Lance Schonberg

Writing Dad at large

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Book Cover: Big Hair Day

Big Hair Day

Caffeine keeps the brain cells moving.

  • Life,  Poetry

    Friday Poetry for 15 December 2017

    15 December 2017 / 0 Comments

    by Another from the deep vault, the date on this silly piece, according to the original file, is 02 November 1999, and it concerns possibly the greatest food ever created, pizza. Once, years before this poem, while a university student, I ate pizza for twenty-three (that’s 23) consecutive meals. Oh, not all from the same pizzeria, and not all with the same toppings, and not all at the same temperature. It is, it is, a glorious thing to be the pizza king.   Ah, pizza Food of the gods But no other food Puts more people at odds Anchovies, sausages Mushrooms and cheese Onions, green peppers Pineapple, chick peas Toppings…

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    Lance

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  • Poetry

    Friday Poetry for 08 December 2017

    8 December 2017 / 0 Comments

    by From the vault. The note in the original file is that it’s on the occasion of my almost ten-month-old son’s third cold. He’ll be turning 19 shortly.   Few things shake your soul Like a baby with a cold Pick me up, put me down Turn me over, turn me around Go away, come here, go away No, wait, I want you to stay I’m tired, can’t sleep I’m hungry, won’t eat I’m thirsty, won’t drink Just pour the milk down the sink Short naps in the bed Rub my tummy, rub my head Daddy’s tired, needs a rest Mama-mama (likes her best) Cry and scream, scream and cry…

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  • Poetry

    Friday Poetry – A Blank Verse Sonnet

    20 October 2017 / 0 Comments

    by Tell me again how there’s no global warming. Oh right, we’re supposed to say climate change. I see, it was cold where you are today, And god is taking care of everything. Sorry? It’s warm and it’s supposed to be? Well, of course, you must still be correct then. What difference a few billion humans, A few thousand years of shaping the world? Isn’t it nice to live consequence-free And know nothing you do really matters? Your kids will inherit the same old world, Still turning the same as it always has. But if you’re wrong, maybe clean up a bit? Or at least try not to shit where…

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  • Poetry

    You Were Expecting Something About Bad Luck?

    13 October 2017 / 0 Comments

    by Written a couple of summers back while musing on the perception of meteorology.   Weather prediction Is a nasty affliction And accurate you may be But a thousand times right Drown in one rainy night And that’s all people will see by

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Book Cover: Trollsign

Trollsign

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