See spot run.
Spot runs fast
Because if Spot
Comes in last
Spot will lose
His family’s approval
Which will lead, in relation
To his house, his removal.
Spot enjoys
Not living on the street
So Spot runs fast.
Of foot, he is fleet.
Spot comes in second
Which Jane thinks is slick.
Alas, Spot’s owner
Is a Dick.
Filed under Poems
Roses are reds,
Violets are blue,
These are both valid points, and I’ll address them in a moment, but first…
But does anyone stop to comfort the violets in their sorrow? Even once?
No!
You know, depression is a chemical imbalance and has many dangerous side effects. But when it becomes a part of ones identity, as it has for the violets, it transcends its mortal debilitation and becomes a blight on the very soul.
When I’m elected, I’m going to make violets purple again! And not by adding rose colored glasses, no. Not by that. Who needs all the thorns roses bring anyway? No, I dream of a garden where honest, hardworking violets can grow bigly without the radical redness of roses!
In other words, f*** you roses.
Let’s Get Pruning ™
This poem brought to you by Goldman Sachs.
Filed under Poems
It was one of those days
When you want apple pie
But the waitress is cute
And you’re just too shy.
It’s one of those days
To spend at the riverbank
But when you drive there, the water’s
All stuck in a tank.
You want to hang out
With men who are classy
But good guys are drunk, so you settle
For guys who’re half-assy.
And you and your half-assy
Friends you’ll soon see
Just sit around singing
About mortality.
Oh my my,
I missed the American pie.
Drove my chevy to the levy
But the levy was dry,
And the good old boys
Were drinking whiskey and rye.
Yeah, I guess this’ll be
The day that I die.
Hey honey bunny,
Maybe you can help me?
I’m trying to think of a rhyme.
I need a word that means “nectar”
That rhymes with “rabbit.”
I’ve thought about it for a long time…
Filed under Poems
Oh you’d better watch out.
You probably will die.
You slept with your sister,
Not gonna lie.
Game of Thrones is coming to town.
You’ve finished the season
And now you must wait.
Don’t lose your head…
Oops, too late.
Game of Thrones is coming to town.
The characters are creepy.
The show keeps you awake.
They’ll kill off eveyone you like,
So like Joffrey for all our sakes.
‘Twas a quiet day in the house
And a good day to be a mouse
For as the sly poet tried to come up with crap
The cat on the floor flew onto his lap.
“Hello there kitty,” the poet did shout
As the cat proceeded to let its hair all fall out.
The poet spoke more and stroked it’s blonde fur,
And the cat licked itself and mumbled a purr.
Then the poet’s appointment, confirmed as it was,
Took precedence over the self-licking fuzz.
And so he departed, and the cat in the lap
Lay down in his sheddings for his apathy nap.
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There was too much water,
At least a gallon or two.
Little intestine was struggling
To make some pee for you.
The intestine thought “I think I can.”
As it turned out, he could.
If you didn’t like this poem
Small intestine says “you should.”
Filed under Poems
So many Depends
On a red wheelbarrow,
Speckled with what we hope is rainwater
Beside the white chickens.
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(A Parody of “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses)
Welcome to the Tundra.
We’ve got fun and games.
We’ve all got PhD’s, Honey
And we’re all named Frank or James.
One hour on Skype’s all the social
Intercourse we need.
If you’ve got a scientific grant,
We’ve got your deep freeze.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra.
Watch it bring you to your knees.
I want to watch you renew our funding please.
Welcome to the tundra.
We take it day by day.
If you want it, you’ll wear lots of fur,
And get industry-competitive pay.
And if you’re a very sexy girl
Let likes to talk and chat
You better get your cell phone out
‘Cause us guys don’t dig all that.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Feel my, my, my polar bear.
Ooh, you’d better grow your hair.
Welcome to the tundra
Where we’ve got two-hour days.
You learn to live like an animal
In our permafrost-sampling ways.
If your hungry, here’s an MRE.
You’ll get used to them eventually.
You can have anything you want
Unless it’s fresh, flavorful, or hot.
And if you’re high, you’re actually
At the same elevation as everyone else.
You know where you are;
You’re in the tundra baby.
Your skin’ll get dry in the tundra.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Studying stratification.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Writing your dissertation.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra
Extrapolating from incomplete information.
In the tundra, welcome to the tundra.
It’ll bring you to your
Required credits of applied study. Ha!
NFL Commentary
How do you like those Animals?
They’ve got grit and size and speed.
Getting the ball from the QB’s hands
To the receiver’s what they need.
They’ve got guys who make a difference,
They’re just as strong as they seem,
And I think they’ll be successful
If they score more than the other team.
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Tagged as Commentary, Football, Good Advice, Humor, Parody, Poetry, Postaday, Sports