Category Archives: Poems

Major Announcement

Hello dear readers, and dear writers too.

Boy do I have some big news for you!

Though this blog does fill my heart

And satisfy my passion for mediocre art,

I’ve decided to take it one step more.

Here is what I have in store:

 

I call it the Quarterly Travesty,

A publication made by me

That features works of comic strife

That infiltrates everyday life.

 

The Quarterly Travesty will debut

In September. Now, what’s in it for you:

I’m looking for writers to submit

Your comic creations, and I’ll publish it.

(This is subject to some conditions,

But you probably had such premonitions).

 

So if you’ve got a poem or two,

A bit of short fiction, comic strip, or cartoo’,

A letter, a joke, or whatever’s funny

That you want to see published, just send it to me.

 

For those whose comic preferences head

Not towards creation, but to reading instead

I’ll be publishing updates about the e-zine

Right here on the blog, Where it’s sure to be seen.

Please leave your feedback and what you’d like to see.

Your opinions are very important to me.

 

Thanks all for reading. You guys are the bomb!

(Send your stuff to thedailytravesty@yahoo.com)

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Filed under Poems, To the Reader

Customer Service

I know folks are unhappy
When they come into the shop
With their car behind a tow truck
After an unexpected stop.

I know just why they take it out
On the guy behind the desk,
And in their frustration
Have need to vent about their mess.

I tried to work a grocery store,
And shops for clothes and tires,
Yet no matter what, the customers
Always brought their ires.

That’s how I came to work here,
In sales at Guns R Us,
‘Cause when there’s a rifle in your hands
Folks don’t make such a fuss.

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English Minors

i wrote a novel about a guy
Who could do magic. Even fly.
But i dont now why it was rejected:
And i cant help but think “how unexpected”!

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99 Bottles Later

I used to own a bar
Until the choir came to town.
They’d had an iffy concert
And they had sorrows to drown.

So they said, “How ’bout a beer?”
And from the wall I took one down.
I gave it to a tenor
Who then passed it aroun’.

And so this was repeated
For nearly a hundred bottles
With the choir singing all throughout,
Their dance reduced to tottles.

And then they left. My walls were bare.
My alcohol was gone.
But the thing I’ll never ever forget
Was that god-forsaken song.

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Rabble Trousers

As my pants fell beneath my knees
In math class with Mrs. Roz
I made a very fervent wish
To become Santa Claus.

“I swear it was an accident!”
I called as I was dismissed.
Oh how I envied Santa Claus
And the fact he did not exist.

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Butter and Baseball

I am a designated hitter,
But I find my batting’s better
Than when I was avoiding butter
Trying to earn a varsity letter.

So perhaps this serves to show us
Maybe butter betters batting
And that chugging before slugging
Has effects besides the fatting,

But butter-bettered batting
Causes blatantly bungled bunting.
Perhaps my solution
Requires a bit of better hunting.

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The Parrot’s Lament (Go Away Sunshine)

Go away sunshine.
I ain’t in the mood.
Leave me alone.
Just let me brood.

Go away sunshine
Like my Polly’s gone.
She had many good sides,
But whose side was she on?

Go away sunshine.
I know she’s a snacker,
But who could predict
How she wanted that cracker?

Go away sunshine.
Let me sit in this cage,
And share with passerby
My avian rage.

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Ordinary Ventures

There are poems about love and nature
And poems about the nature of love.
There are poems about ravens and monsters
And a fancy silk elbow-length glove.

There are ballads about heroes and traitors
And songs about peasants and kings.
Yet sometimes one wants to hear ballads
About boring and everyday things.

And thus I composed such an epic
Of the trite, average, and bourgeois.
I sent it to publishers many
But I haven’t heard back so fa’.

So wish me luck that my venture
Into the world of cliche,
And should my venture fail, perhaps
You’ll read my work in “USA Today.”

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My Favorite Things

Puppies and sunsets,
Music and books,
Women who give me
Those “come hither” looks.

Orange juice and blue whales
Letters that rhyme with “E.”
Those are a few of my favorite things.
Too bad the Von Trapps don’t agree.

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The Big Question

It was a heavy wait,
A pregnant pause,
As I thought of what to say.

From the force of the blow
I knew I was wrong,
But her butt did look fat in a way.

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