Steve the fish lived in a dish
(A bowl, to be precise).
He shared his private windowsill
With two ex-lab mice.
When the mice stopped eating cheese,
Steve was not perturbed.
When they sprouted fangs and wings
He still was not disturbed.
And when the ex-lab mice escaped
To terrorize the Earth
Steve swam in circles happily
And reminisced about his birth.
And when the Earth went up in flames
And did finally dissappear,
Steve the fish was satisfied
With his one long, happy year.
Filed under Poems
If I were a mayfly
With but one day to live
I’d spend my only hours
Looking for ways to give,
And what better gift
Is there for a bunch of bugs
But a lifetime supply of happiness
In the form of chocolate Hugs.
I would build a factory
A milimeter high.
I’d hire and train the larvae
To work until they die.
I’d create a one-fly empire
To bring joy to me and you,
Only to have it crushed
By some human’s canoe.
So next time you are boating,
Running, swimming, or taking a hike
Think about the little guys
Before doing as you like,
‘Cause maybe the cure for cancer
Or diseases of another kind
Are hidden in the ephemeral
Ambitious mayfly’s mind.
If I were a Mayfly
I’d be the best fly I could be.
But alas, I’m not a fly,
So let’s go watch TV.
Filed under Poems
I swam with silver dolphins
Under a shining diamond sky,
And I learned the meaning of everything
As each one passed me by.
I learned of joy and jealousy,
Serenity and rage.
I learned the truth of freedom
And of living in a cage.
I went swimming with dolphins
And learned what life’s about.
Then I smiled as the staff
Of Sea World saw me out.
Filed under Poems
Living as a bumblebee
Is really very lame.
Your life is run by mind control
And every day’s the same.
Our homes are much too sticky
And attract too many bears.
Yellow and black are so last Spring
But no one ever cares.
It’s hard to have an argument
When your sole source of defense
Creates discomfort in your enemy
And kills you in recompense.
And so we drone and buzz and fly
And polenate a bagonia,
Humming “Fields of Gold” by Sting,
Hoping the queen does not disown ya.
Filed under Poems
If life gives you lemons
I hope you have water
And sugar and someone
With whom you can drink.
If life gives you lemons
Ask for apples instead
‘Cause they’re good by their lonesomes.
That’s what I think.
Filed under Poems
The human-style animals
Are the happiest animals on four legs.
Look around and you will see it’s true.
Yet the casual observer
May see a change in disposition
In those humanoids who walk around on two.
Little Joey always hoped
He’d grow up strong and tall
And be the smartest in his class
And good at basketball.
Sure enough he got his wish
But his face still held a frown,
‘Cause now big Joey was a man
Who wanted to grow back down.
Filed under Poems
This day we gather
To celebrate
The death of a guy
We all grew to hate.
He’s the guy who thinks
He is very important.
More important, certainly, than you.
He’s the guy who won’t listen,
Who boasts of his money,
Who gets angry out of the blue.
He the guy who feels good
So long as you don’t,
Who thinks life is a zero sum game,
And the guy who knows
Everyone is unique,
But still chooses to treat them the same.
You all have experience
Unique to ourselves
That make up our vision of the departed.
The guy who was clingy,
The guy who talked loudly,
The guy who left you broken hearted.
And so as we bury this unlikeable guy
Take a minute to think of your dislike and why,
And cherish his memory, for through it you see
The things that, to live well, you must never be.
This isn’t common, but it’s not just me
Who takes joy in sobriety,
For when the laughter is all done
I want to remember how I had fun,
And in life’s most joyous times
Like reading books and writing rhymes
A fluid ounce of honesty
Will always beat a pint in me.
For what is it we must obscure
To resort to boozing as our cure?
Fear of being seen as us?
Why should such things cause a fuss?
So give up fear and give up lies
(It’s easier than you might surmise)
And live a life, joyful, true.
Live a life with sober you.
Filed under Poems
If the sun makes people smile true,
Why does it make the sky so blue?
Why is notebook paper just-so lined?
By whom was that line size defined?
How much does a scale weigh?
What is it the fox does say?
Why start with qwertyuiop?
Why not put abc on top?
These things we will never know.
‘Scuse me, now I’ve got to go.
Filed under Poems
