I was lying in my bed
With a pillow for my head
And that covered-flat-other-bit for my feet.
But my somnambulant reflections
Gave my mind well-times reflections
And I didn’t forget a poem today. Neat!
Tag Archives: Late
Perhaps The Most Extraordinarily Literal Poem Ever
Tonight, I lay in bed and rest
So tomorrow I can make a quest
Southward past the Emerald City
Where law enforcement’s really shitty.
I’m going there to see my girl,
Upon whom all my thoughts do swirl.
We’re working on my latest book
And soon you’ll get an early look!
So yeah, that’s all I have to say…
Just a life update and marketing play.
She is great and so are you
And now I need to sleep. Yahoo!
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Close Calls and My Unintentional Confession That I’m A Wimp Who Doesn’t Know What “Staying Up Late” Means
Some days I stay up too late…
Like right now. (It’s 11:38)
Thanks to my late bedtimes
I’ve kept up with daily rhymes
And not yet inspired your hate.
Filed under Poems
Autobiography, Chapter 1
Writing lousy poems
Is really not that hard.
It doesn’t take a lot of work
To be a blogging bard.
The only bit that’s difficult
Is deciding what to write,
Thus my meta-poetry
At 10 o’clock at night.
Filed under Poems
Truth, AKA The Last Resort
Once again I find myself
Besot by evening’s chill,
No longer in possession of
The time I had to kill.
My mind fixates upon the task
I’ve thus far left undone:
I swore I’d write a poem a day
And yet have written none.
Thus I lie upon my bed
Writing where I am now,
Stating the truth about my life
As syllables allow.
Now comes the peril of present-tense:
I write that I’m writing,
Now I reread the previous line
To see if it’s exciting.
I also find, where once I wrote
Six syllables then eight,
My meter has forsaken me
By virtue of it’s late.
Thus endeth my desperate foray
To create relevant verse.
To all reading I bid good night!
(Poetry is a curse).
Why I Love Football
This month we will experience
The NFL’s preseason
In which millionaires hit each other
Deapite the lack of any reason,
And we the fans will cheer
To kick our team’s rival’s posterior
Because we can’t play ourselves
Since we’re genetically inferior.
We’ll sit and eat and fart a bit
And somehow manage to sweat.
At the end half of us will sob
While half say “best preseason yet!”
Then we picture our team’s victory
And order larger pants
With the logo of some other team
That actually has a chance.
Filed under Poems
What My Mother Tells Me
When you have to stay up late
Because you’ve got a flight
You can forget until 11:56
To write your poem tonight.
Filed under Poems
A Sneak Peek At Poems From My Upcoming Senate Campaign
You may have both heard
I can’t be bothered
To write funny poems
Before evening’s chill.
I’d like to address
To the question, and yes
I will address it
Although first I will
Bring to your sense
The problems immense
That plague creativity
Such as lack of caffeine,
An unhealthy diet
(Though I’d urge you to try it),
And a sleep cycle deadly
To the health of one’s spleen.
These matters now raised
The establishment praised
Solutions that will not
These problems make right.
My plans will be different.
Now what was the question?
You don’t even remember.
With that said, good night!
Filed under Poems
Possible Political Folly = Guaranteed Comic Gold
So many nights I spent
Uninspired in my bed
Staring at the blinking cursor
With pages empty as my head.
The night after the election
So many topical jokes did flow
Which, hilarious as they might have been,
Of them the world can’t know.
A literal pot of gold
In my conciousness did lie
On the bright side much humor’s to come
Thanks to America’s choice. Bye bye!
Filed under Poems
Camelot, <60 Seconds Before This Poem Becomes Tomorrow's Poem
The table’s round.
The knights are young.
The swords are drawn
And the fu is kung.
The mists descend
Like falling water
While the king mourns
That no one has yet made “Welcome Back Kotter.”
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 