Some people with a time machine
Would cure diseases in the past,
Kill Hitler as a baby
To stop the Jews from being gassed,
See what dinosaurs were like
Or build the pyramids.
Some would travel back in time
To relive being kids.
If I had a time machine
I’d go to a monastery
Where people sang Gregorian chant
With ye olde Tomme, Dicke, and Harrye
And play the drum and violin parts
To the Halo menu song.
Some people would go to the future
To cure cancer, but they’re wrong.
Filed under Poems
In America we spell “color;”
In the UK it is “colour” with a U.
In America it’s “blue”
InFrance it is “bleu.”
In America it’s “Hell;”
In Middle Earth it is “Moria.”
In America it’s “yay;”
In Catholic it is “Gloooooooooooooo,ooooooooooo,ooooo,oooooo…ria!”
Filed under Poems
The best men in America
All come from Arkansas.
They’re peacocks in the city
And turkeys in the straw.
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“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”
Is really a load of bull…
When there’s no meat on the table for dinner
Nobody’s like “But the bushes are full!”
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Some say Bird Jesus is a parrot
‘Cause he always has something to say.
I personally disagree because
Bird Jesus is a bird of pray.
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The woods were dark and silent
And our hunting trip did fail.
My wife said the woods were empty
But I just think the birds were male.
Filed under Poems
The dentist asked three little boys
“Every day do you floss?”
Jeff said “Yes”
And Jeph said “Yes”
And Geoff said “Yeos.”
Filed under Poems
When you remember your username
But the password you do not
And have to point out stop signs
To prove you aren’t a robot…
I think they should have a youtube ad
And if you don’t click “skip in 5”
They know you are a robot,
Or at least you’re not alive.
Filed under Poems
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
And yellow’s just like
“Wut dawg? U trippin’ bro?
“Violets are fuckin’ purple,
“And just ’cause I don’t rhyme easily
“Y’all just acting like dandelions and sunflowers and poppies and buttercups and, oh yeah yellow roses, don’t exist?
“Naw dawg, whatever. I’m out.”
Filed under Poems
The family was gathered,
The chicken was frying,
And somewhere on TV
Our leaders were lying.
I was lighting the fireworks
And feeling just fine
‘Til I held up my fingers
And counted to nine.
Filed under Poems
