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?
Category Archives: Poems
Bob and Job’s Job (and the Call from the Mob)
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.
Not Quite Campbell’s…
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
Dirty Theo’s Happy Day
Theodore walked down the street
Wearing nothing but a smile.
Several people stared at him,
and several thought it was vile.
He grinned at children, moms and dads
And single people too.
He stuck his tongue out, licked his lips,
And knelt to take a poo.
Someone called the cops, they say,
‘Cause police arrived in minutes.
They chased Theo through the fray
And tried their best to pin it.
But towards the altercation
A tough young lad had stepped.
He said “That’s my dalmation.
He got out from where he was kept.”
So the police turned over Theo,
and the lad was justly fined.
That’s my tale. Now I can see yo’
Have a dirty mind.
Filed under Poems
Inspiration and Haiku
I write to you, dear reader
To tell you of my needs.
I tried to write 3 posts before this
But my mind found infertile seeds.
I thought of writing of decency
A poem of colors or love.
My fingers they typed, but alas and alack,
I received no great thoughts from above.
Today I will make a petition,
Just in case this lapse happens again.
If you want to inspire a poet,
Please leave me a thoughtful comment.
To make up for this otherwise,
Rather lackluster request,
I wrote you down a haiku
That you read when you need to get dressed:
Pull you pants on first.
Next put on a shirt or blouse.
Socks go on your hands.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Memorial Day
A million, trillion years ago
A youngish caveman said,
“When to a person’s head there comes a blow,
They often wind up dead.”
He hoped that other cavemen noticed
His club’s wondrous power,
As he set off, entirely focused
On seizing social power.
Yet somehow we have not evolved
Beyond this caveman’s reason.
And when problems need to be resolved
We make it hunting season.
We no longer clobber with our clubs
But kill with guns and grenades.
Wouldn’t we be happier just giving love
Over cups of lemonades?
Until we learn that violence,
While effective, is sub-par,
We’re doomed to act like cavemen, since
Instead of talking, we spar.
But there is a time for everything
And while war’s go on, we’ll fight.
So long as America, of freedom, does sing
We’ll be free, clad in blue, red, and white.
This poem turned out seriously,
A fact I am not proud of.
So cheer for our veterans quite cheeriously
And start clubbing your neighbors with love.
Filed under Poems
Welcome
Welcome, dear reader, to my blog’s first post
On which terrible poems reside.
These travesties will likely, though I don’t mean to boast,
Cause you to wish you have died.
Alas you are living, and still reading this,
A fact that makes one of us happy.
If it is you, then I manage to murmur and hiss
That I’m pleased you don’t find this post crappy.
Since this post is my first, prudent it is
To explain what this blog soon will hold.
Things that will make your mind bubble and fizz
And some amusing things too, I am told.
A poem a day is this man’s noble goal,
And I’ll endeavor my best to comply.
But the hour is late, and it’s taking its toll,
so ’til tomorrow, dear reader, good bye!
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
The Daily Travesty 