Today is the day if my birth,
When I first breathed the air of the Earth.
Because of my exodus
From my mom’s uterus
I now create poems with mirth.
Tag Archives: Postaday
Sometimes The Punchlines Just Don’t Come… But The Rhyme Scheme Is Different So Shut Up (Love Y’all)
I’ve never owned a yacht, believe it or not
Nor bought a car (at least so far),
Never found a bike I like
Or used my brain to get a plane,
So when I decide to buy
A helicopter, I’ll adopt ‘er.
That way I can still say
I never resort to pay for transport.
Filed under Poems
Garden My Turf, Yo
If I were a young urban strawberry
Whose life on the streets turned to robbery
You might think my booty
Would be stabby or shooty
But nope! My violence is clobbery.
Filed under Poems
Apparently “Oline” Makes Things Less Amusing
God has a sense of humor.
Ask me how I know!
I see proof in everything,
Like how the falling snow
Looks like the Millennium Falcon
Even before it was a thing,
Or how when we eat too much
Our butts spontaneously sing.
I like that sense of humor,
But one thing I don’t find funny
Is how, when I fart, my gas is free
But I still pay for gas with money.
Filed under Poems
NEVER End A Line With “Buck”
Another evening passes
Like methane from our asses,
Like the motorist that passes
Bicyclists, slow as molasses.
It passes like a buck
And the fact that I wrote buck
Means I’ll spare you from future rhymes
Because you already get the analogy.
Filed under Poems
Bertha Lent Him The Razor
There once was a redneck named Darryl
Whose back hair was fiery and feral.
But he shaved it one year
‘Cause it drank all his beers
But hey shucks! Hair will do what hair’ll!
Filed under Poems
Also, I Won My Girl A Stuffed Llama, So I’m A Better Boyfriend Than You 😋
I went to the state fair today;
We ate scones and rolled in the hay.
We waited in line
Both to ride and to dine
But ‘twas worth it for plenty of play.
Filed under Poems
Divorce, The Old-Fashioned Way
If I had a hundred camels
And a thousand mules
I could buy your daughter’s love
‘Cause those are the nuptial rules.
But you’d demand a thousand camels
And diamonds by the sack
If I got to know your daughter
And wanted to give her back.
Filed under Poems
African Chant (My First Attempt)
I think African people
Should name more children “Enad”
‘Cause then people would ask
“Where’s your kid?”
And then Enad would walk in
And people would say “Hi Enad”
And the parents would get upset
Because they think their kid got hyena’d
But then they’d realize the irony
And laugh
And laugh
And laugh some more
Because they were the real hyenas all along.
Filed under Poems
Fair Retails Before Bed
Once there was a tired gent.
To bed went he; To sleep he went.
The other folks said “Mama Mia!”
For the bed he went was in Ikea.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 