Sometimes I think I’m a genius,
The zenith of human existence,
But then I give up to early
Because I can’t think of an appropriate word…
Tag Archives: poems
Individuality, But At What Caust?
A black guy names his kid J’Kwon
And no one bats an eye.
In Florida kids are named X-wing
And no one asks them why.
I choose a name like this
For the son I fathered
But when I say “My son, Z’Kyle”
The jews get hot and bothered…
Filed under Poems
Polar Bear Illiteracy Kills
A polar bear showed up today
Covered in blood, he smiled: “Hey!”
Think of why. What’s that? You can’t, huh?
Maybe it was ’cause I mentioned “Mall Santa…”
This poem was intended for December, but apparently you can’t schedule a post that far in advance. Just don’t read this for 270 days, ok?
Filed under Poems
Be Like The Index Toe
If you don’t eat roast beef
You’ll do all right.
If you have none
There’s no need to fight.
If you go to market
You’re fine by me
But it’s best to stay home
And go “wee wee wee wee.”
Filed under Poems
How To Do A Day’s Work In 60 Seconds Or Less
If anyone ever says
“Speed matters more than quality”
Show ’em this poem
‘Cause that’ll show ’em!
Filed under Poems
‘Twas the Best Of Times…
I studied some Spanish
And read a good book,
I exercised daily
And learned how to cook,
I got six pack abs
And I learned how to dance.
But I just can’t recall
What it’s like to wear pants…
Filed under Poems
The Purpose of a Bird
What is the purpose of a bird?
To fly? To eat? To breed?
Is its life a thing of choice
Or else of merely need?
If its purpose is to fly
But, hatching from its shell
Is born without the wings to fly
Can life be ever well?
If its purpose is to eat
But lacking seed or prey
Can the bird starve nobly
As nature has its way?
If its purpose is to breed
But has no living mate
Is the bird worthwhile still
Despite its desperate fate?
And what of birds within their egg
Afraid to face the light
For fear of life without a mate
Or lack of food or flight,
Who lay inside their egg, so warm,
Who never hurt or cry?
Are they blessed who never live
For they shall never die?
What is the purpose of a bird
Who cannot do a thing?
To live in stillness silently
Or else, perhaps, to sing.
Filed under Poems
