Have you ever looked up at a cloud
And spoken of its looks aloud?
“That one looks like Canada.”
“I thought it looked like a pelican. Huh.”
It’s a childish game, I guarantee
But play it once to help you see
That a childish game just once a day
Makes fluffy and white what once was gray.
Filed under Poems
Plenty of fish
Want to live on land,
To lie in the sun
And play in the sand.
Plenty of birds
Want to live in the sea,
To eat what they want,
To swim and be free.
Plenty of men
Want to live in the sky,
To grow ever higher,
Never to die.
But all of these beings
Both near and afar
Can be equally happy
Finding peace where they are.
Filed under Poems
Consider ye the pancake,
Round and fluffy white
Whose presence dost command ye
Not to tarry, but to bite.
Consider ye the bacon
And the eggs and sausage too,
Who existed once as animal parts,
But now only to please you.
Consider ye the cereals,
A meal which is pourable
And whose very presence
Makes prepared food deplorable.
Finish your consideration
With a piece of toasted bread
Which equals any man or lady
In its worthiness to wed.
And so with all these options
It is time that we get real:
For what purpose exists
To eat any other meal?
Filed under Poems
Puppies and sunsets,
Music and books,
Women who give me
Those “come hither” looks.
Orange juice and blue whales
Letters that rhyme with “E.”
Those are a few of my favorite things.
Too bad the Von Trapps don’t agree.
Filed under Poems
This day we gather
To celebrate
The death of a guy
We all grew to hate.
He’s the guy who thinks
He is very important.
More important, certainly, than you.
He’s the guy who won’t listen,
Who boasts of his money,
Who gets angry out of the blue.
He the guy who feels good
So long as you don’t,
Who thinks life is a zero sum game,
And the guy who knows
Everyone is unique,
But still chooses to treat them the same.
You all have experience
Unique to ourselves
That make up our vision of the departed.
The guy who was clingy,
The guy who talked loudly,
The guy who left you broken hearted.
And so as we bury this unlikeable guy
Take a minute to think of your dislike and why,
And cherish his memory, for through it you see
The things that, to live well, you must never be.
It’s good to be a kid
Like all of us once did,
And I think we really ought to do it more,
‘Cause maturity’s alright,
And the world may be a fright,
But without some fun it’s nothing but a bore.
So kick and throw a ball or dirt
And play until your muscles hurt
And smile and laugh until your face quits its obedience.
You’ve got all the time you need,
To work and sleep and breed,
So try to play today, with great expedience.
I play hide-and-go-seek with happiness
And a sly hider I’ve found it to be.
I’ve looked in the obvious places,
But found little appealing to me.
I searched through arts and sciences,
And geographical sites galore,
But whenever I find some happiness
I’m not happy, because I want more.
And then when I tire
And I decide to quit playing,
Happiness comes out
From where it was staying.
What I learned from the game,
At least the way I construe it,
Is that happiness hides
Only when you pursue it.
Filed under Poems
Once again I write to you,
As this poet is prone to do,
To try to change the point of view
That nobody is perfect.
So close your eyes and breathe in.
Then open them so you can read again.
Here’s my theory. There’s just one sin:
The judgement of imperfect.
“You fail, she’s ugly, he’s vulgar, I’m bad.”
According to what? Why make yourself sad?
Life is happening as it always had.
Life is always perfect.
“Why is there evil? Pleasure and pain?”
“Why is there sadness, which falls with the rain?”
Why think these thoughts? What do you have to gain?
Instead, think “This is Perfect.”
Now maybe I’m wrong, and life’s simply crappy.
Maybe you enjoy being unhappy!
You think (with good reason) this poem is sappy.
I accept those reactions as perfect.
But I hope you’ll at least give this viewpoint a try.
This change in your thinking brings blue to the sky.
You will watch your blessings multiply.
Smile! Why not?
You’re perfect.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
I believe not so much in theology.
I have very little interest in geology.
But I do have a very unique philosopy,
And I’d like to share it with you.
I call this philosophy, appropriately, “Phil,”
For that is an acronym of the initials
Or the four central pillars, make of them what you will:
I hope they will apply to you.
P is for positive,
Which is often a pain.
It means to refrain
When you’d like to complain.
When you want to criticize, simply abstain,
And you’ve mastered the first part of “Phil.”
H is for happiness,
Which is no more than a choice.
When the world offers bad things, listen not to the voice
Which would make you be said, but instead make the choice
To be happy, and you’ve mastered more “Phil.”
I’s for integrity,
A hard word to rhyme.
It means to be honest, and refrain from crime.
Do what’s right, even if it’s hard, and do so every time,
And you’re almost done mastering “Phil.”
And L is for love.
It’s predictable, yes.
It’s very important, or so I should guess.
Everyone loves someone, or something, to death;
Love everyone like them, whether Elmer or Tess.
And thus, we finish Phil.
Choose to be positive, and give folks a chance.
Choose to be happy, regardless of circumstance.
Say what is honest and do what is right,
And love every person. That is “Phil.” Good night!
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Who the hell takes candy from babies?
Do you know anyone?
It’s a sick sort of thing, and I’m glad people don’t.
Babies just wanna have fun.
So when you are moody, sad or depressed
Or your dog’s been diagnosed with rabies,
Or society bugs you like it bugs me, at least
People don’t take candy from babies.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
The Daily Travesty 