Bri Edwards Life Poems

When I were schooled english wernt my thing.
My scores in English lurning no bells done ring.
Yea I grajaded but ain't english smart ….no lie!
Come end a school year the teach said 'By Bri.'
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Did you ever notice, in 'funeral', the much smaller word, Fun?
If there was a funeral for me, who would 'from it' and who would 'to it' run?
At 64 I'm overdue perhaps; why should I any longer stick around?
In our big paper dictionary, many as young or younger than I have died, I've found.
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A Day And More In The Life Of A Cornell Student


Blood was dripping from the knife as he pulled it from his chest.
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Blessed I am.I know not by Whom...
or What.But ever since from the womb...
I came, I've led a rather contented life.
Of course there HAS been a bit of strife.
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Hard were the calluses on my Daddy's hands the first time he held me,
and hard it was on Christmas morn' to find only one small gift beneath our tiny tree.
Hard was my Mom's life, raising seven kids and washing other people's clothes.
Without our family's belief in God, life could have been harder.Who knows?
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What do I have to look forward to the rest of my fine life?
It depends, to some degree at least, on my dear wife.
If she stays alive and somehow keeps on putting up with me,
I may live twenty more years (ten more than I 'should') . We'll see.
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Yes, I’m just TOO NICE, but I won’t “blow my own horn”.
It’s something that came naturally to me, ever since ……I was born.
Even BEFORE my birth, “niceness”, to me, did stick.
Why, not ONCE, when I was in the womb, did I, my mommy, kick!
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"What A Nice Life I Have" was, with Jez Brul, a 'hit'.
Now she wants a sequel.So today I'll write a BIT....
.....MORE.
Perhaps two** years of marriage has passed since what first....
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I was conceived inside my author’s brain,
written down on paper, in language plain,
edited and rewritten (at least twice) ……
until (I think) ……..I arrived “quite nice”.
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I suppose it’s been around for thousands of years:
‘inking’ pictures, designs, or words on skin...... from ankles to ears.
Hearts, and skulls, tigers, and snakes,
“MOM”, and swastikas........for goodness sakes!
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Up at dawn to greet the day!
I'd rise sooner if I had my way.
Eat three eggs, and veggies too.
That's what we're all 'posed to do.
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There's a famous poem, " IF ",
but MY poem has a different whiff.
Please don't feel my brain's now too stiff.
Let not my poetic version of " IF " create a tiff.
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Up at dawn to greet the day!
I'd rise sooner if I had my way.
Eat three eggs, and veggies too.
That's what we're all 'posed to do.
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My very good friend, V. George, was told a tale by me "of late"….
(aka "recently") , a story of an event in my life near 50 years ago.
There was a reason the story (about a ditch) , to "V", I did relate.
I'll now relate it to YOU all; pardon me ….IF the relating's slow!
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[sent from Hell]
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Part One: Kill Bri


I’ve suffered the indignity …. to be born [unasked],
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She's up at dawn...to water, AND to hoe,
then takes her mid-morning break to GO …
to the hay mow to present her 'furrow' …
to "Farm Boy" who 'sows' in "Country Girl".
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My dear wife has requested that I write this poem,
and though many may say 'you can't', I'll show ‘em!
I had my doubts about the task at first, I'll admit,
but to admit I can't rise to the challenge, I'll not submit.
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My Bird-of-Youth has flown the coop.
No longer do I soar and swoop.
It's time now for the Bird-of-Old-Age.
The book's not done; I just turned the page.
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It's dark outside. I'm heating water for a drink and I'm eating cold pasta with sauce,
and I've got mixed feelings about being left home by MYSELF as YOU travel. Yes, I do, 'Boss'.
I'm your ‘dog' and you know it. There's no one here now to throw me …..an OLD bone.
It's nice in SOME ways to be more ‘independent', BUT it means I'm also mostly ‘alone'.
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I'll NOT be, by the world, oppressed,
but perhaps at times a bit depressed.
I did not know the world has a tongue,
but it's welcome to speed my 'parting'.
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Steve lived alone. His wife had up and left him,
and gone away with a widowed neighbor, ...Paul.
Steve and Jane's marriage never was too great,
and their fights had increased five-fold of late.
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Here is how I picture myself tonight:
I throw on my shirt, one not too tight.
I pull on my pants; my hips they hug.
Now I'm set to go out & cut a rug.
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I only climbed Mt. Everest twice;
I loved all the snow, and the ice.

I swam the English Channel once,
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The title was suggested for this poem by my back-scenes beautiful “dove”.
Parts of this, my Readers, you may despise, but hopefully parts of it you’ll love.
My dove did not give me any specific thoughts of what to write ABOUT.
Was she referring to our having to (after only 5 years) replace the kitchen sink grout?
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A plastic-coated steel cable stretches taut across our elevated spacious deck.
This clothesline’s meant to last longer than me and keep our drying clothes in check.
I’ve altered it to ensure it does its job, though faced with mighty winds, ......
UNLESS there is some failure of hangers, or of clothes pins with which our clothes are pinned.....
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Why do I care at all what next I do in life?
After all I'm the boss of me...though I don't say that to my wife.

