Tag Archives: Postaday

A Day At The Beach

A dog and his man

Hopped into a van

And drove down to the ocean.

The dog jumped in the surf

And rolled in the turf

While the man put on suntan lotion.

The man made sand castles,

The dog ate some tassles.

They both watched a volleyball game.

The dog chased rubber balls

And peed on brick walls,

And the man covertly did the same.

The man and his doggy

Wet, dirty, and soggy,

Hopped back in their automobile.

And they drove back home,

Covered in sand and loam,

With the dog in control of the wheel.

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The Best I’ve Got

A panda, a koala, 

A grizzly, and a pooh

Walked into the city 

After they left the zoo.

They walked into a bar

And all ordered a coke.

This isn’t much of a poem,

Nor is it much of a joke.

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The 100-Year Love

I forgot your birthday,

Our anniversary,

And the day we’d planned

To spend, just you and me.

But I’m a very lucky man

To be in love with you,

I guess because, in hindsight,

You forgot them too.

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The Bad Day Begins

I took a fifteen minute shower

To get all clean and bright,

But when I stepped in it

The water wasn’t right.

At first it was too hot to stand,

So I bumped it down a little.

It turned out either hot or cold,

But nowhere in the middle.

I got out and toweled off

And went to check the heater.

It may have been fine. I don’t know.

I couldn’t read the meter.

So I called up a plumber

To come down that afternoon.

He said that he would call me back.

I hope he shows up soon.

And so I had a sponge bath

That took upwards of an hour

Cause I waited for the sponge to cool

From the overheated shower.

Then I hopped into my car

Stuck in my key and turned,

When a friendly orange dash light

Said my gas had all been burned.

I sweated thirty miles

On my tandem bike, alone.

I’d have called you when I left

But I forgot my phone.

And here I am, alive and well,

Although I’m somewhat harried.

Any minute now my darling one

Will come, and we’ll get married.

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Pre-Presidential Career Advice

Math has strength in numbers,

Computer science has Intel.

Musicians can pull the strings,

And drama can as well.

But the nerdy occupation

That wins while hardly trying

Are the mattress beta-testers,

‘Cause, oh man, they’re good at lying.

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Stay Tuned

It would be great to write a poem

About someone named “Heigl.”

What other name can be pronounced

To rhyme with Beagle and Bagel?

But all the Heigls that I know

Do not like dogs or bread,

So I’ll settle for “Smythe,” and rhyme

With Myth and Lithe instead.

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Pottery

Pottery is a hobby

And an art form, in a way.

To do it, you spin a wheel

And use lots and lots of clay.

You stick the pot-in-progress

In a special sort of stove,

And you paint it different colors

‘Cause the default’s sort of mauve.

Once your pot is finished

You can fill it up with stuff

Like pebbles, beads, or flowers

Or all sorts of girly stuff.

Then you stick it where you’ll look at it

And feel the nostalgia

Of the day you took to potter

Instead of studying hydromalgia.

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Happy Green Booze Day!

Once a year we celebrate

Some unruly Irish saint

With our Friday evening fun,

Although it’s Tuesday, and only 1:00.

If you’re a kid not wearing green

It’s better that you not be seen,

For this day’s for the violent sort.

Pinching’s an encouraged sport!

And tomorrow, on goes the fun

As we avoid noise and the bright sun.

So read this poem tomorrow at noon,

And you’ll know why you fell asleep in the bathroom.

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Bargaining

Monday comes again.

Seems it happens every week.

Can’t we skip this one?

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What’s for Breakfast?

Today is the Ides of March,

When Caeser was made invalid.

We celebrate with leftover pie,

Orange Julius, and Caeser salad. 

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