I’ve thought a lot about it
And I think that thinking is good.
I also see some virtue to letting
Things happen as they would,
For what is in our power
But our power to choose how to act.
We have no ability to decide
Consequences or outcomes. Fact.
So when thinking about the future
And weighing choices in your head
Don’t worry about the ending
But about the choice itself instead.
Filed under Poems
What if chickens had no wings
And skin instead of feathers
And human legs and feet and heads
And wore clothing made from leather?
What if chickens were actually humans
But disguised as mindless poultry?
I don’t know what my conclusion is,
But I hope it’s something sultry.
Filed under Poems
Breaking up is hard for me,
Requiring courage and stuff.
It calls the waves of an emotional sea
And the embrace of blanket fluff.
I hate to say it, and I’ve told you why
Breaking up is hard to do.
That’s why I’ve decided not to break it off.
Instead, I’m just going to shoot you.
Filed under Poems
Some sports
Are played on courts
Others on fields or rinks.
Some play on pitches,
But I won’t rhyme with that.
(The reason is obvious, methinks).
Some balls are small
And don’t bounce at all
Others are not even spherical.
Some play with pucks,
‘Specially those Canucks.
This stuff’s proven, widely known, and empirical.
When you win, it’s a joy,
Perhaps more if you’re a boy,
But that debate’s for another occasion.
So yippee for sports
And those athletic sorts.
As for me, I’ll just solve this equation.
Filed under Poems
The sun shines yellow
Through the fluffy white clouds
That linger in a sky so blue.
I think it would
Be simpler if
It was all just green, don’t you?
Filed under Poems
A groan is fitting for a bad joke,
A sidelong glance for annoyances,
A yell or shout for problems grand,
A balloon pop for failed buoyances.
To the variety sure is great, y’all,
But I prefer it when one’s sighs fits all.
Filed under Poems
I am an exotic dancer,
And yes, I am a man.
I make money at bachelorette parties
And drive an army cargo van.
Chicks like a man in uniform
So when I see the bachelorette cutie
I give a salute and slap my patoot
And say “Major Turnon, reporting for booty.”
Filed under Poems
This isn’t common, but it’s not just me
Who takes joy in sobriety,
For when the laughter is all done
I want to remember how I had fun,
And in life’s most joyous times
Like reading books and writing rhymes
A fluid ounce of honesty
Will always beat a pint in me.
For what is it we must obscure
To resort to boozing as our cure?
Fear of being seen as us?
Why should such things cause a fuss?
So give up fear and give up lies
(It’s easier than you might surmise)
And live a life, joyful, true.
Live a life with sober you.
Filed under Poems
I hunted for the Red October
But only found the blue.
I know it ‘s only second best,
But I brought it here for you.
I left it on your doorstep
‘Cause it seemed a reasonable spot.
Too bad your boat was so tiny,
But hey, you can buy another yacht.
I just want to see you smile
And hug you with all eight arms.
I’ll try to be oh-so-gentle,
But sometime I do harms.
I love you sailor, yes I do.
Can’t you love this kraken too?
Filed under Poems
A description of a setting
The lonely artist loves.
Introduce the poem’s subject
Rhyming with the line aboves.
Introduce a conflict,
But done with exquisite taste,
Then end it with a poignant line
And highlight, copy, paste.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 