If I were a chess piece
I think I be a rook
Because I sit in corners
If just to read a book,
I like to walk in long straight lines
And don’t think it’s a hassle
When somebody mistakenly
Refers to me as “Castle.”
I’m not pious for bishopping,
Too smart to be a pawny thing,
I lack the boobs to be a queen
Or the balls to be a king…
So it’s either rook, or else a knight
Who’s called a horse sometimes…
Actually, I’m not hung like a rook…
I’m changing my choice. This line rhymes.
Filed under Poems
I don’t know if God is real
But when I went to the doc
I found my religious beliefs attacked
Which was a nasty shock.
He drew some blood, and so I asked
“What’s it called when you do a test?”
Doc said, “Diagnostic”
And I ran away (that seemed best).
Filed under Poems
A shiny new piano
Is a beauty to behold,
And music can bring life and warmth
Despite the rain and cold.
Every key and inch of wood
Brings harmony, dear reader…
Especially when dropped from the 60th floor
Onto the appropriate world leader.
Filed under Poems
You’re nervous when you look upon
Her soft, humid curves.
You want nothing more than to
Give all that she deserves
And even as your fingers shake
When you touch her humid walls
The warmth deeper within her
To all your instinct calls.
Trembling, you go inside
And hear her many sounds
As wave and wave again
Against her body pounds.
You know whatever happens
You must not be seen…
Some of you thought of your girlfriend,
But this poem’s about a submarine.
Filed under Poems
My mommy was a mother
Since before I was a brother
To my sister, and she kissed her
And tucked her into bed.
Then my mommy had another
(That was me), and then no other;
She was done, and though now I’m fun
Back then we cried ‘til fed.
And feed us well my mother did,
Both me and that darn other kid,
And I’ve attested she never rested
‘Til we kids were satisfied.
Then we got bigger and less cute;
One could walk and one could scoot,
After baby-proofing and pillow floofing
She probably wanted to hide.
Alas, we found her hiding places
And made her wipe our snotty faces.
She loved us still, despite the thrill
Having long since departed.
And then we started going to school,
Which meant less time mopping our drool.
With phlegmless floors she still did chores
As we laughed and said “I farted.”
And even when my sister was bad
(I never was, just ask our dad)
With grace and calm she’d slap her palm
Anywhere but on our faces.
When we got big and pubescent
She gave us the finest present
Like love and stuff, always enough
Yet gave us private spaces.
And oh the years of meals she cooked,
Though overworked and overlooked!
Oh the the years and sweat and tears
Endured by her for us! She
Will be remembered evermore,
For all of this, but even more:
She inspired my art. She’s old, but not a fart.
I end this poem thusly.
Filed under Poems
My nose was all sniffly;
‘Twas spring in the air.
Faster than you say “piffly”
My Kleenex weren’t there.
I went to the store
To pick up some tissue
But they had no more
And THAT was an issue.
So I grabbed my gun
And went off a raidin’
Until my nose’s run
Could be finished abatin’.
I knocked on a door
And they opened it. Fools!
I shrieked “Get on the floor!”
And I searched through their tools…
Screwdrivers, flashlight,
And nails to pound
But try as I might
There were no Kleenex found.
The cops were approaching
I could hear their siren
And I was encroaching
And expect they’d be firin’
So I took the out…
The only one I had:
I scrunched up my snout
And sniffed like my dad.
That day as the bullets
Riddled my body
I learned snot down the gullet
Is what cops think is naughty.
This family-friendly poem was inspired by my beautiful girlfriend and her nose. Blame her, not me.
Filed under Poems
Some art is low, and some is high;
You can judge which this one is:.
There was a smart guy
And this story is his:
He was a smart fellow
And he felt smart
But that isn’t yet the funny part…
See two smart fellows,
They felt smart
And that is just the very start.
Repeat with three, then four smart fellows
‘Til your enunciation mellows
And then… perhaps we’ll see, who knows…
A reason smart fellows can crinkle their nose.
Filed under Poems
If everybody had a gun
The world would be a lot of fun
And if everyone died ‘cause I was wrong
No one would complain this poem ain’t long.
Filed under Poems
There was a majestic white horse
Who was, of nature, a force.
She said “It’s alright
“That our kid’s black and white”
But her husband still wants a divorce.
Filed under Poems
Every time you set up a game
Of chess and take a pawn
You’ve created a token minority.
That’s all for tonight… moving on…
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 