Monthly Archives: May 2013

Chicago Writers and Poets – A poem by Ilze Vitands

         IMG Randolph 2 

 Chicago Stories is introducing a new feature: Chicago Writers & Poets with new works by Chicagoans who bring their personal perspectives to the Chicago experience. I’ve been involved in writing groups and classes for a number of years and continue to meet and read the work of those who are capturing in words their unique take on Chicago life. I’ve been having so much fun I just want to share some of that with all of you. And I’ll be sneaking in some of my stuff, too.

A poem by Ilze Vitands.

QUOTH MY BODY

 By Ilze Vitands                                      

                   Once inside a kitchen cluttered,

                        at the counter there I uttered

                        over many a sauce and condiment bottle

                        and knives with vinyl grips.

                        Here I paused in reverence, asking,

                        my body’s wisdom thus unmasking, 

                        after so much multi-tasking,

                        What refreshment here equips?

                        Of the best and healthy choices?

                        What food here shall pass my lips?”

                     Quoth my body, “Eat some chips.”

 

                 Ah, distinctly I remember

                        my reaction, this dissembler!

                        How my wise and knowing body could retort and be so flip?

                        So I spake, “I am mishearing.

                        Surely you would not be steering

                        me to such unworthy leering

                        at that yellow plastic clip

                        holding closed this bag of Ruffles?

                        “Truly, this food I should skip!”

                     Quoth my body, “Onion dip.”

 

              Presently, with virtue stronger,

                        hesitating then no longer,

                        “Sir,” said I, “No, wait..Madam, you must see

                        this weakness has to stop.

                        Do you not have resolution?

                        Stand against your own pollution!

                        Respect the eons of evolution

                        that will crumble from this slop!

                        Imbibe some purest mineral water!

                        Eat the green and leafy crop!”

                   Quoth my body, “Drink some pop.”

 

            “Be that then our words of parting!

                        Exercise I will be starting.

                        Hoist me hence from my apartment! 

                       To the vast Lake Michigan Sea!

                        There I’ll run along the paving,

                        End this self-destructive craving!

                        My own soul I will be saving!

                        Breathe the air so deep and free!

                        I’ll  run until my sweat

                        doth fill my eyes so I can’t see!

                   Quoth my body, “Watch TV.”

 

            So my body, glad in quitting,

                        still is sitting, still is sitting.

                        Watching reruns of Green Acres,

                        sharing pork rinds with the cat.

                        But in the dark before each dawning,

                        I plot afresh against each scorning

                        Repeating every doctor’s warning,

                        Every warning falling flat.

                        “Won’t you heed my wisdom, body?

                        Make some effort? Lose some fat?”

                   Quoth my body, “Screw all that.”

Inspired by The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

Quoth My Body was pulished previously in the Journal of Ordinary Thought. Ms Vitands writes as a member of the Neighborhood Writing Alliance.


The May 2013 Puzzler

Capone

Did you miss the Puzzler

last month?

 

Sorry. Sometimes the ole Puzzler

gets tired.

So here’s a new one: 

What was the gaff involving the Chicago City Flag in the movie, The Untouchables?

We Chicgoans  love it when we can find something wrong with Hollywood’s attempts to make movies about our city.

Good Luck Everyone!

The answer in a couple of weeks.


A Poem for May

How to Work                                                      

I’m talking about this old guy from here

name of Charley

that old boy was something

yep

could ride a horse standing up

I seen pikshers of him on his horse

Jiggs in World War I days

he’d swing his little bulldog Jiggs

around his head

dog holding on to the end of a rope with his teeth

suppose he liked the name Jiggs

 

that old boy could do some work

bought an eight-room house

no kitchen no bathroom

put ‘em both in by hisself

made the cupboards from scratch

landscaped the backyard

rock-walled gardens and a patio

took off the front porch and built a new one

added two rooms

that time his friend Everett helped out

 

old boy could do some work 

he was sixty-some and

 started shingling that two-storey place

by hisself

just a little guy maybe five-foot-one

hundred and ten or so

done some shingling before but not much

no matter

used asphalt shingles

stiff brittle stuff broke easy weighed

a ton, fifty pounds a bundle

he would sling it up

on his shoulder like a 15-pound ham

 

Charley wanted his boy to help some

and yes he did      some

 he told the boy to use the pre-drilled

nail holes in the shingles

driving the nails too deep’ll shatter the shingle

kid needed to pay more attention

than he was used to

three broke shingles and three ass-chewins

went a long ways for making the boy a worker

 

every night after work and weekends

got the job done in two years

that’s his house across the road there

sixty years nothing’s sagging

shingles‘re looking good

Charley’s been gone forty years now

yep

enough talk  let’s go

grab that bundle

sling it up on your shoulder

that’s the way, sling it

now bring it up the ladder to me

remember what I told you about

bein’ careful driving them nails

you and me we’ll get this goddam job going yet

and it won’t take no two years.

 

Copyright Larry Ambrose