NOTHING LIKE A GOOD OLE GARAGE POEM!

garage2

I have neglected my blog.  My frequency for changing postings has slowed almost to a halt.  All of a sudden my well is dry…OMG—I’ve got Writer’s Block, that dreaded disease that zaps every ounce of creative juice within your brain and leaves you ambivalent and uncaring.  Oh the humanity!

I sit here dry as sagebrush tumbling through a desert ghost town.  The only thing I can pull a few paragraphs from is my dull, boring personal life as a retired senior citizen who is socially inactive, politically uninvolved and media burned out.

So, what to do?  I have only one option.  I have been cleaning and reorganizing the garage, a little bit each day.  Maybe that will make for some exciting rhetoric…maybe even…just maybe…yes, a poem!  The blockage is gone.  Be off with ye writer’s block and darest not return to this blog address again.  For now I have rediscovered the poet inside me and he cries out  “Garage!”  Yes….garage!

 

The garages in my neighborhood are filled to capacity.

Oh no, not with cars; one would fit in only miraculously.

I suppose there are tires or engine parts in boxes or on shelves

Boundless discoveries can be made, pending how deeply one delves.

You will find all kinds of junk in disarray and not very appealing

But if you take delight in hoarding, one look and you’d be reeling.

As for me, I am the garage owner who likes to keep his car inside.

The family has learned by now this is one rule they must abide.

So our garage is the one with the car within and the junk without.

Although it does have its share of wayward items stored all about.

Shovels and rakes hang on walls lined with shelves and bins

There’s jars of wire and hooks or nuts and bolts in cookie tins.

And there in the midst of it all, there’s still room for the car

It’s the one achievement I have beat my neighbors by far.

History will eventually pay tribute to people like me

Who stand proud before our garages for all to see.

We do the exhaustive work it takes to keep clean our garages

Then afterwards we hit the spa for hot tubs and body massages.

 

….Ah yes, nothing like a good garage poem to help you rise up from writer’s block….enjoy!

*****

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About Marc Kuhn

I am a retired radio exec. I've worked at major stations in Philadelphia, Washington, D.C. and Miami. That was then. This is now: I've published seven books and this blog thingy. Need to know more? Really? Okay, I bare/bear all at http://marckuhn.com The other links are for the websites of each of the books I've written. I've been busy! Hope you'll stop by and check them out. Thanks for your interest!
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2 Responses to NOTHING LIKE A GOOD OLE GARAGE POEM!

  1. rcarmean says:

    Donna and I and our dog, Angus, moved to the suburbs 10 years ago. One of the features our new home had that my childhood home and my adult home for 25 years did not was a garage –a 2 car garage. I had never had one, neither did any of my relatives. At the time, I thought such a garage was a myth started by Jay Leno who collects cars like I used to collect baseball cards. Perhaps the greatest joy for me upon arriving at our final destination was a garage in which we immediately placed both our cars AND various less important treasures. Walking through our neighborhood, we noticed everyone had a car or two, or MORE in their driveway. They filled their garage with other stuff. It’s a decade since that moment and I still don’t know what anyone stores in the huge garages. I have resisted the temptation to go to my neighbors and ask if I could stare at their treasures. It appears to be a mystery I’ll never solve. Unlike Marc’s new mystery, Anchor. (I guessed the ending as soon as I read the last page.)

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  2. One of the things that followed me into adulthood from a (very) poor childhood was the inability to discard ANYTHING that might serve a constructive purpose in the future. Not quite hoarding (a term that in the old days signified a person as that go to place in the neighborhood to find the ANYTHING that you failed to keep) but close. Like you, I have at various times, set about the task of “re-organizing” my hoard, er, collection, of bits and pieces. The amount of odd screws, brackets, string, electrical and plumbing (and plumbing takes up a large part of the hoard, er, collection, I mean, how many trips to Lowes does it take to fix a broken plumb?) crap that gets tossed seems to always be in direct proportion to the economic status our family finds itself in at the moment. If we hit the Powerball, we can either back up a roll off dumpster and clean it all out or maybe buy the storage facility down the road…

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