Sistine Chapel

In my last visit to the Sistine Chapel,
The one with Adam munching on an apple,
I spent some time carefully checking the details,
Even scratching the old paint with my finger nails,
To see what lies beneath the known masterpiece,
Under the layers of centuries of dust and grease,
After digging not long but very efficient did I,
Not too deep under a layer visible to my eye,
I saw the original lines of paint by the artist hand,
The same one that made Moses in the holy land,
What I saw was Adam requesting the angel,
To “Be a pal my friend and pull on my handle”,
I am gassy and constipated, and am going nuts,
Be a “mentsch” let me empty my pressuring guts,
Of course – history chose to hide this story,
We see Adam stretching his arm to God’s glory,
The truth unfortunately “was covered” with paint,
However, even under the leaf we can see –
Adam he ain’t no saint,

Technological Theology

To make it easy on those that daily pray,
I have devised a system to ease the way,
Instead of repetitive so and so amen and amen,
I suggest automation for all the wise men,
From now on, we shall have a clickable bible,
To ease up the system without being liable,
If you are here to pray and to generously bless,
Be so kind and on button “Yes” please press,
With a check mark, enter all your requests,
If you are catholic, you can even confess,
This will make for a more efficient system,
Back to sinning you can go – who is to condemn.
After all, we are in the age of technology,
Let us upgrade god and renovate theology,

The Red-Breasted Bird

Today the weather was nice and warmer,
I have no idea how much warmer it was I swear,
I walked very fast on a street with no name,
Red-breasted birds were singing spring to proclaim,
Silly birds it is too early for spring to show its face,
Tonight we expect a foot of snow in this place,
What can one expect from a red-breasted bird?
Sitting on the tree the world looks confused and blurred,
Yet I could understand the birds wishing spring,
It is not what you have but what you are wanting,
So I looked at the bird and I shouted out loud,
Keep singing for summer dear, winter is soon out,
The bird gave me a side smile with its beak,
This bird was good knew every little shtick,
Now I can relax, as spring is soon to be,
A red-breasted bird gave her word to me


I learned the languages of the birds,
So I can talk with them exchange a few words,
I learned Latin from Cicero in order to converse,
With the greatest philosophers in the universe,
I studied Greek from Socrates Homer and Plato,
Spend evenings in discussions with the older Cato,
Confucius gave me his teachings in Mandarin,
George Bernard Shaw taught me Gaelic in Erin,
Urdu was easy to learn Gandhi was very patient,
Goethe taught me German he was very efficient,
Communicating as you can see is important to me,
I have yet to meet someone that does not agree,
Yet with all these languages tongues and vocabularies,
It seems I am doing well mostly talking to canaries,
I am still looking for a jargon, a lingo or a local dialect,
One that some people I know will be able to select,
So that we may communicate on some basic plane,
It is difficult for a mime philosophy to explain,

Politics in the EU

Berlusconi keeps things interesting,
Three women exposed their right and left wing,
Now this is good politics alive and exciting,
Unlike the politics we get here, Europe is inviting,
Who cares Liberals, Tories, or maybe socialist?
They take off their bras – not raising a fist,
So much fire, so much maturity coming of age,
The important thing is the size of their cleavage,
Vive La France, Viva Italia, long live the EU,
I love your politics Europe what a view,


When we were kids many years ago,
We ate everything good bad and so-so,
We played with bows and arrows we shot darts,
We never covered or protected body parts,
We wore short sleeves rode a bike without a helmet,
Here and there, we got hurt on that you can bet,
But we had fun we pushed the envelope we tried,
We were always playing out and no one ever died,
Today you are in the car with a belt or a baby seat,
A helmet, long sleeves, knee pads, gel on teeth,
Covered with armour top to bottom side to side
We are overprotected this cannot be denied

The White and Greys

A visit to the cemetery on a winter day,
Snow coming down shades of white and grey,
Most headstones are almost completely covered,
Hidden until mid-spring to be rediscovered-
By the first warm rays of the reborn April sun,
The headstones slowly uncovered one by one,
The flowers raise their heads –
From under the melting snow,
Yellows reds and purple a rainbow of colors show,
A celebration of spring and rebirth indeed,
Between the stones, alive came sprouting a seed,
For life continues on it’s the nature of the beast,
We go on except the ones that have ceased,
Until our turn comes to join the whites and greys,
Under the stones till the end of days,

