I was taught something handy from someone called “Dad”
That although it is nice to have fun,
If you want to have something that you’ve never had
Try something that you’ve never done.
If you want to get anywhere in this here world,
You’ve got to most truly desire it.
If something’s in your head that makes dreams come unfurled,
It’s prudent to go in and fire it.
And thus, amidst humor, on occasional times
It’s wisdom, not comedy, that comes forth from my rhymes
Filed under Poems
It’s a nasty bit of evolution
That humans ever evolved.
Why couldn’t the world have been made
So around dogs it revolved?
Dogs are gentle, kind, and free.
They never need to complain.
A floppy tongue of a doggy smile
Can ease any human pain.
A dog can live quite simply
Amused all day by a branch.
We humans instead entertain ourselves
With trips to China or Franch.
Dogs are faithful and low maintenance.
The scratch when they feel itches.
I really do not understand
Why some call women bitches.
So that’s my rant on dogs today,
And I am happier now.
Excuse me reader, as I leave
To milk an electronic cow.
Filed under Poems
There once was a man from Junyper
Whose name was, in fact, Peter Piper.
He picked peppers one day,
In a tongue tying way,
And played tediously with a viper.
The viper mistook him as female,
And read aloud an old chain email.
“Eat the apple,” it said,
“‘Cause it’s temptingly red.”
So he did, and this line rhymes with Shemale.
Pete took apples back home to Eve,
Who was flirting with some guy named Steve.
Pete’s named changed to Adam.
Steve took a swing at ’em,
So Adam decided to leave.
Thus Eve never ate up the apple,
And she and Steve shared lemon Snapple.
So ask preacher man
As soon as you can
To read this bad poem at chapel.
Filed under Poems
Most men want a woman,
and women want a man.
It seems like love should be easy,
and with my new method, it can!
My method’s known as L.A.M.E.
and it’s an acronym
For a method that works for her
and works even better for him!
“L” stands for lower standards,
and that’s some good advice.
For instance, you meet a friendly man
and he likes you, but has lice.
Lower down your standards
and I’m sure that you’ll say
“I don’t mind that you’re icky, dear,”
and now we move on to “A.”
“A” stands for altercations,
and it’s best if you have many.
Celebrities fight. They fight a lot,
and they make a pretty penny.
So next time your lover insults you
and you feel you want to argue
Fight it out in a public place
and Hollywood will write a show for you!
“M” stands for me, myself, and I
and I think it’s plain to see
That you’re the most improtant part of a relationship
and that’s a good place to be.
So when your lover says to you
“and you never think of me,”
You’ll answer that you think of yourself
and that’s the way it should be.
“E” stands for exit plan,
and it’s probably obvious
That if you follow the instructions
and you come to “wedded bliss”
You’re going to need an exit plan
and you’ll already be prepared.
So try it on your loved one now,
and try not to be scared.
Say “Honey, you are ugly
and I really couldn’t care less.”
Then fight it out in a public place
and televise your stress!
Remember, love is selfish
and think of “me,” good man.
Then run to love another day,
and use your exit plan.
Filed under Poems
Flash!
There is a sparrow in a tree.
It croons, and calls out.
It’s just like that.
Flash!
Now the bird is dead.
It flew into a window.
Other avians will do the same.
Flash, and there is ice cream, melting over the bird,
Its speckled corpse is sticky and happy as the sweet confection
Of humanity
Perjures itself upon the hollow-boned beauty.
Then it is gone, eaten by a raccoon.
The white chickens gather around.
It is important.
In other words…
so much depends
upon
a dead meal
sparrow
glazed with
ice cream
beside the white
chickens.
Filed under Poems
Far off in the Sahara
There’s a very powerful man.
He lives among the cacti
And he’s got a snazzy tan.
He wears a cape around his neck
And fights for justice high.
He’s a friendly superhero,
And he’s known as cactus guy!
Cactus Guy!
He makes bad guys feel sickly.
Cactus Guy!
Though his manner is quite prickly.
Cactus Guy!
He can exercise his joints!
And when he speaks in public,
He brings up many, many good points.
He fights off guys like “Sandman”
Without blinking an eye.
He beats off crooks like “Scorpion”
‘Cause he is Cactus Guy!
He could take on the Joker
Or the Riddler in his sleep.
He helps the poor and innocent,
‘Cause he is not a creep.
Cactus Guy!
He drives a Prius, ’cause he’s green!
Cactus Guy!
His favorite actor’s Charlie Sheen!
Cactus Guy!
Now it’s time for him to leave,
But if you need to contact him
His roommate’s name is Steve!
Filed under Poems
I went out to a party
Last Sunday, on my trip.
While there, I saw a woman,
And my heart, it did a flip.
She looked so darn fancy,
In her heels and her pearls.
Her eyes were bright as starlight,
Her hair fell down in curls.
She smiled at me last Sunday,
From way across the room.
I had to go and meet her.
My passion was in bloom.
“Hello David,” she said
As flashed a perfect smile.
My heart heard songs of lovebirds,
Like it hadn’t for a while.
Turns out her name’s Ambrosia,
And she likes nerdy men,
Poets and musicians.
I was her perfect ten!
She led me to her lodgings,
Where we enjoyed some wine.
I gazed into her perfect eyes,
And she gazed into mine.
That night was full of passion.
Hey, come back here Nancy!
Who cares if she’s your sister?
She just looked so darn fancy.
Filed under Poems
I’ve got writer’s block.
I can’t write worth crap tonight.
Thus this bad haiku.
Believe it or not,
That haiku took half an hour.
I’m just that plugged up.
Thus this post is done.
Hopefully I’ll be inspired.
Guess we’ll see, won’t we?
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Job’s job in the Navy was to work with Bob
Who bobbed up and down in some pools.
At the same time, at Times Square there gathered a mob
Who were angry about layoffs and rules.
It just so happened that Bob and Job’s mothers
Were mobsters of sorts in New York.
They bobbed in and out among mobsters and others
And compared cops to bacon and pork.
Well Job’s mother’s job was a hazardous one,
And somewhere amidst all the chaos,
Fortune would have it she butt-dialed her son
As the sun shone, and the mob talked of layoffs.
Far, far away, Job’s job was disturbed
By the sound of a hip-hop ringtone.
So he shouted “aye aye,” looking somewhat perturbed
And his commander’s eyes eyed his phone.
Job said “It’s my mother,” and Bob backed him up.
“I’ve got a call from mine too!”
They answered their phones, and Job answered “Sup?”
He only heard static and knew.
Yes he knew, then and there, where his mother’s long hair
Did wave in the air in New York.
He hung up his phone, saluted then and there,
And with a wrench, to a pool, applied torque.
I’m not sure why this tale is relevant,
But the tale of a tail that’s hairy
Does not normally involve an elephant,
So of butt-dials, friend, do be wary.
Cauldron wide and hungry,
You will be used today.
My stomach growls; It’s rumbly.
My hair is turning gray.
If I don’t make an antidote
For this sickness, oh so grim
Then as a ghost, away I’ll float.
Yes cauldron, let’s begin.
First we’ll add some pepper,
then three strong legs of toad.
The teardrops of a lepper,
And dust from a windy road.
We’ll toss in eye of rabbit,
The gizzard of my neighbor,
The vegetables of an abbot,
And the figurative fruits of labor.
I toss in something to slicken
The consistency of this great brew.
Then I toss in an extra-large chicken,
And I gaze joyfully at this stew.
Finally, some soap that smells fruity,
And a rhino’s pustulous poop!
My antidote’s the epitome of beauty:
A witch’s homemade chicken soup.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 