Cavalcade of Cliché, 23

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.

Variety Show

“Variety’s the spice of life”—

Or so the saying goes.

But I am not the least convinced

That anybody knows—

For sure—the truth of this. For I

Cannot, I’ve learned, now wean

Myself from habits, firmly formed.

“The Dean of Pure Routine”—

Yes, that is I. From dawn to dark,

From year to year to year,

I’ve picked predictability.

Philosophy? Or fear?

Cavalcade of Cliché, 22

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.

Sinful

So I woke up in hell—not a total surprise

To find out what a place I am in.

In the distance—Medusa—I knew her by sight,

And of course she was ugly as sin.

“You’re attractive,” I told her. (No harm in a lie?

But attractive? Of course she was not.)

But I didn’t deceive her with this in the flames:

“Oh, Medusa, your snake look’s so hot!”

Cavalcade of Cliché, 21

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

A Load of Bull

William has an old saying—his speech it adorns.

Here it is: “Take the bull by the horns.”

The effect of this saying? The hordes have been bored.

And poor William, you know? He was long ago gored. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 20

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Peels of Joy

Well, my second banana was worse than the first.

And in fact I must say it was worse than the worst.

It was soft; it was bruised. And it had a bad smell.

Oh, the second banana did not go too well.

But I then tried a third one—bananas are cheap.

And this last one was splendid … (this poem ain’t deep).

There’s just too much banana—each part and the whole.

I should write about fruit with a great deal more soul.

(Naahhhh.)

Cavalcade of Cliché, 19

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

The Reigning Cliché

We all have used that saying, yes?

“It’s raining cats and dogs.”

A much more pleasant saying than,

“It’s raining skunks and hogs.”

But even if it’s raining hard—

Right here, right now, today—

I wish that we could stop the reign

Of cats-and-dogs cliché!

Cavalcade of Cliché, 18

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Doe Love

When poor Darla (the doe) felt unlovely—unloved—

She decided to alter her luck.

So she pranced through the woods, where she found a sad male,

And then Darla succeeded: She made a quick buck.

Now you tell me the truth—don’t you really prefer

This sweet story of Darla and sex

To some story of Wall Street and trading and such—

All that finance is far too complex!

Cavalcade of Cliché, 17a

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

17. Necking 2

She awoke in the night to the flutter of wings—

And her heart fluttered too at the sound of such things.

So she thought, “It’s a bat that’s disturbing my night.”

In the morning her neck showed the marks of a bite.

’Twas a pain in the neck—from a vampire, she guessed.

So she flew to join Dracula (permanent pest!).

Then she joined vampire flocks and she drank from the flood

Of their favorite drink—yes, those rivers of blood!

Cavalcade of Cliché, 17

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Necking

When the cop shined his light on the lovers at work,

They both stopped all the groping, said, “Who is this jerk?!”

But the guy had a hickey—the cop looked to check.

So the guy learned the source of the pain in his neck. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 16

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Head Lines

I was there, and I heard it—I heard what you said.

You declared that you spoke off the top of your head.

But the trouble with this? A short comment explains:

See, the top of your head is the home of your brains.

But from what you declared—and what all of us heard?

Well, the top of your head must contain a lost bird.

Cavalcade of Cliché, 15

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Necessary Roughness?

“A necessary evil”—Let’s

Expatiate a little bit.

It’s what a dire opponent gets

For giving us annoying ***t.

And so we nuke the dreary dude—

Or trash him via cyberspace.

It’s what he gets for being rude—

Forgetting what’s his proper place.

We hide our evils in cliché.

Thus words diminish what we do,

For we can always find a way

To pour our poison over you.

Cavalcade of Cliché, 14

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Male Man

He screamed, “You guys just mailed it in!”

In coach religion: Deadly Sin,

For how can you expect to win

When you display a goofy grin,

A grin that says, “It’s just a game.”

Yes, Loser-grinners take the blame.

This is not new; it’s been the same

Since Winners found pervasive fame.

But to the coach I’d always say,

“A Winner doesn’t use cliché”—

A sentence that, to my dismay,

Convinced the coach I should not play. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 13

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Oh, Henry!

They called him “Hen,” not “Henry,” for

They didn’t think it was a sin.

They threw him in a reservoir,

And made him “mad as a wet Hen.”

Cavalcade of Cliché, 12

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Dogged

When he saw that the dog was asleep on the porch,

He imagined a moment—a dog with a guy.

Oh, but petting that dog was igniting a torch—

And this was the birth of “let sleeping dogs lie.”

OR …

There’s no reason his folks named their little boy “Dog.”

But it made that poor child so unhappy he’d weep.

He could not tell the truth—and he slept like a log.

So his folks, when they could, let a lying Dog sleep. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 11

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Kiss Off

There is an old expression that

I really do not like too well.

It's one I now seek to combat.

You know it: “Do not kiss and tell.”

And now when someone says that line—

That line so foul, that line so fell—

At first I feel so saturnine,

But then I start to hiss and yell!

Cavalcade of Cliché, 10

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Better Lip Service Needed

When young George met his wife, they seemed joined at the hip.

But what started it all? There were joined at the lip.

Oh, we certainly know how love often begins—

There’s attraction, of course, and some subsequent sins.

But each love is unique, and each has its own ways.

So when talking of love, we should shun all clichés.

Cavalcade of Cliché, 9

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Differ Tiff

“I beg to differ,” he just said—

I tried not wishing he were dead.

Inside my brain—a different song:

“Not ‘differ,’ Dude—you’re ******g wrong!”

Cavalcade of Cliché, 8

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Happy, Snappy

You're “happy as a clam,” you say?

