Drill Baby Drill
DRILL BABY DRILL
“Oh-oh say can you see”
Any beach-sand oil free
This pollution debris
A gift from corporate B P
DRILL BABY DRILL
This sea-borne disaster
Oil hardened like plaster
Needs a plug-the-leak master
To stop the oil gushing faster
DRILL BABY DRILL
Beautiful pelican creatures
Once with beautiful winged features
Now bogged down in oily slime
No longer enjoy their flying time
DRILL BABY DRILL
B P drilling for profits and dividends
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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St. Peter At The Golden Gate
St. Peter at the Golden Gate
Explained, for me it’s much too late
That Heaven’s gate, without a doubt
Was built right there to keep me out
It’s common knowledge, I’m no Saint
But a real bad guy, I surely ain’t
Heaven knows, I’ve done some wrong
But it doesn’t mean I don’t belong
I know I’m not the most devout
But pray, St. Peter, don’t fence me out
I promise I won’t cause chagrin
To those in Heaven, all fenced in
I’ll run a casino for all to enjoy
I’ll run it as pure as an altar boy
And dear St. Peter, I give you this pledge
At Heaven’s casino, I’ll give you an edge
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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The Thud Of Silence Was Like A Tsunami
What happened in London-town
Caused traditionalists to sport many a frown
Michelle Obama touched the queen
With bare arm around the royal beam
The thud of silence was like a tsunami
Heard from London to Miami
Never before in all times past
Have Londoners been quite so aghast
They even stalled their daily tea-time
Which they rarely miss in war or peace-time
Yet Prince Charles, the stalwart prince
Didn’t allow his royal feelings to evince
The Queen had never been touched before
Assuming one believes that English lore
But somehow or other she made it through
‘Cause she liked Michelle, her friend so new
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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Sir Gilbert
As Sullivan's musical catalyst
Sir Gilbert, the lyrical satirist
Wrote words so amazing
His most clever phrasing
Was crammed with many a patter-twist
His uplifting view of the masses
Spoofed society's uppity classes
He created a fool-bah
In haughty old Pooh Bah
Who's foolishness, no one surpasses
At dispensing justice, The Mikado was an oficionado
He played this role with grandiose bravado
'His object so sublime
Fit punishment to crime'
Did this all-mighty Emperor, The Mikado
Their Comic Operas, not at all bore-ish
Their word-gems so Pinafore-ish
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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Pinnochio
Geppetto took a block of wood
With knife in hand he tried
To carve his path to fatherhood
With a son wood could provide
He carved and carved all day and night
Working beaver-ishly
He soon would see the end in sight
Carving fever-ishly
He was rewarded with a son
Who was, of course, just wood
But with this son, he felt as one
It made him feel so good
To give him life he pulled some strings
And gave his son a name
Pinnochio would Geppetto bring
Some joy and even fame
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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Well Almost
“Tune in next week, same time, same station”
How those words so frustrated me
Why did they always need to ration
Time with my hero, who elated me
Hi Ho Silver, Away! !
The masked man, Lone Ranger
With faithful friend Tonto
Could squelch any danger
They squelched danger pronto
Hi Ho Silver, Away! !
Riding the plains on their most valiant steeds
Opposing those outlawing dudes
To radio stories of unmatched deeds
My seven year old ears stayed glued
Hi Ho Silver, Away! !
Adorned in boots, mask and white hat
I’d be riding those great western plains
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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Angelic Me
My teacher told me to behave
But behaving’s what I never craved
She thought I acted too outlandish
Just being me was too out-Stan-dish
The girl’s pigtail in the inkwell soaked
How it got there was my little joke
I whistled when teacher turned her back
Music’s what our classroom lacked
To the principals’ office I was sent
It clearly became a daily event
She told him I was rude and frightful
Yet my friends in class thought me delightful
My mother when she came to school
He told her I was the classroom fool
She didn’t believe that awful man
Could say that of her angel Stan
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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Plumbing (or) The Taming Of The Spew
He called to his wife, sounding, oh so, bereft
“Water just spewed right out of the sink
I just turned the faucet a bit to the left
It’s not my fault, I really don’t think”
The wife replied, “you go to work. I’ll call the plumber”
“Which one? ”, The wife’s husband did ask
“Don’t worry”, she said, “I have his number
The plumber best fit for the task”
The husband then left, as his job did come first
And she quickly got on the phone
She called up this man, the man of her thirst
The plumber with love undertone
He’d been there before, when her pipes needed fixing
When he laid right under the sink
With a large dose of grease, he gave them a slicking
This plumber sure was in the pink
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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Relics From The Past
We never thought they'd disappear
We took them all for granted
But now long gone, it seems quite clear
They've been permanently supplanted
Carbon paper, remember it?
It copied printed matter
Creating files in triplicate
It helped us save our data
Fashion concious men
Covered shoes with spatz
Fashionable women
Wore millinery hats
Cars with rumble-seats
In our driving apparatus
Were driven by elites
As a way of showing status
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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Our Topsy-Turvy World
In the very very topsy-turvy world
Straight lines are elliptically curled
Way above is found below
Jungles covered up with snow
In the very very topsy-turvy world
In the world, so very very topsy-turvy
Ascorbic acid always brings on scurvy
Books with empty pages
Are read by all the sages
In the world, so very very topsy-turvy
The world of topsy-turvy consternation
Filled with topsy-turvy complications
Where the right is on the left
The most happy, most bereft
In this world of topsy-turvy situations
Foolish topsy-turvys heed no warnings
Sure there’s no such thing as global warming
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poem by Stanley Cooper
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