The repercussions of long discussions can be deep and wide and troubling. For strong protection try misdirection. Perhaps mention tripling or bubbling. 8/1/02010 Did you notice the "misdirection"? If you were paying attention, you were likely waiting for a rhyme with "troubling" and the setup word of "tripling" should have led you to expect "doubling". But then I threw in "bubbling" instead. Okay, so it's gimmicky. What do you want? I'm providing these free of charge.

If I start to pant but I'm still unable to breathe and my skin breaks out in hives, please don't — you can't — I don't want you to leave or force feed my sour cream and chives. 7/31/02010 I don't remember composing this one, but it sure seems like it was strictly an exercise in rhyme.

Once I am dead I won't need a bed. For I won't do any more sleeping. Nor will I require any fancy attire or alarm clock to wake me with beeping. 7/30/02010

If you desire to someday retire I hope we can succeed. You inspire me to aspire to fulfill your every need. 7/29/02010

Think I'll make it in the nick of time! Brother, can you spare a dime? 7/28/02010 This was me trying to squeeze a poem in by midnight. Terrible, terrible, terrible!

Sometimes I feel like a bird on the wing and sometimes I feel quite small. Sometimes you love me early in spring and sometimes late in the fall. 7/27/02010

Pretty much all that matters to me matters because of you. I'm going to love you the rest of my life even if you become a Jew. 7/27/02010 As I've probably mentioned, my darling wife is in the process of converting to Judaism. This is not my favorite idea ever. Such is life.

I feel terrible. I feel awful. I wasted a day of our life. I wish I could take it back and redo it and show you I love you, my wife. 7/27/02010 This was written after some horrible and pointless argument and misunderstanding.

When you kiss me you give my heart wings. When you hug me you set my heart free. I'll never get tired of feeling these things. I cherish what you do to me. 7/25/02010 Another in a long line of gushy love poems.

I've listened to their arguments and still I'm not persuaded. For when it's time to make their point, the truth's always evaded. 7/24/02010 This one is paired thematically with the previous one.

Don't believe the “polymath|flibbertigibbet” label that you see above in this blog's header graphic? Check this out: I recently found out about The Thousand-Year Game Design Challenge and within a week had invented a new game and submitted it for consideration in the competition. Read about my game, Venn's Revenge , by clicking here or by clicking on the “Venn's Revenge: The Game” link in the sidebar.

I've listened to their arguments and found them unconvincing. The "logic" they use tends to induce wincing. 7/23/02010 This one was inspired by religionistas pushing their fairy tales as if they represent reality.

A pizza pie is nice and so's a bowl of rice. Sometimes it's quite funny when your eggs are runny. 7/22/02010 No deep meaning here. This was simply an exercise in rhyme.

I love when you call me Dammit. It reminds me of how much you care. But I wonder whether you'd call me that if I danced more like Fred Astaire. 7/21/02010 Dammit is one of my darling wife's nicknames for me. In case you were wondering.

For my birthday, I don't need a fish. I want you to love me. That's my only wish. 7/20/02010 My birthday was fast approaching and my darling wife was probably asking what I wanted.

I've loved you for miles. I've loved you for years. I've loved you through smiles and I've loved you through tears. 7/19/02010

Thanks for not squirting my eyes with a lime or another citrus fruit. Thanks for loving me all of the time and for giving me kisses to boot. 7/18/02010 A gushy love poem.

If the weather's warm enough, surely we will melt. So far it's never happened yet; that's just how we've felt. 7/17/02010 This must've been written on a very warm day.

Invading skunks, cops are drunks. What's going on in this town? Pumpkin trees and your knobby knees to chase away my frown. 7/17/02010 The first stanza involves us having come home to discover three pair of skunks waddling around on our lawn. It also involves a report we heard about a cop in our town being disciplined for drunk driving. The second involves my experiment in growing pumpkins from seeds. The mention of my darling wife's knobby knees is an allusion to her having lost an amazing amount of weight.

Uninteresting, boring, dull as can be. That's my entry in the dictionary. Thrilling, exciting, extraordinary. That one's yours. Don't know why you chose me. 7/17/02010 Here's a bit of my old self-deprecation creeping its way in.

The twinkling of stars, the glow of the moon are dim next to you in my sight. I likely won't see you till well after dark. That's why I long for the night. 7/16/02010 I must've been in the middle of a workday that I expected to go much longer than I hoped.

Someday I might sing you a song in hopes you might sing along. Someday I might write you a letter in hopes it might make you feel better. Someday I might take you flying in hopes it might stop your crying. 7/15/02010 I'm not really sure what was behind this one. Probably just an exercise in rhyme.

If anyone ever asks me what it is I see in you, I will answer simply: "Everything. (…And her eyes are sometimes blue.)" 7/13/02010

What would it cost? What would truly be lost, if I spent a long while entranced by your smile? 7/12/02010 And another.

