Tag Archives: Memory

When You At Least Remember the Important Part of the Limerick

There once was bobabezine

That slodda dee focus or line?

And burger da beep

Chodda wodda ga meep?

Soda wamegla SWEET CAROLINE!

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Hindsight Is 20/100

When I was ten

The world was bright.

The sun would wear a smile.

When I was twenty

The world was fun

And I ran a four-minute mile.

After I turned the thirty

The world was my oyster.

I was truly in the flow,

And now I’m ninety-eight years old

Being told “the memory’s first to go.”

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A Slight Exaggeration, But Still Pretty Darn Dedicated

I spent the morning puking

Than had a headache linger

Then had a crazy workday

As life gave me the finger.

And as my eyes began to bleed

And all my hair turned gray

All I worried about was if

I wrote a travesty yesterday.

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If By Some Zany Coincidence It Happens To Be Your Birthday Today…

What a day! 

May 25!

Let’s celebrate that 

You’re still alive!

Some years were good,

Some years were tough,

But we celebrate them all

By buying you stuff!

The folks you know

Will email and call

And write well wishes

On your Facebook wall.

And then at the end

You’ll be delighted to see

This snazzy poem

To you from me.

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In Loving Memory

Somewhere in my memory

Lies July the seventeenth.

(That’s yesterday, in case you didn’t know’st).

That was the day my mind

Was way off on it’s own.

It was the day that I forgot to post.

So in memorium

Of this flawless two-year goal,

This poet must apologize to you.

But if my memory serves,

Then the poem you may have seen

Would’ve been a pretty bad half-assed haiku.

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The 100-Year Love

I forgot your birthday,

Our anniversary,

And the day we’d planned

To spend, just you and me.

But I’m a very lucky man

To be in love with you,

I guess because, in hindsight,

You forgot them too.

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The Nature of Trophies

Once there stood a golden man
Who lived behind the glass.
He held a pose of triumph
Since he caught that touchdown pass.

For the first few years, he was well loved,
And people passing by
Would comment on that fateful game
And murmur, “What a guy.”

But as all things will die away,
So too the glory faded.
The visits and the murmurs stopped,
And the golden man got jaded.

One Winter day when school let out,
The golden man stepped down,
Opened his cage and ran away
Off to another town.

And when the children came again
And saw the case, they wondered
What person had done the act
That tore man and plinth asunder.

That day the base was thrown away
And the gold man was forgotten,
And a few days later no one cared,
And life just kept on trottin’.

And miles away, the golden man
Tossed his football to himself,
Happier having acted than
Forgotten on his shelf.

And thus is fame, gone with the win.
Victory comes when the new games begin.

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