I feel hornswoggled,
and tricked.
I went to a dinner billed
as organic.
I was looking forward
to food extra clean,
something from
one of those magazines
full of people healthy
enough to fly,
women pure,
guys too strong to die.
After sitting down though,
I was filled with dread.
At the top of the menu
was something called
I got a funny feeling,
so I Googled the word.
Something in my stomach
began to churn.
I then bolted for the door
in a full fledged panic
Because I then fully knew
what my friend meant by

© Joel Tipple

Cleaning Up


It’s hard to know what to watch
on television.
Well no, I admit, not really.
Turning it off solves a lot of the problem,
and to tell the truth
so much of it is silly.
But if you want to keep what you view clean
use our time tested patented scheme.
Hire a specialist to assist in keeping the dirt off your tube.
We call ours “Maid for TV.”

She sits in a chair
in the corner of our living room
and when she spies something unsuitable
she moves her thumb into position
and makes a decision most immutable.

She marks whatever it was as trash taken out
before I can utter so much as a shout.
There’s so much of little use,
broadcast these days
that she’s asking for inordinate pay.
So we’re considering unplugging the TV
and sending her on vacation, since it’s
getting so hard to find a clean station.

Now, she’s been gone for some time
and all the while we have snacked
We’ve raided the cupboard and frig so,
our food pyramid is whack.

Soooo… Genius!

Since our Maid for TV
helped us trade it for a book
We’ll trade all our junk food
for a Maid for TV cook!

© Joel Tipple



sometimes when i take the time to be quiet
i feel as though i could float all day
stopping by each of the world’s beaches
to steal a few moments of play
at some point for far too many
growing up and old means we stop
enjoying those breaks
in between oceans of work
and perfecting our frown all day
people notice
in case you hadn’t
whether you don’t smile
or if you do
so pay attention
find a way
to make life fun
even if
fun is new to you

© Joel Tipple

Old Wives’ Tales & Trailer Trash


I’ve some concern over the dearth of questions asked
about expressions like
“old wives tales”
“trailer trash.”
Who decided “old wives”
had the market cornered
on stories without merit,
to be ridiculed and scorned?
Was it old husbands,
with power, but little sense,
who perpetuated that expression
without fear of recompense?

And what about the expression,
“trailer trash?”
Doesn’t this huge judgement
bound up in two words
strike you as rash?
You say, “Well, we all know
who is
who isn’t.”
Do we, now?
Who built this prison?
Now I’ll give you
many people put themselves where they are,
all the while blaming the stars.
But what about those who would reach higher?
Would the label you cherish
assist or hold back
the dreams to which
they aspire?
I refuse to call persons refuse,
though some may throw their lives away.
Where a man lives doesn’t always
measure the size of his heart,
at least I’m pretty sure
that’s what God says.

© Joel Tipple

21-24 But in our time something new has been added. What Moses and the prophets witnessed to all those years has happened. The God-setting-things-right that we read about has become Jesus-setting-things-right for us. And not only for us, but for everyone who believes in him. For there is no difference between us and them in this. Since we’ve compiled this long and sorry record as sinners (both us and them) and proved that we are utterly incapable of living the glorious lives God wills for us, God did it for us. Out of sheer generosity he put us in right standing with himself. A pure gift. He got us out of the mess we’re in and restored us to where he always wanted us to be. And he did it by means of Jesus Christ.
Romans 3:21-24 The Message



i’ve got memories that live

outside my little mind

and when I’m old and feeble

the good ones will refuse to die

they’ll just go on blooming

like an old homestead’s roses would

and passers by will wonder

just how on earth they could

but when the soil’s reclaimed all else

their beauty in season will show

that’s how my memories of you will linger

as the petals come and go

© Joel Tipple



we’re sail-a-brating
using that
of counting daze
oceans of memories between us
how can we count
the waves?
that have washed through
our story
written in the sand
beach ya we can
make more
walking hand in hand

endless ditties
won’t express my
true emotions
words won’t

so I’ll stop versing now love
to see you
and hold this moment