Would anyone notice I've drifted away if I got lost in your eyes for a day? 7/11/02010 Another gushy love poem.

Seven years down, I hope you don't itch and decide that it's best to leave me in a ditch. I'd love to be married for seven years longer. I'm hopeful by then our love will be stronger. Seven years later, I hope still together. We can walk hand-in-hand, no matter the weather. 7/10/02010 An anniversary poem.

Reaching the end of our seventh year of marriage, I wish I could show you how much you mean. I'd love to give you a ride in a magical carriage. That would be befitting for you, my queen. 7/9/02010 Another in a long line of gushy love poems.

If you were a bureaucrat then I guess you'd know just exactly where it's at and where red tape should go. 7/8/02010

Your ojos, your ojos— invading my dreams. Must be the result of one of your schemes. 7/7/02010 My darling wife claims to like the poems about her ojos especially much.

Sometimes it's entirely too hot to tolerate these dogs leaning up against my skin. 7/6/02010 Must've been having a warm spell.

You fill me with joy though you fill me with dread. I can't understand what goes on in your head. 7/5/02010 I don't remember just what it was that provoked this poem, but I'm sure it was something.

Today is Independence Day but I depend on you to make me very happy and not start feeling blue. Happy Independence Day, my one true guiding star. I love what you do for me and everything you are. 7/4/02010 A holiday-themed, rhyming, gushy love poem.

I saw an aardvark in the dark or maybe that's not right. Perhaps it was a bit of fuzz playing tricks on my sight. 7/3/02010 It rhymes. But see how clever? Lines 2 and 4 rhyme with each other. That's obvious. Perhaps you didn't notice that lines 1 and 3 contain internal rhymes.

Every day starts at midnight and that's when every day ends. No matter how long any day lasts I'm going to love you then. 7/2/02010 A gushy love poem.

like a tennis game before the first point's been won: all tied up, love, love. 7/1/02010 Have I mentioned that haikus are easy?

Before their sentence from a fruit-loving judge, several defendants (for stealing some fudge) went out and planted a nice lemon tree in hopes they'd be granted some rare clemency. 6/30/02010 I think this is one of my best.

I like when you are happy. I don't like when you are sad. Your happiness is good for me. It makes me feel so glad. 6/29/02010 Another gushy love poem.

I live for your hugs. I live for your kisses. I live for your loving, my wonderful Mrs. 6/28/02010 A gushy love poem.

I loved when you told me about your dream and made me laugh out loud. You should read my bestselling book. 6/28/02010 My darling wife had a hilarious dream in which she and a friend were being accosted by a group of women who kept pushing these pamphlets at them and institing that "you should read my bestselling book!" Eventually, the friend was turned into a "bestselling book" pamphlet peddler.

When you are sleeping your eyes are hidden from view by your own eyelids. 6/28/02010 Haikus are easy!

I want to see you smile and laugh and dance with joy as if you had just found a wonderful new toy. 6/26/02010 Third in a series.

Thanks for loving me as I am and not insisting I eat spam. 6/26/02010 Also short and goofy.

I'm so glad you came back home instead of extending your long roam. 6/26/02010 Short and goofy.

anticipation excitement and eagerness tomorrow comes soon! 6/24/02010 A haiku in anticipation of my darling wife's return home from her vacation.

Yesterday was Draw a Bird Day . This is a "holiday" that I didn't know about until yesterday evening. Still, I participated. Here's my bird: I've titled this one Awkward, Undaunted . ----- Also, I know it's been a long time since I've posted a poem. [Not that anyone's noticed.] There are poems waiting. I've just been busy not typing them up. A shame too, considering that we're now deep into National Poetry Month . I promise that I'll resume posting poems by the end of the month.

I love you every time there is and every time there's not. I love you when it's cold outside and also when it's hot. 6/23/02010

You won my affection and broke through my armor. Your kiss, my confection, you sweet little charmer. 6/22/02010

I love you in the afternoon and later, when it's dark. I love you whether bicycling or strolling through the park. 6/21/02010 Another gushy love poem.

Your fingers shrinking got me thinking about your wedding ring. On the day we married, that ring I carried as such a precious thing. Now you are my wife, the best part of my life. So much more important than bling. 6/20/02010

Another dead mouse this time a homegrown victim super-cute while live. 6/19/02010 Our border terrier killed a mouse in the house on the day this poem was composed. I had seen the mouse scurrying around the kitchen earlier, but I was unable to capture it and set it free in a safe location. It ran under the oven, where I lost it. Some hours later, it must have reemerged, whereupon it met its violent end. I'm sure you've noticed that this is a haiku.

I wish I were with you wherever you are. In a boat, on a train, on a plane, in a car. 6/18/02010

I will love you every day even when you've gone away. I hope we'll talk on the phone. Then I'll feel less alone. 6/17/02010 My darling wife was still on vacation.

