Tag Archives: Children


If you never rode a bicycle

From the top of dead-man’s hill

And hit 100 miles an hour

And then took a wicked spill

And sprayed your blood all everywhere

But didn’t cry one bit

Then son, you are a wussy.

If you did, you’re full of it!

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Giant peaks of scarlet leaves

Mixed with auburn, amber, gold

Summoning the child within

To leap in, safe from autumns’s cold.

Into the fallen leaves in hues

Of flame and fortune children fly

And gentle wind, October’s whisper,

Seays so gently from the sky.

Hours after laughter leaves

The leaves themselves, scattered, wild,

Echo of the past adventures

Of literal and inner child.

Pumpkin pie and jokes await

‘Til snow fulfills poor Autumn’s fate.

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How Covid REALLY Started

The school buses are back on the roads

And people are not happy.

They carry children by the loads

And make the traffic crappy.

What if instead of the buses

All the kids just stayed home sick?

Sure, the minuses outweigh the pluses

But the traffic would go quick!

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An Alternative To The Lemonade Stand

When you experience the Summer

And it’s so hot that you say “Bummer”

I have a solution to your caper:

A fan made from some folded paper!

You can make your own cool Heaven

From a folded eight-and-a-half by eleven

That you swing repeatedly at your face

And hope you cause air to displace.

This air will make your sweat go poof

And you go from hot to cool, aloof.

Buy one now! They’re really nifty!

Or buy two for just $18.50!

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Coming Soon To A Kindergarten Near You

There once was a five-year-old child

Who was happy, and ran somewhat wild.

This continued unabated

Because the child wasn’t medicated

And thus several lawsuits were filed.

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For A Very Tolerant Mother On This Auspicious Day

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.

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The Real Monster Is The Underpaid Babysitter Who Reads This Poem To Your Kids Before Bed

Beds are safe and soft and warm

And in them you won’t come to harm.

But when you wake to pee at night

Then be harmed you may well might.

That’s why when you have to pee

Don’t get up for the W.C.

Your mattress was absorbantly designed

And I promise mom and dad won’t mind!

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What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

Some kids will say “Astronaut”.

Some kids will say “Surgeon.”

Some kids will say “Engineer”

Which means they misspelled “Virgin.”

Some kids will say “A Hero

“Dressed in armor and a cowl.”

But props to the kid who said

“I’d be your girlfriend’s towel.”

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Ah, School…

Remember the days when you thought

Whether you’d be successful or not

Was dependent on if you were right

About whether it’s stalagmite or stalactite?

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Neverland Envy

It’s fun listening to kids complain:

“I don’t want to make my bed!

“I don’t want to eat dinner!

“No! I only like red!”

It’s fun to see them cry about

Their multitude of misery

Because I can imagine how great

It would feel if that were me!

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