There is a mighty crater here
Where recently there wasn’t.
Ali-Baba said his bomb works
And I said “No it doesn’t.”
Ali-Baba sure was right.
Correct ’twas the hunch he had,
But he misread the bombs locale.
Thus ended his jihad.
There is a mighty crater here
Where recently there wasn’t.
Ali-Baba said his bomb works
And I said “No it doesn’t.”
Ali-Baba sure was right.
Correct ’twas the hunch he had,
But he misread the bombs locale.
Thus ended his jihad.
If you’ve always dreamed of fame
But the dream never came to fruition
I have a helpful tidbit
From yours truly’s intuition:
Drink a bunch of chemicals
Then pretend you have the flu
And with any luck some doctor
Will name a condition after you!
Filed under Poems
I hear the pitter-patter
Of the children’s tiny feet,
See them playing in the forest
Despite the sultry August heat.
They run and sing so happily.
They live without a care.
They’ll fill my belly nicely
‘Cause %^*# you, I’m a bear.
Filed under Poems
If you, dear reader, aren’t aware
Of government surveillance
Then you really ought to know
That the FBI
and CIA
Have a list of words like so:
If you write gun
Or bomb or kill
Or terrorism in an email
You’ll be on
Their list to watch
Whether or not you’re female.
If you write
Assassinate,
Anarchy, or Iran
Then your social media page
Will probably get a scan.
I tell you of
This fact because
My blog needs to get more views.
You’ll know if it
Worked out okay
When my arrest is on the news.
Filed under Poems

Bobby was an antelope
That lived out on the plains.
He had a happy smile
To conceal his inner pains
‘Cause though he was an antelope
What Bobby always sought
Was to turn into a camel.
Eventually that’s what he got.

Bobby’s story is inspiring
A lot like Forrest Gump.
He was a horny animal
Who just wanted a hump.
He had a little surgery
And moved to the Sahara.
To his family he said “bye”
And, to his troubles, “sayonara.”

But it turns out as a camel
Bobby suffered from great thirst.
Before he made his change
He should have thought about it first!
So Bobby died alone
Among the cacti and the sand.
He got exactly what he wanted
But it wasn’t what he’d planned.

Bobby didn’t go to heaven,
Nor to limbo or to hell
Because there is no afterlife
For our heroic trans-camel.
So if you really want something
A little or a lot
Use Bobby’s tale of woe
To eliminate that thought!
🐮🐪😁🌵☠️💡💔
Filed under Poems
Like oil in a lamp
Your body casts light
On those huddled around you
In the heart of the night.
Made brave by your radiance
We shall never tire,
But I still wonder why
Someone set you on fire…
Filed under Poems
The pot called the kettle black.
The kettle thought the pot was a racist kind,
But then kettle saw that the pot was black too
And, quoth the kettle, nevermind.
Filed under Poems
Yo, ‘sup homie.
I got da shizzow:
It’s a portrait I did
Of dis half-smilin’ hoe.
It’s all kinda dark
In a beige kinda style
And I figga the critics
Gonna rave for a while.
I got some new model
But wut’s dat bitch’s name?
Moana? Le’isa?
Nothing worthy of fame.
They’ll ask why’d I paint it
And wonder howso.
Too bad I was trippin’
And forgot her brows yo!
#Wurd
Filed under Poems
They said my spirit animal
Was an angry polar bear.
That irked me, so I killed them
And just left them lying there.
Then I paddled my polar ice cap
Back to my home/cave a winner
Where I slept a couple weeks
And ate a penguin frozen dinner.
Filed under Poems