Fluttering, my heart quickens its rhythm when you approach and kiss me. 6/16/02010 Another gushy love poem.

If Miss Willow saw Don Orsillo, I'm sure she'd run and hide. She'd disappear whene'er he'd come near. Especially if he offered a ride. 6/15/02010 Here "Miss Willow" refers to our cat, who is extremely fearful of strangers. Don Orsillo is a guy who does television broadcasts of Red Sox games. He might be a former baseball player. Of that I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that Willow does not like to go for rides in cars.

I love you on your knees. I love you on your pelvis. I love you more than circus fleas. I love you more than Elvis. 6/14/02010 Another gushy love poem.

Life is sometimes challenging but it's really not a test. At the end may come a stroke or a cardiac arrest. 6/13/02010

If only you would let me, I'd love to kiss your cheek. Then I'd have a reason to explain why my knees are weak. 6/12/02010 Gushy love poem.

Solo and lonely. I miss having you with me. My spirit's so low. 6/12/02010 This must have been composed on the first day of my darling wife's vacation. She gets more vacation time from her job than I get from mine, which means that sometimes she goes away, leaving me alone for a week or so.

A grand slam scores four, unless it's at Denny's for breakfast. Then it's not really a score… or at least it isn't the best. 6/12/02010 Silliness.

Suzie, Cindy, Martha, Lupe: Names that are not yours. If you had them framed and hung, Perhaps you could give tours. 6/10/02010 Bucking the odds, the poem posted for St. Valentine's Day is not a gushy love poem. Strange, that.

I love you when you're toasty. I love you when you're cold. I love you when you're timid. I love you when you're bold. I love you when you coddle and even when you scold. I loved when you were younger. I'll love when you grow old. 6/9/02010 A gushy love poem.

Nitrogen and oxygen are floating through the air. You don't see them doing so but still, they're always there. 6/8/02010 A science poem!

I am Mr. Sleepyhead. That is why I went to bed. 6/7/02010 No doubt, composed late at night.

In case anyone is actually counting on the consistency of one poem per day, I hereby apologize for missing yesterday's posting. Still, I think 145 consecutive days without a miss is pretty amazing.

If I end up falling apart at the seams I can still be whole, at least in my dreams. 6/6/02010 It's not good, but at least it's not a gushy love poem.

Wouldn't you like to fly to the moon on a cloudless night in the month of June? Wouldn't you pity those who try in the mid-day heat in the month of July? 6/5/02010 I think I like the rhythm better this way: Wouldn't you like to fly to the moon on a cloudless night in June? Wouldn't you pity those who try in the mid-day heat of July? 6/5/02010

I haven't written a bit of verse since before this morning. But I'm going to sneak one in almost without warning. 6/4/02010 I'm not quite certain, but I suspect I sent this one just before midnight.

I hear that you like one poem better than all of the rest— something about your eyes. I guess you think it's the best. I don't recall just how it goes. I suppose it's complimentary. Perhaps it's about their beauty or about how far they can see. 6/3/02010 My darling wife tells me that her favorite poems are the ones about her ojos, but she got into the habit of saying "o-yos" instead of "o-hos". It's endearing.

Have you ever noticed? Do you think that it's strange? That when you say "thank you" my response is never "you're welcome"; it's always "I love you." 6/2/02010 This is true. I almost never say "you're welcome" to my darling wife. Also true is that when I'm addressing her directly, I almost never call her by her name. I call her "my love" almost all the time. It's not that I've forgotten her name, of course.

Perhaps I should write you a poem to rhyme all your troubles away. Then you might end up relaxed; spend your time blowing bubbles all day. 6/1/02010

I love you more than Thanksgiving and more than Christmas day. I love you when you're near to me and when you've gone away. 5/31/02010

If Mr. Newton were made half of gluten and the other half pure peanut butter, do you think he'd make kids break out in fits or perhaps even cause them to stutter? 5/30/02010 Here, "Mr. Newton" refers to our chihuahua.

With a kayak on my back, I took my bike for a hike. I climbed a mountain in a fountain and did some dunking while spelunking. 5/29/02010 This was purely an exercise in rhyme.

