Tag Archives: Poetry

When The School Counselor Gives Up

Just because last time you jumped

You injured yourself in the fall

Doesn’t mean you’ll be mistaken

If you once again give it your all.

Just because last time the verdict

Did not go the way you intended

Does not mean your life will be better

If you avoid being offended.

Just because pain is eternal

Doesn’t mean you should quit having fun.

Don’t be a fool! Get up! Go to school!

And oh, by the way, here’s a gun.

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See Also: Family Reunions

I wish there were a reality show

Where contestants stare at the screen

And ooh and ahh intermittantly

As if the viewer’s being seen

And ask deep, personal questions

Though their answers are rehearsed

Then during the end credits

Debate which viewer is the worst.

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Thinking Ahead

Today I want to teach you

How to preemptively retort:

This poem is like your penis

So you can’t complain it’s short.

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Trust The Science

A while ago, a farmer

Would be thought a cause of harm

If he didn’t use asbestos

To fireproof his farm.

A while ago a woman

Who was pregnant and upset

Was told her pain would go away

With a tasty cigarette.

A while ago a baby

Was calm as calm could be,

Unbothered by those nasty flies

Thanks to some DDT.

They told them “Trust the science”

And “You’re selfish to abstain.”

So here we watch as history

Repeats itself again.

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Saving At The Pump

I met a lady buying gas

Who said her name was Penny.

There were ladies prettier,

But surely not too many.

As she was about to finish

Putting gas into her car

I saw her pull a lighter out

To ignite a cigar.

I rushed over and tackled her

Before the fire could start.

I explained why such a plan

Was neither safe nor smart.

I wish I could say that she

Would one day be my wife

Because I had wits quick enough

To save my Penny’s life…

But alas, the very next day

I wasn’t there, and she burned.

At least her cremation was free;

A Penny saved, a Penny urned.

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If “Breaking Bad” Starred An English Teacher

I was feeling very upset

Because I was a spammer

And all my emails were ignored

Because my targets had bad grammar.

My mother tried to comfort me…

She sat me in a chair

And patted my back and told me

“Itll bee all right. Their they’re.”

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Holy Sheeeeeee…

Somewhere there’s a holy cow

In a field where you can stroke it

That gives a little holy “moo”

Whenever you invoke it.

Behind it is a steaming mound

Of what was once it’s dinner.

As for who folks invoke more?

I think we have a winner!

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They DO Hoard Gold And Love Princesses…

Today a friend was stalking me

Online (with my permission)

And came upon this blog o’ mine

(A most unwise decision)

And as we got to talking

She inspired me to write

A poem about dragons,

Thus my topic for tonight!

But what about a dragon

Would amuse a reader new?

Perhaps my thoughts on bacon

From a dragon’s point of view!

For if I were a dragon

And consumed my daily meat

I’d think a dragon with good taste

Would think bacon’s a treat…

But how’s a mighty villain

Who’s as hateful as he’s big

Going to get the finest strippings

Of the kingdom’s finest pig?

Now, I am not a dragon

(Through no fault of mine… I’m trying!)

And so thinking with a dragon’s mind’s

As likely as pigs flying,

And since there is no evidence

That dragons found a way

To eat sufficient bacon

To make problems go away

I came to the conclusion

That I think must ring true-ish…

Dragons don’t eat bacon,

Therefore dragons must be Jewish!

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Women Turning Down Dates Be Like…

I wanted to take a moment

To tell you I adore

The way you walk, the way you talk,

The way you smile. What’s more

I wanted to appreciate

How kind you are to me.

Like rain in Spring, new life you bring

To everyone you see!

You’re honest, humble, gentle, strong,

As well as smart and brave.

You’re a man no woman can

Deny she’s always craved.

I think you’re the pinnacle

Of manliness. So there!

But I can’t go to see that show

‘Cause I have to wash my hair.

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Wind Chimes

Sometime in the distant past

Somebody’s wife I suppose

Decided to hang a bunch of pipes

So whenever the wind blows

It makes the sound of a little kid

Assaulting a glockenspiel

And she sold these things for thirty bucks

And I don’t know how I feel…*

*That’s a lie. I love them. They are wonderful.

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