Tag Archives: Postaday

The Rich Man Thinketh

I’ve developed a nasty growth,

A blighting blob of bloat

Called a sense of self-importance.

I have a strong desire to gloat.

Considering my presence

On this great orb on which we float

I realize how unhealthy this is,

Yet I’ll still buy that fur coat.

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Forrest Gump 2: Lost In New York

Life is like a box of chocolates:

It costs money and makes you fat.

Most people enjoy it as it kills them slowly.

Yeah, life’s a lot like that.

But it doesn’t have to be:

We can smile and and act as equals

Starting with something on which we all agree,

Specifically that most movies don’t need sequels.

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Saint Andrew Is Not Amused

Blasphemy is bad.

Blasphemy is wrong,

But set it to a salsa beat

And make a catchy song

And pierce your nose and beat your kids

And smoke cocaine out of a bong

And that’s why I got kicked out of my church.

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Vulcans Makes Sh*tty Poets

When I see your smiling face,

Your shining eyes and feline grace

I almost feel something at all

But then I don’t. So there.

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Vulcans Makes Sh*tty Poets

When I see your smiling face,

Your shining eyes and feline grace

I almost feel somethig at all

But then I don’t. So there.

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Totally The Feelings Of Someone Else (Who Isn’t Me) For Margot Robbie That Are Probably Exaggerated And Definitely Not Mine… Probably

Margot, Margot, Margot Robbie:

You make me want to go and see

A film I likely won’t enjoy

‘Cause you are you and I’m a boy.

Margot, Margot, Margot Robbie:

Watching you is my new hobby.

Your hair, when styled in tails of pig

Makes my… heart… grow twice as big.

Margot, Margot, Margot Robbie:

You’re my favorite celebrity since whoever played Dobby.

The only thing more beautiful in my eye

Would be a reboot of Firefly.

Margot, Margot, Margot Robbie:

You’re hotter even than wasabi.

This poem’s a joke written for you.

Yes, I’m a Joker, so love me too!

Margot, Margot, Margot Robbie:

Not being with you makes me sobby

But in the unlikely event you won’t be my vixen…

Shailyn, Shailyn, Shailyn Pierre-Dixon.

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You’ve Got A Friend?

When I’m in your presence

I’m not sure how I feel,

Like my body’s made of clouds,

Like I’m not even real.

When other folks look my way

It’s like they see right through me,

But I know when I meet your eyes

I’m all you want to see.

I may doubt my own existence

And you do too, maybe,

But know whatever happens

You’ve got an imaginary friend in me.

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Playing With Myself

They see me in an empty room

Running in circles without any cares.

What they don’t know is that I am losing

A one-person tourney of musical chairs.

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When You Want To Complain But You Have Writer’s Block

The world is really beautiful

But doesn’t have enough

Cheese-based lukewarm beverages

(And generally lukewarm-cheese stuff).

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We’re All The Same… Now Obey Me

One of the wonderful aspects

Of writing poetry

Is seeing how total strangers

Find a common way to see.

We all saw the red wheelbarrow,

And the raven to all of us did quoth.

We all like green eggs and ham

Without needing to try both.

So go on and like this poem.

You’ll feel great if you do

And everyone who likes it is your friend.

With that shameless plug, toodaloo!

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