If you swim to Portugal then crawl to France, by the time you arrive you might have no pants. 5/28/02010

You anticipate my every move because I lack spontaneity. You know whether I'll bring the gloom or lighten things up with some gaiety. 5/27/02010

I dreamt I stood upon a ledge and pondered what was past the edge. I looked out into misty haze; saw a future twisted maze. I stepped back safely to the past and hoped the comfort there would last. 5/26/02010

Your hair, your hair, so shiny and soft— truly a wonder how it stays aloft. 5/25/02010

Curses! My verses— You don't even bother to read. I write them special for you. Ojos and yo-yos, a magical steed, and watch this: gobbledegoo! 5/24/02010

I love you still. I always will. Even when I'm over the hill. 5/23/02010

I tried being younger. That was fine until now. Now I'll try being older. That seems right somehow. 5/22/02010

Here are some theses and there are some thoses. I must have misplaced your dozen red roses. 5/21/02010

Salt and pepper rhyme with malt and leper but how can that help a poet? I could tell you your love fits me like a glove but I think you already know it. 5/20/02010

I don't know why you fell for me but I sure am glad you did. You make me so much luckier than any other kid. 5/19/02010

All that remains of dinosaurs is birds. All that remains of dead poets is words. 5/18/02010

If you wear out your jeans or wear out your sole, it's easy to notice. Just look for the hole. If you wear out your welcome, how can you tell? There's no telltale damage, no telltale smell. 5/18/02010

I owe you a poem. I owe you a kiss. I owe you some hugging. I owe you some bliss. 5/18/02010 This followed a day on which I didn't get around to composing a new poem.

The color of your eyes changes sometimes as does the color of your hair. I love the colors of all of your parts all the time and everywhere. 5/16/02010 Gushy love poem.

When you kiss me with your lips, it makes my heart turn gentle flips. 5/15/02010 This is definitely a gushy love poem.

A smidgen of pidgin can go a long way but knowledge from college will more likely pay. 5/14/02010 Not a gushy love poem!

If you were a star up high in the sky I would step out to see you nightly. 5/13/02010 Yet another.

Nobody loves anybody more than I love you. Anyone who says he does doesn't know what's true. 5/12/02010 Another gushy love poem.

The first mile we walk, it's easy to talk. The breathing's still easy to time. After the second, I notice home's beckoned. But we still push ahead. Three miles done, it feels like we've won. But still there are miles to go. With four miles down, we've passed through the town. I think I can still make this rhyme. After mile five, we're still quite alive, though I start fantasizing of bed. I find the sixth mile feels like a trial. When it will end, I don't know. With the seventh mile past, we see home at long last! And isn't it just about time? 5/11/02010 This poem was composed after my darling wife and I went for a seven-mile walk. I like the complexity of the rhyme scheme here. Each stanza is AAB and the last lines of the stanzas are ABCABCA. I'm not really happy with the last line of the first stanza, but such is life.

When I see you smile I am happy. I can't help it. It's beyond my control. I think this is as it should be. Love. 5/10/02010 And again.

You are, to me, a greater treasure than all the diamonds I can't afford to get you, all the jewels and precious metals, all the wealth in the world. 5/9/02010 Gushy again.

Harmony, melody, dissonance, assonance, also rhythm and rhyme, all of these things in their time. 5/8/02010 I think this one's especially terrible. Sorry for that.

How many ways could I possibly say that you are all I need? For you I would walk and for you I would talk and for you I would even bleed. 5/8/02010 Yet another of those gushy love poems.

I love when you sing your songs to me with made up words— the lyrics only you and I may ever know. 5/8/02010 My darling wife sometimes makes up lyrics to songs. I'm not sharing any of them with you.

I love your kiss; it gives me bliss. I love your touch so very much. I love your smile all the while. I hope to hear your laughter for happily ever after. 5/6/02010 Such a gushy love poem!

I've discovered that Libbets' stamina is greater than my own. 5/5/02010 I composed this haiku after taking Libbets out for a walk/jog of a few miles. It seemed that I got tired out quicker than she did.

I may not announce my love for you with a lightning-like flash and a thunderous crash but I hope that you know that it's true. 5/4/02010 I happen to like the ABBA rhyme scheme.

Flailing, growling, baring of teeth, barking, gnawing, falling asleep. Specialties of Libbets, old lady dog extraordinaire. 5/3/02010 Just a little sketch of some of the characteristics of our border terrier, nearly 11 years old at the time I composed this poem.

It will never be wrong for me to love you as much as possible. 5/2/02010 A gushy love haiku.

If love appeared as light, my love for you'd be bright… brighter than the sun. Now wouldn't that be fun? 5/1/02010 Back to the gushy love poems, of course.

It's not a myth: I am full of hunger and my thirst is raging. Nothing to do with carhops getting younger or vampires never aging. 4/30/02010 The last remaining carhop restaurant in New Hampshire happens to be The Fabulous Fifties, right here in Newport. We went there for dinner and ordered from Autumn, one of the carhops there. We know her because she used to date one of Beth's coworkers. She seemed years younger than she had seemed when last we saw her. That was part of the inspiration for this poem. Another part was Beth's fascination with the question of whether Bella would be wiser to go with Edward, becoming a vampire and gaining eternal "life", or to go with Jacob and get access to a bazillion abs, without risking her eternal soul. I believe I actually composed this between placing our order and getting it delivered. Hence the hunger and raging thirst.