Don’t Grouch

I cannot complain about life and its outcome,
I should not grumble about existence humdrum,
I look around I should be grateful and appreciative,
I am up and alive, animated productive and creative,
Others have encountered trouble from early days,
Some even lost their lives in many styles and ways,
So what right do I have to grouch bitch and whine,
Some have no food to eat and I kvetch about the wine?
Things should be kept in proportions, be measured,
Every moment be cherished revered and treasured,
Life cannot be calm smooth sailing all the time,
Having it a little rough is not really a crime,
Raise your head lower your chin harden your stand,
One day you will be able to pee again –
Without pain in the prostate gland,

Going To the Dentist

I went to the dentist to get my teeth cleaned,
He looked and he said, “A hole needs to be filled”,
Because, you lost that lovely filling friend,
A white filling will be best I so recommend,
So there I was sitting on the “chair”,
My eyes closed in my heart a prayer,
Let it be done – without too much pain,
What can I say I am not one to complain!
But something is wrong I must convey,
In a system I am given pain for which I pay

Horse Meat Burgers

Nothing like a good horse-meat burger in a bun,
This is the ongoing fashion in Berlin and London,
If you did not win a race or came at least third,
You end up as minced meat on someone’s plate,
Problem is you thought you were getting a fillet,
From a prime grade beef aged all the way,
Now you find out you are stuck with a pony,
That at best should have been made into a pepperoni,

Buffalo Wings

Don’t you love Buffalo wings juicy and messy?
With plenty of sauce red hot and zesty,
That makes you sweat from every pore,
Makes you cry and tear all over the floor,
As you look directly into the gates of hell,
With your tongue on fire your tonsils swell,
One thing bothers me to no avail truth be told,
I have yet to see a winged buffalo unfold,

Stanley Cup

I stopped a flying puck with my face,
Now all I have between nose and chin is space,
It was in the Buffalo Sabres Toronto Leafs game,
That I got my glorious claim to hockey fame,
It came flying at 150 miles per hour, zoom,
I heard music an angles choir and a big boom,
Now when someone flushes the toilet in Vancouver,
I get chills a slight headache and I sweat all over,
My doctor says: “it is not a big deal, it will pass”,
Once I fall off a building exposed to gravitational mass,
Either this or Toronto wins the Stanley Cup,
So I am looking for a tall building – going up.

The Way To Go

I am now entering that stage in life,
Where somehow your body is in constant strife,
What is good for the heart is bad for the gout,
You know that steak is bad so you eat trout,
One thing leads to another it is an ongoing war,
Between surviving dinner or munching on a boar,
Eating veggies gives you incredible painful gas,
So you eat dried fruit to make it easier to pass,
Ice cream is out because of high blood glucose,
So is cake, cookies, candy and beer for the cause,
What is a man to do if he wants to survive?
What can one do just to remain alive?
Should one survive on dry toast and beans?
Or on cucumbers lettuce and sardines?
I shall go down proud with steak and “Foie- Gras”,
A bottle of Gin, Cigar and a glass of Stella Artois,

Russian Meteors

A couple of days ago a meteor landed,
Apparently, meteors to Russia are attracted,
Last big meteor landed in Siberia in June 1908,
It laid down a few trees and smashed some real estate,
There has to be something about lonely cold Siberia,
That attracts the meteors – some unique criteria,
It started long before comrade Joseph Stalin,
Now another that broke 4000 windows clean,
It is amazing how lucky we were this time around,
When down came this rock weighing 7000 pound,
Although I can guarantee that our fear factor,
Would be higher had it crashed on a nuclear reactor,

Barcodes and QR Codes

Lately I have been getting different codes,
Barcodes and QR codes all types and of all modes,
I get them in Emails on my food on my cloths,
On a beef steak a crimson plum and chicken broths,
Acquaintances send it to me as a business card,
I have been scanned by the building security guard,
When you board a plane, they use one on your pass,
I had to use one on the line to fill up gas,
Barcodes are used now daily by the masses,
Soon we will all be wearing one on our asses

