Write a haiku?
I’d like to,
But today I won’t.
Instead you
Get this… Poo.
Care about this, I don’t.
Tag Archives: Postaday
The Little Intestine Who Could
There was too much water,
At least a gallon or two.
Little intestine was struggling
To make some pee for you.
The intestine thought “I think I can.”
As it turned out, he could.
If you didn’t like this poem
Small intestine says “you should.”
Filed under Poems
Bacon
Bacon is like Hell,
As I know all too well.
Both hurt in the end,
And the scars never mend,
But before all that, they’re swell!
Pictionary
He drew a pair of tentacles
And a rocket on its side
With a pair of spiny barnacles
Beneath a grey-black sky.
Barry shouts “it’s patriotism,”
And Andy says “That’s it!”
The rest of us just sit and stare,
And Laura says “well, shit.”
Feel-Good Movies
I want to see a movie
Unlike the Wizard of Oz
Where some guy from a magic world
Turns into a lost cause.
He’s trapped in a tornado
And carried to a place
Where the world is all in black and white
And munchkins hate his face.
He travels many miles
Down an unremarkable trail
To a city where a beurocrat
Says his journey’s doomed to fail.
It would be a dismal movie,
That makes you want to drink some Mace.
That said, I’m sick of “Game of Thrones”
And this could take its place.
Filed under Poems
Correlation
I think that caffeine
Is good for your spleen,
And I have evidence to back it up:
How often have you seen
Someone hurt a healthy spleen
While savoring something in a Starbucks cup?
Filed under Poems
Based on a True Story
Waiting at the DMV
Is not too bad for me.
Maybe it’s painful for you,
Not being “R362.”
As they serve R529
I continue to feel just fine.
Then they call up R360
And we’re one step closer to helping me!
A few minutes later R361.
I am almost having fun.
And then there’s R363.
Did they really just skip me?
I bring my ticket to the desk
And ask them straight-up, “what the hesk?”
They say to kindly sit and wait.
I’m now R758.
Filed under Poems
Research Paper
Wild chickens of the North;
Black and white, they sally forth.
Their wings are much akin to fins.
That much I know of penguins.
Filed under Poems
Aragorn’s Vacation
The sun shines down,
Hot as myself.
I lie on a beach
With a dwarf and an elf.
My shining armor
Makes Gondor girls swoon.
It’s been a long, happy day
And it’s only noon.
Somewhere near Mordor
They’re killing the ring
And I’m just here like,
“I should be king.”
Sometimes I think
I should go help them out,
But Gollum’s got that covered,
Without a doubt.
So I sip margaritas
And smile a bit wider.
Someone calls me “sir.”
I say “please, call me Strider.”
But as the days pass
I grow somewhat bored.
When will they be finished
Reforging my sword?
Filed under Poems
Wildflengths
A rose by other names
Smells the same.
But poems would be lame
If flowers had a different name.
There would not be “flower power”
But instead “flength strength.”
I might pick a dozen gwazzles
Or a bouquet of mength.
I think you get the point,
And I’m running out of time.
This poem wasn’t flengthy
And very easy to rhyme.
