Monthly Archives: May 2012

Not Quite Campbell’s…

Cauldron wide and hungry,

You will be used today.

My stomach growls; It’s rumbly.

My hair is turning gray.

If I don’t make an antidote

For this sickness, oh so grim

Then as a ghost, away I’ll float.

Yes cauldron, let’s begin.

 

First we’ll add some pepper,

then three strong legs of toad.

The teardrops of a lepper,

And dust from a windy road.

We’ll toss in eye of rabbit,

The gizzard of my neighbor,

The vegetables of an abbot,

And the figurative fruits of labor.

 

I toss in something to slicken

The consistency of this great brew.

Then I toss in an extra-large chicken,

And I gaze joyfully at this stew.

Finally, some soap that smells fruity,

And a rhino’s pustulous poop!

My antidote’s the epitome of beauty:

A witch’s homemade chicken soup.

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Coincidence (The Ballad of Spike)

Their was a young duckling

And a small piglet suckling,

Both unaware of the other.

They were quite alike,

Since they both were named Spike,

And they both had a father and mother.

 

While Spike the pig

Grew up really big

And eventually turned into sausage.

The duckling, who’s wiser

Is a financial adviser

Who tells wealthy clients of lossage.

 

What a strange happenstance

That despite circumstance

The Spikes never did meet each other.

The pig never learned

That a gold, swimming bird

Had also a father and mother.

 

And the duckling named Spike

He never did hike

or fly past his name-sharer’s farm. Uh…

I think that it’s neat

that the two didn’t meet.

This is solid proof that there’s Karma.

 

Coincidence is fun that way.

That Spike, pig, to duck didn’t say,

“Why hello there chap.

You’ve got wings that can flap,”

Before good duckling Spike flew away.

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Dirty Theo’s Happy Day

Theodore walked down the street

Wearing nothing but a smile.

Several people stared at him,

and several thought it was vile.

 

He grinned at children, moms and dads

And single people too.

He stuck his tongue out, licked his lips,

And knelt to take a poo.

 

Someone called the cops, they say,

‘Cause police arrived in minutes.

They chased Theo through the fray

And tried their best to pin it.

 

But towards the altercation

A tough young lad had stepped.

He said “That’s my dalmation.

He got out from where he was kept.”

 

So the police turned over Theo,

and the lad was justly fined.

That’s my tale.  Now I can see yo’

Have a dirty mind.

 

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Inspiration and Haiku

I write to you, dear reader

To tell you of my needs.

I tried to write 3 posts before this

But my mind found infertile seeds.

I thought of writing of decency

A poem of colors or love.

My fingers they typed, but alas and alack,

I received no great thoughts from above.

Today I will make a petition,

Just in case this lapse happens again.

If you want to inspire a poet,

Please leave me a thoughtful comment.

To make up for this otherwise,

Rather lackluster request,

I wrote you down a haiku

That you read when you need to get dressed:

Pull you pants on first.

Next put on a shirt or blouse.

Socks go on your hands.

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Memorial Day

A million, trillion years ago
A youngish caveman said,
“When to a person’s head there comes a blow,
They often wind up dead.”
He hoped that other cavemen noticed
His club’s wondrous power,
As he set off, entirely focused
On seizing social power.

Yet somehow we have not evolved
Beyond this caveman’s reason.
And when problems need to be resolved
We make it hunting season.
We no longer clobber with our clubs
But kill with guns and grenades.
Wouldn’t we be happier just giving love
Over cups of lemonades?

Until we learn that violence,
While effective, is sub-par,
We’re doomed to act like cavemen, since
Instead of talking, we spar.
But there is a time for everything
And while war’s go on, we’ll fight.
So long as America, of freedom, does sing
We’ll be free, clad in blue, red, and white.

This poem turned out seriously,
A fact I am not proud of.
So cheer for our veterans quite cheeriously
And start clubbing your neighbors with love.

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Welcome

Welcome, dear reader, to my blog’s first post

On which terrible poems reside.

These travesties will likely, though I don’t mean to boast,

Cause you to wish you have died.

Alas you are living, and still reading this,

A fact that makes one of us happy.

If it is you, then I manage to murmur and hiss

That I’m pleased you don’t find this post crappy.

Since this post is my first, prudent it is

To explain what this blog soon will hold.

Things that will make your mind bubble and fizz

And some amusing things too, I am told.

A poem a day is this man’s noble goal,

And I’ll endeavor my best to comply.

But the hour is late, and it’s taking its toll,

so ’til tomorrow, dear reader, good bye!

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