By Charles Anderson (Chuck)

Ah, you Asians are an unusual race
Send funny notes, but hard to meet face to face.
You’re shy, they’re shy, I’m shy
but no way anyone can live up to Lisa’s talk of a helluva guy.

But another splendid day to grind out at ACDC
The music, the booze, and back stage passes all for free.
No wait, that is a group of a different kind
You all just have Jeremy to make you lose your mind. 

No response can do the original poem justice
The humor and the warmth make meeting Michael a must for us,
And so with a hearty laugh and a joyful tear on my cheek.
I proclaim that Lisa and Michael to be the most delightful of freaks.

===

About the poet: Charlie (“Chuck”) Anderson is my coworker Lisa’s special friend all the way from North Kingstown, Rhode Island. He hails from somewhere in Michigan, and from what I’ve been told, he’s a passionate follower of Detroit-based sports franchises. To me, his predilection (or as others may say, passion) for following sports teams that usually end up on the losing side of the scoreboard is what led to my line about questioning his intelligence. But I mean this in jest, of course.

This is his response to me, sent over e-mail. I am actually a bit interested in this idea of exchanging lines; it reminds me of the show, Yo Momma, but with a much friendlier, family-oriented, and witty tone. 

Again, if you’d like to be featured on Michael Chen Poetry, please send me an e-mail. 

By David Atkinson (Frozone)

“Two or three?” he asked.  Met with equal confusion they sighed.
“Six or seven?” she inquired of the group.  They were supposed to
help.  It wasn’t like it was their job, though because for the longest time
time and time again they could not open the mailbox to receive a check.
Predictions only go so far, but they are strengthened with experience and turn
Into theories which can turn into facts written in papers and on slides to be
Shown in halls between six walls-
and then he gets to open the mailbox and get his check.

They stay there and look at the faces
of others to see what they say and in a way wish the problem had
an answer that wasn’t so far away.  Arms can’t reach it.  That’s been proven.
None can teach it.
But
there is a solution.
At least they’ve become friends.

“Two or three?” he asked.  Met with equal confusion they sighed.
“Six or seven?” she inquired of the group.  They had
no clue and then flipped their switches on so that they could stand a chance.
Predictions plus the switch functions as a delta function functions.  Nothing
becomes something.  Greek becomes
English or English speakers become bilingual, either way there is understanding.
Superposition is applied to group knowledge such that
solutions are reached.  Maybe the bond is here.  Maybe the bond is when superposition
leads to error because local coordinates aren’t translated to global.
And everything falls down
together.

Either way a different set of six walls are waiting.  And those mailboxes are waiting, too.
If there’s no switch the delta won’t get activated because time for some goes
from here to there at a steady pace, but time for others goes forward at a rate that never allows it to reach a certain spot in time
in the future.  The time before where the switch gets turned on.
Here they speak Greek in different dialects, but they’re still friends.

===

About the poet: David Atkinson is a student at Brown University studying to become a real engineer. I had the pleasure of meeting David a few years ago. During this time, Disney had released a digital animated film, The Incredibles, and somebody had the wisdom to recognize that David looked exactly the same as the character Frozone in the movie. The fact that David was sporting a fro during all this time only helped us affirm his new pseudonym. Later on, when the fro transformed into cornrows (like Allen Iverson), David added Cornzone as an additional reference. Hopefully, we will not have to see Baldzone one day – you know I respect you, right?

He has his own person webspace somewhere out there; please feel free to Google-stalk as you wish. Thank you for sharing your poetry with us, Frozone.

Are you just a figment of her imagination?
Or will we meet in person and let things come to fruition?
I’ve heard that you’re tucked away in Rhode Island
But Chuck, don’t you want to honeymoon in Thailand?

I know where you live, cuz I saw it on Google Map
Your no show at Comedy Night made me cry and my lips chap
I heard you’re a big fan of DVDs and the movie
But please consider supporting ACDC with your money

I feel real bad for you and the Detroit Lions
Don’t you love it when Kitna gets picked and still makes millions
Maybe it’s time to switch your allegiance
Or we’ll have to re-evaluate your intelligence

Oh Chuck, do you know what’s coming at the end of May?
No it’s not a wedding, but it’ll make you pay
Next time you pick up Lisa, please bring food
Otherwise, be prepared to shake my hand and my foul mood.

===

The story behind this piece: My coworker Lisa, who met her boyfriend through an online dating service, seems to be utterly swept away by this dude, Chuck. Nearly everybody in the office is delighted by a daily dosage of Chuck updates on their weekend activities (lots of TV and lounging around) and/or other recreational plans.

But even after a lot of continual pleading from different coworkers, Lisa still persists to withhold the unveiling of Chuck or his picture to anyone. All we know is that he’s this white dude who drives around in a car a lot, and he consumes a lot of beer. Chuck was supposed to attend one of our fundraisers; however, he bailed on us last minute.

I decided to write this poem and e-mail it to him hoping it would encourage him to show his face. To be fair, he did write me a poem-style response (which was very impressive). We’ll have to wait and see if I’ll get to meet white Chuck.

There once was a fine man named Manuel Lam
When I saw him, my heart skipped, and it was like “Bam!”
Square face and lean muscle all over the place
My crush on him is certainly not just a phase

Named as one of the top 10 hot guys of the school
And definitely everywhere he went, he was too cool
Almost had the chance to become a Reebok celebrity
But too bad, he missed it, just didn’t have enough ability

I ask him each day if he’s had a good dump
Sometimes they’re good, but sometimes it’s just a lump
I don’t see how exciting the urology clinic could be
But maybe working with poo just doesn’t appeal that much to me

First you got the Cranston-based photo store
Unbelievably entrepreneurial, now he’s going for more
Somebody once thought his sister was his girlfriend
But thankfully, a few years later, she seems to have transcend

Manny Lammy Manny Lammy, you’re now in the house
Do you like country music and listening to Alison Krauss?
Now that you’ve got the whole sushi store down
Are you going to be next big thing in town?

I really hope to go to your wedding some day
Because it is then when I realize the meaning of “come what may…”
Don’t be too anxious about the modeling gig
Just be thankful that you don’t suck, like the Big Dig.

===

Here’s the background story on this piece: I met my friend Manny Lam way back in 2003 through a school group, and after spending a good amount of time with him as friends (which include a highlight of sleeping on the same bed as him and waking up feeling rather awkward), I came up with some lyrics for him. I can no longer recall the lyrics in its entirety, but what I can say is that there was a slight hint of hip-hop with a tad bit of gangster rap (as gangsta as yours truly, an Asian, could get) infused. Needless to say, although the lyrics were somewhat entertaining (as they certainly were to myself), they lacked substance. 

So as I was chatting with Manny one afternoon, I suddenly felt compelled to come up with a 2008 version. This is why you’ll find that the title above has a “2.0″ appended.