As a kid, I wanted
To win a Nobel Prize,
To heal the sick and dying,
Or to travel endless skies.
I’d live to one-hundred and twenty
And count the many ways I thrived!
This week I got excited
When my meal-prep box arrived…
As a kid, I wanted
To win a Nobel Prize,
To heal the sick and dying,
Or to travel endless skies.
I’d live to one-hundred and twenty
And count the many ways I thrived!
This week I got excited
When my meal-prep box arrived…
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
You were the light of their life,
A celestial body just for them,
But there were a billion stars
Brighter than you.
Your heart was a mountain,
Climbing to the sky,
But roads need gravel
And miners need jobs.
You were the wind and the water,
The rabbit and the fox,
The fish and the hook
And you fed them for a day.
Stars burn out,
Roads are passed by,
Winds stop blowing,
Foxes stop chasing,
And when its dark and still
And you forget what you were,
How you burned and grew
And bit and blew,
You’ll become a part of the world
You thought you were above;
A spark, a stone, a cell, a drop,
What you always were
And always did:
Matter.
Filed under Poems
One time I didn’t poop for a week,
So I went to the doctor for help.
He gave me two options to get me to go.
The first was a mixture of kelp
And fructose with fiber, a laxative cocktail
To force my intestines to play.
The second was working a job that I hate…
And now I poop two hours a day!
Filed under Poems
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