Category Archives: To the Reader

Going Pro

I’ll go with the flow,
With the status quo,
But there are new places
This poet must go,
And so

I’m pleased to declare
To those here and there
That new things are coming,
Like Spring in the air.

I’ve created a page
(As it’s called in this age)
In the book of faces
For you to engage.

The site name has been altered,
Just in case you have faltered.
It’s just thedailytravesty.com now.
The WordPress name has been haltered
(And by haltered I mean gotten rid of, but you knew that).

But the next great frontier
Which I whisper in your ear
Is a publishing venture.
Oh dear, oh dear.

The future is bright.
Come join it with me,
And tomorrow we’ll have
An even greater Travesty.

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Try Everything Once

Unlike you
And unlike me
I know no whales
Who like to ski.

So don’t be whalish.
Be open minded
And lots of fun
Is what you’ll have finded.

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An Individual Stranger

I heard a woman say
Just the other day
“Recognize me as an individual.”

So I’m recognizing her,
But you readers may be sure
See this post is not something
that have seen she will.

Maybe if I knew her name,
What made her separate
from the same
I could recognize her appropriately.

So if you want a shout out,
Just demonstrate your clout out,
Or my poem to you will end
Klersmoppriately.

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A Great Post from Someone Else

I found this poem in my travels,

And it brought to me a smile.

Go check it out, it’s worthy of clout,

And it’s certainly worth your while.

 

http://themindselbow.blogspot.com/2014/01/git-along-little-rhymers.html

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The Star Spangled Blind Date

Oh say can you see
By the fluorescent lights
That red flag you sought out
On their online profile,

That was written so well,
Focused on good highlights
But it failed to reveal
All the things that were vile.

As the waiters brings food
And your date wrecks the mood
By reciting some thoughts
That are terribly lewd.

“Oh say, did you notice
It’s getting too late for me.
“This was a very special night,”
You lie as you flee.

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The Siren

‘Twas a year before numbers
When I sailed the sea
Where I met my first siren,
And my Demise met me.

I was taking first watch
Near the time of four fourty
When she called out my name.
She called “come to me, Morty.”

Her high, lilting song
With my heartstrings was toying.
She lured me to danger.
(It was very annoying).

But I leaped off the deck
Not thinking too clearly
And I swam towards the voice,
Which was starting to cheer me,

And I reached her lagoon
At four forty five
Shocked, but ecstatic
To still be alive.

And that’s when I saw
The voice’s physical guise.
I asked “What is your name?”
And the voice said, “Demise.”

I’ve been in that cave
Since numbers were made,
And Demise and myself
Both faithful have stayed,

But if you see my ship,
The Ocean’s Slumbers,”
Please tell the I’m happy,
And teach them about numbers.

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First Love Lasts Forever

I still remember the first girl I loved,
Though I will not say her name.
I was her seventh-grade knight in cargo pants.
She was my white-bloused seventh grade dame.

Today we’re friends, if only online,
But we seldom text or chat.
We write a note when birthdays come,
But rarely more than that.

Despite the distance and nonchalance
She’ll always have a place
In this man’d heart, and in my mind
I’ll always know her face.

The first love we know never goes away,
Invulnerable to time.
So make sure your kid in seventh grade
Never falls in love with a mime.

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Bacon

When life knocks you down
And no relief do you see,

When the joy you invite
Doesn’t RSVP,

When you’re proverbially fishing
But only catch kelps,

Just think about bacon.
I hope that this helps.

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How to heigh-Ho (A Derry-O)

I was born and raised a farmer,
And I know my job quite well,
But I’ve got some competition
From the farmer in the dell.

So I’ve got to take a gander at
What he’s got that I’m lacking.
He just heigh-hoed his derry-o,
So on that I should get cracking.

So how does one go about
The process of heigh-hoing?
I know some dwarves (Crap, I mean “little people!”) who do it
When off to work they’re going.

So if you’ve got ideas,
Please write and let me know.
You’ll help this needy farmer,
And you’ll help his derry-o.

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Baby Rock

A fumpquadrillion years ago

There was a baby rock.

He was tiny, like a pebble,

And musical, like Bach.

The baby stone would sing and moan

Some songs, both longs and shorts.

His first record went multi-platinum,

Not bad for a teenage quartz.

As he aged, his music differed,

In its lyrics, its style, its tone.

This June you might just see him on

The cover of Rolling Stone.

Baby Rock was an instant success.

He’s got some considerable clout,

And he just wanted me to remind you

To stay tough and to baby rock out.

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