There is a bridge entangled
In the jungle of our life
That spans a tiny river
That’s no wider than a knife.
On one side of the river
Is the Friday Party deep
But with me on the other shore
It’s shallow and we sleep.
In every life there comes a day
When you’ll cross unto my bank
And when you do you won’t cross back
And you’ll have age to thank.
Filed under Poems
So around the 1900’s
A bunch of artists said
“What if, instead of pretty things
“We just made trash instead?”
And thus “modernism” started
Until 1970 or so
When artists became “post-modern”
And nobody came to their show.
Filed under Poems
I’m a hundred miles from home
And I’m all topped off on gas.
I’ve got four all-weather tires
To propel me past the pass.
I’ve got all my tunes on CD-rom
And 12 donuts ready to bite.
I’m ninety-nine miles from home now
And there’s the check engine light…
Filed under Poems
Yesterday I wrote a poem
Full of soul and thought
And edited the verbiage
Reflecting how I thought.
Today I rhymed “thought” with itself
And started the next line.
Inspiration comes and goes
And that, my friends, is fine.
Filed under Poems
When you hear a baby crying
And you’ve grown into the age
When you cannot cry in public
It might trigger you to rage
Or declare your thoughts to others
As a well-read baby sage.
The baby, though, is wiser
For it knows the cause of tears:
Every pain is fresh and novel
For its endless early years
And it hasn’t lived to learn yet
To explain away its fears.
When an older person weeps
Knowing well you’ll criticize
Why not pause to beg the question
That’s behind their flowing eyes?
Is it too a swift discomfort
Or perhaps a cruel disguise?
Or perhaps you’re seeing someone
Who, for years, has worn their masks
While they smiled sans seratonin
And pursued their daily tasks.
They have answers for the weeping
But they cry since no one asks.
I spent an hour writing this poem
And it would be my most precious gem
If the hour that I had spent writing it
Wasn’t this morning at 2:00 AM.
Filed under Poems
I’ve heard people say leftists are happy
With Trump’s economics. A specific
Comment I heard is that they are feeling
A really strong feeling of tariff-ick.
Filed under Poems
There once was a bed with a pillow
Then a wife did enter the room
And thus my one-pillow system
Began to sense its doom.
First came two big long pillows
That stretched across the bed
And did everything a pillow should
Except help rest your head.
Then came two fluffy square ones
That aren’t the same color or size
Because apparently symmetry
Is not good for a female’s eyes.
Then came that little round novelty
With a pic of my mother-in-law
And now I don’t sleep with a pillow at all,
Put my head on mattress all raw.
Filed under Poems
Imagine a world where all is at peace,
A world without hunger or toil,
And ponder how easy a thing it would be
To go bomb them and take all their oil.
Filed under Poems
Once in fair Europe two men
Were squabbling comedically when
The audience got bored
So they pulled out a seord
And everyone dies in the end.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 