Appeal Of Aeppel
Contributed by Robert Lyons
Johnathan Smith, the Northern Spy,
Lonely Gravenstien, cold Baldwin,
Macoun from Cortland, the Empire of Fuji
Fast from Mutsu to gain Liberty.
Ginger Golden, Delicious Honeycrisp, Pink Lady
To avoid the doctor, eat one daily.
“A REAL COFFEE GUY”
Contributed By John Martin
I'M JUST A REGULAR
KIND OF COFFEE GUY
NO SUGAR, NO CREAMER AND
NO DECAF TO TRY
IT IS GOT TO BE STRONG
AND REALLY DARK BROWN
DON'T EVEN HURT
IF IT IS LACED WITH GROUNDS
BEST IF IT IS SERVED
IN OLD CROCKERY MUGS
GOTTA BE CAREFUL
OF MAKESHIFT JUGS
I'M OFTEN OUT
AND ON THE GO
BUT NOT WITHOUT
MY CUP OF JOE
LOTS OF NEW PLACES
WITH FANCY BREWS TO TRY
BUT NOT FOR A REGULAR
COFFEE GUY
WHATEVER YOU DO
DON'T GET ME TO GO
TO ONE OF THOSE PLACES
THAT FEATURES EXPRESSO
AND JUST AS BAD
ALONG THE WAY
IS ONE OF THOSE PLACES
THAT BOASTS OF IT'S LATTE
AND ANOTHER PLACE
NEVER TO GO
IS ANY OLDE SHOPPE
SERVING CAPPUCCINO
GOURMET TASTERS
WHO DALLY TO BUY
GET OUT OF THE WAY
OF THE "REAL COFFEE GUY"
A Misérables Time
Contributed by Nan Potts
When asked, “Help with production?”
My acceptance was, “For sure!”
Who’d pass the opportunity,
With “Les Mis”, the crucial lure?
Assigned to be Prop Mistress,
I then stitched and painted, too.
Arousing humble skills, did toil,
With a budget, I’d make do.
Rehearsals called me to task,
Creating crafty pieces.
Messenger brings a note to me,
“Need rifles, can be leases.”
When theater bound, I then find
I’m tagged to stage-right, manage.
Well, add it to my many hats,
I’m at a “Go-fer’s” vantage.
With stage set, I don earphones
And a mic; in comm with Tech.
Communing all throughout the show,
To avoid a wretched wreck!
Stage Manager’s acknowledged,
Along with Sound and Lighting,
Their running commentaries state
Their skills and bit of skiting.
While focused on my duties,
I hear chatter in my ear,
“That was good! Oh, that was bad!
What’s that?” I wish not to hear.
I know their view is better
Than mine here amongst the wings.
The sets create a narrow view
‘Tween large props and other things.
The property is bulky,
Stacked, packed snugly in my space -
All set for the Cast’s convenience,
On stage, for them to place.
House lights dim, I rush to place
And bash shin into a door.
In silent pain, I hobble off —
“That thing wasn’t there before!”
Striking cue, the band ensues,
I am stationed at the rope.
To raise the bulky stage curtain,
I need Muscles, that’s my trope.
We heave and pull rapidly.
In places, on stage, the Cast.
The huge drape’s up, I lock in place;
Opening Night’s here at last!
More players, men and women,
Gifted youth, await their call;
Are now prepared to go on stage
To lay tables, chairs and all.
What happens next, pure magic;
A true metamorphosis.
The energetic youth transform -
Misérables pathosis.
Their voices peal with passion;
History ripe with trials and crimes.
At end of day, lives portrayed
Through a myriad of rhymes.
The stage Sound Tech, who’s Muscles,
Makes Cast changes with the mics;
Off on one, placed on some other -
With switch made, Sound says he likes!
The set changes, o’re and o’re;
Redress, then dress another.
Costumes mount upon my table -
Not caring what they smother!
A player asks, “Where’s my prop?”
Distraught with consternation.
I snatch the clothing and we search,
“Not here!” boosts my frustration.
Intermission, curtain down -
No rest, for I must reset.
The battle and accoutrements,
Act Two’s climax, to be met.
Curtain up, bright lighting flash,
Synced reports of guns fired.
Bodies drop, in slo-mo they die,
Epic, to be admired.
Again, the final scramble,
Now placed for the final scene.
Another death, but hope’s renewed,
Youth carrying on a dream.
The finale - actors file,
One by one, onto the stage.
They sing of dreams and future bright;
Hearts have nullified the rage.
The spotlight hits the players -
Their cue, execute a bow.
Acknowledge tech folk and the crowd,
This applause they share, allow.
Cheers permeate the theater,
The audience stands with verve.
Muscles and I haul on the line,
The memories we’ll preserve.
Curtain down, we then high-five
And go about one’s duty -
She coils cables awaiting cast,
Donning mics, her prized booty.
I pick up props that have strayed
Whilst the Cast lingers briefly.
They then rush out, their friends to meet,
The laud from peers, longed chiefly.
I sign-off on my comm-line
And my headset, I remove.
The audience disbands and leaves,
Mics returned by Cast, approve.
We strike the set, chaos reigns
As frail walls come tumbling down.
The final act, the final show,
Showcased talent in this town.
Two hours pass, change occurs;
Empty stage and marred black floor.
Stone buildings and worn battlements -
Took weeks to build, stand no more.
The eerie sound of silence,
Occupies this artsy realm.
Darkness, I grab my coat and sigh,
“I can’t wait to see the film!”