Bookshop Closing

It is not pleasant to see a store closing,
Sounds final and bad reminds me of decomposing,
Especially if the closing store is a bookstore,
That unfortunately will shut down its door,
I remember when I was a young man long ago,
Every shopping mall had three or four to show,
Nowadays if you are lucky, you see one, which is more,
Of a supermarket of cheap books that cover the floor,
In between greeting cards, dolls, toys, electronics,
Less books and words – a lot more of avionics,
I loved the smell of the leather-bound books,
Pipe and cigar blue smoke adds to the looks,
Now another page of history turned and dies,
Next, they will be selling here fish and fries,

After Babysitting

I was driving at night it was minus fifteen,
You can cut the air with a knife thin and clean,
I was babysitting my grandson tonight it was fun,
The kid slept all night like a baby – (well he is one),
On the way back home listening to 96 point three,
The radio was playing the 4 season’s spring by Vivaldi,
Talking about a total miss – playing “spring” at minus fifteen,
They did not see the paradox of playing spring –
In cold so obscene,

The Snow Birds

Every year as winter slowly dawns,
The freezing cold gets inside your bones,
Canadians grow wings wide and broad,
Pack up golf clubs, tennis set and fishing rod,
Onto the car they jump and away they go,
To that state south and to the east below,
Florida here we come ready or not,
Three million strong from cold to hot,
Every year this story repeats itself,
Canadians put themselves out on a shelf,
I think we need to charge the USA a tax,
For our contribution to their bagel and lax,

It’s a windmill master

All my life I was battling monsters big and bad,
Only to find myself thrown down beaten, it was sad,
I was not listening to the voices inside my head,
Just kept charging repeatedly to no avail instead,
The monsters were of every type of all persuasions,
They were there for all events and all occasions,
I saw their harmful ways, their mean style and fashion,
And I fought them with all my zeal ardour and passion,
Until one day my eyes have opened up to reality,
I should choose my battles based on better quality,
I should avoid all the battles I was fighting for naught,
My second Sancho Panza has given me that thought,
As he was screaming loud “this is another disaster”,
“It is just another windmill, another windmill master”,


We need milestones in our memory banks,
To which years later you will say – “Thanks”,
You will be able to go back and pluck precisely,
A single moment in your history as fruit from a tree,
Have it intact and in one piece, unchanged and unrefined,
Raw and untamed, unaltered, unrevised and unmodified,
Relive that moment, time and time again, then once more,
Let it show proudly and unashamed, as one would a cold sore,
For after years we tend to forget by error or design,
To sweeten the old sorrows, fade out the pain, draw a line,
It is human nature maybe for a purpose or a just cause,
The reason we invent laws and need a Santa Claus,
Yet in the process, we lose much regardless of pain,
Memories of faces and places we try to hold on to in vain,

The Study of Truth

I have been conducting a 60-year study,
One that will settle an argument long and bloody,
Which is the truth, who has the right?
Who has the vision and who saw the light?
Well, after ten years and half a century,
I am ready to say the system is faulty,
I shall elaborate here and clarify the point,
Without prejudice or breaking a joint,
I discovered fast enough there is her truth,
You do not need to be a genius there is my truth,
And guess what, you don’t need to be a sleuth,
There is the plain truth, sticking like a wisdom tooth,
There is the public truth and God has his or hers,
Has nothing to do with what one prefers,
So after the long study had been here disclosed,
The truth lies undecided, naked its bottom exposed,

Laboratory Mice

They experiment on laboratory mice,
They study, test, learn to be wise,
Trying to improve on drugs and disease,
Get rid of coughing barking and the sneeze,
Most times, they come out with amazing resolve,
Solutions that many disease will finally solve,
Sometimes they come with outrageous finds,
That makes no sense to our untrained minds,
I just read an article of an anxiety attack,
That a mouse gets when you put a cat on his back,
Another study that also comes to mind,
The mouse surprisingly breathes through the nose-
But amazingly breaks wind from behind,

