I read an inspiring article
About how blue whales reproduce.
Apparently, they interbreed with fin whales
Who are not as large or recluse.
The fact that these largest of animals
Might bring their endangerment to an end
Gives me hope. It should give you hope too
That a blue whale might be your girlfriend.
Filed under Poems
Blackberries have thorns
And grow up in the wild.
Whiteberries are bad at basketball
And their bathrooms are well tiled.
Asianberries have good grades
Which means they understand
That whiteberries are not a thing
And this poem got out of hand.
Filed under Poems
Once in every generation
There is born a chosen one
Who eats their veggie burger
Wrapped in lettuce in lieu of a bun
Then drinks a pint of water
That they brought from their house
Because unfiltered tap water has chemicals
And plastic bottles they don’t espouse.
If you are of the lucky few
Who meet this special soul
It is your sacred duty
And your most important role
To take this person to your home
And shoot them in the head
So we can stop this “special” nonsense
And just eat our meat instead.
Filed under Poems
Bumblebee, bumblebee, why do you fly
When life would be better
If you would just die?
Human, human, why do you hate
When you eat the plants
That we bees pollenate?
Bumblebee, bumblebee, sure you’re ok
In a creepy bumbley
Bug sort of way.
Human, human, we’re both Earth’s daughter
Wait, why do your hands
Hold aloft that fly swatter?
Filed under Poems
Dark shadows in the black night
As four-legged quadrupeds scurry,
Moving left and right in both directions
Quickly, as if in a hurry.
The leaves from the plants crinkle noisily
With the sound of an audible pop:
This eternal song goes on forever
And probably will never stop.
Filed under Poems
The bird flu killed my chicken.
It killed my brother’s duck.
I heard a peacock died as well
With just a sickly cluck.
The price of eggs is rising
But what worries me even more
Is how when all the planes die
Plane ticket costs will soar.
Filed under Poems
It’s morning at the vineyard
And the weather’s looking fine!
We sing hurrah and pick syrah
By bunches off the vine.
There’s Malbec for our jelly
And cabernet for wine,
Filling bucket after bucket
With pickers numbering nine.
My girl may have partaken
Of a bottle from last year.
The leaves stay green and limber
Though its fruit will disappear.
With truck beds full and spirits high
We loose a mirthful cheer!
Now we’re on the highway home
With the pickers we hold dear.
Tomorrow we’ll de-stem the lot
And barrel it to wait
Until next year’s excursion
Or ‘til 2028.
It’s a family tradition
So we all participate,
Bottling mornings in the vineyard,
Packing memories by the crate.
Filed under Poems
Giant peaks of scarlet leaves
Mixed with auburn, amber, gold
Summoning the child within
To leap in, safe from autumns’s cold.
Into the fallen leaves in hues
Of flame and fortune children fly
And gentle wind, October’s whisper,
Seays so gently from the sky.
Hours after laughter leaves
The leaves themselves, scattered, wild,
Echo of the past adventures
Of literal and inner child.
Pumpkin pie and jokes await
‘Til snow fulfills poor Autumn’s fate.
Filed under Poems
He had wavy golden locks
That fell upon her shoulders
As he held her close with one arm
While the other parried boulders.
Behind them, a volcano
Spat hellfire in the air
But the hottest thing nearby was still
His chest, sweaty and bare.
An earthquake shook the lovers.
A tsunami got them wet,
But nature had no fury
To match their passion yet.
Then a tiny spider crawled
Across her silky bosom
Which quickly quelled the ardor
Of the trashy novel twosome.
Filed under Poems
At wee early hour on the hills by my home
I’d knock on your door, heart a burning
To dance there with you
And the golden morning dew,
Giving thanks that the world keeps a turning.
When sun finally breaks, gold and heavy that morn
And we stride proud below sky a burning
I’ll feel like a king
With the first bud of the Spring
And give thanks that the world keeps a turning.
The sun at it’s apex, a blanket beneath,
And two lovers for picnic are yearning.
Her hair smooth as silk
They drink honey and the milk
In the garden of Earth, still a turning.
As years turn to lifetimes and bodies to dust
The couple does not cease their learning.
They lie, cold and still
And the two become the hill,
Still part of the world ever turning.
Remember the sunshine. Remember the lifetime.
Remember the sweet butter churning.
Remember the dawn
For someday the Earth will yawn
And together we’ll rest from the turning.
The Daily Travesty 