Some days before going to bed
A little voice speaks in your head:
“Write something funny
“Without sex, dogs, or money,”
And so you write limericks instead.
Tag Archives: Postaday
Safety Tip
‘Twas three weeks since start of fall
And I heard a siren’s call
And, despite cries of protest,
Drove where the siren led.
Now I surely can attest
I was deserving of arrest.
Next time I hear a siren
I’ll pull over instead.
Filed under Poems
Enough With The Predators!
Lions, tigers, bears, oh my.
These are sports teams, yes, but why
Isn’t there a team named after
An animal that inspires laughter?
Chicago Squid? Seattle Seagulls?
New York Newts? Boston Beagles?
Who wants to see the ducklings hit it!
I sure so! I just don’t get it.
Filed under Poems
It All Ends Here
“Where should we sit?” I ask.
She says “Anywhere.”
So I sit in the corner,
And she says “but not there.”
So we move to the middle,
Which she doesn’t like too much.
We sat outside, but the people
Were bums, singers, and such.
We walked out to Jamaica,
And she seemed ok with that,
And I went back to the corner
With a tip of my “are you really wearing that” hat.
Deja Ecris
You ever wake up at nine PM
And want to write away,
But the poem that fits perfectly
I already wrote yesterday?
Filed under Poems
Thus The Lateness
You ever had that feeling
When you wake up at nine
And think “I’ve got work to do,
“But waiting twelve hours will be fine.”
Filed under Poems
Chess as a Model of Social Justice, or Why I’m a Stay-at-home Pawn
Some are born as Queens or Kings.
Some are born as other things.
But be you bishop, rook, or knight,
At least you’re not a pawn. Am I right?
And if, unluckily, you are a pawn
You’d best just keep on keeping on.
You’ll reach a spot where life treats you fair.
(Or, more likely, you’ll get murdered on your way there).
And if you reach that special place,
A queen or rook you may replace,
Where you are but some king’s conquest
Or else called “castle,” despite your protest.
Or perhaps you’re promoted to a knight
And never again can you move quite right.
You could be a bishop, those stoic blokes
And victims of off-color jokes.
Only one can be the king,
The chosen one, or another such thing.
So if you’re a pawn, your best bet
Is to stay still in the corner with no regret.
The happiest piece, the jolliest lord
Of the 64-square light and dark colored board
Is the piece that stays safe at home.
That’s why I no longer roam.
Filed under Poems
Pirates
Pirates are lying, violent jerks,
Three things which I deplore,
But pirates don’t write poetry,
Which makes me respect them more.
Filed under Poems
My New Motto
If at first you don’t succeed,
LOL! Sucks to be you!
If at first I don’t succeed,
You’re dreaming. I’m perfect. All this is true.
Filed under Poems
Canada
I had to walk ten city blocks
To find Café Joie.
That’s ten times the length in Washington
To find some plain coffee.
I paid a polite barista
With a blue, 20-loony bill.
The traffic lights are flashing green,
And I can buy a prescription pill.
I can calculate distances
By moving a decimal place,
And I can drive 100
Without being in a race.
It’s a different place than the USA.
Yes, Canada’s where I’ve been.
Now I publish this, just hoping
The “yanks” will let me come back in.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 