This is not a poetry blog. It’s a serious blog for smartasses. It’s where smart asses chase unicorns. So we read serious quotes, and we learn about serious, but unique things, such as Mao Zedong and the Cultural Revolution. We may even make a few serious comments. But then, inevitably, things devolve into smartass comments, from the likes of Jim, Joan, Jason, and, hey why do so many smartasses have names beginning with the letter J?
No wait, three of our regular smartasses have names beginning with C: Cranky Pants, Carolyn, and Colin. Carolyn is at Nuggets of Gold, and Colin is at A Dog’s Life . . . And Mine . . . And Yours! I always treat Carolyn with the utmost respect, and never get smartassy with her. So does Colin, though sometimes I can tell what a strain that is on him, to hold back.
Carolyn, on the other hand, is a perennial smartass. And with grammar and syntax issues. There’s nothing like a smartass with grammar and syntax issues to try the souls of other
smartasses bloggers, who know English as a first language.
But if that may seem tough for us, I wonder just how difficult it is for poor Brad, Carolyn’s husband. He has to live with her. Apparently, Colin has wondered the same thing, even to the point of writing a poignant poem, lamenting the trials of poor Brad.
Colin is a deeply thoughtful poet, who has even published his own book of poetry, called Just Thinking. I suppose Colin was just thinking about poor Brad, when he was inspired to compose the following jeremiad, in honor of the poor man.
Like I say, this is not a poetry blog, but rather it’s for smartasses. But this one time, I’m making an exception to the rule. I’m posting Colin’s verses so we can seriously mourn the trials and tribulations of poor Brad, and provide the much-needed empathy this poor man needs.
And if any smartasses out there feel moved and inspired to compose their own verses about poor Brad, you are very welcome to leave them in the comments.
by Colin Chappell
So many years ago
He found himself a bride
Her parents were so glad
At last now she was going
At last she was leaving their home
Everyone was happy… poor Brad.
Her sisters were delighted
That she was getting wed
It was no secret they were glad
They stifled their smiles
As she walked down the aisle
They couldn’t help thinking… poor Brad
He suffered her humor
Put up with her quirks
And then a child they had
Dizzy with excitement
Illogical as ever
Carolyn was a challenge… poor Brad
A second child followed
Much to Carolyn’s delight
And Brad was, once again, a Dad.
“Dizzy Lizzy” was confused
Puzzled and rather perplexing
But our thoughts go out to poor Brad.
So many years have now gone by
So much time has passed
Was it really all that bad?
Well by all accounts
At least from what we hear
All we can say is …poor Brad!
Now over 20 years later
We just shake our heads
She’s obviously quite mad!
We’ve known her for almost two years
And she does have really nice kids
But… we just have to say… poor Brad
Brad is surely a martyr
Suffering the confusion
It really is quite sad
For Carolyn, being so short
If she asked what we thought… we’d say (while looking down)
It’s alright for you… but… poor Brad!