Like a printed photo album,
A collection of CDs,
The World Book Encyclopedia
Or watching things live on TV,
Like “Internet Explorer”
Or a brick-and-mortar store
Or carrying dimes to make a phone call
I don’t need you anymore.
Like a printed photo album,
A collection of CDs,
The World Book Encyclopedia
Or watching things live on TV,
Like “Internet Explorer”
Or a brick-and-mortar store
Or carrying dimes to make a phone call
I don’t need you anymore.
I asked a higher being,
The all-knowing and all seeing
If I should turn my life around
Or stay the same, all safe and sound.
I saw a vision in the blue
And what it said had to be true.
I summoned my courage and focused my zen.
It said “Reply hazy. Try again.”
Filed under Poems
You’ve got Candy Crush,
Farmville, Minecraft,
Plants vs. Zombies,
And the TV show “Shaft.”
You’ve got Halo 1-6
And Super Smash Bros Brawl.
As a lad, all I had
Was Space Cadet Pinball.
Filed under Poems
I remember the days of yore
When if you made a call
You could not use the internet.
No you couldn’t. Not at all.
I remember the olden days
When a prune was a “dried plum,”
And when Superhero movies
Were as tacky as they’d come.
If you complain about the future,
These are the comforts you should seek.
Besides these three things, however,
Yeah… The future’s kinda bleak.
Filed under Poems
‘Twas a short and hectic year
That crawled by a month at a time.
I ended most days with sleep
And started all with a rhyme.
I was unemployed for a while
After graduation,
But somehow I survived
And avoid flagellation.
I discovered the forbidden joys
Of anime and manga,
Continued doing improv,
And never lined a conga.
Now I work with Aflac,
With my days spent on the road,
But when I go to sleep at night
My shoulders lose a load
Because when I pull the covers
Over my weary head
I’m an undercover agent
Whom no government wants dead.
‘Twas a five-and-a-half stanza year.
Thanks for laughing with me here.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
It’s hard to write a poem
About the color orange
Without the introduction
Of the convenient rhyme of “door hinge.”
But orange is not a color
So much as a happy time
When it shines with gold as a sunset
Over fields of orange and lime.
Orange is every childhood
When you bought the collared shirt
In a pumpkin shade with a purple sweater
As you rolled amidst the dirt.
But as you ran between the Autumn trees
With the citrus sun burning your feet
And your fashion clashing, you realized
Being a kid is pretty neat.
Filed under Poems
Udders and spots and bells and poo:
These are the things that remind me of you.
And whenever I miss your voice or your smile
I drink some milk and remember a while.
Filed under Poems