Tag Archives: Postaday

Something’s Fishy… And Also Gummy

If you teach men to fish

You’ll feed them forever,

But I find that sometimes

It’s a fruitless endeavor.

I taught fishing in Sweden

But to my dismay

They were still eating candy

The very next day.

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Apocalypse? Not Now!

Apocalypse’s horsemen

Were riding home one night

When the BMW of depression

Passed them on the right.

“I think we’re now outdated,”

Said Famine to his peers

So they let the horses loose

And went out to get some beers.

The horses ran to far off lands

Where they could eternally play,

And some lucky Harley-Davidson salesman

Got four new customers today.

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The Personified Double-Negative

Tyrants will be tyrants.

Braggarts will be braggarts.

These statements are self-evident

And fear no refutation.

Logicians will be logical.

Artists will be artistic.

So do or do not contrarians

Deserve their reputation?

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Onomatopoeia

There are certain words

That are written like they sound

Life “oof” and “pow” and “shimmer.”

They really do abound.

Then there are things that make no sound

Like plants and orange and schisms

Which would make great onomatapoeias.

That’s the case with “colloquialisms.”

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If The Shoe Fits…

I lived a life of luxury.

I thought I had it all

Until I met my true love

At the climactic royal ball.

Her dress had such a shimmer,

Like her slippers made of glass.

Her smile moved a mountain

And OMG dat ass!

We danced ’til past eleven

Before she fled into the night

Leaving my heart in tatters

And a slipper in her flight.

I picked up the glassy remnant

Of the girl who once was mine

And tried it on. Who would’ve guessed

We both wore a lady’s size 9?

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How Else Would You Pass The Time When You’re All Tied-Up, Half-Naked, And Waiting For Rescue?

I bet that back in elder days,

When dragons roamed the sky

And virgins all got kidnapped

To be rescued by some guy

That said virgins played a game

Where, in a future land,

They were ordinary citizens

Who love they did demand

From virgins playing games

In which they acted like a knight

Rescuing imaginary virgins

Kidnapped by dragons. Am I right?

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I Just Rattled This One Off… Hope It Wasn’t Too Boa-ring!

The snake was made uncomfortable

And it gave a gasp.

You might say it experienced

A pain in the asp.

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Announcing: Tepid Gruel!

Hello readers! Today I’m excited to announce my next book, “Tepid Gruel and other short poems you probably shouldn’t read but will because you’re already looking at this book so, hey, why not?”

Below is the title poem from the book. I hope you enjoy because I’m proud and excited to share it with you and also because I’m very poor and want you to buy the book when it comes out. 🙂



I’m launching a new cologne line

I think is pretty cool

Inspired by the “adequate.”

I call it “Tepid Gruel.”

It smells like tap water, limp white bread,

And past-its-prime shampoo.

It makes a statement, as if to say

“I’m alright… how are you?”

Critics are calling it “fine, I guess,”

“Non-threateningly bland,”

“An understudy’s ideal scent,”

“Inconsequential, thus not panned.”

So if you’re worried you might be liked

Or noticed in a way

Be sure to spritz on some Tepid Gruel

Before you start your day!

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Quidditch

I met a girl

I thought was nice.

Turns out she was a witch.

She said that I

Was quite a catch.

‘Tis the life of a golden snitch.

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The Quest For Common Sense (And A Wonderful Resource For Those Who Fail It)

I tell this tale and sing this song;

‘Tis neither short nor over long.

It is the tale of whom I met

When towards the darkness off I set.

I ventured to a fright’ning spot,

All at one both cold and hot,

And in its center stood the tree

Of personal responsibility.

And beneath that mighty central birch

I met a figure on its perch,

A lovely human, clean and bright

Yet I stood only half its height.

It spoke to me with radiant voice:

“To you I grant this single choice:

“To leave my grove, still safe and dense

“Or to eat the fruit of common sense.”

I looked again at the dreadful tree

From which grew apples, light and free

And with the hymns of wisdom fair

Filled joyfully the grove’s clean air.

And then I looked beyond the wood

To whence I came. Alas, still stood

Where man and beast were much the same,

Obsessed with power, sex, and fame.

To the glorious figure I did ask

What treachery hid within my task,

What fear and pain accompanied

The fruit of logic and its seed.

“No pain at all,” the figure said

Extending apples, smooth and red.

I knew not what was wrong nor right

But I grabbed the fruit and took a bite.

No longer was the forest bleak.

I couldn’t hide. I needn’t speak.

Where once the darkness clutched my heart

I only saw the world’s true art.

Where once I begged, now I produced.

Where once I guessed, now I deduced.

Where once had stood the figure bright

Now stood a mirror to my sight.

And yet the place from which I came

Sat glumly, still the very same.

I stood in brightness, stared at black,

And knew I never would go back.

So if you wander, wondering

Why you’re not pleased with your new thing,

Why your whole life seems second best

I summon you to join my quest,

To seek out forests rank with fear,

And from them soon there will appear

The brighter, lighter, clearer you

That knows and does what’s right and true,

Who looks at worlds of smog and spite,

Yet does his best and smiles despite.

Eat the fruit and so commence

Your brand new life with common sense!

But if back home you would return,

If common sense you seek to spurn,

If you treat dumbness with aplomb

You’ll find your kin at Facebook.com

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