Three short poems in a row
May feel a bit like cheating
Today’s this poet’s birthday
And I’m much too busy eating.
Tag Archives: Postaday
A Comment on Current Events
Filed under Poems
Love is a Feat
I’ve fallen in love, which traps me
Between a hard place and a rock
‘Cause she’s a sandals type of girl
And I… Well, I’m a sock.
Filed under Poems
There’s No Haiku Like Home
Beige fields of wheat
As far as the eye can see.
In Kansas again.
Filed under Poems
The Big’s Mama
Strong as an ant
And fat as a pig,
I’m always in awe
Of Hubert the Big.
He works as a bouncer
And lives at the gym,
His hair oft askew
Like he got a bad trim.
Hugh pays for luxuries
On his Wednesday nights
In a DIY octagon
Hosting amateur fights.
I thought he was gruff,
Vulgar, manly, and dumb
‘Til he invited me over
And I met his Mum…
Filed under Poems
He Waited a Long Time
I don’t want to learn French,
Russian, Greek, or Spanish
‘Cause when Esperanto hits the news
Those languages will vanish
And everyone will be at peace
And speak identically,
And when they do, I’m telling you,
It’ll be a sound to see.
Filed under Poems
A Poet Has Needs
I’m the guy who has a lot;
The guy who wants for nothing
Except a rhyme for a poor setup.
Now look at me. I’m bluthing!
Filed under Poems
Meet the New Internet…
I got a satellite dish
For the internet,
But when it rains
My connection goes.
So I sit and wish
It would come back,
Wondering what happens
When it snows.
Filed under Poems
Dragon Logic
To be man with aspirations
Of power, wealth, and fame
Is just to be a failed dragon.
Here, let me explain:
A dragon spends its day
Making money and making noise
And sits in its lair in the evening
Counting billions of new toys.
If a human does the same
And becomes a zillionaire
He still won’t be a dragon.
The dragon says “so there.”
Before the Battle of Laughing Bull
I wasn’t too good at the rodeo.
The bull kicked me, so I had to stop.
No need to worry, I’ll have my revenge,
With the money I’ll make from my china shop.
Filed under Poems
A Birthday Travesty
My yearly birthday ritual
Is something to behold,
Though it’s tasteless and repugnant
I am very often told.
I start the day by flossing
For the first time in a year
For you are just what you eat
And the data’s all right here.
Then I right down my wishes
And goals for the coming year
Which flow so much more smoothly
After a quart or two of beer.
Then I take a nap
On the floor beside my couch
After which I try to do some squats
That end up as a slouch.
Then I might contact all my friends
And tell them of their flaws
Or drive to the police station
And break some petty laws,
And as no one posts my bail
Thus ends my birthday drill.
Now the year’s worst day is over.
From now on it’s all uphill.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 