I've got some news for you today:

If you are happy as a clam,

I really do not give a damn.

How happy can a small clam be,

Down on the bottom of the sea

Where SpongeBob lives—so many wrongs,

And all those Little Mermaid songs.

I rather live here on the land—

As happy as rubber band,

For when I hear clichés and crap,

I stretch myself—and then I snap!

Cavalcade of Cliché, 7

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Edgy

To “get a word in edgewise” once,

I guess, was clever, witty, wry,

But now it’s old, and just a dunce

Would think he was a crafty guy

To use it. Where’s a synonym

We can employ? We need it now—

Although I know the chance is slim—

Before we break the language bough

And fall to earth, right in the dust,

As inarticulate as sheep.

So think of synonyms—a must!—

Before cliché puts all to sleep!

Cavalcade of Cliché, 6

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Whether Weather

“She’s a fair-weather friend”—this he said of his wife.

And there’s no better proof than their marital strife.

If you must check the weather for how it will be,

Then perhaps a divorce might be better (you’ll see).

But from my point of view, if you choose such clichés,

Well, then Satan is near—it’s the End of All Days. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 5

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Peace of Pie

I’m a man on a mission—a weird sort of guy

Who is tired of “he’s dreaming of pie in the sky.”

So  I think we should bury it—put it to bed—

For expressions—like people—should sometimes be dead. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 4

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Scuttling Door Nails

“It was dead as a door nail”[1]—that’s such an odd phrase

And we’re not really sure what it means.

Now it’s meaning is lost and we’re puzzled, I know—

As we are by the slang of our teens.

And so what do you say? Should we scuttle[2] the thing?

(And, yes, scuttle’s another that’s died.)

Or just calmly accept that some things will confuse

When the past and the present collide?

---

[1] a large-headed nail formerly used for strengthening or ornamenting doors.

[2] to sink (a vessel) deliberately by opening seacocks or making openings in the bottom; 1490-1500; perhaps ≪ Spanish escotilla hatchway, equivalent to escot (e) a cutting of cloth (< Gothic skaut seam; akin to sheet1) + -illa diminutive suffix

Cavalcade of Cliché, 3a

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.) 

Chase Place 2

I pursue you—with knife!

You’re afraid for your life.

Will I slice up your gut?

It’s a chase to the cut. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 3

Chase Place

I hate “cut to the chase,” for it wrinkles my face,

And is such a disgrace I would love to embrace

A synonym. 

Cavalcade of Cliché, 2

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

Dotard in the Woods

So “a babe in the woods”? It is time to retire,

For expressions like this are past due to expire.

For we have, as you know, many synonyms for

This locution that now has become such a bore.

Like “naïve” (yes, a good one) and “tyro” (a noun)—

I wish they were common in country and town.

And that babe in the woods? Well, I think you'll allow

All the years that have passed—he's a geezer by now. 

Cavalcade of Cliché , 1

(A parade of words and phrases eligible for retirement.)

I heard it from your lying lips:

“All’s fair,” you said, “in love and war.”

I offer you some tasty sips

Of hemlock … Now you know the score.

The poison of your daily acts—

The poison of the things you say—

Has changed the rendering of “facts”

In dictionaries of today.

And “all” cannot be truly fair,

For “fair” demands an open heart,

And if you do not really care,

Relationships will fall apart. 

Words, Words, Twaddle, 50

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

Skilled

You're looking for someone who has

The “skill set” that you say you need:

Some PowerPoint and all that jazz—

Excel would help, oh, yes indeed!

You probably don’t want to hear

About the person you should find,

Someone who has both tongue and ear—

And has an educated mind.

I have a skill set, you should know—

I am a man of many parts.

I know about explosives, Yo,

Am talented in martial arts.

So when I hear the junk you say,

I calculate your body mass;

I plan a dynamite display,

But first, of course, I kick your ass. 

Words, Words, Twaddle, 49

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

A Clarification

They hired you here, or so you’ve said,

To “disambiguate.”

But large words only seem to change

A small into a great.

For just behind those syllables—

And this you know is true—

Sits someone unimpressive, and

In this case, well, it’s you.

Words, Words, Twaddle, 48

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.) 

Measuring Up?

“Assessment” is the word these days

In school. It forever plays

In conversations about kids

And how they learn. And it forbids—

Or limits—talk about the art

Of teaching to the human heart.

Though learning’s more than measurement,

We have no choice but to lament.

These days there’s little to discuss:

Assessment drives the school bus. 

Words, Words, Twaddle, 47

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

Harping Again?

You said, “We should up-skill the staff!”

Then smiled in pride at your own words.

I stood and held the hot carafe

And thought about those mythic birds—

The harpies! Yes, I’d summon them

And tell them of a man in need

Of shredding. They’d swoop in on him,

And soon they would begin to feed.

But that’s too hard—would some giraffe

Attempt to solve some Sherlock case?

And then I looked at the carafe …
How would hot coffee shut his face?

Hmmmmmm … ?

Words, Words, Twaddle, 46

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

 Ace in Its Place

And so “aces … their places”? You’re going with that?

Well, you should reconsider: The sound of ker-SPLAT

Could soon be in your future—so not long from now,

You will hear from a hit man a POW Pow Pow POW!

And the last thing you’ll think? “Oh now I am disgraced!”

Cuz I misused the language and now I’ve been aced!”

Words, Words, Twaddle, 45

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

Grounded

“We need boots on the ground”—oh, you said it again!

And it made me forget what a Good Guy I’ve been.

So I found an old minefield—“Let’s go for a stroll!”

But to see an explosion was really my goal.

And as soon as it happened, I looked all around,

And, well, all that I saw were your boots on the ground.