Chicago, the third largest city in the U.S., challenges the sky with its enormous steel megaliths. It's evening rush hour, and traffic is thick. A mosaic of automobiles cram the streets.
Amber sunlight glints off an office building to the left, and Lake Michigan stretches endlessly towards the horizon on the right.
People are jogging, cycling, or dog-walking, everywhere you look; the people are just as diverse as the cars. Black, white, Asian, Hispanic, young, old, all in Chicago. A woman walks by speaking Russian to another woman; an Ethiopian restaurant borders with a McDonald's.
In the Land of Lincoln, Chicago is the realization of the 16th president's dream of equality and harmonious cooperation.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Through the Wall
Sisters screaming,
Baby seeming
more noisy than a swan
(but we're all still quite fond).
Mom is fuming
Dad's pot is spuming.
Abdy's playing with a giant spoon.
Sam is whining like a city 'coon,
"I'm really famished."
"Quit complaining or you'll vanish!"
Mom, to him, tells.
A catapulted spoon fells
The spuming pot;
Now Dad is fuming too.
With all this noise coming through the wall,
It's lucky I got this poem done at all!
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
Baby seeming
more noisy than a swan
(but we're all still quite fond).
Mom is fuming
Dad's pot is spuming.
Abdy's playing with a giant spoon.
Sam is whining like a city 'coon,
"I'm really famished."
"Quit complaining or you'll vanish!"
Mom, to him, tells.
A catapulted spoon fells
The spuming pot;
Now Dad is fuming too.
With all this noise coming through the wall,
It's lucky I got this poem done at all!
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
Conked Him on the Head
One day in good old England,
in an orchard where all the colors blend,
a man names Issac Newton brought a book
and settled down in his favorite nook.
Suddenly an apple fell, it conked'im in the head,
put him for a week in bed.
The eighth day he woke with a strange idea'r.
"Why, now it is all quite clear!
There is a universal law of gra-vi-ty;
all must obey, and guess what? It was discovered by me!"
Some people called him crazy,
said, "what rubbish, pfft, gravity!"
"Old Newt, that's an insane idea'r!"
Oh how they did laugh and jeer!
But one day one of their kind slipped and fell down a well.
And from the dark pit they hear him yell,
"The Old Newt was right,
his point is in sight.
Everyone and everything, even me,
must obey the universal law of gravity!"
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
in an orchard where all the colors blend,
a man names Issac Newton brought a book
and settled down in his favorite nook.
Suddenly an apple fell, it conked'im in the head,
put him for a week in bed.
The eighth day he woke with a strange idea'r.
"Why, now it is all quite clear!
There is a universal law of gra-vi-ty;
all must obey, and guess what? It was discovered by me!"
Some people called him crazy,
said, "what rubbish, pfft, gravity!"
"Old Newt, that's an insane idea'r!"
Oh how they did laugh and jeer!
But one day one of their kind slipped and fell down a well.
And from the dark pit they hear him yell,
"The Old Newt was right,
his point is in sight.
Everyone and everything, even me,
must obey the universal law of gravity!"
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Hidden Fairy People
The white lily glitters in the morning dew,
red roses shimmer, bright petals of violets blue.
From the lovely garden, a lone pixie appears
out of its tulip bed, its groggy, foggy mind clears.
Her red dress billows in a slight breeze,
from a bloom of pink, she heard a tiny sneeze.
And out of the petals, a sprite shot out.
The scratchy pollen had caused an allergy bout.
A cracking twig signals the arrival of a mortal,
and into their flower homes the fairies hurtle.
No one ever sees the little fairies,
only the flowers, leaves, and bees.
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
red roses shimmer, bright petals of violets blue.
From the lovely garden, a lone pixie appears
out of its tulip bed, its groggy, foggy mind clears.
Her red dress billows in a slight breeze,
from a bloom of pink, she heard a tiny sneeze.
And out of the petals, a sprite shot out.
The scratchy pollen had caused an allergy bout.
A cracking twig signals the arrival of a mortal,
and into their flower homes the fairies hurtle.
No one ever sees the little fairies,
only the flowers, leaves, and bees.
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Menu of an Elegant Resturaunt
The drink is exquisite
tea made by a Brit.
For your appetizer,
crab cakes fit for a kaiser.
Your delectable house salad-y
tastes like a sweet melody.
The delicious main dish
is tender baked fish.
For your wonderful side,
there are clams an inch wide.
Your scrumptious desert
is cheesecake with cream curds.
Did you enjoy your meal?
So good you could holler?
That's nice, because it only cost
four hundred dollars.
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
The Most Beautiful Woman in the World
I walk up the wet cement driveway past the garage towards the door of my grand- and great-grandmothers' house. We (me, my parents, and my little brother) just call them Nana and Gigi.
I open the squeaky glass door and knock on the big red one behind it. A few seconds later, a wrinkled, veiny hand with slightly yellowed fingernails peels back the white lacy curtain of the side window. An olive green eye peers out. The hand and eye quickly withdraw and there is a soft click of the lock before the door swings open.
I have barely enough time to set down my bags before I am crushed against Gigi's soft belly by a warm embrace. "Cameron!", Gigi exclaims. "Oooh, it's so good to see you," and she squeezes harder. As she leads me away to the living room, she proceeds to inform me about her (and mine) favorite television cartoon. "Look, Tom and Jerry just came on!" she announces.
