Roses are red,
Violets are purple.
If you’re seeking bad poems,
I’ve got a curple.
Roses are red,
Violets are not.
But they share one addiction:
They can’t live without a pot.
Some roses are red,
Some roses are white.
I forget about violets,
But nobody gives a s***.
Filed under Poems
The most important thing you do
As I parent I expect
Is naming your child in a good way,
So they will live a life that’s correct.
If your last name is “Handbasket,” don’t name your kid “Helena.”
If your last name is “Cummins,” don’t name your kid “Dick.”
If your last name is “Cox,” don’t name your kid “Maya.”
If your last name is “Shaw,” don’t name your kid “Rick.”
If you do these things, your child will be fine
As long as when your pregnant you don’t drink too much wine.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Today, Americans remember
One of the greatest travesties to befall our nation.
We may review footage from the crashes
And to patriotism, pray for salvation.
But patriotism is not the lesson I learned from 9/11.
I don’t look at the events that occurred as why America must win at the expense of others.
In those attacks, 2,996 people lost their lives.
In the 11 years that followed, war has made 7,977 grieving mothers.
If we learn anything from 9/11,
Let it be that revenge does not pay.
That we may be terrorized, but not terrified.
That we can choose if tormentors get their way.
No matter what menace may strike us,
Whatever liberties they hope to take,
Whatever towers they may destroy,
Whatever impact they hope to make,
They cannot take our ability to choose joyfulness,
To be happy under a new moon as well as the sun,
And if we have joy, our tormentors lose.
Because of hope, not revenge, we won.
Filed under Poems
Dear readers, I am pleased to say
That on this wildly average day
I post this poem here for you.
It’s my hundredth post. Yes, it’s true!
I’ve talked of love and monkey bars
And written some terrible stuff about cars.
But today I write another note to you
To give my thanks, and ask something too.
What is it you like about
This blog right here? Just shout it out!
Do you prefer the parodies?
Do you prefer the melodies?
Do you enjoy the serious stuff,
Or do you prefer the puns and fluff?
Is there a poem you wish you’d seen?
I want your preferences to glean!
So please let me know what you think.
And I’ll continue to write and dink
On this forum for all to see.
I’ll be back tomorrow, so thank you.
-Me
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
A cop from Detroit had a tazer
That he hid underneath his blazer.
He was good in a fight
Until one dark night
When he was killed by a guy with a laser.
There once was a man from Currant
Who gave trousers as gifts to his Aunt.
The pants tore in half,
And he ran like a calf,
But in the end he gave only one pant.
There once was a lady from Maying
Who wore yoga pants that were fraying.
To me it did behoove
That I saw the lips move
But I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Filed under Poems
When life is dull and boring,
And your mind is full of snoring,
And your sanity has lost it’s mooring,
We turn to solitaire.
It’s a stupid little game
Of cards. though having fame
The hobby is still rather lame.
The hobby of solitaire.
And now I’ll announce this:
(Correct me if I miss)
No one has fun in the abyss
Of desperation called solitaire?
Maybe when you were five,
And the game was so alive!
So fresh and new, the jive!
The jive of solitaire.
And so this poem ends.
Did it have a point? Depends
On how your viewpoint bends.
Now I’m leaving, for solitaire.
Under the light of the moon
In a restaurant in June
A brand new chef prepares a steak.
He brazes it well,
And basks in the smell.
He decides to take a break.
But that chef forgot
The burner was hot
And the meat burned like the sun
That chef’s mistakes,
They razed the steaks,
And I hope you enjoyed the pun.
Filed under Poems
Did stand-up tonight
Thus this rushed little haiku.
My apologies.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
If you are reading this
Chances are you’ve been born.
You’ve probably learned how to read,
You’re on a computer, and you have internet access,
And you understand English.
It’s unlikely you’re naked.
You may be hungry
Or thirsty,
But you aren’t dangerously so.
In fact, chances are your problems aren’t that bad
In the grand scheme of things.
This is chapter one,
Your prologue,
The beginning of your life.
I ask you now to examine what you’re going to do tomorrow
When chapter two rolls around.
Look around.
Observe the dramatis personae that is the world
And realize you are not the main character.
Then, you only have to ask:
What’s my point?
Here are your options:
The villains, who are hated,
The heroes, who are loved,
The fluff, the flavor text, who are unremembered,
Or the sun, rain, and wind, giving light and life to all you encounter.
Why should you long to be a main character
When you can be the sky?
Chapter one showed you the setting
Where your life takes place.
In chapter two, we see who matters in this story of life.
So tomorrow, when chapter two starts,
What will you be doing?
Why will you matter?
Will you breathe the air, or will you be the air?
Choose now, because you never get to see the table of contents.
Few books are longer than 1,000 pages,
Most aren’t 300,
And the silly ones full of rainbows and unicorns
Are usually around 12.
If I only get 12 pages,
I don’t want 9 to say,
“And he wished…”
I want 11 to say,
“And he was, and he did, and he gave his all,
And he smiled throughout.”
So write your twelve pages as they are,
And fill them with pretty pictures of chapter one.
Throw them away,
And walk onward, shining like the sun you can be,
Into chapter two.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
