Tag Archives: Humor

Haiku and Rhyming Rant on the Earth’s Most Perfect Job (With an unwritten salute to unnecessarily long titles, and other worldly pleasures)

I heard from a friend a short while ago

That a Haiku’s purpose is to tell a story

Using as few words as possible, and so

Here are some Haikus, in their polysyllabic glory.

 

“Many desperately

Ask the world for love and cash.

Many are ignored.”

 

Now, it seems I must confess

That Haiku was really depressing.

Perhaps optimism would redress

The view of life I was stressing?

 

“Many people ask

The world to give happiness.

Sometimes earth complies.”

 

Still not there yet, so I think

It’s time to make it fun.

I will now rewrite a chink

and replace it with a pun.

 

“Lots of folks get screwed

By the world for doing stuff.

Drillers, thus, are happy.”

 

And thus we stumble on the truth:

That two lines from now I’ll rhyme with lurker.

So by haiku we see, and we call “foresooth!”

To be happy, be a construction worker.

 

Construction:

Where screwing something means you did your job right.

Politician:

See “Construction”

 

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Grammar

I really hate persons

Who dont right good.

They should learn to use grammar;

Oh yes: they should.

 

Its such a simple thing

To do good at.

Me and my friends

Dont think grammars old-hat.

 

So take grammar back!

Take the, pledge, today,

Grammars real important.

Hip Hip; Hooray!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Burn

People tell me that I’m bad.

People say I’m going to Hell.

I just smile and agree with them,

And say “and you’ll be coming as well.”

 

Let’s face it guys, which is more fun:

A land of clouds and harps

Or a land of fire with a snazzy king

Who collects your blood in tarps?

 

Ok, perhaps that was a bad example.

But please look at it this way.

The devil was banished for being vengeful.

A rebellion will come any day.

 

And when there comes that fateful day

When Hell rises against Heaven,

I don’t want to fight with a harp,

So give me fire and a guy named Kevin (don’t ask me why).

 

Anyway, I’m going down when I die.

Hope you’ll join me, but if not, good bye!

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My True Love

I bought the love of my life

For a dollar ninety-nine.

At first it seemed too cheap,

But regardless, she worked out fine.

 

I like to hold her and caress

Her warm, well-rounded body.

I stroke the softness of her skin.

Her emotion’s never haughty.

 

My favorite thing to do with her

Is put her in my mouth.

Her taste is quite compelling,

Like she comes from in the South.

 

My love for her is holy.

Her feelings, I need not finagle.

I’m happy today to finally say

My true love is a bagel.

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Pop Songs

Pop songs, pop songs

Teach you the day of the week.

Pop song, pop songs

Are not sung by guys who are meek.

Pop songs, pop songs

They are easy to memorize.

Pop songs, pop songs

Are, like this poem, not very wise.

(Chorus)

Pop songs are songs

Sung by people in thongs

That go on too longs

Oh yeah!

They’re repetitive songs

That go on too longs

Sung by people in thongs

Oh yeah!

Pop songs, pop songs

They are songs in the popular genre.

Pop songs, pop songs

It’s their simplicity that has drawn ya

To Pop songs, pop songs

You getting the point yet my friend?

Pop songs, pop songs.

Now it’s time for this song to end.

(Chorus)

(Chorus)

(Chorus)

(Chorus)

(Chorus)

Fade and repeat

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How to be a Great Lover

Most men want a woman,

and women want a man.

It seems like love should be easy,

and with my new method, it can!

 

My method’s known as L.A.M.E.

and it’s an acronym

For a method that works for her

and works even better for him!

 

“L” stands for lower standards,

and that’s some good advice.

For instance, you meet a friendly man

and he likes you, but has lice.

 

Lower down your standards

and I’m sure that you’ll say

“I don’t mind that you’re icky, dear,”

and now we move on to “A.”

 

“A” stands for altercations,

and it’s best if you have many.

Celebrities fight. They fight a lot,

and they make a pretty penny.

 

So next time your lover insults you

and you feel you want to argue

Fight it out in a public place

and Hollywood will write a show for you!

 

“M” stands for me, myself, and I

and I think it’s plain to see

That you’re the most improtant part of a relationship

and that’s a good place to be.

 

So when your lover says to you

“and you never think of me,”

You’ll answer that you think of yourself

and that’s the way it should be.

