If you ever feel bored,
Like you know nothing new,
Just imagine the spy
Who’s whole job’s to watch you.
Tag Archives: Boredom
Dearest Saturday
I worked all week,
I sweated and toiled,
I broke my back,
My plans were foiled,
My heart was shattered,
My brain turned to goo
So that, Dearest Saturday,
I could make it to you.
I slaved and I slobbered.
My displeasures grew
As I sat through lectures
I already knew,
I held off angry clients,
Protected my pen
So that we, Dearest Saturday,
Could be one once again.
Metaphorical dragons
Have fallen before me,
Slain so I could assure
That you would not deplore me,
And although I am thankful
To not be deplored
Why is it, Dearest Saturday,
That I’m this freakin’ bored?
Filed under Poems
Dracula’s Social Life
Why does the slain dragon
No longer roar?
Why must we hear nothing
From the trophy boar?
Why does Mr. Presley
Play music no more?
Why must other dead things
Be such a snore?
Filed under Poems
No Accounting For Taste (97% Fiction)
Four days ago I wrote a post
That said my throat was sore.
It still is and I’m tired
And I’m snowed-in and I’m bored.
I’m wearing just a bathrobe
That’s drenched in day-old phlegm.
Still no luck with the gals on Tinder…
Well, I don’t know what’s wrong with them.
Filed under Poems
The Good Life
You haven’t bought an ostrich
For several months at least,
Nor have you cooked a lemon
In chestnuts, corks, or yeast.
You’ve never thrown a hand grenade
At some Windex in L.A.
So quit telling me you’re bored
And please just go away.
Perception of Eternity
Time is not eternal:
It will someday go away,
And we’ll be left in timelessness
For eternity to stay.
Time is not eternal:
We’ve only got today,
But luckily we have meetings
To make it feel that way.
Filed under Poems
Strategy Meeting
I watch my life go by
In factors of sixty.
That little rotating stick,
The flashing colon,
The unending count
Of passing seconds.
No matter how angry the birds,
How many temples I fail to escape,
Or how many aces lay buried
Beneath twos of their own suit,
The hand will not speed up.
My hopes, and my battery, are dead.
When will this meeting end?
Filed under Poems
I’m Just That Uninspired
I thought about it.
Then I thought and thought some more,
Yet I still wrote this.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Bee Minus
Living as a bumblebee
Is really very lame.
Your life is run by mind control
And every day’s the same.
Our homes are much too sticky
And attract too many bears.
Yellow and black are so last Spring
But no one ever cares.
It’s hard to have an argument
When your sole source of defense
Creates discomfort in your enemy
And kills you in recompense.
And so we drone and buzz and fly
And polenate a bagonia,
Humming “Fields of Gold” by Sting,
Hoping the queen does not disown ya.
Filed under Poems
He Looks Just Like You
I’ve got a crippling fear of insects,
But that’s not much of an issue
Since I work inside a hospital
In the birthing ward.
From time to time, an ugly baby
Will burst forth into my view.
I’ll say “oh look, he’s cute as a bug,”
‘Cause it’s honest and I’m bored.
Filed under Poems
