My writer’s nerve is blocked.
My sinuses are too.
Please accept this micro-poem
And this picture of R2.
Category Archives: Poems
Episode III: Revenge of the Sick
Filed under Poems
Intrigue in the Barn
I am a Princess on the run,
But not for parties and frivolous fun.
I fled for my life, ’cause here’s the thing:
I’m the daughter of the Burger King.
I loved my Mom* and trusted Daddy
Until the took my hand-heifer, Patty.
They tied her up and milked her dry,
And then I watched poor Patty die.
Every day my legs grow faster
As I run to greener pasture.
Seeking something to make life full,
Even if that’s all just bull.
*The Dairy Queen, of course.
Filed under Poems
The Miracles of Modern Medicine
I started out with aspirin
To dull some of the pain,
Then NyQuil, DayQuil, and vitamin C
To make the sickness wane.
Then I tried garlic, cloves and sage,
Parsley, rosemary, and thyme.
I danced in the rain and howled
And put coconut into my lime.
At the start of the fifth day
A unicorn brought me viagra
And a bottle of water that, I was told,
Came straight from the falls of Niagara.
I hope I feel much better.
I deserve it, Heaven knows.
On the other hand, if I should die
I’ll never decompose.
(Thanks for bearing with me through all of the sickness poems. I want them to stop just as much as you).
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
A Letter from My Cough
It’s not that I don’t want you
To ever go to sleep.
I’m just afraid that you’ll forget
About this post-nasal seep,
And so every now and then
I give your throat a tickle
And hope that while you’re coughing
You think about my mucus trickle.
When, like me, you’re just a symptom
It’s hard to find romance,
But when you crawled into your bed
I thought I’d take a chance.
Well, now you probably hate me
And I don’t blame you a bit.
Sorry it wasn’t good for you,
But I take what I can get.
Filed under Poems
The Brazilian
There is a Brazilian Spambot
That, about my blog, does care.
It thinks my articles are meaningful
And look! It’s got porn to share!
My dear Brazilian Spambot
Ensures at least one view a day,
And the folks on “girlsgonewild.com”
Might just get referred my way.
And my Spambot has a sister
Who is 18 years or olda’.
I think her name is Rachel,
Sarah, Bridget, Kate, or Golda.
So thank you lovely Spambot.
I hope this article informs.
Have fun with the rest of your day
Autofilling digital forms.
Filed under Poems
Tyrants and Taxes (T&T)
America’s founding fathers
Were some level 20 rogues
Playing games of protestation,
Dressed in breaches, wigs, and brogues.
They tossed their tea leaves in the bay
When the stamp act was in place,
And they kicked the redcoats’ butts
(Though the French kicked them in the face).
And so the revolution
Was a critical success,
And thanks to Washington et al
We can choose how we want to dress.
So tonight go watch some fireworks,
Pyrotechnics in the sky,
And give thanks for this nation
That educated I.
Filed under Poems
In Sickness and in Health
I made a commitment
To this poetical quest
That each day, rain or shine
Something rhyming would be pressed.
And so as I lie
Awash in my phlegm*
I write you this limerick,
Though it is not a gem:
There once was a very sick poet
Whose nose needed someone to blow it.
He searched for a tissue
But found none. What an issue!
Finally he chose to Costco it.
*I apologize for the image. Be thankful it wasn’t a photo.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Dog and Friends!
A dog should be your best friend.
A dog could be your pal.
Alas, it seems that most dogs
Are primitive and banal.
Then I looked at people
And all of my human friends
And I saw that they, like dogs
Have behavior that needs the mends.
Both parties are prone to eat to much,
And they both crave attention.
Both are oddly furry
And deserve a day’s detention.
So I suppose that friends and dogs
At times can be quite trite,
But I’d not give up on either,
For I love both with all my might.
Filed under Poems
The Ballad of Big Jack
I went to see a wrestling match
In Canada last night.
A friend of mine was in the ring
And I love to watch him fight.
And so I drive a lot of miles,
(Which in kilometers is more)
Excited to see the action
I had waited all week for.
Well, sure enough my buddy entered,
400 pounds of strong.
His name was Big Jack Cunningham,
Six feet tall (and wide, and long).
In the other corner of the ring
Stood “Supernatural” Nelson Creed.
He was a caped, intellectual sort
And for victory he had greed.
And so the two began to clash.
The fight was long and hard.
Clotheslines crashed and kicks were dropped
And arms and legs were barred.
And in the end, Big Jack tapped out.
My feelings… They were mixed.
I would have liked to see him win,
But I know the match was fixed.
And so it goes in wrestling shows,
But at least Jack showed the town
That though he fell, they all can tell
He’s just as tall lying down.
Filed under Poems
