Like the velour blanket
Upon my lap
A day with you is made good
Even if it were otherwise crap.
You’ll surely be in the number of
The saints that go marching in.
I’ll love you forever, even if at Catan
You always seems to win.
Tag Archives: Mom
A 93% Accurate History Of My Mom
When my Mom was younger
She worked on the railroad
All the live-long days.
She was filled with a hunger
To escape from the railroad
And find a guy with whom to pass the days.
She hung up her axe and hammer
For an erlenmeyer flask
And took a job for Carly Fiorina.
My Dad she did enamor
And had the guts to ask
“Do you want to see a show at the arena?”
They got married in the Summer
And moved out to Colorado
And brought my future sister to the world.
Three very-good years later
A doctor in Colorado
Said “you’ve got another kid in you. A girl.”
And so you dreamt of Molly
But months later Dave arrived
And his presence made your life complete.
When I think about it, golly!
Now your life story’s archived
And only for sake of rhymes did I once (or twice…) cheat.
Filed under Poems
May 25th
Sixty-one candles,
Two and a half beards
Celebrating your many,
Many, many, many years.
I wrote these stanzas
To know that you smiled.
Happy Birthday Mom
From your second-best child.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
The Obligatory Mom Poem (Love Ya Mom!)
My mom is great, amazing, fine,
Perfect and extraordinary.
I’m grateful to her for all she does
And not naming me “Norman Harry.”
My mom is splendid, glorious, good,
Supremely radiant and such.
She supports my rhyming habits,
Even if it’s a bit too much.
My mom is strong and good-looking
And her children are above average.
She’s a fixture of nature,
Like a coral reef or lava-ridge.
My mom’s terrific, pretty good,
And her favorite color is purple.
She’s cuter than a bumblebee
And sweeter than maple-surple.
There are so many adjectives
That my mother can be.
She changed the world a thousandfold
By giving birth to me.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
The First Family: An Earlobe Story
It started as an earlobe,
Lonely and aware
That it would be much more complete
If it could make a pair,
And so it looked and listened
And so grew its ears and eyes,
And it found a brain, a face, and hair
That to its side it did bind.
And soon the first lobe found a second
And a head the two became.
They thought they’d met their goals,
Yet they still felt kind of lame,
And so the head sought out a body,
And the body sought out limbs
And soon the lobes could walk around,
And searched the world for hims.
Sure enough they found him:
Another lobe-turned-body,
And the lobe pair fell in love
‘Cause the he-lobe was a hotty.
And the bodies mixed and matched
And made a smaller version
Of themselves, and out it pushed,
Desiring an excursion.
And so was born a child
And the lobe became a mother.
The first kid was a sister
And the second was a brother.
And that is how a family
In my mind has been portrayed.
I love you mom, but seriously,
How was I really made?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 