Dr. Pepper was hit by an iron
He recently confessed.
When asked how he was feeling
He said “I’m soda pressed.”
Another Perspective…
The top one-percent of earners
Make $585 K.
The minimum NFL salary
Is $615,000 today.
These 0.95-percenters
Complain about being oppressed
And wonder why their unemployed fans
Are anything less than impressed.
Filed under Poems
If You Sell Love to Haters, Don’t Ask Why No One Is Buying
To those who make their homes beneath rocks
I offer this poetic plea
Regarding demonstrations by civilians and jocks
With the hopes you will listen to me.
Yes, it’s important all people are equals
And treated with love and respect.
Yes, there’s been push-back, misinterpretation,
But, frankly, what did you expect?
The symbols with which you display your ideals
May change some opinions for sure;
If I spit on a puppy and say “Yay world peace!”
You might doubt my intentions are pure.
Likewise if you stand for freedom and justice
By kneeling in front of a flag,
By fleeing from songs about love for our nation
Some people will think you’re a drag.
If instead when the anthem is sung by our siblings
And you stand to honor our banner
Those who disparage your reason for protest
No longer disparage its manner.
And after you’ve captured the ear of your rivals
You show them the point you want made
You swapped some derision for some indecision
And that is a valuable trade.
To those who were hateful and know are uncertain
You do not decry them as bad
But make your point clear and then disappear.
Don’t be an unskippable ad!
Don’t show what’s troublesome, worrying, scary
By showing disdain for what’s good.
Instead show you’re with us, then raise our awareness
And maybe we’ll do as we should.
And if we keep not being how you would wish us,
Disrespect you, or call you a name,
Consider the best way to make the world better
Is simply to not do the same.
I don’t ask this often, but if you agree with my perspective, please share this poem.
Share it with those who think as you do, because they’ll likely enjoy it too.
Share it with those with whom you disagree, for that is the path to the change we must see.
Share it with those who will argue and fight. You may not kill darkness, but you can shine a light.
Share it with those with whom you would be one, for we share the same air, the same earth, the same sun.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
A Blue-Blooded Joke for a Red-Blooded Folk
Of terrible jokes
This is but one of a myriad:
Both Picasso and the Princess
Have had a blue period.
Filed under Poems
Canadian Rap
What’s up dawg?
We about to get real!
In my crib we consider
How other folks feel,
Like when a brother asks
“Yo, where da bathroom be?”
You say “The end of the hall,”
And hope they have a good pee.
If your mixtape is flames
But it’s disturbin’ the neighbors
You realize that lack of sleep
Impacts professional labors,
So you crank it from eleven
Back to a suitable volum’
So when yo neighbors see the cops
They ain’t intendin’ to call ’em.
We don’t judge a playa’s major,
Whether fine arts or stem.
We be diggin’ respect
For he/him/she/her/they/them.
We know if a brotha’s vegan
Or wants his food gluten free,
And if you bringin’ people drinks
Why not some decaf tea?
If you come an’ have a holla
In the ‘burbs with me,
I be more apt to thank you kindly
If you RSVP.
You may think we freakin’ tame
Because our hide’s pretty white,
But a party ain’t be rockin’
If da guests ain’t polite!
Filed under Poems
Origin Story
Once upon a space and time
A man who was not paid to rhyme
Devoted much attention to
Forcing his “humor” on you.
He spent a day amidst his folks
Without thinking of rhyming jokes.
The last two days he’d been lazy
So to slack off now would make him crazy.
Thus he started writing, it’s said
When a title popped into his head.
What he’d written did not fit
But he did not not give a… spit.
Anyway, I’m writing still
Although perhaps I battle uphill.
Yes, the tense is present now
And I wipe sweat from my brow.
(Even though my brow is sweatless
I actually wiped it. That’s how much I get this).
If you’ve seen this, you have read it.
This is why most poets edit.
Filed under Poems
Millennial Parenting Takes Another Small Step
If your name were Bedtime
And asked for a bedtime story
People might share anecdotes
Of you in all your glory.
Your children might get all confused
When it’s their rest-your-head time
And you ask them to ask you
“Tell me a story, Bedtime?”
Or say you want a lesson
In a subject like history
And you have to tell somebody
“Tell me, Bedtime, a story.”
One thing no one asks though
Is why Bedtime isn’t sad
When he tells the story of the time
He killed his mom and dad…
Filed under Poems
Two American Legends
Yankee Doodle went to town
Riding on a pony.
He stuck a feather in his cap
And called it macaroni.
Yankee Doodle was confused,
Perhaps ’cause of the ridin’,
And his random speech habit
Got picked up by Joe Biden.
Filed under Poems
We Are Never Ever Ever… Sending You Another Letter!
I got a letter in the mail
From a Jehovah’s Witness
Which explained God’s will to me
And wished me mental fitness.
It told me, “God is watching
“And he’s offering you a lift,”
And yet I’ve seen no news
About the death of Taylor Swift…
Filed under Poems