Later, as I am unpacking, I overhear the following conversation:
"Hand me the remote, please." (That's Nana)
"What?!" (That's Gigi)
"Hand me the remote," Nana says a little louder.
"What?!"
"The remote. Hand me the remote!"
"Sit on the commode?!!"
"No Mama, I said -"
"What's the use of sittin' on the commode if you don't have to use it?!"
I don't pay much attention to this misunderstanding; that kind of conversation is commonplace with Gigi.
Late that night while everyone else sleeps, there is one light still on in the house. Inside that room, the stakes are rising.
I lay down two cards in the "trash pile", an eight and a jack, both spades. The remaining three cards in my hand are the king of hearts and two fives, one clubs and the other spades. I draw two red-backed cards from the deck. The first one is the king of diamonds, the second is the five of hearts. Nice. That makes a full house.
I must not have a good "poker face" because Gigi gives me a suspicious look. I lay down my hand face up on the comforter of the bed, breaking into a wide grin while announcing, "Full House." Gigi lays down her hand and says slowly, to emphasize my utter destruction, "Four Aces." One of her cheery little smiles breaks onto her face, kind of what you would imagine Santa's smile is like. Her smiles are one of those things you do not fully appreciate until after its gone.
From a purely neutral viewpoint, Gigi is not the most attractive person alive, but to her six year-old great-grandson, she's the most beautiful woman in the world.
I open the squeaky glass door and knock on the big red one behind it. A few seconds later, a wrinkled, veiny hand with slightly yellowed fingernails peels back the white lacy curtain of the side window. An olive green eye peers out. The hand and eye quickly withdraw and there is a soft click of the lock before the door swings open.
I have barely enough time to set down my bags before I am crushed against Gigi's soft belly by a warm embrace. "Cameron!", Gigi exclaims. "Oooh, it's so good to see you," and she squeezes harder. As she leads me away to the living room, she proceeds to inform me about her (and mine) favorite television cartoon. "Look, Tom and Jerry just came on!" she announces.
Later, as I am unpacking, I overhear the following conversation:
"Hand me the remote, please." (That's Nana)
"What?!" (That's Gigi)
"Hand me the remote," Nana says a little louder.
"What?!"
"The remote. Hand me the remote!"
"Sit on the commode?!!"
"No Mama, I said -"
"What's the use of sittin' on the commode if you don't have to use it?!"
I don't pay much attention to this misunderstanding; that kind of conversation is commonplace with Gigi.
Late that night while everyone else sleeps, there is one light still on in the house. Inside that room, the stakes are rising.
I lay down two cards in the "trash pile", an eight and a jack, both spades. The remaining three cards in my hand are the king of hearts and two fives, one clubs and the other spades. I draw two red-backed cards from the deck. The first one is the king of diamonds, the second is the five of hearts. Nice. That makes a full house.
I must not have a good "poker face" because Gigi gives me a suspicious look. I lay down my hand face up on the comforter of the bed, breaking into a wide grin while announcing, "Full House." Gigi lays down her hand and says slowly, to emphasize my utter destruction, "Four Aces." One of her cheery little smiles breaks onto her face, kind of what you would imagine Santa's smile is like. Her smiles are one of those things you do not fully appreciate until after its gone.
From a purely neutral viewpoint, Gigi is not the most attractive person alive, but to her six year-old great-grandson, she's the most beautiful woman in the world.
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
After the Fire
Gray smoke hovered in the air, a gossamer veil for what lay within. Burnt leaves that were little more than flaky dust spiraled down from the bare, blackened treetops. The enigmatic smell of burnt leaves accompanied the smoke, acrid and fragrant at the same time. The burnt ebony husk of an oak tree leaned on its brother, roots ripped up from the earth.
The fire had started before dawn - its hungry yellow tongues licking the bark of the trees and the leaves of the bushes. The crackling inferno had quickly engulfed a third of the forest. The smell of smoke and the sounds of a dying forest had woken most animals by then. The crashing and stumbling of the panicked creatures had only added to the horrible confusion. The forest fire had burnt itself out by mid-morning, but not without taking the forest with it.
But there was still hope.
An acorn's black shell popped open to reveal the orange seed it had protected. A mouse, who had been safe inside his burrow during the fire, dared to poke his head out of his home to assess the situation. And finally, a small breeze blew away a patch of the ash that carpeted the ground to reveal one, small, green shoot, reaching for the sunlight that broke through the smoky haze.
The fire had started before dawn - its hungry yellow tongues licking the bark of the trees and the leaves of the bushes. The crackling inferno had quickly engulfed a third of the forest. The smell of smoke and the sounds of a dying forest had woken most animals by then. The crashing and stumbling of the panicked creatures had only added to the horrible confusion. The forest fire had burnt itself out by mid-morning, but not without taking the forest with it.
But there was still hope.
An acorn's black shell popped open to reveal the orange seed it had protected. A mouse, who had been safe inside his burrow during the fire, dared to poke his head out of his home to assess the situation. And finally, a small breeze blew away a patch of the ash that carpeted the ground to reveal one, small, green shoot, reaching for the sunlight that broke through the smoky haze.
© Copyright 2009, The Noodle's Writing Spot/ C.N.Messinides. All Rights Reserved.
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