Category Archives: Poems

The Problem With Democracy (My Perspective Matters More)

“Do you see what I see”

Is a stupid thing to ask,

For though the subject we both see

May be a boot or flask

I see it in the sunset

Flanked by gorgeous fall of night

But by virtue of an angle

You see it framed by walls of white.

I can see what you see

And you can see what I.

We can say “that is a boot”

Though we each use a different eye.

So why not on social matters

Cannot we likewise more agree

That if a thing’s more beautiful

To you than ’tis to me

That the thing itself objectively

Is, regardless, unaffected?

Because it doesn’t help dividers

Unite short-sight to get elected.

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Don’t Let The Faux-Somnolent Diminish Your Importance!

When one says “I must be dreaming”

(Implying you’re something they snoozed)

You should slap them with a chicken

Just to make them more confused.

An alligator also works

But they’re tougher to hide.

Also, if you’re sleepy and poultry-phobic

I find it’s best to stay inside.

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Or Just Misspell A Biblical Name

I see little boys and girls

With very unique names

Like Cadence, Weston, Apple, Peityn,

Lembas, Crêpe, and Flames.

Now if your name is “Flames” you’re fine,

But “Crookshanks…” not so much.

So here are some modern names

I think are better much:

Verity, Sanity, Clamperl, Spore,

Visigoth, Boromir, Wikstrom, Implore,

Magnitude, Honeydunce, Kraftool, Parade.

Name your kid one of these and they’ll have it made!

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They Told Me To Find My Passion… (AKA My Tool Is Longer Than Yours)

As my eyes met the tape measure

I felt the fire rear up in my heart

And I knew that in the future

I could measure

In metric or imperial units

How high those heart-flames soared.

Some people mocked my passion,

Said I’m weird for longing

To know how long my longing was,

But I say its better than being bored.

When I feel that need to now how I feel

And I pull out that flexible metal bar

And with each box, each wall I measure

The heavens ring with a music

Only it and I can hear,

A cord’s secret chord.

And somewhere in that tape measure

That sings our hidden music

I hope its heart is happy

Knowing my pocket will be its home

And gone are the days

When its passions were ignored.

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Tom Is The Perfect Man

She says she wants a man

Who’ll be honest and true,

Who’ll give her his heart

And support when she’s blue,

Who say they’re old-fashioned

But open to stuff,

Safe and spontaneous,

Non-threatening but buff,

And I can’t help thinking

As I look in her eyes

That I’m glad I’m her cat

And not one of those guys.

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Dating Asian Women?

My girlfriend left me yesterday,

Just took her stuff and went,

Yet left behind a little gift

For her now former-gent.

She left a bottle of soy sauce,

My sorrows for to drown.

She just could not resist the urge

To Kikkoman when he’s down.

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Two Keys To A Happy Mind

When you think about anything

It becomes weird,

Like why can’t tigers

Grow a beard,

Why would someone join

An introverts group,

And who first thought

“He’s a nincompoop?”

And eventually you will find

The answers are one of these

“Probably reasons I don’t get”

Or “Screw it! More chocolate please.”

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…Or Is It An Untapped Business Opportunity?

If you are an amputee

Does your erotic preference change

To match your physicality,

Or is my asking that just strange?

The reason that I ask

Is that I want to get

The web domain StumpHump.com…

Is that something I may regret?

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Romance, California Style

It may have been love

If that’s what you call it,

‘Cause I liked her tits

And she liked my wallet.

As it turned out later

Hers and mine were both fake

But we both loosed our hair buns

And took what we could take.

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I’ve Looked At Actual Books And Faces In The Meantime

Two weeks ago I left behind

A big part of my life…

And I don’t speak of small stuff

Like a job, a church, a wife…

I left behind the means by which

Most others at me look,

By which I mean the platform

That we know as the Facebook.

And since I stepped away from it

I noticed there’s a sky,

I haven’t heard “impeach Trump”

Nor been annoyed by those who try,

I haven’t argued even once

Or leered at female friends

And my days are nine hours longer

And I don’t care whom that offends.

My IQ’s jumped twelve points so far.

I may have lost some weight.

I talked a bit with strangers

At the bus’s boarding gate.

I went outside three times this week

And didn’t feel lame

And though some folks may still hate me

I don’t comment on their blame.

So overall un-pluggedness

(Or less-pluggedness if we’re honest)

Has made me ever happier,

Less pale, and a bit more modest.

Now instead of saying

“Here’s how my life should be”

To friends I haven’t seen in years

Now I can just be me!

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