Category Archives: Poems

Chapter Two

If you are reading this

Chances are you’ve been born.

You’ve probably learned how to read,

You’re on a computer, and you have internet access,

And you understand English.

It’s unlikely you’re naked.

You may be hungry

Or thirsty,

But you aren’t dangerously so.

In fact, chances are your problems aren’t that bad

In the grand scheme of things.

 

This is chapter one,

Your prologue,

The beginning of your life.

I ask you now to examine what you’re going to do tomorrow

When chapter two rolls around.

 

Look around.

Observe the dramatis personae that is the world

And realize you are not the main character.

Then, you only have to ask:

What’s my point?

Here are your options:

The villains, who are hated,

The heroes, who are loved,

The fluff, the flavor text, who are unremembered,

Or the sun, rain, and wind, giving light and life to all you encounter.

Why should you long to be a main character

When you can be the sky?

 

Chapter one showed you the setting

Where your life takes place.

In chapter two, we see who matters in this story of life.

So tomorrow, when chapter two starts,

What will you be doing?

Why will you matter?

Will you breathe the air, or will you be the air?

 

Choose now, because you never get to see the table of contents.

Few books are longer than 1,000 pages,

Most aren’t 300,

And the silly ones full of rainbows and unicorns

Are usually around 12.

If I only get 12 pages,

I don’t want 9 to say,

“And he wished…”

I want 11 to say,

“And he was, and he did, and he gave his all,

And he smiled throughout.”

 

So write your twelve pages as they are,

And fill them with pretty pictures of chapter one.

Throw them away,

And walk onward, shining like the sun you can be,

Into chapter two.

 

 

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Words I Like

I have a superstition

That words need no definition

But merely a satisfying sound,

Like “Trickle” and “Thresh,”

“Conniption” and “Flesh.”

Yes these satisfying words do abound.

 

I like “Snort.”

I like “Port.”

I like “Weasels.”

I like “Pox,”

“Socks,” and “Fox.”

I like “Measels.”

 

On the other hand

I’ve got words to be banned

From our language on my watch,

Such as “Sixth,” “Dork,” and “Squat,”

“Squirt,” “Sphere,” and “Kumquat,”

And especially “Fecund” and “Crotch.”

 

So those are some words

That, much like the birds,

Fly through my head day to day.

Do you you have some, dear?

If so, I’d love to hear!

If not, I’ll just be on my way.

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Lullaby

Sweet little infant, all is fine,

And somewhere in Zambia, the sun still shines.

And I am envious of those Zambian dudes,

For they have the sun, and all I’ve got is you.

 

So basically baby, do me this favor:

Go to sleep now and save me the labor

Of rocking you, kid.  And don’t cry like that!

I’m seriously considering feeding you to the cat.

 

In fact, I’ve had it with your crying, you prick!

Let me go to the window and prepare my drop kick.

Oh, hello there darling.  I’m just getting some air.

So good bye now, you baby.  Cry at someone who cares!

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Google’s Humor

Why are things funny?

That’s a very good question,

And worth googling.

 

I decided to

Search for “Funny Picture.” Well,

Here’s the first result:

 

 

So, by Google’s thoughts

Coffee tables are funny.

Never would have guessed!

 

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Hockey

A cloud of partially frozen testosterone wafts across the ice,

A mist of legends past and present.

The fans sit, digesting grease and salt on uncomfortable seats.

The timer starts, the buzzer rings, the announcer screams,

And the teams emerge from the limbo beyond civilian comprehension.

The goalies go to their nets,

The captains to the center,

And they sing the anthems of allied nations,

Friends amidst the competition.

Then the rink explodes!

A flurry of sticks, pucks, and teeth without homes.

Lights flash, buzzers ring, plastic shatters and jerseys tear.

This repeats three times,

And the losers exit loudly.

But the winners stay.

They stay, and whether it’s their first or last time

They experience that fleeting joy

That lasts forever.

The joy of victory.

The joy of hockey.

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Apathy

I wrote a limerick for you

About apathy, but I didn’t care to

Post it today

So in my quite lazy way

I’m not posting it here, so boo hoo.

