Tag Archives: Fear

When You’re Flying In 16A

Like the great beluga whale

It weighs a couple tons,

Is pale as homemade yogurt,

And very seldom runs,

It makes a high-pitched squealing

When it means to share its views.

It mentions it’s in 16B

And apparently that’s good news?

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The Rebuke of Sgt. Stayalive

Bring thy swords and don thy mail.

Ensure your steed is fed.

We’ll ride before the morning

And may never go to bed.

Bestill the fear within your hearts

Though the menace so approacheth.

If thou disobey these things

Then thou we will reproacheth.

Our phalanx must stand in unity.

Our legion must conglomerate.

Your questioning, if it should show,

Brings nothing but drama ‘r hate.

We ride! We ride to battle!

To death and glorious war!

And it doesn’t help morale if you

Keep asking “but what for?”

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RIP Bob (1945-2014), Most Valuable Employee (2015-Present)

A lot of Toms and Dicks and Harrys

Think of death as something scary,

But I see little cause for fright

In the unknown of an endless night.

Say a chicken passed away.

Some would cry and weep and sway

But I would fry it in some lard

In lieu of writing a sympathy card.

So if a friend or neighbor dies

Would it not be equally wise

Not to equate God to a beast

But to sell the corpse to Fancy Feast?

And if you are the one to pass

Why not do it with some class?

You’re dead, but life need not end. How?

Well, some call centers are hiring now…

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She’s Got Legs!

I see a little spider

Crawling up my leg.

A part of me is screaming!

It wants to plead and beg,

But as the beast gets closer

My mind begins to clear

And I realize that, in this spider,

I have nothing to fear.

And so I watch her scuttle

From my ankle to my knee.

My two green eyes watch her

And her eight black eyes watch me,

And as our eyes make contact

I feel our spirits join.

The spider and I are friends now

As she crawls over my groin.

The spider meets my pelvis.

She passes o’er my hips.

Where once they brought me horror

Her eyes could now sink ships.

Her silky brunette body

Tempts me towards an unnamed sin

And I find myself attracted

To a patch that looks like a violin.

The spider now is crawling

Onto my left pectoral

And my mind’s engaged in matters

Of arrangements marital and floral.

She crawls onto my neck now,

Her gorgeous eyes the size of fleas.

She’s nearly to my head now

And I’m nearly on my knees.

She crawls onto my soul patch

And one of her footies slips.

I catch it and replace it

And she crawls onto my lips.

A kiss! A kiss! How lovely

As her mandibles meet mine.

I slip off into a restful sleep

As on me she starts to dine.

I don’t wake up that evening,

Nor tomorrow, nor the next,

Yet dead and cold as I may be

I do not feel vexed.

So when you see such spiders

In their web or in their lair

Instead of giving them the Kleenex

Try to show them that you care.

For though you’ll never meet them

On account of being desiccated

Your eyes will fill with baby spiders

To which you just might be related.

The babies ask “where’s daddy?”

And mommy spider’ll have a chat

And then they’ll go find  love like us.

What’s more beautiful than that?

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The Real Darkness Approaches…

Once a year we celebrate

The gruesome and bizarre,

The stuff that gives clowns nightmares

And makes wolves hide under cars.

We make light of the horrific,

Let go the values we hold dear…

We call this celebration “tax day”

And it’ll come in half a year.

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The Quest For Common Sense (And A Wonderful Resource For Those Who Fail It)

I tell this tale and sing this song;

‘Tis neither short nor over long.

It is the tale of whom I met

When towards the darkness off I set.

I ventured to a fright’ning spot,

All at one both cold and hot,

And in its center stood the tree

Of personal responsibility.

And beneath that mighty central birch

I met a figure on its perch,

A lovely human, clean and bright

Yet I stood only half its height.

It spoke to me with radiant voice:

“To you I grant this single choice:

“To leave my grove, still safe and dense

“Or to eat the fruit of common sense.”

I looked again at the dreadful tree

From which grew apples, light and free

And with the hymns of wisdom fair

Filled joyfully the grove’s clean air.

And then I looked beyond the wood

To whence I came. Alas, still stood

Where man and beast were much the same,

Obsessed with power, sex, and fame.

To the glorious figure I did ask

What treachery hid within my task,

What fear and pain accompanied

The fruit of logic and its seed.

“No pain at all,” the figure said

Extending apples, smooth and red.

I knew not what was wrong nor right

But I grabbed the fruit and took a bite.

No longer was the forest bleak.

I couldn’t hide. I needn’t speak.

Where once the darkness clutched my heart

I only saw the world’s true art.

Where once I begged, now I produced.

Where once I guessed, now I deduced.

Where once had stood the figure bright

Now stood a mirror to my sight.

And yet the place from which I came

Sat glumly, still the very same.

I stood in brightness, stared at black,

And knew I never would go back.

So if you wander, wondering

Why you’re not pleased with your new thing,

Why your whole life seems second best

I summon you to join my quest,

To seek out forests rank with fear,

And from them soon there will appear

The brighter, lighter, clearer you

That knows and does what’s right and true,

Who looks at worlds of smog and spite,

Yet does his best and smiles despite.

Eat the fruit and so commence

Your brand new life with common sense!

But if back home you would return,

If common sense you seek to spurn,

If you treat dumbness with aplomb

You’ll find your kin at Facebook.com

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Never Thought I’d Miss “Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat?” But Alas…

“If I were a pickled spleen

Kept in a jar for 30 years

Charged with electrical current

In a chamber full of your darkest fears,

Then released from the jar on a Sunday

And carried overseas by some birds

To attend celebrations in Istanbul

Would you still kiss me afterwards?”

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