I’m 8 “Likes” away from 21,000
In the history of my blog.
My heart is very excited
And my soul is like a dog.
If 8 more people like my crap
I’ll finally achieve my goal
Of getting as many likes as a girl
Who posts dancing pics with a pole.
I’m 8 “Likes” away from 21,000
In the history of my blog.
My heart is very excited
And my soul is like a dog.
If 8 more people like my crap
I’ll finally achieve my goal
Of getting as many likes as a girl
Who posts dancing pics with a pole.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Somebody is hurting now,
Hungry and alone.
Somebody is lonely
And addicted to a phone.
Somebody is nervous
Thinking they may be too small.
Somebody feels nothing
‘Cause they just don’t care at all.
Somebody is angry
At the world for being there.
Somebody is drowning,
Wanting nothing more than air.
Somebody’s forgotten
How to laugh and sing and dance.
Meanwhile, I am nobody
And grateful for the chance.
Filed under Poems
They made a bigger, safer playground
For the children at the school
And the big kids and the babies
Both agree it’s pretty cool,
And the makers cash their checks
For saving kids from pain
And the parents who know better
See the baby fat remain.
They made a kinder, gentler college
For the kids of yesteryear
Where thinking is discouraged
Because it sometimes causes fear
And the makers plan the lessons
And the students love their chains
And the thinkers keep their distance
And the baby fat remains.
They made predictable excitements
For the prisoners of money
And the watchers and the buyers
Say “That’s scary,” or “That’s funny,”
And the makers give themselves awards
For cutting with the grain
And the living have walked out
Because the baby fat remains.
They gave us safer deadly toxins
And harder automatic wins
And a tolerant sort of hatred
And more pleasant deadly sins.
The makers smile, their strategy
Entirely on track
Because the folks who have the baby fat
Are folks who don’t fight back.
Filed under Poems
When a child is chosen
To come down from Heaven
They’re given a choice
From between one and seven
On how hard a challenge
They want life to be.
Here’s a few quick examples
For you now, from me:
One is a plant
In a jungle somewhere
Far away from the humans
With lots of clean air.
A two is a puppy
In a rich white guy’s home
With unlimited treats
And a whole yard to roam.
A three’s like a two
Until that fateful day
When you start as a “he”
And the vet makes you “they.”
A four is a human
Who lives all their days
With a big happy family
And an annual raise.
At five you have troubles
Like sickness or fear
And just 500 likes
On that pic of your rear.
At six life can seem
Like an old country song,
But you can take comfort
That it won’t last too long.
And seven’s just you
In a hospital bed
With a Taylor Swift song
Ever stuck in your head.
I hope that this helps you
Decide your next fate.
I know that, before life,
A lot’s on your plate.
No matter your choice though
You’ll probably be fine
Unless you’re a poet
Who asked, “Hmm… what’s nine?”
Filed under Poems
Some folks say that God is dead,
But that’s misinformation.
The real truth is God is gone
On one big long vacation.
He asked his faithful angel pal
To water his plant before bed,
But the angel pal misread the note
And watered the planet instead.
Filed under Poems
When my car won’t work
Because something is faulty
I tend to get angry
Or, some would say, salty.
Yes, salt and rage fill me
Whenever I fail…
That’s reason 18
I’m glad I’m not a snail.
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
It’s forty-seven Fahrenheit;
The sky and I are gray.
No one smart will sunbathe nude
On my poor sand today.
The waves are lapping loudly
Redefining what I am:
I’m a crappy little beach
In a town called Bellingham.
Observing me are humans,
Ages 3 to ninety-five
And a pair of lazy seagulls
Simply glad to be alive.
My face is made of footprints
Carved from mud and little feet
And a single tiny castle
Built in days when there was heat.
A single browning leaf still flies
Above the tiny moat,
Unnoticed by the passerby
Who try not to emote.
Beside me are some benches
With some names carved on their backs
Of love too poor or humble
To be featured on the plaques.
A lovely woman sits on me
With eyes locked on her phone,
Avoiding passing glances
Though she’s scared to be alone.
I’m here in every season
And I listen when you talk,
Supporting you in silence
As upon my back you walk.
I’ll be here with the sunset
And I’ll welcome you at dawn.
I’m a crappy little beach
Here until you’re long since gone.
Filed under Poems
Once a boy wondered if it was okay
That he wanted to feel like a woman someday;
Once a girl asked if she’d feel more joy
If she looked and acted and spoke like a boy;
One adult wondered, for they had forgotten,
If youth was a blessing or if it were rotten;
And so this went on for more than forever
In the weak and the strong and the dumb and the clever.
Behind every eye is a mind that is yearning
To know if their heart is the only one burning,
To know if their fears are the same as their neighbors
And whether they’ll ever bear fruit from their labors.
They seek refuge from the onslaught of “uncertain,”
Ever straining to peek at what’s behind the curtain,
Answering tests that will never be graded
‘Til the years pass them by and the memories are faded.
And Amy and Andrew and Zelda and Zane
Will all long for comfort and cry from their pain,
And only the wisest know what they must do:
Merely listen intently and say what is true.
Filed under Poems
I was in San Francisco
Looking for a Gucci bag.
I saw one that was perfect
But it didn’t have a tag.
I asked the asian shop clerk
“Is this real? I’m not a cop.”
He said, “Bag not counterfeit,”
And that was bull in a china shop.
Filed under Poems