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Your Mom

“I’d like to give a fuck,” he said

As he looked me in the eye,

“But I’m afraid I used my last one up

On your mother the other night.”

 

And so I asked the fellow,

“Why does it make you proud

To look me in my eye right here

And announce unto the crowd

 

That you expended a limited sex drive,

and, if I might ask, why in Hades

Would you be so very proud

To score with middle aged ladies?”

 

And so he slunk off quietly,

And to those who know folks like him:

Do the world a favor,

Just find the guy and spike him!

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How to Enhance your Boredom

Every now and agin,

When entertainment is thin,

We human beings get bored.

But why must it be

That if bored are we

We cannot have fun?  Oh my lord!

 

For instance if you’ll

Be bored in a pool

That means you’re water board.

And if you find eating dull,

And your food brings a lull,

Then alternatively, you’re fodder bored.

 

If you’re bored with computers

And can’t define transmuters

Chances are you’re circuit board.

And if you want to have sex,

But you’re bored and depressed,

Go ahead and just furk it bored.

 

When you go on a sailboat

You’re boarding a ship.

When your date is boring

Just give them the slip.

If you’re on rollers or ice

You could be skate board,

And if you cannot be early,

Be late bored!

 

And finally if a lion

Who live out in Zion

Whose name is Ford, has roared,

Then it’s quite possible

That specific sort of dull

Is to be as lion Ford roared bored!

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Super Sweet Blogging

Today I thank a fellow man

Whom I have never met.

He goes by Starscraper99

And I am in his debt

For he has nominated me

(And a host of other blogs)

For the “Super Sweet Blogging Award,”

Which really turns my cogs (in a good way).

 

So here’s my application, I guess

To be eligible for this award.

I must list off several bloggers

Whose material strikes a chord

In the heart of this here blogger,

And answer some questions too.

So here we go: These are my picks.

Congrats if one is you!

 

For gamer types, there’s Greywulf’s Lair (greywulf.net)

And “Blog of subdued excitement” (Slightlyhippie.wordpress.com) for those who air

Their private lives upon the net.

And “A soldier’s perspective” (militarygear.com/asp) for civilians and vets.

 

Now onto the question portion I go.

The first goes like this:

“Cookies or cake?”  I must say

I can’t choose, and thus plead the fifth (Although it’s cookies, but that didn’t rhyme).

 

Next they ask “Chocolate or Vanilla,”

To which I must reply

That chocolate is better in all departments

Except ice cream, where vanilla reigns high.

 

What’s my favorite sweet treat?  I don’t have one.

As long is it’s sweet, then I’m good.

When do I crave sweet things the most?

I guess whenever I’m in the mood.

 

And finally if I had a sweet nickname

What on earth would it be?

Sweet Travis T.  It’s a good moniker.

That’s a few sordid facts about me.

 

So if you were nominated, here’s what you do:

Thank me in a post on your blog,

Nominate the blogs that you love to read

And answer the questions.  Hurrah(g)!

 

So keep blogging my friends,

I love what you write!

Have a sweet afternoon,

And after that, a good night!

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Guest Poem – The Duel at High Noon

(Expectation.)

(Anticipation.)

The crowd draws in its breath,

Watching the tournament of death

On the green grass of Saskatoon

At the dread hour of noon.

(High noon.)

That’s right, it was time for the duel;

The two men had eaten their gruel

And were ready to fight

If not to the death than at least until night.

(Well, the dark is scary!)

In the heat of the day,

An golden eagle flew away

Screeching his terror and fright,

While the gunsmoke was still light….

(There were no guns.  Don’t fret.)

The man they called Tiger teed off

With a birdie which no would did scoff,

But a man they called Harrington,

An Irish lad all the way from Paddington.

(Which is in England, but rhymed. More or less.)

The day became hot and they needed a drink,

So suspended their duel with a clink

As their caddies put the clubs away

To cool off for later that day.

(Golf is very hard work.)

But with a few more shots

And sand traps in spots,

The intrepid duelers prevailed,

But with results were not availed.

(It takes time to tally golf scores!)

(ANTICIPATION! Or maybe you don’t care….)

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