Well sometimes I do care, but should it really matter?
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Some days my Life just goes rambling by,
and I think, my Death, I'd now rather try.

While munching lunch, I spied a buzzing fly,
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Vegetable is the only soup which, to me, does matter,
and, along with it, bread, which IS baked grain-batter.

I got sucked into this poem by force of my food habit,
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Lucy Lou was a girl of ten,
sporting lots of tight brown curls.
Her big teeth and "wandering …
eye" distracted boys and girls.
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Hang tough, though obstacles may seem rough.
I think you're up to the challenges, 'up to snuff'**.

Ok! Maybe you're better, yes, than 'up to snuff',
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One day the healthy chimp was humping a tree hole,
and the hole's occupant just …….would NOT let go.........
of the chimp's sexually-aroused procreation organ.
[[ In the tree hole lived {unknown to chimp} ……a Gorgon! ]]
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I am ‘grateful' for that which pleases me,
or at least is "for MY good".Do you see?
As for "complaining", I do enough; it is so,
.....because some around me CAUSE, for me, woe.
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In neighboring hospitals (on the same day) Jon and Jack were born.
Jon came out with no complications, while Jack’s mother was accidentally torn ….
by Jack’s unusually large head before his mom was …..fully-dilated.
Her distress was so great that the doctor had Jack’s mom sedated.
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I have fond memories of days (past) , it's true,
but what good are memories when I've lost You?
Memories of our fist date; the first time we did roller skate …..together;
that night we stayed out VERY late. That one night did seal our fate ….together.
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I think you'd agree you're unconscious when asleep,
not aware of your surroundings, not uttering a peep ……
except perhaps an unconscious dream-caused cry,
or a little squeak from your little rear end. Oh my!
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I’ve got what many consider a strange outlook on life,
and not many think it stranger than.......does my dear wife.
At age sixty-five, by many, I’m not considered yet “old”,
but I say I’ve lived long enough! I believe it, and NOW you’ve been told.
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Sis walked down ….the country lane,
dragging her long hair, with great strain.
After all, it weighed …at least fifty pounds.
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Most of my body is scheduled (after death) for compost, but..
a few tit-bits shall be sent to relatives for them to roast.
[You haven't lived till you've tasted parts of Bri on toast.]
And my brain shall sit in a jar near Einstein's [not to boast].
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In my youth there were circuses that had rings (three):
in BIG tents, or buildings, they entertained kids like me,
using three circular areas in which could be found:
gymnasts, lions, acrobats, a dancing bear, & a clown.
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Seven years have passed since my first colonoscopy. I had it in New York State.
That doctor said 'wait ten years', but my new wife and new doctor sealed my fate.
My 'new' fate made second colonoscopy come only seven years since my first,
and today most of what I drank I drank not to quench my thirst.
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It's true, as someone recently suggested, that I, Bri, have a pretty nice life.
Of course I might not feel like I have to continue continuing my life if it weren't that I have a wife.
And not just ANY wife; you understand? The one I have now is very special.
That bears repeating (especially since I can think of no other rhyme) . My wife is VERY SPECIAL.
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Blessed I am. I know not by Whom...
or What.But ever since from the womb...
I came, I've led a rather contented life.
Of course there HAS been a bit of strife.
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Soft was the bunny, pulled from his hat of tricks,
and soft were the marshmallows, we used to roast on sticks.
Soft was our wedding-gift-comforter, on our bed at night,
and soft were the vacation clouds, rolling out of sight.
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This may not my typical poem be... because
I don't plan to use much rhyming.... you wait and see!
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i grew up in a modest home. the nearby country i did roam.
modest were my mom and dad. four modest siblings i also had.
geneva was a modest town. at graduation i wore a modest cap and gown.
(ok….my cap had a gold tassel. about that, please don't give me a hassle.)
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When I was little, Bunnies were so soft and cute;
at Easter, the “Bunny” might be a guy..... in a Bunny Suit.
When I was college-age, “Bunnies” were Playboy Girls.
The ones I saw had armor-like outfits to..... go with their curls.
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my life parts are from a junk yard.
that's why some are particularly hard.
but they're stuck together with spittle...
from former quarterback Y. A. Tittle,
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I dare not pick my nose in public, lest I set a bad example;
I dare not name women I think of, lest on-my-wife's-heart I trample;
I dare not miss brushing my teeth once a day, 'Bless My Soul! ',
lest I tempt 'Old Tooth Decay' to make another hole;
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After failing/quitting college, and before I first tied a marital knot,
I sometimes thought I should have had a say as to the life I got.
[More specifically, I thought: "I wish I'd been asked if I wished to be born."]
But I don't recall ever thinking ‘THAT' since I got married, …..
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