Tag Archives: Music

My Covenant

Some people with a time machine

Would cure diseases in the past,

Kill Hitler as a baby

To stop the Jews from being gassed,

See what dinosaurs were like

Or build the pyramids.

Some would travel back in time

To relive being kids.

If I had a time machine

I’d go to a monastery

Where people sang Gregorian chant

With ye olde Tomme, Dicke, and Harrye

And play the drum and violin parts

To the Halo menu song.

Some people would go to the future

To cure cancer, but they’re wrong.

You’re Welcome

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Hallelujah

There lived a man who wished to die,

With lips malformed so when he’d sigh

The anguish that emerged was like

The first sunrise of Spring.

The humans that he’d never known

Had from all places to him flown

With no intent to comfort him

But just to hear him sing.

The singer sang, the cryer cried

To oceans deep and mountains wide

And every human listener thought

The singer read their mind.

The speaker spoke, the moaner moaned.

His sorrows said, his hopes intoned

Leaving unspoken just enough,

Ensuring seekers find.

He screamed at them in loneliness:

A girl in far too short a dress

Confused by why she couldn’t find

A man who’d stay ’til morning

And, to the men who eyed her, said

To see her heart before her bed

But all they heard were pretty words

And not the singer’s warning.

He sang to those who owned the gold,

The young who’d never gotten old,

The old who’d never been a child,

To those without a penny.

His sharing was his means to cope.

His medicine was spreading hope

Perhaps to you, the listening few

Among the mindless many.

The living listened as he cried,

He sang also to those who died,

A song for all who made mistakes

And sought to change their fate.

Some say that Satan turned to hear

And even shed a single tear.

Although the angel fell from grace

His wings might still bear weight.

No one asked the singer’s name.

To his wake no listeners came

For clouds above were pearly white

And sky above was blue.

Thus did the singer move along.

No longer needed was his song.

The singer lives forever

Even though his wish came true.

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…Or Girls In General, For That Matter

“The devil plays the violin,

The instrument of mortal sin.”

I told her this, then said hello.

#How to not pick up girls who play cello

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If You Think This Poem Rhymes You Probably Aren’t Rich

You can tell if someone’s more likely

To play basketball or the harp

By whether they write #F

Or instead they write F#

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Tonight: Shred Monkey (Ft. The Green Bay Packers)

When it comes to choosing my dream career

I’ve finally made a decision:

I’ve decided I want to be

A major league musician…

I want to be in a band so famous

They play quick football games during intermission.

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If I’d Written This Ten Years Ago I’d Be A Prophet

As Booth did to Lincoln

And school did to fun

I fear that to music

Will quite soon be done.

If you flip the radio

(Or whichever app’s in now)

You’ll find to enunciate

Is practically sin now.

To play any chords

Besides 1, 5, 6, and 4

Makes the average listener

Call such songs a snore

And no matter the genre

You will find bits of rap.

Yes I fear that all music

Will soon become crap.

Is there a solution

To pop music’s decline?

If so, leave a comment.

If not, I’ll just whine.

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Oh Sheet…

I started a band where we’d play

Stuff other folks played first. OK?

Then I did discover

Such a band’s called a Cover,

And thus I named our band “Duvet.”

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