Saturday, June 27, 2009

An Ode to a Cool Cat

I know this may be blasphemy

it may even be unkind

but I’m not going to miss Michael Jackson

or Farrah Fawcett.

Nope, neither one.

Their Lights shown brightly for the world

to see and their fountains of success

poured out for others to drink from,

if you know what I mean.

But they’re gone now

and how will we remember them?

Michael as the amazing entertainer

(and the creepy child molester)

Farrah as the chick with the hair

and the red bikini.  


No, I won't miss them.

You know who I do miss right now?

I know it’s silly, maybe,

but I miss Mr. Rogers.

I do. I really do.


He was the coolest of cats

the most serene of dudes.

He was all about

“No Drama” before Obama

even thought of picking up a basketball.

Mr. Rogers, man, that cat

always told you what he thought

he’d sit with you and be with you

and tell you just how things are.

He’d play a little jazz for ya, just enough

to make you want more.

He’d have friends over for quiet little visits

and look into their eyes and just be

fully present for them.

All Mr. R’s drama lived in that funny little

"Land of Make Believe" with that cranky little king

And sweet little Daniel Stri-ped Tiger.


I could use a little Mr. Rogers right now

singing his cutesy little songs about

taking my time and doing things right

and not rushing through an experience

or a sensation or a feeling

or you know, a life

just to get to the next one.


I could use a little Mr. Rogers right now. 

Maybe I even want to be Mr. Rogers

right now.

Chill out, I’d say.  Relax, man.

All is well, dude, all is well

And all manner of things will be well. 

June 27, 2009 

1 comment:

  1. Oh, thank-you for this. I love Mr. Rogers too. I wrote a poem about him once as well.