Tag Archives: Life

Ode To A Forgotten Black Hero

I think the worst injustice

That we tolerate these days

Is how we abuse the roads

In a variety of ways.

We hit the road so often,

Pound the pavement, and it’s clear

That the roads get walked all over

And quitting time is near.

We’d never stab our children,

But we stick forks in the road

Then expect it to hold on

While it carries our giant load.

It’s time to give the streets a break…

Oops! I mean let them rest!

Anyway, quit using roads

Because that’s for the best.

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There’s One Thing That Matters, And It’s Not Skin

I talk about love

And I talk about life,

How I do honest work

For my kids and my wife,

How I got a step up

From my forefather’s grace,

But what keeps me alive

Is the sweat on my face.

I won’t take a dime

If it hasn’t been earned;

Can’t regret when I failed

Because that’s when I learned.

I can say what I say

With no need for defense

Because what I say

Is just plain common sense.

So if you think I hate

Someone ‘cause they’re not white,

Consider a moment

That you may not be right.

Perhaps I respect

Those who earned their own keep

With an excess of ethics

And an absence of sleep;

Maybe the reason

You’re not on my mind

Is because I’m a doer

And I like my own kind.

You want to be equal?

Well, I want that too.

While I’m out here working

I’ll watch what you do

And when you go home

Having done what you should

You won’t think about race:

You’ll be feeling too good!

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Just FYI

Today I’m going adventuring

To a land without wifi or ceilings.

I’ll sleep in a tent

‘Til my body is bent

Just to not think about business dealings.

The poems from now to this Thursday

Were written Sunday in a blur,

So if you’re not pleased

With poems like these

You have my permission to grrr.

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How I Choose To Put Stuff In My Body

You know those ads that run late at night

Where the guy tells you how to solve life

By eating one teaspoon of Stuff every day.

After all, it’s how he found his wife

Even though he was homeless and 300 pounds

And rodents were all he digested

Until he discovered a miracle cure

That one night he just manifested.

It’s a powder with maca, ginseng, beluga,

Alabaster, carnuba, and chives

And though the FDA says it’s not tested at all

It will change many millions of lives!

Well the guy selling Stuff that the FDA doubts

Saying it will make everything great

Has the same credentials as the Covid vaccine

Which is why I personally hesitate.

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The Worrier’s Day Off

I’ve just been so busy!

I need to relax,

So I’ll sleep in a bit

And eat a few snacks,

Go for a walk

Or do something constructive,

Then blame myself for

Not being productive.

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Ode To A Misplaced Pineapple

Some days you are happy

And some days not so much,

Like when you’re buying groceries

Like bread and fruit and such,

And you put a bag down

And unbeknownst to you

A pineapple falls out upon

A chair not in your view.

Later, when you’re tired

From putting food away

You sigh and stretch and yawn

And then you murmur, “What a day.”

Some days you are miserable;

Some days you sing and dance.

Today I did both, for I sat without thinking

And also without wearing pants.

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How To Win The Internet

My most popular poem has 58 likes.

Second place has just 24.

It’s caused me to think, and even consider

Just writing to please the bots more.

After all, if what gets me exposure

Is whatever the A.I. likes best

Is that not the way to become popular

And say to the world, “I’m the best?”

And that, my dear readers, is madness!

It’s crap of the highest degree,

A symptom of how the internet age

Can inspire such insanity.

Art doesn’t need to be popular;

Life doesn’t need to be flawless;

When the rules of the game are to lie, cheat, and steal

Then the answer is just to be lawless.

I’m not going to think about numbers.

I’m not going to worry about views.

I’m going to write about what makes me happy

Instead of what’s big in the news.

And if you are willing to venture

To a world where you’re thought of as “lame”

I think you’ll find what happiness comes

When you too quit the internet game.

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This Greeting Will Blow You Away…

If we didn’t announce hurricanes

Just for a year or two

No one would die in a hurricane again.

Also, I’m fine. How ‘bout you?

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Works Cited: History, Personal Experience

I’ve been thinking lately

About a particular query:

“Does anyone know what’s going on?”

And I’ve finally formed a theory.

Here is that newfound theory

I derived from many factors:

“The ones who seem most confident

“Are dumb, or else good actors.”

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Legalize Normalcy

If you call yourself a poet

You’re judged by your degrees,

The person who you voted for,

How often you hug trees,

Whether you can rhyme things

Or use semicolons right

And, most important, whether

You have a penis or are white.

I am not a poet,

Though to you that’s no surprise.

I’d rather sleep in Saturday

Than watch the sun arise.

I do not care for wheelbarrows

On which so much depends.

I’m one of the mere commoners

Whom nobody defends.

I write, not for an audience,

But for the ones like me

Who want to dance the rain away

And feel completely free

But have to read a book about

What things are right to say,

Waiting to dance in private

Once the poets go away.

I feel like a geode,

Full of color, trapped in stone,

But thanks to anonymity

I needn’t be alone.

I can be with all of you

And hold you in my heart

By failing to see beauty

In what poets call their art.

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