High Energy (A Poem)

By Ellie Mangle-Lero


Billy Was A Tad Hyperactive!

To see just how hyperactive, hit this link!


Oh Hai!

I know this is belated, but I was so busy on Friday celebrating the liberation of all God’s Gay Creatures to marry and procreate that I forgot to do my weekly poem! Today, I wanted to do a poem about my 6 year old grandchild. He immediately popped into mind when I read about the horribly racist murder of Freddie Gray in Baltimore. The autopsy blamed the death on “high energy.” Oh boy, do I ever know a lot about “high energy!” Duh! See: Billy! That high energy stuff can kill a person for sure!

Unlike his older brother, who has been on a Vegan diet since he was two, and seems rather listless for a child his age, Billy is just a bundle of energy. At the time of his birth, my daughter and her mating partner were living on a commune, and when it came time to go to the hospital for the delivery, there was some delay in getting the 1988 Subaru Justy out of the mud. The way I hear tell, all four wheels were spinning like crazy, and mud and a greenish-black sludgy effluent from the compost pond was flying everywhere and getting on everybody! Anyway, Little Billy was born right there, in the back seat of the Justy, and covered by all the gook (The organic kind, not the Asian kind. That would be racist!) from the pond.  So maybe he was exposed to something? Who knows?

Well, Little Billy is just the most high energy child you ever saw. One minute he is swinging from the drapes like an endangered Orangutan, and the next minute he is humping the ottoman like a frisky little puppy! He never slows down until we give him two or three tablespoonfuls of bubblegum flavored Benadryl. Then he goes right to sleep just like a little angel, although he does twitch and jerk a lot during his sleep, and makes strange howling sounds.

Anyway, without further ado, here is today’s humorous, good natured little poem, which I hope you will all find uplifting!

High Energy!

Billy, oh Billy, you dear little child!
Oh, what in the world makes you act so wild?
You leap from the floor to swing on the drapes,
And make enough noise for a troop full  of apes!

You jump on the ottoman, hump it like mad.
What is that strange little smile you just had?
You roll on the floor, you jump on the beds!
Some people would think you are off of your meds!

I chase you around with my cane in the air,
And threaten to spank you on your derriere!
However, I doubt that a spanking would faze you-
I wonder if it would be legal to taze you???

Then, I have to tackle you, and hold you still,
To get you to swallow the pink Benadryl!
You suck on your thumb, as towards Dreamland you fall,
While I ponder if I should switch to Adderall???

Ellie Mangle-Lero

About Penelope Dreadful

An attorney, with a rye sense of humor.
This entry was posted in Children's Issues, Ellie Mangle-Lero Posts, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to High Energy (A Poem)

  1. I don’t agree with medicating boys, however it’s a cute poem.


  2. Nick Spinelli says:

    Great poem. I’m thinking of the great Warren Zevon’s, Excitable Boy.


  3. Nick Spinelli says:

    Inga Annie is going nuts @ Turley’s. She has threatened my wife and accused me of molesting my daughter while me wife enabled. So, if anyone thinks she’s just a harmless crazy cat lady, think otherwise. She is paranoid. She thinks I “investigate” her, which I do not. A couple years ago a person who knows her VERY well reached out to me via email. This person HATES Inga. All that means is the person is standing in a very long line. Anyway, this person tells me all kinds of stuff about Inga. I have learned being a PI for over 30 years, sources can be a pain in the ass and this source can be a royal pain. I keep the person @ arms length, responding to emails only on occasion now. The source, like Inga, has serious issues as well. When Inga is compulsively posting photos like she has been the past couple days, she’s in a manic/agitated state. She had about 20 comments from last night deleted on the SSM thread.


  4. Shadow says:


    Tell Squeaky I think she is amazing, a self-sustaining force and an internet buzzsaw. How many Squeekys (Squeekies?) are there? When does she have the time to play guitar, dance, work, and just go to the store?

    Love the poem.


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