all about Chuck

Charlie Brown Person Poem

I'm known as wishy washy,
And I know my stomach's a bit squashy,
I have small dotted eyes,
And I don't know how to tie ties.

I tried to be a ghost for Halloween,
But I looked like a screen,
I got all rocks,
Pigpen thought he was as sly as a fox.

My baseball team looses,
We always have to make excuses,
Lucy doesn't stay in right field,
Her mouth needs to be sealed.

Advice only costs a nickel,
5¢ per mood - fickle,
Lucy never gives advice,
She just collects the price.

They say I'm a blockhead,
Sometimes I wish I were dead,
Lucy's worse,
But she'll pull my hearse.

I've always loved that girl,
The one with red haired whirl,
I wanted to ask her to dance,
But Snoopy stole my chance.

Sally is my sister,
She can be much like a blister,
She loves Linus,
She thinks he's just full of shyness.

Wishy washy, you should not be,
In the same way at least as me,
Never let your spirit die,
And don't ever lie.

♥♥♥

Peanuts Love

You are my Charlie Brown
And I, your Peppermint Patty.
"You kinda like me don't ya, Chuck?"
I ask, you always reply, "Good Grief."
I am your Lucy, my heroic Schroeder.
As your number one fan,
I sit forever at the end of your piano.
I admire you, you reply, "Good Grief."
In my heart, you are the fair Linus
To my Sally. I want to be
The blanket that you hold so close.
You are my sweet baboo, you scream, "Good Grief!"
Oh, my Charlie Brown
How I wish I were
The little redheaded girl
That holds your heart, unknowingly.

♥♥♥

You're such a good man, Charlie Brown.

You're such a good man Charlie Brown.
Thats why folks like having you around.
Don't listen to Lucy; She'll get you down.
She'll raise that football off the ground.
You're a blockhead with a head so round?
Trust Lucy even on the pitcher's mound?
Lucy's advice really isn't all that sound.
I would think twice; Others can be found.
There is no need to leave your small town.
You're such a good man Charlie Brown.

♥♥♥

Stop Dating Psychos, Charlie Brown


There I was, having a night out
I saw you were different,
we discussed it over coffee.
Cute, fiesty, and a sense of humor.
I could relate.
All I did for four months was act to supress your white-hot rage.
Stop dating psychos, Charlie Brown.
I'm sorry your childhood sucked, so did mine.
I'm sorry you're addicted to coricidin, I really am.
But your art scares me.
I, myself, am "outside the box"
But do you really need to sit there in stony silence?
To run off and sulk like an old, passive-agressive goat?
Stop dating psychos, Charlie Brown!
I don't need to know about you.
I don't need to see your pain.
Do I really need to ask if you're a nazi sympathizer?
Do I really need to know if you, in the slightest way, are capable of interacting with another human being on a positive level?
Stop dating psychos, Charlie Brown.
Go off, and do your own thing.
I'll be right here, doing mine.
Go off, and stew in bitter rage.
I'll be fine.
What you've told me with your actions, what you've exposed to me with your life, is one tiny pearl of truth:
Stop dating psychos, Charlie Brown.

♥♥♥

Damn You, Charlie Brown

From the site As the moon climnbs by Velreir Valdes
I am tired of being coy.
Every time I convince you to kick the football
I convince myself that I will let you.
Somewhere between the last quick footsteps
before you reach me kneeling in the grass,
I change my mind. You fall again.
Watching you lie on the ground, I want
to help you up, or throw myself on you,
let my dark curly hair fall onto your face,
kiss your bare round head.
Instead I set up a sign scrawled in marker,
charge a nickel to tell you
how stupid you are, wearing the same yellow shirt
every day for as long as I’ve known you,
obsessed with a red-haired girl
who doesn’t know you’re alive. No matter
how much I batter your self esteem,
you never seek consolation in my arms.
Don’t you know anything about women?
I even pretend I’m in love with someone else,
a musician; you should be jealous of his talent—
your dog hovers around his piano
probably more than he bothers with you.
He has much more hair, this guy,
and it’s blond. His hands are strong,
he would never try to kick my football
over and over again—they say insanity
is repeating the same behavior expecting a different outcome.
Whoever they are, they must have seen you
playing baseball every spring, haunting
the pitcher’s mound like some demented ghost,
losing forty to nothing or worse,
watching ball after ball fly
far beyond your meager grasp—
me in the outfield, shouting, waving my arms,
waiting for you to notice me.

♥♥♥

The Untold Story of Charles Brown
and the Girl with the Red Hair

What's wrong, Charles
The girl with red hair asked as she sat on the bench next to him
And opened her lunch.

It has been a rough week
Charles began.
Linus has a tumor - Sally's been sick.
Lucy has been too busy with Schroeder to set up her psychiatrist stand
When I finally needed it.
I can't understand the grownups.
Or grownup problems.

She took his hand, and they lay down on the grass.
And the little red haired girl just held him.

And they drifted off to sleep.

Charles concentrated on the rhythmic tickle of her breath on the back of his neck
And the years of yearning that had been bottled up
Bubbled and churned and swirled. But-
Chalking it up to heartburn-
He slid beyond the waking world and dreamed.

He felt the innocent brush of her lips on his
And believed he was still dreaming.
The world around him exploded.
His cares, thrown from his mind
Like a half-eaten tuna sandwich,
His Nostrils burned with the scent of her
And dolphin safe fish.
And night rose, and pressed its cold wet nose against the two, and they drew closer,
Huddled together under the safety of Linus' blanket.
And the little red haired girl just held him.

In the morning, Woodstock sang,
and the dog flew his house to World War One Germany
And the little red haired girl was gone-
And Charles finally knew what "Good Grief" was.



*** may be that teeny weeny envy feeling on Bok's Charlie Brown mouse which came with her new notebook (which she bought last night) ... or that slight sensational blushing from yesterday's MMS in real time ;), TWO! Uploading them later at FB altar :) together with that snapshot from CMPC planning. :) Or baby is it the cold, breezy Wednesday rain?

And may be that arresting discussion on .... jeeezzzzz ... a new wheel huh ... an old wheel, old wheels and new rolling wheel ... wheel!

Judgment Day!

“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter.” ... Bok, this one's for your occasional BFF ;) ... jusz tell him,

"No sweat. It doesn't really matter, anyway. " ;)

In life there are three things you don't hesitate on, 1) the genuinely important or urgent or both 2) what is right 3) love


Good grief!