Some people are winners,
Champions, doers,
Cheerful, successful,
Real woo-hooers.
Some people get up
At 5:00 am every day
And go run a mile,
Cut some wood, write a play.
Some people become
The world’s best at their craft.
They’re prom kings and queens
Who’re picked first in the draft.
And then there are people
Who are dumb, weak, and stout
And for self-esteems sake
They’re with whom I’ll hang out.
Filed under Poems
I flipped a coin. It landed heads.
I flipped again. It landed tails.
One or the other every time-
It is a trick that never fails.
I asked eight girls “wanna do it?”
Four of the girls thought it was funny
The others got a guy to dent my skull.
This is why people are attracted to money.
Filed under Poems
I paid for the Italian festival,
A fair fair fare.
They had many exhibitions
Like a rare bare bear.
But when I tried to exit
I found myself trapped
By some drummers- a snare snare.
My pants almost were crapped
But thankfully I hadn’t
Eaten in the recent past
For just a short time.
‘Twas quite a fast fast.
My pants uncrapped, I
Did home in on my home
It was a long way away
As I’d been roamin’ in Rome.
I ran past the drummers
With a minimal fight.
The road forked three ways
But I took the right right.
They pursued me with insects,
Their mightiest mites
For several bishopy evenings
And several more knighty nights.
No, the fair wasn’t fair,
Nor was it even even
But I bested their best
And escaped without grievin’.
In the end I lost money,
But it was a fine fine
‘Cause the memories will last
Longer than the lion line.
Filed under Poems
I reserved us a table
At Chez Fantastique,
Unparalleled class,
Unquestionably chic.
I wanted to give
Only the best to you,
But alas with me
Guess a dinner will do.
Filed under Poems
I think April Fool’s Day
Is a fantastic plan.
What better month than April
To celebrate the average man?
Filed under Poems
While in the misty sunrise
The cooing birds
Smile like butterflies
So I made weak
By trickling hearts
Dot my i’s
With scarlet
Just kidding
I dot them in green
Filed under Poems
April is national poetry month.
February was the month of black history.
How they pick what’s special for each given month
Is, to me, a bit of a mystery.
If I were in charge of month-topic picking
I’d pick something everyone loves
Like the national month of ice-cream and sex…
Either that or elbow-length gloves.
Filed under Poems
I went to the dollar store
To buy a concealable weapon.
Something with menace
From a gangster from Venice,
But a gun or knife I didn’t want to be schleppin’.
So discount Dominic
Sold me a satisfactory piece:
It weighs but an ounce
And helps when I pounce.
Ever seen some grass knuckles like these?
Filed under Poems
I saw an ad for a psychiatrist.
His reviews said “he’s magnificent.”
I needed a psychiatrist
And so to his place I went.
I told him how my father
Left my mother when I was young,
How I suffered from a crippling fear
Of swallowing my tongue,
Of how I had anxiety,
Social and miscellaneous,
And until now had found talking
About my feelings to be extraneous.
The magnificent psychiatrist
Listened closely to my fear,
Then he said “I’ve found the problem…
“It’s this coin behind your ear.”
And as he drew a quarter
From where my lobe and auricle met
His other hand gave me a bill
And the shrink said “you’re all set.”
I left his office happier…
That I can say for sure.
I can also say with certainty
I won’t be using Yelp no more.
Filed under Poems
Mighty is the sword
And mighty is the pen:
If both of these are true
It’s safe to conclude then
The mightiest tool of all
Is the one and only Swordpen.
It writes with the blood
Of those it slays.
It’s Swordpenned many novels
And poems and plays.
It’s the only writing implement
With a crossguard I know.
It’s good with the ladies.
It’s middle name is “Bro.”
I wish I had a Swordpen.
It would be a cool thing to own.
Alas, the only swordpen
Is stuck in a Pencilstone.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 