Two Years

Two years ago today, you passed away,
Fighting to the end no weakness to display,
The world goes on; always will as worlds do,
Nothing will stop the world turning not even you,
Lots has happened last two years,
Not all will be pleasing to your ears,
Hey, this is the way of the world,
Even I can comprehend and understand,
So just keep an eye on things from up above,
We are OK down here kind of,


I heard that George W. Bush the ex-president,
The one that in the white house was resident,
Has been writing his autobiography all along,
Since he walked into the oval office headstrong,
When interviewed he admitted to his writing,
He said to CNN – if you think this is exciting,
Wait until you see me writing the autobiographies,
Of Abe Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt and the Kennedys,
I also painted my self-portrait since I was president,
Now I paint everyone’s self-portrait on that you can bet,
So here I say to you Mr. president of the US of A
With you at the helm all we had to do was pray

Just Do It

Said the clergyman, I am a merchant of dreams,
Dreams are made of hopes wishes and things,
All you have to do is close your eyes for a bit,
Think hard about what you want – do not cheat,
Then hum a little, say a few words of prayer,
Your mantra, proverb from the holy book if dare,
If it does not work, you did not try hard enough,
And the gods the prophets, leaders saw your bluff,
If it worked your wish came true have no fear,
The clergy will of course take the credit here,
Why is it that we expect wishes to materialize
We do not see thru the racket we do not realize,
You do not get anything from nothing ever,
No matter how hard you make your prayer,
If you want something, for a miracle do not wait,
It is your convictions- not your faith,

Liquid Vacation

A funny thing happened to me-
On the way from the beach at the sea,
I was walking into the Atlantic Ocean,
In Varadero covered with suntan lotion,
As I lowered my head to light my Siglo cigar,
I swear I never had a chance to say Au Revoir,
As I raised my head from my lit cigar looking up,
There I was, in my left a cigar in my right Dixie cup,
Standing tall in my bathing suit in a middle of a field,
In a snow storm with nothing to cover me or shield,
North of Toronto I was standing cigar in my hand,
Minus 20 on the thermometer in no man’s land,
This is what happens when you buy a vacation,
From a travel agency in Libya facing liquidation,

Sand and Stone

A friend of mine told me a story,
A simple story it was not much glory,
Of friendship and hardship and toil,
How it was about to go bad and spoil,
When bad was done by a friend to the other,
The other wrote on sand the deed of his brother,
When the same did a good deed later on,
The other wrote the deed this time on a stone,
When asked by his friend why the difference,
Please explain it to me so it makes sense,
The friend explained very patiently why,
So it became clear in everyone’s eye,
A bad deed in the sand will go with the wind –
Each grain,
But, a good one in stone shall always remain,


Well we all got ourselves on Facebook,
I registered to Epicurious to be a good cook,
I have twitted on Twitter just to be sure,
I registered my domains so I will feel secure,
Now my address is my name STRUDEL my mail,
I have no walls yet I must pay property tax or its jail,
Encyclopedias are gone but we have Wikipedia,
To buy an airline or a cruise ticket I go on Expedia,
To read a book I turn on the Amazon kindle screen,
To play chess I choose Boris Spassky or Alekhine,
Instead of going to the theater we turn on to Netflix,
My dog and cat started having their own virtual ticks,
We have university, college, and our online alumni group,
Too bad we still need to eat and sometimes to poop,


Success does not need an explanation,
Failure does, does anyone need a translation?
Did anyone ever come to you after a win-
And said: “to win is a sin” with a big wide grin,
If you win, you need neither excuses nor reason,
Failure needs justification like timing and season,
You do not enter a game in order to lose,
Unless you are loaded with gallons of booze,
If you are normal, and you use your head,
You enter to win unless you are dead,
In business today, if you fail you are Kaput,
You are either the athlete or the athlete foot

Cold January North Of Toronto

It was end of January 2013 early afternoon,
You could see together the sun and the moon,
The thermometer in my car showed minus nineteen,
There was a layer of ice on the windshield screen,
The road was crispy, frozen, bluish and white,
Birds were stuck hanging in the air in mid-flight,
A moose was standing on the road freezing to death,
A raccoon was sitting fighting for breath,
It was a regular winter day north of Toronto,
Two chipmunks were playing with their testicles polo,

