Tag Archives: Life

Poetry > Humans

When, in poems, rhyming’s done

Most people think its lots of fun

But in day-to-day conversing

I notice the trend of fun reversing.

It’s as if, when someone speaks

And you interject a word like “creaks”

The custom of matching final phonemes

Becomes less fun than it, in poetry, seems.

So whenever people get in a huff

When my replies happen to rhyme with their stuff

I’m glad to use this blog as a replacement

For talking to people outside of my basement.

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Quick Bonus Poem

If you want to feel sadder

Than you’ve ever felt

Imagine a world

In which cheese doesn’t melt.

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Almost Never Say Never

They said man wouldn’t walk on the moon

But a few brave souls proved them wrong.

People still pay to see an opera by Wagner

That’s more than 24 hours long.

People say “finding your passion” is silly

But it sounds like a solid idea to me.

But we’ll never have a Jurassic Park movie

Featuring common sense and decent security.

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My Angsty Years

Somewhere around fifth grade

I asked myself why

I should work to make money

‘Til I get sick and die.

So I sought counter-culture,

Tried to listen to rap

But found “counter-culture”

Espoused the same crap.

Fight club was edgy

But I don’t like fighting.

MGTOW was compelling

But I’m fond of white-knighting.

So here I was, trapped

Between primness and zeal

Before I found out

That’s what most people feel.

The thug life chose me

But because I abhor it

I friend-zoned the thug life

And we’re both better for it.

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Paper Heart

Twenty years or so before

I turned the age of 24

I feared to give a paper heart

To that one special lass.

Ten years after, now 14

I’ve had my eye on other queens

But my feeling for the paper heart girl

Never seems to pass.

In the present world we find

Our troubled and still childish mind

Called to give the other sex

Eternal loyalty.

I’m loyal to who understands

My paper heart and shaking hands.

Does she still exist? Perhaps

In ten more years we’ll see.

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Why I Don’t Go To Open-Mics Anymore

With a voice like something crushed between a bagpipe warming up

And an elephant gargling human teeth, kevlar, and 7-Up

She turned her face towards me (which neither she nor I enjoyed)

And said “Thank you for listening. That was “Hey you” by Pink Floyd.”

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At Least “Epic Fails” Are Epic

There is no good or evil,

Just what we like or don’t.

Nothing is impossible,

Only what we will or won’t.

For every fearful sceptic

Who says “Man cannot fly”

There is Wright or Icarus

Who’s laughing from the sky.

You’ll be blessed with many Yeses

For every worldly No.

Will you risk Youtube infamy

To give your dream a go?

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