There once was a [redacted] from [redacted]
Who really [redacted] with [redacted].
He [redacted] one day
In a [redacted] way
And [redacted] [redacted] his anus.
There once was a [redacted] from [redacted]
Who really [redacted] with [redacted].
He [redacted] one day
In a [redacted] way
And [redacted] [redacted] his anus.
Filed under Poems
Ha ha ha ha ha,
Ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha.
Wait, there’s more… (pause)… Ha.
Filed under Poems
Today I did nothing
And it was amazing!
I sat on my butt and was still.
I looked into space
And thought about eating
But lacked all the required will.
I noticed the clock
As the hours ticked by
And almost did something by caring
But I fought the urge
And then happily lapsed
Back to stillness and vacantly staring.
Filed under Poems
If I were a slug
I would say a lot of stuff
And eventually
Today is a holiday
As you likely know.
I ate. Now I’m lazy
So I’m gonna go.
Filed under Poems
There once was a poet from here
Who enjoyed quite a bit of good cheer.
He ran out of time
To make comedy rhyme
But I’ll be better soon, never fear!
Filed under Poems
Ding Chang was changing his password
To 🈚️🈶🈷️🈸🈺
But Google called it invalid
So instead he wrote 🈚️🈶🈷️🈸🈵
Filed under Poems
This evening I’m in a way
Where I feel I must say
That I feel my condition
Is quite laodicean
And thus I call it a day.
Filed under Poems
My bedroom, how graceful
The comfort it brings me.
The light through the window
Shines down from above,
And in shadows dancing
On white walls beside me
I find solace in the silence,
Alone with my love.
I remember old friendships,
The names so long forgotten,
Imagine the knowing glances
From one yonder dove,
Then flick on my TV
And lean back among the shadows,
In comfort with my companion,
My bedroom, my love.
Now not ten feet beyond it
A house, warm and welcome, beckons.
It bids me to come explore it,
Partake of its food,
And deep in my spirit
The call echoes deep within me,
But I’d have to do some laundry
And I’m not in the mood,
So I recline ever gently
My blanket’s my body’s glove,
And spend more exotic moments
In the bedroom I love.
At 8:00 my phone’s alarm clock
Plays “Ih, What a Wonderful World.”
I listen intently
To Louis Armstrong’s voice.
I see skies of blue,
White clouds, dark and sacred nights,
And see also comfy pillows
And soon make my choice.
And though I’m unemployed now
And probably approaching my doom
These words they will write on my tomb:
“His bedroom he loved.”
Filed under Poems
Sleepwalking,
Night stalking…
Insomnia is killing me.
Dead of night,
I feel no fright.
Just a few more hours ’til I’m free.
With empty hearts
And bulging carts
They leave my shelves so very bare.
Their hands are deep
In all that’s cheap.
At these poor beasts I stare.
All these hours
Living in a haze
Just a few more days
On the night shift.
I waste my life
Repeating strife,
Putting boxes back on the shelves.
My peers and I
Just want to cry,
Go home and be all by ourselves.
I ain’t got paid,
But I’ve quit and stayed.
Oh! How that paycheck calls…
I say I’ll walk,
But it’s all talk.
I haven’t got the balls.
All these hours
Hoping its a phase.
Counting down the days
On the night shift.
Then in an instant
I hear the TV:
“Todays winning numbers are
“7, 6, 5, 4, 3.”
Thirty-eight million dollars
Are mine! All mine! Then…
My boss yells “you’re fired
“If you doze off again.”
All these hours
And finally an excuse…
No need for such abuse…
Time to take another snooze…
On the night shift.