I stand atop the rocky cliff
Above the salty ocean blue
And shout to myself “how lovely
“And beautiful are you!”
I stand atop the rocky shore
Above the crashing waves below
And my echo calls back softly
“Whoa now! Let’s take this slow.”
Filed under Poems
Such is the river adamant:
Neither deep
Nor swift upon the rocks
Of misunderstanding,
Nor should she nod
When it means “optic nerve,”
Or so the sages said.
Two times the wolf.
Two times the narrator.
So why is this a lie detector?
Just read this to someone and ask them what it means to them.
If they say “it’s crap,” congratulations! You have an honest friend.
If they say “the bit about the wolf was chilling” (or anything else, for that matter) you have a suck up, a liar, or (worst of all) a PhD on your hands.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
I remember yesterday
When to look at someone was okay,
When an elbow or a shoulder touch
Didn’t mean nearly so much.
I remember yesterday
When a compliment would make her day,
When “you look nice” was not a slur
When casually said by him to her.
I remember yesterday
When a man held doors and asked to pay,
When a bit of gentle care
Was not met with a dour glare.
I remember yesterday
When a guy could idly say
“What’s your number?” and not fear
Her screaming “rape” for all to hear.
So if you remember yesterday
In the aforementioned way
And know its loss would lead to sorrow
Let’s keep the past in mind tomorrow.
Filed under Poems
For everything there is a first:
First kiss, first game, first beer.
For everything there is a last
But we don’t celebrate those here.
For everything there are middles
Unless first and last are the same,
But we tend not to notice these
‘Cause they all seem just the same.
So I challenge you today to share
Your one-thousand-second baseball game,
Your six-hundred and eighth bus ride,
The fourteenth passing of a flame.
You never know how special
The present will someday get.
Besides, people tweet food pics
So you’re still less boring than the net.
Filed under Poems
I think I know why plants don’t speak
And the reason is this:
They cannot pronounce the word
“Photosynthesis.”
My other hypothesis
For why speech is elusive
Is that plants are politically moderate
(But evidence is inconclusive).
Filed under Poems
He’s an average Joe
Except for really rotten luck
And in a single setting
For the whole film he’ll be stuck
While he tries to save his family
From a grand conspiracy
‘Cause that’s what folks’ll pay to see
Liam Neeson do!
He seems to only star in films
Whose titles start with “the,”
Except of course for Schindler’s List
And Taken 1, 2, 3.
He’s a frequent award nominee
For both his movies and TV
Which shows that people love to see
What Liam Neeson do!
His six-foot-four-inch figure
Makes all women want to burst.
He’s never died (‘xcept in the Star Wars
That used to be the worst).
So if you go to see a show
Then you should already know
The feats he’ll do (and in slow-mo)
To show off more his manly glow
And yet somehow we still all go…
To see what Liam Neeson do!
Filed under Poems
Somewhere where the roaring wind
Can give the snow a gentle lift
A solitary wolf begins
To sing the music of Taylor Swift.
And the natives nearby lie awake
Roused by the song from their nap
And pray the wind will roar even louder
To drown out the wolf ’cause who needs that crap?
Filed under Poems
