Tired Piggy takes a nap
And dreams about a duck.
Tired Piggy doesn’t care:
He doesn’t give a (darn).
Tired Piggy awakes
On a chair on which he sits.
He feels a tugging in his intestines
And Tired Piggy (excuses himself).
Tired Piggy isn’t interesting.
He is an awful bore.
He looks to find some romance,
So he hires a (court jester).
Tired Piggy isn’t crude,
Although he tries to be.
Now tell the censors to (darn) themselves
They’re doing a (court jester)-ible job censoring me.
Filed under Poems
Alas and alack, I turn my back
And nothing moves to strike me.
The world is too sunny, the people too funny,
And everyone happens to like me.
No stress have I found, no troubles abound,
And it makes it quite hard to be moody.
I’m alway too happy, my life isn’t crappy,
And women have far-too-nice booties.
It’s unfortunate, aye, that blue is the sky
When I make my job writing the news.
So until something’s bad, I’m off to be sad
And to sing out the life’s perfect blues.
Filed under Poems
Today’s Father’s day.
I am spending time with Dad.
Thus the short posting.
Filed under Poems
This is rain.
This is rain.
Rain is like water
That falls from the clouds.
Rain is like a simile that is not redundant,
Nor does it repeat itself or say the same thing more than once.
In fact, rain does not say anything at all,
But if it it did, it would say “Moo”
Because rain often falls on cows,
And it’s useful to speak the same language as those around you.
Rain is the color of chemically bonded hydrogen and oxygen
Kept between zero and one-hundred degrees celsius.
It is wise beyond its years,
Especially since it doesn’t have a brain,
And quiet, except when you are sleeping or trying to concentrate
And wise beyond its years.
Rain is like water, falling from the clouds,
The sky trying to punch the Earth
And failing,
Because the sky has no muscles or arms.
This is rain.
This is rain.
Filed under Poems
‘Twas a right cheery morning
Halfway through June
As I stretched and awakened
I did get mooned.
Before this I had thought that
The moon was round.
And those thoughts weren’t old hat:
It weighed ten pounds.
That there mooning was stressful.
What did I do?
I wrangled a gator, yes.
Then it I threw.
Gator sailed through the window
Bit off mooner’s arm. Uh,
What can this man say?
I fulfill mooner’s Karma.
Wouldn’t it be nice if real life worked this way?
Filed under Poems
I’m one of those guys who thinks like a man.
I don’t stop to smell flowers or work on my tan.
I have dark green eyes. I eat meat from a can.
I lack superpowers, but I watch Jackie Chan.
So one day a lady
Asked me a question:
“What’s your favorite flower?”
I asked for suggestions.
“Maybe a flower that is Kuwaiti?”
The thought of that flower gives me indigestion.
“A rose is quite classic, surely a wower.”
Sounds easy enough. That ended our session.
A man knows in matter of flowers and shopping
That matters are best settled quickly,
For women are prone to suggesting without stopping
And that makes a man like me sickly.
Filed under Poems
I wish I had a Plasma Gun
‘Cause that would be a lot of fun.
You can bet I wouldn’t set it on stun!
I wish I had a Plasma Gun.
I wish I had a Lightsaber
And a suit of armor like Darth Vader
And claim paternity over total strangers.
I wish I had a lightsaber.
I wish I had a Jetpack
Because it rhymes with Net Hack.
Flying through the air with a backpack,
I wish I had a Jetpack.
If I had all these wishes
I’d shoot and lightsaber some fishes.
Then I’d fly away with my bitches,
And I’d never again wash the dishes!
Filed under Poems
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
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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
