composing commercials with jingles,
he was the genius of his time.
Writing scores of lyrics and songs
living luxurious and single,
ravenous ladies would often say,
“That’s my sweet Jimmy Jingle!”
Jimmy found fame and fortune,
jingling with force and fun,
finding the world in his pocket,
wishing his jingling was done.
Jimmy became dark and dreary,
gambling and drinking till it hurt,
drowning in women and drugs daily,
drooling at anything in a skirt.
Ranting and raving about money,
he wasn’t rational yet,
Jimmy lost most of his riches,
riding bet after bet after bet.
Sweet Jimmy had to jingle again,
jotting things really absurd,
jabbing and jeering at his paper,
he couldn’t jot a good word.
No ladies wept for poor Jimmy,
for he died a wicked death.
Since he couldn’t write well,
he jingled on crystal-meth.
I composed this poem for a creative writing assignment, but this is not the poem I had intended to write. I was in one of my favorite places to relax, listening to and watching the river flow by, as I also took in the sights and sounds of the animals in the woods and along the riverbank. My mood and thoughts changed a hundred times in just a short period of time – all of it seemed good.
I thought about how my life went up and down for the good times and bad times. In a flash my poem of the river switched to a poem describing a life – perhaps a life of wasted talent – but for sure a life of ups and downs. I composed this poem in 30 minutes, where sometimes it takes me a day or two.