There comes a time,
From time to time,
When time passes too quickly.
Through times of joys
For girls and boys,
But not times that are sickly.
So I ask time
Just one more time
“Must you fly when we’re having fun?”
And in a timely way
Time did say
“I don’t if your joy’s never done.”
Filed under Poems
Sex is a service.
It takes lots of work,
But it’s a pretty good job
With its fair share of perks.
Sometimes it’s hard,
(And we hope that it is).
It needs some of hers,
And it needs some of his.
Filed under Poems
I picked her up at seven
Going to the promenade.
She was dressed in a vermillion gown
Wrapped tightly ’round her bod.
I gazed into her emerald eyes.
My heart was thumping madly.
That evening’s when I realized
I was going to be a Daddy.
(It’s great to be back after six months. Long live the mediocrity)!
Filed under Poems
When I step on a rug, I always say “I’m sorry.”
I try to good, to warm instead of frost.
Because the world is a jungle, a wild safari,
And sometimes the nice guys get lost.
But the one thing we navigate in this wide, scary world
Is the bedroom, where seldom nice guys are outclassed,
For to the women who look past our impishness is unfurled
The fact that nice guys always finish last.
Filed under Poems
I believe not so much in theology.
I have very little interest in geology.
But I do have a very unique philosopy,
And I’d like to share it with you.
I call this philosophy, appropriately, “Phil,”
For that is an acronym of the initials
Or the four central pillars, make of them what you will:
I hope they will apply to you.
P is for positive,
Which is often a pain.
It means to refrain
When you’d like to complain.
When you want to criticize, simply abstain,
And you’ve mastered the first part of “Phil.”
H is for happiness,
Which is no more than a choice.
When the world offers bad things, listen not to the voice
Which would make you be said, but instead make the choice
To be happy, and you’ve mastered more “Phil.”
I’s for integrity,
A hard word to rhyme.
It means to be honest, and refrain from crime.
Do what’s right, even if it’s hard, and do so every time,
And you’re almost done mastering “Phil.”
And L is for love.
It’s predictable, yes.
It’s very important, or so I should guess.
Everyone loves someone, or something, to death;
Love everyone like them, whether Elmer or Tess.
And thus, we finish Phil.
Choose to be positive, and give folks a chance.
Choose to be happy, regardless of circumstance.
Say what is honest and do what is right,
And love every person. That is “Phil.” Good night!
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Yesterday, an amazing thing
Almost happened to moi!
As the French would say, I almost was part
Of a menage-a-troi.
I was missing only one small thing
When all was said and done.
But I didn’t mind. I found it fine,
My little menage-a-one.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
This is a haiku.
Seven syllables this line.
First and last have five.
This haiku is bad.
Do not write one that’s like this.
That would be a mistake.
Filed under Poems
Zeus likes keeping animals
Behind enclosure walls.
Ares is the God of war,
And busts a lot of balls.
Uranus is an deity
Who you can always say is yours,
And when the thunder God gets chicken pox
He becomes covered in Thors.
Muslims think that poultry
Is an animal about which to sing,
Because they worship Allah,
And with chicken Allah’s king.
Filed under Poems
I said I’d return to my blog today,
This 30th day of September.
I’m tired, and I’d rather be sleeping right now,
But commitment I need to remember.
And remember indeed I do.
I remember a commitment I made back in May:
I killed a man to to write on this blog on schedule,
And to jail I was committed the next day.
Filed under Poems
Dear readers, I am sad to say
(Not actually, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this, but pretend it’s a genuine concern)
That commencing tomorrow until this Sunday
(Unless I decide to start earlier, in which case please disregard this post altogether)
I will put on hiatus these travestays
(For sake of the rhyme, spelling may have been altered)
‘Cause I’m tired, and could really use a va-
(You know what comes next).
Hope you understand, and I’ll be back in the plural of day.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
The Daily Travesty 