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.
Tag Archives: Postaday
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.
Filed under Poems
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.
Filed under Poems
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.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Bargaining
Monday comes again.
Seems it happens every week.
Can’t we skip this one?
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.
Filed under Poems
I Just Want Some Subtlety!
It’s 3.14159!
What a day! Oh, isn’t it fine!
I’m all for Pi, but in this case
I’d like my Pi less “in your face.”
Filed under Poems
Good Riddance
Let the record show
I really didn’t know
That an iceberg could do damage
Like that iceberg did.
Don’t think I didn’t care
That a floating bit was there,
Begging for some rammage
With nine-tenths of its body hid.
Let the record indicate
That good-old-me, the captain’s mate,
Gave warning to the skipper,
But he did merely scoff.
Then the captain broke the ship
And so he went out for a dip.
He was a lousy tipper,
So in the end, we’re better off.
Filed under Poems
A Weekend Outing
We run through the park
Away from the light.
It’s awfully dark
To be flying a kite,
But vampires have to
Find creative means
To be a good parent
To their vampire teens.
Filed under Poems
It Shone in the Far Window
Moon light, moon bright,
Only moon I’ll see tonight…
Then my neighbor proved me wrong,
And I had to sing a different song.
Filed under Poems
