A young Irish man in his prime
Loved a lassie who gave him a lime.
He said, “Darling Caoimhe,
“I’ll never leave ya.”
And yes, that does actually rhyme.
Quotidian Composition Vitiates…
People say that grammar
Doesn’t matter any more,
That vocabulary’s useless
And english is a bore.
What they do not realize
Is that the word you tried
Might turn a social program
Into massive genocide.
Take this proposition:
“Our mayor, Jim Metcalf
“Will, by 2025
“Cut homelessness in half.”
What a lovely world we’d have
And what a peaceful street
If Mayor Metcalf’s plan above
Was ever made complete!
Alas, the words they wrote instead
Were, “Mayor Jim Metcalf
“Will, within the next five years,
“Cut homeless people in half.”
To some, there’s nothing different.
To some, this sounds just fine
Until you realize just how
The Mayor crossed a line
Because the homeless person
Who was once in Bradley Square
Now has his legs on Main Street
But his torso’s over there!
Stop the death and carnage
And salute the grammar nerds,
For only you can save a life
By choosing proper words.
Filed under Poems
For the rest of you… this is funny because it divides readers into subgroups, then introduces a joke unlikely to be funny to the majority of readers, thereby enhancing the humorous subtext for the small minority of readers who, as the first line implies, appreciate brevity (You’re welcome)
To those who value brevity:
Enjoy ironic levity.
Filed under Poems
Space Travel and the Perils of Mobile Gaming
In yonder black beyond the sky
Where only stars call home
We set the scene for what’s to come
To those who in it roam:
Ten passengers, a crew do make
Of the mighty spaceship, Skeld.
‘Tis on this craft a tale of woe
For you, tonight, is held.
Each crewmate dons a colored suit,
Of yellow, orange, cyan,
Pink, lime, red, black, blue, or green
Else white, violet, or tan.
‘Tween seven and nine are loyal crew
While one to three impostors stalk;
The majority have tasks to do,
Whilst among them evil walks.
Some may vouch for one another
If a task completed be,
While other times they may accuse
One whom with a corpse they see.
The corpse in question comes of course
From the impostor’s dubious deeds:
By fist or gun or alien maw
The tainted crew fulfills their needs.
Anyone can call a meeting
When a body’s finally found
And good and evil, roles unknown
Within the cafe gather round.
A choir of “Where?” Is said by all
Until the meeting’s caller may tell
The identity of the fallen mate
And the room in which they fell.
The rainbow spacemen then take turns
Declaring one another “sus,”
Casting blame without a clue…
Such is the game called “Among Us.”
Whoever’s name is called the most
Is thrown into the great beyond.
This repeats until such time
As evil’s purged or good is gone.
Time then, in mysterious ways,
Returns to whence the quest began.
If you want to live this dream
Download the app and soon you can.
But fear not only those who lurk
As black or pink or red or lime…
Fear the monster of this life
Which is the loss of your free time!
Filed under Poems
To Paraphrase Schopenhauer…
What is true is first a joke,
A bit to please a crowd.
Next the truth is vilified,
Taboo to speak aloud.
At some point it’s said again
By someone very scared
And he is told “That’s obvious”
As if nobody cared.
Filed under Poems
Wear Love Blossoms?
Yew are the tree that sustains me.
U turn the sick to the well.
Ewe are so warm and so fluffy.
I love you although I can’t spell.
You’re poem touched me this evening.
Your the only one I think of now.
Their’s somewhere I know and soon they’re we’ll go
But let’s stick to spoken poems for know.
Filed under Poems
The Ends Justify The Memes
Leisurely athlete
With a camera on her head…
Yo, slow GoPro hoe!
Filed under Poems
Religious Dilemmas
When a Catholic priest goes bad
And wants a little boy
He calls the kid by asking
“You want to have a toy?”
When a Rabbi gets the urge
To get a boy that way
He says, “You want to have a toy?
“If so, you gotta pay!”
Filed under Poems
Adventures With Lucy
Lucy says “Heyy”
As she walks in the door
With a light in her eyes
And her eyes on the floor.
She’s looking for victims
That she can make smile
For she’s also not had
Such a grin for a while.
Lucy’s confused;
She’s alone in the crowd,
Her world always quiet,
Her mind always loud.
She hasn’t found love
In a box on a shelf
But she’s never been told
To bring joy to herself,
And so she goes hunting
A surrogate soul
And she uses her vigor
To make her prey whole,
To make someone laugh
And to make a face gleam
Like the paint on her visage
She hopes makes her seem.
Some think her a clown;
Some think her a doll.
What she fears is being
Not thought of at all,
To be seen as convenient,
Someone’s future “his.”
She fears being seen as
What she fears she is.
She’s found her next target!
She gives them her charm
With a flower in her hair
And the game on her arm,
One of the next many
Whose lives she will brighten,
Whose fears she’ll erase
And whose burdens she’ll lighten.
Someday she’ll look up
And she’ll see the sun set
And her mind will be calm
And her needs will be met;
She’ll live as she dreams
When she comes to someday.
Until then she’ll walk in
And tell someone, “Heyy.”
Filed under Poems
Happy Prime Day (Or My Sense Of Humor When I Stay Up Too Late)
In 36 minutes
The world goes on sale
And you can buy with a click
A big TV
Or game machine
Or even a bigger… machine.
You can spend
With a plastic card
From a company that travels to Venus
But you’ll still seek
A solution to
Your very tiny… bank account.
I didn’t mean
For this poem to be
This amount of long,
But then I thought
Of way too many
Things that rhyme with… ya know?
And so I end
With a big salute
To anyone named Morgan
And wish you
Happy Prime Day
And a poetic male organ.
Filed under Poems