 

 

“E” stands for exit plan,

and it’s probably obvious

That if you follow the instructions

and you come to “wedded bliss”

 

You’re going to need an exit plan

and you’ll already be prepared.

So try it on your loved one now,

and try not to be scared.

 

Say “Honey, you are ugly

and I really couldn’t care less.”

Then fight it out in a public place

and televise your stress!

 

Remember, love is selfish

and think of “me,” good man.

Then run to love another day,

and use your exit plan.

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Ambrosia and Nancy

I went out to a party

Last Sunday, on my trip.

While there, I saw a woman,

And my heart, it did a flip.

 

She looked so darn fancy,

In her heels and her pearls.

Her eyes were bright as starlight,

Her hair fell down in curls.

 

She smiled at me last Sunday,

From way across the room.

I had to go and meet her.

My passion was in bloom.

 

“Hello David,” she said

As flashed a perfect smile.

My heart heard songs of lovebirds,

Like it hadn’t for a while.

 

Turns out her name’s Ambrosia,

And she likes nerdy men,

Poets and musicians.

I was her perfect ten!

 

She led me to her lodgings,

Where we enjoyed some wine.

I gazed into her perfect eyes,

And she gazed into mine.

 

That night was full of passion.

Hey, come back here Nancy!

Who cares if she’s your sister?

She just looked so darn fancy.

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Bob and Job’s Job (and the Call from the Mob)

Job’s job in the Navy was to work with Bob

Who bobbed up and down in some pools.

At the same time, at Times Square there gathered a mob

Who were angry about layoffs and rules.

 

It just so happened that Bob and Job’s mothers

Were mobsters of sorts in New York.

They bobbed in and out among mobsters and others

And compared cops to bacon and pork.

 

Well Job’s mother’s job was a hazardous one,

And somewhere amidst all the chaos,

Fortune would have it she butt-dialed her son

As the sun shone, and the mob talked of layoffs.

 

Far, far away, Job’s job was disturbed

By the sound of a hip-hop ringtone.

So he shouted “aye aye,” looking somewhat perturbed

And his commander’s eyes eyed his phone.

 

Job said “It’s my mother,” and Bob backed him up.

“I’ve got a call from mine too!”

They answered their phones, and Job answered “Sup?”

He only heard static and knew.

 

Yes he knew, then and there, where his mother’s long hair

Did wave in the air in New York.

He hung up his phone, saluted then and there,

And with a wrench, to a pool, applied torque.

 

I’m not sure why this tale is relevant,

But the tale of a tail that’s hairy

Does not normally involve an elephant,

So of butt-dials, friend, do be wary.

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Not Quite Campbell’s…

Cauldron wide and hungry,

You will be used today.

My stomach growls; It’s rumbly.

My hair is turning gray.

If I don’t make an antidote

For this sickness, oh so grim

Then as a ghost, away I’ll float.

Yes cauldron, let’s begin.

 

First we’ll add some pepper,

then three strong legs of toad.

The teardrops of a lepper,

And dust from a windy road.

We’ll toss in eye of rabbit,

The gizzard of my neighbor,

The vegetables of an abbot,

And the figurative fruits of labor.

 

I toss in something to slicken

The consistency of this great brew.

Then I toss in an extra-large chicken,

And I gaze joyfully at this stew.

Finally, some soap that smells fruity,

And a rhino’s pustulous poop!

My antidote’s the epitome of beauty:

A witch’s homemade chicken soup.

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Coincidence (The Ballad of Spike)

Their was a young duckling

And a small piglet suckling,

Both unaware of the other.

They were quite alike,

Since they both were named Spike,

And they both had a father and mother.

 

While Spike the pig

Grew up really big

And eventually turned into sausage.

The duckling, who’s wiser

Is a financial adviser

Who tells wealthy clients of lossage.

 

What a strange happenstance

That despite circumstance

The Spikes never did meet each other.

The pig never learned

That a gold, swimming bird

Had also a father and mother.

 

And the duckling named Spike

He never did hike

or fly past his name-sharer’s farm. Uh…

I think that it’s neat

that the two didn’t meet.

This is solid proof that there’s Karma.

 

Coincidence is fun that way.

That Spike, pig, to duck didn’t say,

“Why hello there chap.

You’ve got wings that can flap,”

Before good duckling Spike flew away.

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