A Heart That Listens

To be wise is better than to be right,
To be compassionate better than being bright,
To be tolerant better than being brilliant,
To be charitable better than being resilient,
For after we are gone this is our legacy,
Whether you are the pauper or the marquis,
The ones remembered are the spiritual,
We don’t need warriors but more rationale,
Instead of great minds that speak a storm,
A big heart that listens – and a home,

Inevitable Consequences

Sometimes we do things we regret,
So we start singing solo instead of duet,
As we grow older, we realize a thing or two,
What was a maybe, or a guess, became very true,
The question – is older means wiser or smarter?
Can wisdom and experience be traded or bartered?
Does pride vanity and conceit padding ones ego,
Turn into an enemy what used to be an amigo,
You can bend and hide behind the tall fences,
Eventually there will be inevitable consequences

We Is Americans

We is sophisticated in the US of A,
We stop abortions and we cure up the gay,
We grow wine in California and sell it in a box,
We have a good TV channel we call it FOX,
We is smart in the US of A, you bet,
We know freedom fries and we know baguette,
We make Camembert and Brie, we make them age,
In the microwave oven because we is sage,
I have a shotgun my wife has a Magnum Colt,
My son Bobby-Lee works on 50 AMPS and 12 Volt,
Bubba is my cousin on my mother’s side,
He was also my father or was he the bride?
We is good in the US of A, you bet your life,
I married my Aunt Louise and now she is my wife,
I was a marine I fought in Iraq for almost a year,
I got them democracy and plenty of beer,
Now I am making sure we can carry a gun
Because I have the right to shoot everyone

The Optometrist

We seem to need optometrists more than ever,
I am not saying that just to sound smart or clever,
We really need optometrists much more nowadays,
Many of us confronted with the odd phrase,
“Love is blind”, “Justice is blind”- what can I say,
We surely need an optometrist to save the day,
We also seem to need more audiologists I fear,
As we seem to be talking more to deaf ears,
Unfortunately, the only thing we have plenty of,
Is expert opinions on this, that and all of the above,
We have also lost our sense of smell, anosmia is ours,
The problem is we don’t smell BS we just smell flowers,
When it comes to taste – it’s in the eye of the beholder,
Although we already established earlier we are blinder,

The Pedometer

For my daily walks, I got a pedometer,
It tells me exactly how long I walked, each meter,
No cheating with this little machine,
You got to stick to the daily routine,
It measures the steps of all kind,
It gives them names from easy to stride,
It also measures time and calories,
Whether you walked the gym or the galleries,
But I outsmarted this little gadgetry contraption,
I tied it to a dog to get extra action,
So now when I sit home watching TV all day,
That little machine is running the kilometers away,
Yes I am doing fine I am really doing great,
As this dog is walking off the pounds losing weight,

Wrong Arrow

In a couple of weeks is the lovers’ day,
Valentine’s conspiracy with Cupid is here to stay,
The little guy flying around with the bow and arrow,
Hitting unsuspecting targets down to the marrow,
He has been doing this since Greek mythology,
No one knows where he gets the energy,
Yet he does it thousands of years already,
Now it is available in many languages and is trendy,
You may get hit by Cupid arrow in many a tongue,
If you are not careful, you too can be stung,
Make sure the arrow is clean and disinfected,
You don’t want to be poisoned or rejected,
Because Cupid’s arrow are known to go amiss,
You were after Veronique from France –
But ended up with Zorba from Greece.

The Androids

Last night as I walked into the apartment,
I saw my desktop synchronizing with my tablet,
Earlier he was with my laptop quietly Bluetoothing,
Some of you may think – this is just computing,
Ha-ha! Don’t be mislead they are a sneaky lot,
Much is going on their systems – and good it is not,
Especially the sneaky Android with the Smartphone,
I can see their little green lights, as they are burning on,
The minute I turn my back on the bunch,
A lot of bits and bytes begin to crunch,
I don’t trust these so called smart machines,
That keeps hiding innocently behind their touch screens,
Beware of the androids that you hold in your hand,
They all mean to take control over the world,