doing something, stand there, of course!”
Air guitar is something that might be allowed,
For there is no sound, instrument, or cheering crowd.

The motto of Nothing Day Fair: Less is More!
Where the one who does the least gets the highest score.
Sidewalks move for you, so you’re not guilty of walking,
And points are taken off when someone’s found talking.

The Nothing Art Show helps everyone clear their mind.
If you stare at lots of nothing, are there thoughts to find?
To get nothing going and to start it reeling,
Try the pit of no sight, touch, smell, sound, or feeling.
Nothing to do with so much time might not be fun,
But do nothing all day. You’re nothing day is done!